Hetalia x Reader (shorts, bonuses, scenarios and previews)

A Rose in Mourning (Yandere!2P!France)

                  

WARNING: Extreme violence, gore, sexual themes, and mental and physical torture. You've been warned.

hedonist

n. a person who believes that the pursuit of pleasure is the most important thing in life; a pleasure-seeker. (Google)

Death. The entire room reeked of its scent, radiating with its presence. Broken bottles littered the floor, cobwebs hung from every untouched corner, dust rested on every surface. Almost every surface.

Donatien let out a groan, his pale face was badly battered blue and black. Both eyes were swelling badly, and one was even blind. His nose was half the size it originally was. A few teeth have gone missing from his mouth, scattered about on the cemented floor which was brown and red and filthy. Stripped naked, he always had fresh scars on some part of his body—some were so deep they exposed bone and fat.

He had been trapped for more days than he could recall. He had lost count. He had lost hope.  

The old man was cold and in dire need of medical help. But no doctor or professional could ever help him recover from the torture he's been through. Tired, he tried to remember what he did to deserve this...

"Francois?" You call softly, pulling his mind back to you.

He shook his head gently "Yes?"

"Are you all right?" You ask quietly. You've been abnormally more taciturn and passive ever since Donatien. It's one of the things that have pushed Francois into doing what he had done.

He smiles feebly, and you frown slightly. He rarely smiles, but he's been trying to be more open since the incident. You simply hate it. After Donatien, nobody sees you at all anymore. They just see what happened to you.

"Y-you still haven't eaten" You say meekly.

"I guess I'm just not that hungry"

"Oh, well... maybe we should just go home then?" You move to get up but he stops you.

"No, it's fine" He puts his hand over yours on the table. He looks straight into your eyes "I just want to spend the night with you"

He has changed, just like everyone else around you. But you force a small smile "Okay"

Francois picks up his glass of wine. He knows what is going on inside your head, he's always been used to being an observer. He wants nothing more than to help, but what can he do?

He glares at the wine. Donatien's not leaving so easily. He has to pay.

On his way home, infamous libertine Donatien was approached by two men in suits and knocked unconscious. When he woke up his right foot was chained to the floor. A few minutes later, a familiar face appeared. Francois Bonnefoy. The head of an influential and wealthy French family, as well as among the most feared members of the underworld.

"Donatien. You've finally woken up" Francois paced around him, his men on a line behind him, ready to answer to his every beck and call.

"F-Francois..." The man was stuttering. He knew who Francois was "W-w-what are you d-doing, friend?"

Francois stopped walking "Friend?" He let out a dry laugh "Hardly" In a second he had his foot against Donatien's stomach, sending the man against the wall.

Donatien coughed up blood and spit, Francois was strong for a man who drank and lay around on his ass all day.

"Wha..." Donatien wheezed "What are you... Why..."

Francois was already at his face, silencing him still. His violet eyes looked like they've frozen over, hiding a destructive flame ready to raise hell.

"You know why you're here" Francois's breath smelt of whisky and French cigars. His voice was steady and rivaled his piercing eyes "You tried to harm someone close to me"

It finally clicked and Donatien tried to smile "Her? You're doing all this for her? She's just a woman, there are many others—argh!" Francois had pulled on what was left of his greying hair.

"Don't. You. Dare." He wasn't mad. He was wrath in human form.

Francois wasn't a good man. He was well aware of that. He has killed with his bare hands, has destroyed more lives than he could count. However, he was a man with a code. He respected people who worked diligently and those with principles, he treated children with mercy and compassion. He frowned upon hurting the innocent, however...

"Hurting a random girl is one thing. Hurting my woman?" Francois' men had taken off their jackets and began to roll their sleeves.

He stood up, taking an empty glass bottle from one of his men "Let's see just how masochistic you are"

Fancy fabric was ripped apart, baring Donatien's pale and wrinkly skin. The sound of whips slashing the air and splitting skin echoed with his pained cries and pleas for mercy. Kicks and punches were thrown. At some point, one of the mooks took out a lighter and lit their captive's nose on fire. The scent of roasting pork made some of them laugh.

Francois watched silently from his chair, smoking on his cigar which he used on the geezer's eye at some point. He had his men hold the fucker down before he slowly, excruciatingly pressed the lit end on Donatien's cornea.

After several hours of Donatien's no-barred-hold-down, he was left alone. He was left burnt and bleeding, and starving.

Finally, after two days, food came. Francois had given orders to make him suffer, and one of his rules was to feed their prisoner his own feces by roasting it.

   "Let the pervert indulge in his sick fantasies" He had said over a bottle of scotch.

Sick fantasies indeed. For days, weeks even, Donatien was tortured and fed with his own filth.

"Good evening" Francois entered the chamber. He looked clean wearing his hair back and in an Italian-tailored suit "I trust you've been enjoying your stay here" He was mocking but barely smiling.

"Please..." Donatien barely managed to speak with his chapped lips and scorched throat "Please... kill me..."

Francois adjusted his tie "Death is a mercy you don't deserve, Donatien. You'll rot to death here in due time, and you'll end up in a different Hell in the afterlife"

Donatien tried to crawl towards Francois but was simply too weak.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Donatien. Should we ever meet again in Hell or in the next life" Francois turned to leave "You don't mess with me" and with that he left.

Upon reaching the master bedroom, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed "Hello"

"I thought you wanted to eat out tonight?"

You shake your head and raise your arms "Come here, please"

Not capable of saying no to you, he does so. He kneels down in front of you. You cradle his head in both hands before burying your face in his hair.

"What're you doing?"

"Our sense of smell is among the most primal and most strongly linked to our memories. I'm trying to see if I can find my old lover back by smelling your hair"

He chuckles before gently taking your wrists "I'm always here" He breathes against your ear.

You feel yourself smile truly for the first time in a while.

*Donatien is the first name of Marquis de Sade who wrote 120 Days of Sodom.