jestercouture

[jestercouture]

Long nails scrape against your skin. Not drawing blood, but a reminder that he is able to end your life should he ever feel the need to. Though, you are not that lucky. Hisoka would never kill you. Ever. Because you are his and his disgustingly rotten heart had finally been brought to life as it beats against your back. You could feel his erratic heartbeats. His breathing was abnormal and rapid as if he was a rabid dog.

Escaping his claws was impossible which is something you were painfully aware of. His hand was resting against your neck. Just above your pulse. He pressed his fingers against it as he felt your blood pump through your heart so fast you almost passed out. His other arm was firmly coiled around your midriff like a snaky sizing up its meal. You were sure he would have eaten you if he could. That way you would be one with him which was something the crazed joker wouldn’t be opposed to.

He was utterly insane and it frightened you. But what was more horrifying, was his love. The love that was so real it was sickening. Hisoka was a horrible man, but you couldn’t help but lean against his embrace. Your head made contact with his chest as he pressed himself closer to your back.

His lips pressed against the back of your neck as he left goosebumps in his wake. You were trapped.

A/N: I really both love and hate this man♥️

Hunter x Hunter requests are open <3

[jestercouture]

Perfect plan

Warnings: Obsession, stalking, spying, toxic behaviors, slight mention of masturbation

He is simply dying of love for you. He adores you—everything about you. Every little detail overwhelms him in the most delightful way, and of course, he has made it his mission to make you his, taking all the necessary steps. You don’t know it yet, but someone is literally learning your routine inside and out—from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep—and that is only the beginning. He is completely determined to make the connection immediate, to make you fall for him at first sight. He has been studying you. He knows your favorite books and has read them, he knows your favorite show and has watched it, he knows your favorite singers and songs—he has memorized stories and lyrics. He has studied you so well it’s astonishing. You could ask him for the coordinates of the place where you were born, and he could probably tell you—he is that obsessed with you. His computer is filled with folders containing pictures and videos of you, meticulously categorized by location, body parts, dates, and more. He follows you everywhere. He has memorized your favorite foods and drinks and has forced himself to try them, even if they contain something he dislikes—simply imagining your sweet face when he "casually" confesses that his favorite dessert is the same as yours makes it all worth it. He finds it adorable when you get the feeling that someone is watching you—those nervous, suspicious glances excite him because it means you sense his presence, that you are starting to notice him. He has even planned your first meeting, and he is determined to make it PERFECT—because you are already HIS. You just don’t know it yet.

You were walking down your street, buying bread for breakfast, unaware that your favorite one had mysteriously sold out. You had no idea that he had gone out of his way to buy fifty loaves.

“Damn… it’s gone" You muttered in frustration.

“It’s a really delicious bread” A male voice said behind you. “No wonder it’s sold out”

You turned around politely to see him. You didn’t recognize him at all, and he was pretending just as well that he didn’t know you either. Soon, you noticed his hand holding a bag with three loaves—you figured he had taken the “last ones.”

“Looks like you got lucky” You said with a sigh.

“Do you want them?” He asked in a gentlemanly tone, almost like a savior.

“N-no, I couldn’t ask that of you” You replied, a little nervous.

“I insist” He said, taking your hand and placing the bag in it.

He had to suppress a surge of excitement when his fingers brushed against yours. He simply continued acting like a calm, kind guy, even though he was dying to kiss you right then and there.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll just grab a white mocha at the café next door” He said casually.

“You like white mochas too?” You asked, a bit surprised but happy to meet someone who shared your tastes. “Since you’re giving me the bread… maybe I could buy you a mocha? What do you think?”

“Yes… that sounds perfect…” he said, his cheeks turning pink. You didn’t take it as a romantic reaction—just the morning cold.

You both walked together. You didn’t notice the intense gaze full of love and obsession fixed on you—you were just happy to have found your bread and, apparently, a new friend.

“I’m Y/n” You introduced yourself.

“That’s a beautiful name” He said casually… acting as if it wasn’t the name he moaned desperately while pleasuring himself.

This was truly just the beginning of a love story—the result of a perfect plan.

