Characters x Canon caboodle

×Silly Masochist×

[Cult!AU Joseph Christiansen x Jacques Red]
[Expect some rather nasty shit, these two are mentally gone.]
[Keep that in mind.]
[Joseph Christiansen belongs to Dream Daddy, not me.]

[Angst?Fluff?Lime?]

"Well, this was not how I planned to spend my afternoon."

It had been, three weeks? Months? Years? It was impossible to tell.
Yet, another cleanup was the price of yet another sacrifice, it was impossible to avoid it. If you did, it was a matter of a disgustingly potent Cult association area. Then again, only two truly followed the belief told by the ancient carvings in the concrete walls.
Joseph Christiansen and Jacques Red.
The two had dissapeared from the public eye god knows how long ago, phones only being used on the rare occasion just to assure the neighbourhood that they were indeed just off on a trip somewhere.

It was a different case for Mary Christiansen. She knew what her husband was doing, she was well aware of the tainted other working alongside him too. Of course she would tell somebody, yet she couldn't. It isn't particularly easy to get a message out from six feet under, after all.

That was right. Their victim was rather specific. Loose lips sink ships, and the eloped cultists were far from willing to let anything that had achieved be sunken.

"Joseph? Joseeeephhhhhhh-"

"What is it Jax?"

"Where's the ritual blade?"

"In the dish."

"You said I could put it in the dish this time!"

"Ah, sorry. I'll let you do it next time."

"You said that last time and I STILL end up MOPPING-!"

"Well I'll mop next time!"

"You said that last time, too!"

It was probably rather childish for two grown men to be arguing over a blade that had, just moments ago, been used to slaughter one of which's spouses. Yet, there is hardly anything childish about being a murderer.
The two kept said bickering up for a good few minutes, calling back and forth through the echoing halls of the concrete area right up until Joseph plodded away from what he had been doing.
Which was making steaks.
Underground.
Good job, that will eventually kill you.

The blond male headed in what could hardly be considered a beeline for the centre of their hidden cult 'home', each twist and turn of those cursed halls risking him getting lost in the asymmetrical madness. Yet, with a practised precision, he arrived just on time to witness his partner throw a bloodied mop at the ground. What a child.

"Jacques Christiansen, pick that up."

"I-ah. Joseph I'm so-"

"Pick it up."

Jacques took a moment to inspect Joseph's expression, before sighing slightly and turning to pick up the mop. Leaning down to grab it, just for the purpose of flaunting himself as he picked up the bloodied item and propped it up in the mop bucket. Turning and cocking a brow at his blond assosciate.

"Hap-"

"You did that on purpose."

"What?"

"You stuck out your rear when you bent down."

"Now why would I ever do tha-"

"Don't play dumb, Jacques."

"I'm, I, ah-"

Jacques was caught at a loss for words, finding himself taking a pace back as Joseph matched it with two forwards. A hand making a blunt motion to grip tightly onto the baffled male's waist, the fingertips curling around the careful bone there causing him to emit a choked squeek.

"Do you want to try that again?"

"I-ah-ma-aybe?"

It wasn't particularly easy to tame a masochist, however by now Joseph had been working alongside the peculiar Scotsman for long enough to have him wrapped around his pinky finger.
The youth Minister allowed a sickly sweet tone to slip from his lips, shifting himself further forwards to press the faint warmth of their dark coats together. This earning yet another trembled sound from Jacques.

"Jaaaaaax~"

It was noticeable just by the shift of the shorter male's expression that this had already had an effect, his face now showing an almost sorrowful look.

"You know that you can't just keep taunting me, right?"

Joseph continued with his little plan, it only taking a matter of moments for his left arm to have wrapped around Jacques' upper back. Jacques' face a crimson red as he struggled to form a simple word, the leg placed between his own threatening to cause him to emit more noise.

"It's time for something, a little less, serious."

Jacques was caught at a loss for words, finding himself taking a pace back as Joseph matched it with two forwards. A hand making a blunt motion to grip tightly onto the baffled male's waist, the fingertips curling around the careful bone there causing him to emit a choked squeek.

"Do you want to try that again?"

"I-ah-ma-aybe?"

It wasn't particularly easy to tame a masochist, however by now Joseph had been working alongside the peculiar Scotsman for long enough to have him wrapped around his pinky finger.
The youth Minister allowed a sickly sweet tone to slip from his lips, shifting himself further forwards to press the faint warmth of their dark coats together. This earning yet another trembled sound from Jacques.

"Jaaaaaax~"

It was noticeable just by the shift of the shorter male's expression that this had already had an effect, his face now showing an almost sorrowful look.

"You know that you can't just keep taunting me, right?"

Joseph continued with his little plan, it only taking a matter of moments for his left arm to have wrapped around Jacques' upper back. Jacques' face a crimson red as he struggled to form a simple word, the leg placed between his own threatening to cause him to emit more noise.

"It's time for something, a little less, serious."

"A-and wh-a-at is tha-at-?"

Joseph raised an eyebrow at the choked response, sighing for a moment before dipping the male downwards. Flawlessly supporting the smaller male's form as he leaned his face towards the other's. Their lips just millimeters away from eachother, their hot breaths clouding between the two as it always did with the cold surroundings of the concrete haven.

"O-oh."