HxH: SHALNARK, Hisoka, Illumi, PARISTON

KNY: DOUMA, Akaza, Obanai

BNHA: Hawks

Genshin Impact: Dottore

HSR: Luocha, SUNDAY

LADS: RAFAYEL

[jestercouture]

trash turns to treasure [ch.4]

breaching the walls.

[ch.1] [ch.2] [ch.3]

warnings: mentions of stalking, breaking and entering, Illumi, Hisoka, MDNI, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

Illumi had never been raised to keep track of useless endeavours. He was shown from a young age that his very being must only be concerned by what was necessary. When Illumi made a mistake, he was punished, and therefore shown the right way to do things. 

Which is why for the life of him, he couldn’t understand what you meant to Hisoka. It was common for the jester to keep tabs on whomever he considered worthy of his efforts to fight them in the future, to ensure that their path led back to him every time. 

But Hisoka didn’t seem all that concerned in fighting you. He appeared to just…watch you, see what you were doing at any time when he felt it best, or that boredom was settling in. He just liked to observe you; sometimes he would mess up your security, just to make you feel uneasy. 

But all in all, Illumi wasn’t terribly interested. He was curious, as he had never felt the urge to simply mess around with a target, had he? He was practical, straight to the point. Illumi had been raised that way.

Speaking of which, he should have probably got going a while ago.

“So, what is it you want with…her, exactly?”

The bar aboard the airship was unusually quiet this evening, two of the most evidently dangerous men aboard must have had something to do with it.

“Well, I believe you’ve answered your own question.” A cryptic answer was not unexpected, but there was something different about the manner in which Hisoka spoke. As though he was not too open to discussing such a matter with Illumi.

The assassin leaned back, taking his drink in his hand as he let his eyes scan Hisoka. So this was important, then. Hisoka glanced over at him, silently, before he sighed and shut his eyes for a moment. Of course Illumi wouldn’t understand, he didn’t care about anything that wasn’t to do with his family or controlling Killua.

But…Illumi didn’t have to understand. This was his situation and his alone.

“I still haven’t ironed out all of the details yet, Illu~”, Hisoka drawled, running a hand through his red hair. It was true, he hadn’t really thought of anything too far ahead. His fascination was just leaving it’s early stages, the situation was ramping up; especially after all the risks he took to pay you a visit.

“Well I would suggest that you get a plan in place…if you plan on continuing to see her.” A clink of a glass was heard, being set down on the table at which the two men sat at. Illumi straightened up in his seat with his body barely moving, his dark eyes scanning all over the table’s surface to see if he had left anything.

“I will be taking my leave now, Hisoka. Will you be leaving the ship later?”

The question hung in the air, waiting for an answer itself seemingly before Hisoka found it in himself to grace it one.

“Yes, I think I will be leaving myself in a little while. Maybe I’ll see you then,” he uttered, before taking a swig of his drink and slamming it down on the table, Illumi only stared, nodding and turning away towards the bar’s exit.

Illumi wouldn’t understand this fixation he had with you. God, how could anyone? He barely understood it himself sometimes, how this was the one person he just couldn’t leave alone. You had done so much, yet almost nothing at all to catch his attention in the way you had. You just existed to him, in his eyes that made you as good as dead in any other situation.

But this time was different. Hisoka gazed into his drink, the glass half empty as he sat at the bar on his own. Things were changing drastically, slipping away out of his orbit and becoming so much bigger that it had begun. He didn’t even know if he liked it that way, all-consuming and degrading.

He enjoyed it, he craved this dysfunction that raged through him at the thought of you. You, who didn’t even have to try, you who was completely effortless. Yet somehow…this interest had morphed into something different. It had lasted for so long, he had waited for so long, to figure it out and decide his next plan of action.

But Hisoka had never been too good at planning things out in the traditional sense; his flighty and unconventional ways never let him be too thorough with things where he simply took what he wanted.

But, he was beginning to feel another need…something that yet again needed satisfying. A need to go further, to take.

To possess.

And perhaps that’s where Illumi came in. He had endless money, connections, it was all so disposable and inconsequential to the Zoldycks.

It’d be horribly difficult to simply take with no plan in place.

The only obstacle was how Hisoka was to repay Illumi for his services if they were ever needed.

Hmm. He’d figure out a way, he always did.

The sudden blare of the airship's horn interrupted him, and he turned his head to see the screen of where they were preparing to land. Finally, this journey had taken forever.

Besides, he had to catch up to Illumi.

————————————————

You were sick to death today. Body-breaking training had left you exhausted but the muscles you were gaining-slowly, but you were prideful of your progress- and something was wrong.

You could have let exhaustion take over and passed out, but you couldn’t relax. Why? Why couldn’t you just simply get some rest and enjoy your day?

Because you couldn’t feel anything. You couldn’t feel him. You didn’t feel a crawling presence surrounding you, but something had been left behind. Not knowing what it was, what it could be, how it could feel so claustrophobic in here…you were going crazy.

And the worst part was…looking around, you couldn’t see anything. Not a thing out of place, a book askew by accident. That’s what was unnerving you. You hadn’t touched anything, just laid here on your bed, staring out at your apartment walls.

You rolled over and tried to take a breath of air, but it seemed to catch in your throat for some reason.

God, why did I accept his offer to escort me?

Why did I take the card?

Why even bother with all this training?

No. No. You couldn’t give yourself a disservice. You had a goal, a personal desire that you were committed to. It wasn’t long left now that you were so close to grasping it.

You had even doubled your workout pace to anticipate some sort of chance to defend yourself: but you weren’t dumb. Hisoka was powerful, skilled beyond you, far beyond your ability in combat.

You had strayed from the Hunter exam for several reasons…but your probability to die at his hands was a big one.

It was then that you smelt it. That smell. Suffocating and sweet, enticing yet warning signs of something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

You knew that scent.

“Oh, god no-“, you didn’t even catch the last of your own sentence as you sat and listened, swivelling your head around to catch the sight of him.

But instead, the last thing you expected caught your eye.

Your laundry basket.

You didn’t know why, it was in the same as it always was. Unmoved.

Untouched.

Although something in the back of your mind was beginning to convince you otherwise on that last part.

You slowly got up, and made your way over to the basket. Not quite timidly, as you still had no idea what you were even doing or looking for, but something was nagging at you to just take a look.

You gripped the sides of the basket and just stood over it for a second; is this what life had come to? Rummaging around your own dirty laundry to see if anything was amiss?

But you looked at it. You reached your hand into the depths of your sweat-soaked clothes and began to pull them out.

Every single piece seemed to be a little bit more daunting the last, a bomb waiting to blow. You kept pulling and pulling, hands grabbing whatever they could desperately, trying to feel something out of place that you couldn’t see.

But there was nothing. Until there was. Everything had been emptied out onto your floor except for one thing.

Blue underwear. They had been worn recently, you vividly remembered throwing them in the basket without so much as a second look.

But they weren’t there.

But a pink, sticky candy wrapper was.

You didn’t need to guess where they had gone.

You’d seen that brand before, unwrapped and tossed onto the ground, as a pink-haired man sauntered away from.

But god, you wished you didn’t know.

——————————————

“You took a while to follow me, Hisoka,” Illumi remarked as they exited the ship.

“Had some things on my mind, that's all.”

“Have you made a decision, then?”

Hisoka paused.

“I suppose I have. Say, how much would a few favors from you set me back?~”

Illumi hummed. “A great deal, if you’re asking what I suspect you are.”

“What would I have to do to make up for such things?”

“We can discuss it on the way home, but I can assure you that it would be steep. But I suppose you’d have to aid in some jobs to repay me, Hisoka.”

Then that’s what he’d do.

Anything for you.

A Zoldyck’s debt never goes unpaid.

———————————-

sorry for the late update! life has been crazy and stressful but i’m back and here’s a new chapter , i hope you enjoy it. i’m not too sure about this but i also love it ???

[jestercouture]

Diego Brando. ☆

insta : @windsaor

[jestercouture]

hey guys, jester here i’m not dead i’ve just started a new job so i’ve been focusing on trying to learn everything and i’m getting the hang of it! my requests are still open and i’m still writing when i have the time! i’m also watching Death Note for the first time so i’ll be adding to it to my writing list!

current requests/works in progress for the jester box:

trash turns to treasure chapter four

yandere Link (requested)

yandere Risotto Nero (requested)

send in any of your ideas and if you have any questions just send one in and i’ll answer it for you! my tumblr has been a little weird lately but it’s looking to get back to normal (hopefully)

my masterlist and act list(what i write for) is linked on my pinned post on my profile so if you want to make a request or simply want to talk, don’t hesitate at all!

promise i haven’t abandoned you i’ve just been busy asf

AO3

[jestercouture]

Johnny Joestar sketch

[jestercouture]

trash turns to treasure [ch.3]

haunting you.

[ch.1] [ch.2]

warnings: stealing, breaking and entering, Hisoka, panty stealing, mentions of NSFW, borderline/ straight up somnophilia, non-con touching.

He did not know why you began to change right before him, fitting into every facet of his life. He imagined your clothes on his floor, your knick-knacks and personal items strewn around his apartment at Heaven’s Arena. 

Was it hallucination, this forceful compulsion to think about you? Hisoka knew it was blatant fantasising one way or another. It was as if you were clawing him open and forcing him to open his eyes wide and-

See you. Really see you.

He was placing you alongside himself where he could really look at you, smell you, breathe you, fuck you. Hisoka could imagine how you would react to each of these scenarios, and an itch was beginning to grow. A desire, a need for you to be reality.

All for himself. He’d taint you forever, Hisoka was sure.

You were just so delicious. So unsure, yet you had a strength in you that just needed to be unlocked. Understood.

By him and only him.

Hisoka was positive he could simply break it out of you, and even now a smirk crossed his face as he thought about the many ways he could go about such a thing.

Watching you so closely only made it more fun. You were getting so paranoid, so anxious when you felt his eyes on you and he just found it so amusing! He wondered if you’d figured it out yet, who your little stalker was.

Hisoka simply adored playing games, and he was more than willing to keep playing. For now, anyway.

Even this routine of messing with you was beginning to wane in regards to Hisoka’s interest. It was surprising that the game had lasted this long, he believed it had been going on for around three months by now?

The itch that had been festering all this time had been only partially satiated with this recent hobby, but for as long it had kept Hisoka entertained…he had additionally begun to slip even further into depravity.

It was a new aspect of the game, completely unexpected and exciting. You had just come back from seeing a friend, presumably [although Hisoka tended to find delight in killing those he deemed too close to you] and were talking rather animatedly on the phone.

“I don’t know, Gwess, I can’t stop feeling this…sensation. It’s unsettling, it just doesn’t stop, ever!,” you looked and sounded so tired, he noted, golden eyes scanning your eye bags and slouched posture. It was as if you were beginning to be weighed down by his antics.

Hisoka was perched on a branch outside of your building, glued to your figure as you moved around with your phone in one hand, putting things away and tidying up the mess. That would make it easier for tonight, no tripping on any stray clothes as he silently wandered around, noseying about your apartment.

But now though, your voice appeared to be getting quieter, more relaxed for the first time in months. As if you had just forgotten about your little predicament. Well, that was alright.

Hisoka could always just do his part to remind you, couldn’t he? Just to help you out, give you a clue, see if you’d bite. Slink away to confuse you even more. You were just too cute, going out to train; and he’d noticed that you were becoming more rigorous and obsessive with it.

Almost as if you were getting more and more spooked.

That thought alone made him sigh in ecstasy, thoughts of your anxiety and paranoia spiking into an oozing bloodlust.

It was amusing, he had to admit, but seeing you in such an unaware and vulnerable state made him begin to get rather impatient.

He had to do something tonight.

Hisoka had to remind you that he was still around; not that he believed you had forgotten, but it wouldn’t hurt to simply accelerate things a bit now, would it?

It didn’t take long for you to work yourself into exhaustion from all your paranoia. You could barely keep your eyes open as you took your clothes off and changed into something light and thin to accommodate for the humid weather that night.

Hisoka almost salivated at the thought of you taking them off…and sleeping nude. Perhaps he could just do you a favour, hm?

Maybe not. As much as he loved to fuck with you, the game would be over before the truly fun parts had even started.

———————————————————————

Seeing you in your bed, the only instance of relaxation Hisoka had seen from you thus far, was doing things to him.

He was perched on your bed, to the right side of your limp body; precariously, as if he must be ready to take flight should you twitch an eyelid. Hisoka was practically beside himself with excitement, the need that had been building up for all these months, culminating in this moment of vulnerability.

Your weakness, your helplessness.

But you were getting stronger. Were you doing it for him, how did you know about his adoration for fighting?

“Oh my,” he murmured, barely above a breathless whisper.

”It appears we are quite well matched.”

Slowly, he reached out a manicured nail to run it down your stomach. You flinched, but made no attempt to stir or shiver from his touch. Hisoka’s eyes gleamed, the thrill pulsing through him, heat rising quickly and burning. He wanted to hurt you with it, to brand you with his touch so that you would never forget him, that you would always know what he could do to you.

You weren’t safe from him and you wouldn’t be ever again.

“I own you now,” he murmured right against your ear, so close that it made you shiver in your sleep. It was more of a shudder, as if a draft had swept in through the window and formed a freezing cloud right above you. Your chest only continued to rise and fall without faltering, Hisoka only getting closer and angling his face towards the crook of your neck. You had the scent of something sweet with natural sweat mixing in from the heat that was ravaging the city.

“How can you be this enticing, darling? It’s as if you want me this close to you,” his senseless muttering seemed to pour out of him now; silence mixed with your breathing drawing him to place a chaste kiss to your shoulder. Hisoka was losing control of himself, the growing tent in his pants was evident.

He could easily just…rut against you, further his own pleasure with only the satisfaction of you, right there, unaware that the one who had been making your life a living hell for months was practically about to fuck you.

Just one more touch, his internal voice begged. He almost lost himself, giving in and tearing your clothes away from your body, anticipating your pretty eyes to snap open in panic. But, alas, Hisoka showed some restraint. He softly moved away from your unconscious form and slipped off the bed, careful not to make a sound or shift the bed too much.

He paused and waited for a change in the air, any indication that you had awoken and realized that something was amiss. No movement yet.

He slowly scanned his eyes around your room, squinting as he could only vaguely see the intricacies of the apartment you dwelled in.

Pictures on the walls with friends, traveling souvenirs were placed with care in little shelves where there was a spare space to be used. Hisoka thought it was cute, the disorder and comfort of your apartment.

He could just envision you going about your day- when he wasn’t watching at least- without any distractions or fears. You had a life, without him in it, before he decided to come and fuck things up and make you feel as though you were going crazy.

That was what he liked, all of the disgusting ways he could make you feel uneasy. But Hisoka didn’t like to remember that you existed before him. It was as though you had transformed into an entity, an enigma that only he was entitled to.

You belonged to Hisoka now. And you would forever.

He crept further into the darkness of your apartment, hands gracefully floating across your knickknacks, as though he were choosing a product from a store. If it belonged to you it belonged to him, after all.

And there it was.

The jackpot.

Your laundry basket.

Filled to the brim with all of your garments and clothes, smelling of you and your daily life, a life that he had intruded into with utmost pleasure.

He reached into the basket, sifting through the contents as though he were purveying something treasured; it as well have felt that way.

Your scent was clinging onto these clothes, filling up his nose with a sweet and gentle smell that could only come from you. It didn’t matter if you had mud or blood or sweat on its fibers, it was a treasure to be savored.

His favorite? A blue pair or underwear, used and worn by you, but now it was his. Hisoka toyed with the panties in his hands, turning it this way and that, caressing the crotch.

Could he really do it?

No.

Should he really do it?

Of course not.

He brought it to his face and just simply inhaled the scent, transported back to just a few minutes ago when he was above you, so close and so near you. Eyes closed, stood still, erection coming back to life as he reminisced.

Hisoka was always going to be a bad man. But you just made him so much worse. You couldn’t really fault him for pocketing such a small item now, could you? After all, you had practically laid it out for him.

Hisoka wasn’t ever one to refuse a gift.

[jestercouture]

God made me a cannibal to fix problems like you

[jestercouture]

here’s the link to the playlist for “trash turns to treasure”! it’s probably going to be updated with more songs, but i welcome any suggestions you have in the comments!

the link is being kinda iffy but here’s a screenshot of what it looks like:

[jestercouture]

Golden wind characters x random poses I found on pinterest 🐞

[jestercouture]

pretty sure that if Hisoka was a teenager in the HXH universe 1980’s, he would have been the epitome of the New Wave/New Romantics trends. he would have been dripping in glamour i just know it like i can’t even deny he’s got drip even now and he’s supposed to be in his mid-late 20’s

i also think he would have loved the hair metal, glam rock era as well in that decade

[jestercouture]

Hii, i really liked your last post about jonathan and blackmore tending to sick darling! May i ask one like that but with yandere bruno and mista (the diiference being that reader got sick after trying to escape from them and spending the whole night hiding from them on the cold streets)

Bruno Bucciarati

warnings: stalking, kidnapping, obsessive behavior, light gaslighting, threats of violence.

His hands were shaking as he placed a warm blanket across your body; in anger or nervousness you did not know. You could gather that he was angry with you, for hiding, for running away from him but did you really have any other choice?

It was either run or spend the rest of your life in a locked room, disguised as a luxurious paradise, with the “love of your life” attending to your every whim. Except, Bruno wasn’t your lover and he had been closely following your every move without your knowledge as he prepared to take you for himself.

Oh, and he was a capo to the local Italian mafia.

But you hadn’t had a chance to spill a desperate apology from your chattering lips, eyes glazed over with tears burning and about to run down your cheeks. His eyes met yours and you just felt your heart stop; he was furious, that much you could tell, but he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

Bruno was a man of utmost respect; it was his very nature to care and nurture to the best of his ability despite a difficult situation on his hands. If you had liked him the slightest bit, perhaps he could have also commanded your respect without intention.

Because Bruno did care. Too much, to his own and to your detriment, which is how you got stuck here. He always tended to notice those on the fringes of society, those who weren't cared for and abandoned. You had a family, but after moving to Italy for a gap year as you decided what to with yourself for the rest of your life...it could get quite isolating. Staying in a cheap hostel wasn't easy, especially with your limited Italian.

But you made it work, as an English tutor to parents who wished for their kids to have more options for study and work. It paid well, most times, but you still fought tooth and nail to find a more stable and higher paying position as a barista or something.

If only you hadn’t taken that job at the local coffee shop, with good pay and regular customers who were (mostly) kind.

If only he hadn’t laid his eyes on you, you would be free. And happy.

There was no use in thinking about that now. You life, your freedom, you had been snatched away from all of it, without any thought as to how you would feel. He acted as though you should be grateful. Bruno thought, genuinely envisioned that you would be overjoyed to be stolen away from your own life.

“Do you find joy in being so difficult, mia cara?”, you almost jumped as his voice rang out in the bedroom, almost morose as he looked at you. Disappointment was worse than anger sometimes, because what did he really expect to happen?

“You can’t keep me here forever, Bucciarati. I don’t want to be here an-“, a slew of coughs wracked your body, ceasing your oncoming insults.

“Mmm, and I suppose I should have left you out there in this state?” Warm, strangely soft hands brushed against your forehead, drawing away after he felt the light sheen of sweat forming.

His chiding tone did nothing to inspire guilt, or even a sense of shame for running away from him, it only made you feel much more fury towards him.

Towards what had happened to you. A sadness of what you had now lost, and had no help of returning to.

You let your eyes wander up to his face- admittedly attractive, but his beauty was tainted by his selfishness. Big blue eyes gazed down at you, a sickening mocking care in them that made you begin to shake.

“Oh, carina this is why I keep you here, hm? Nice and safe, warm and right by my side,” Bruno gently placed another blanket over you, smoothing your hair and kissing your forehead.

You could have fallen in love with him. You felt weak enough as it was, sick and shivering and pathetic whilst still despising the man who ruined your life.

“You need me, sweetheart. You just need to give in, let me love you, let me adore you and all of your pain will go away.”

You had that minute of freedom; you grasped it with both hands desperately, knowing it would be last time you would taste it for a while.

Your eyes began to lose your energy faster than you wanted, eyes drooping but fluttering to stay awake.

A relieving, cool hand touched your face and stroked your cheek with tenderness; you almost felt sicker when your heart stopped at the feathery touch.

“Just sleep, amore, I’ll be there when you wake up.”

That’s what you were afraid of.

Guido Mista

"Aww, baby, you really outdid yourself this time, didn't you?"

You were feverish, barely able to see the shadows flittering around the room. It felt as though tiny creatures were jumping and crawling throughout the sheets, nipping and tickling your skin.

"Mista...where?..." you could barely form words, your throat was dry as all hell and your foggy vision was clouding your frail efforts to catch sight of a glass somewhere, anywhere in the haze.

“Shh, shh, just let me take care of you, carina. You’ve only gone and caught yourself a nasty little cold, huh?” His voice was teasing you, that much you could make out, yet your sweating body almost went into shock at the undertones of dread it gave you.

Mista was being uncharacteristically caring about your escape attempt; you had been bracing yourself for a long lecture and one-sided argument at your selfishness, your callous disregard for how you had abandoned Mista when all he wanted to do was love you.

Yeah, love you to death, more like. You had seen him dispose of low-life criminals on the streets of Italy, callous and violent, like it meant nothing to him. He may have tried to shield you from his occupation but you both knew what he was.

You forced yourself to watch Mista if it was possible to remind yourself of what he could do to you if you ever went too far; his gun could be pressed against your head one day if you pushed him far enough, right?

It didn’t matter right now, though. The pitter-patter and united whining of Sex Pistols still rang in your ears until the irritated voice of your captor scolded them for disturbing you in your time of rest.

“Mista, I-I’m sorry for leaving, I just wanted to-“

“Carina, rest your head. You made a simple mistake, hmm?”

Your foggy eyes widened. Mista was letting you off for now? That would have made you sigh with relief months ago, but you’d come to understand over time that he had a bit of a temper at times.

But now, as he fussed and pampered your bedridden body, a new stab of dread became more present in your gut. This could be dangerous.

He could have hurt me, you realized. But he didn’t, or rather hadn’t yet. Was he waiting until you were back on your feet to punish you? To make you regret you’d ever run away so foolishly, throwing his love and adoration for you back in his face?

But you could feel his painful anger towards you, no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. Eyes twitching, tense shoulders, all of them were hallmarks of a Mista meltdown ready to snap on you.

Bated breaths escaped you as a familiar, sickly feeling began to wash over you; anticipation. Whether or not you knew what was coming, you never failed to feel a few stops short of vomiting when he got like this.

“I don’t know why you do these things, bella. It really hurts my feelings when you act up and make me lose my patience.”

Mista pressed a damp cloth to your face, dabbing gently as he spoke, eyes fixed on your reactions. His tendencies is what was scaring you the most, you almost wanted him to lose his shit with you.

“But I know you’re sorry. I know you feel bad about making me worry and chase you down like that!” That last part…why was it spoken with such glee, such assurance in himself? In you, even after you’d run away?

“I-I really am sorry, Mista, I d-don’t know why I did it”-

“You were scared, weren’t you?”

You shut your eyes instinctually, baring yourself to face the inevitable consequences of your actions. But there was nothing, nothing at all, apart from the slow whisper next to your ear.

It made your hair stand on end, your heart thudded to point where you felt as though you could collapse into the pillows and cushions.

“But I forgive you. This time. If you do it again…I’ll break your legs.”

Somehow, you weren’t sure if you would make it out intact.

If you would make it out at all.

——————————————————

like my work?

ko-fi

i hope you enjoyed this one! took me a while, and i struggled with writing Mista a bit and i hope they turn out well!

jjba is on the brain im literally frothing at the mouth morning noon and night

[jestercouture]

ugh amazing gimme 69 of them right now

king of HEARTS

[jestercouture]

i am still actively writing the 3rd chapter, i’ve just been trying to finish off a lengthy college project that’s due next week and i’m so ready for it to be over holy SMOKES

request jester box is still open, thank you so much for all your good ideas!

i miss my dysfunctional yandere jester

[jestercouture]

tell me you love me, even if it's a lie

pairing: cloud strife x gn!reader

summary: cloud wants to hear you say you love him just this once, even if he knows it's just a lie...

tags: angst, implied yandere!cloud, unrequited feelings (cloud for reader), zack & reader relationship, lovesick cloud

“tell me you love! even if it's just a lie…”

cloud had taken your hands into his own. he knew that you were dating zack. he knew that he'd never be him and that he'd be never be with you. but at least once, he wanted to know what it would be like if you'd say his name with the same fondness you said zack's and told him that you loved him.

“cloud…” you sighed softly, trying to let him down gently. but there was no way you could convince him to drop this.

“please, just once. i know you could never love me, but just for a moment, let me pretend like you could truly love me.”

you silently considered it. yet if you said it once, what if he wanted more. what if he'd want a kiss next? what if it was more than a kiss that he wanted?

“i'll say it, just once.” you finally gave in. cloud's eyes widened and brimmed with excitement, but you quickly shut him down. “but after i say it, you have to move on. no more requests like these!”

cloud hasty nodded. he'd do anything, just to hear you say those words to him once. anything.

“i love you…”

the words you whispered weren't as sincere and affectionate as cloud had always imagined them as. but he shouldn't have expected so much. hearing you say them, he could pretend for a second that he'd be the one you truly loved. but just for a second, as afterwards, despair filled him.

“t-thank you…” his voice was quiet and shaky. you had just broken his heart with those words, yet he thanked you. but at the very least, he could pretend for just a moment that this wasn't a lie…

[jestercouture]

i remember when i begged my friend to make him in sims then she accidentally killed me but i still got to fuck him

i love you g

was still fuming tho

Sorry this took so long !! orz Redraw of the volume one cover ofc :)

[jestercouture]

Yandere x reader

TW: non-con, infantilisation, trapped reader, size difference, dub-con, power imbalance and much more. All yanderes are aged up!

You sit on the edge of the bed, your hands gripping the hem of the pastel nightgown he had chosen for you earlier in the evening. The room is dimly lit, casting long shadows that stretch across the walls. He’s sitting in the chair by the door, watching you, his dark eyes filled with an unsettling mix of adoration and control.

“You’ve been so good for me lately,” he says, his deep voice cutting through the heavy silence. “So obedient.” He stands, his broad frame towering over you as he approaches the bed.

You don’t respond. You’ve learned that silence is safer.

He places a hand on your shoulder, his fingers firm but not rough, and tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. “Are you scared of me?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with something darker.

You swallow hard, your throat dry. “No,” you lie, because the truth would only make things worse.

His lips curl into a faint smile. “Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. I’ll never hurt you… unless you make me.”

The unspoken threat lingers in the air as he sits beside you, his weight causing the mattress to dip. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him. His strength is overwhelming, and though his touch is gentle now, you know how easily that could change.

“I’ve done everything for you,” he says, his tone almost pleading. “I’ve given you a home, kept you safe, made sure you’ll never have to worry about anything. Isn’t that enough for you?”

You nod quickly, knowing that hesitation could lead to consequences. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “That’s what I thought,” he says, his tone shifting to something softer, almost tender. His lips brush against your temple, then trail down to your neck. “You belong to me,” he murmurs, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Your body stiffens as his touch becomes more insistent, his large hands exploring with a sense of ownership rather than affection. “Relax,” he whispers, his voice low and commanding. “I know what’s best for you.”

You don’t move, don’t resist, even as he lays you back against the pillows, his shadow falling over you like a shroud. His gaze roams over you, a possessive gleam in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you in the nightgown he picked out.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he says, his hand brushing your hair away from your face. “So perfect. My perfect little doll.”

You turn your head to the side, your breath quickening as his hands travel lower, his touch firm but controlled. “Look at me,” he demands, his voice soft but unyielding. When you don’t obey immediately, he grips your chin and turns your face back toward him. “Don’t make me remind you who’s in charge.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back. You’ve learned that crying doesn’t help; it only spurs him on. He leans down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s more about control than passion.

“See?” he whispers against your lips. “This is where you’re meant to be. With me. Forever.”

And as he continues, the weight of his words sinks in deeper than ever. You’re his—his possession, his pet, his doll. There’s no escape, no future beyond these walls, and no way to fight the man who holds all the power.

Insert:

Bnha: Deku, old man Bakugo, All might, Mirio, Kirishima, maybe todoroki.

Hxh: Illumi, Hisoka, Uvogin, Older Gon and Killua.