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The cycle goes 'round and 'round.
A normal life. Splattered by alcohol, shattered with bottles and messily spat words. His father, rough around the edges, tore everything he passed by into filthy shreds. That was the way Dio garnered the gashes slicing through him.
Some were on his skin, visible lashes and bruises tainting his shattered, porcelain complexion. Some went deeper— cuts from unfortunate nights blurred by booze. Dio's father always fancied knives and razors. It's what you should use to cut cattle, he always told Dio when he whined too loud or griped too miserably. It was repulsive.
Then there were some that went down to the very core. That miserable flaw was the Brando family's downfall. Dio's mother, murdered by his own father. It was one of those nights where time seemed to stop from the chill and frost started to stick to your lashes. In that sense, Dio felt like his whole life had been put on pause. There was no one to press play for him anymore except his own unadulterated rage. That day, Dio was beaten again. He remembered it because Dio was desperately holding back laughter. Or tears. He could never really identify what he was feeling that day. What he could identify were the words echoing in his mind, I am going to murder my monster of a father.
Everyday after that, Dio slipped tiny amounts of rat poison into his father's meals. His mother wasn't there to cook for that pig anymore, so Dio was more than eager to take it upon himself. He took advantage of the situation, and results were quickly popping up. Dario's condition was deteriorating until he was as unresponsive and useless as a snivelling dog that had just been kicked in the gut. Dio laughed at him, then, because he knew there wouldn't be any beatings awaiting. He could just laugh off all of his built up resentment until he shook off the burdens Dario forced into his battered skin.
All his father could do was grunt in affirmation or disapproval until, too, he was unable to do that. Dio wondered why he hadn't done this all along, pondering about if his mother was smiling down on him as an angel in heaven when Dario finally died.
A few days later he was adopted by the Joestar family. That was the first time he met Jonathan Joestar.
-
They stopped talking, or did they?
Yeah they did, and it's obvious why I'm a mess
They couldn't resist
-
He looks so delicious. His hair smells like the rich boy flowery shampoos you can only get in fancy hotels. He's so blue and wonderful. The blue of oceans that I want to devour with all the salt and sapphire. His skin looks so soft, it would cut so smoothly underneath a razor. I want to hold his cheeks while I cut him apart to serve.
It had been a few months since Dio had settled in.
At first, he hated Jonathan. He was too sweet and too smiley and he only ever tried to look at the good when the bad was so clearly smack-dab in front of him. It reminded Dio too much of her. He didn't want to feel like that again, not when it had been so long since her death. The first few weeks Dio had stayed away from Jonathan and kept to himself. He didn't want people like Jonathan in his life, and he made it no secret with his hostile attitude.
"Why are you avoiding me so much? I haven't even done anything to you!" Jonathan approached him one day, boldly throwing accusations at Dio.
"You don't need to. I hate you," Dio replied bluntly at the time. Jonathan had stood there for a moment, recollecting himself before pushing forward.
"What if I proved myself to you? I don't want things to be icy between us, Dio. We don't have to hate each other forever," it was laughable how blamelessly he had said it. Jonathan was so full of pure intent and trust that Dio was tempted to play with it. And he had, many, many times afterwards.
Dio burst into a fit of rabid laughter. He couldn't help himself. It was all so, so stupid. This boy, asking for his validation? From when was he fit for deciding who was right or wrong when all he's ever known were wrongs and immoralities?
Jonathan stood there, waiting in confused patience through Dio's fit. Finally, Dio composed himself, standing straight and looking Jonathan in the eyes. "Fine, I'll take you up on that offer. Prove yourself to me and we'll see.
Oh, how much of a fool he was then. He hadn't realized yet that Jonathan was all he'd ever want from then on.
The two hung out a lot. Dio built a quiet and cold persona in that time, sticking to listening to Jonathan's troubles rather than talking about his own. Whenever Jonathan asked about his own misfortunes he just made something up, anyways. His only problem right now was Jonathan. It was confusing, really, because Jonathan was also the solution to that problem.
The blue-headed boy talked about this one girl lots, Erina Pendleton. She seemed perfect for Jonathan. An untainted beauty, softly singing to coax Jonathan and draw him nearer. Dio had to admit that Jonathan had good taste, but he wasn't going to let Erina be the one to get to Jonathan first.
That was how the voices started.
Each day, Dio's paranoia grew louder and louder. It started as a seed of worry in him, sprouting slowly and seizing his heart as hostage. He wondered if today would be the day Jonathan would confess to Erina, and the shadows always made sure to remind him of his flaws.
What if they're holding hands right now? That could be you if you didn't hold yourself back so much.
Look at him. Would you still want to taste him if you knew he'd been tainted by that woman?
Just do it. Walk into his room and wring his neck. What's stopping you?
Every moment they weren't together deepened his anxiety the want to claw at his own skin, ripping away the layers of tissue upon tissue that tucked his heart away. Dio was tempted to tear off his nails and watch all the scratches and bruises from his life as a Brando to resurface and haunt him with their ugly greens and reds and purples.
That was why, at midnight, Dio snuck into Jonathan's room. He was as quiet as a mouse, years of living with his piggish father amounting to being able to sneak around soundlessly.
He didn't really like the rooms in the Joestar manor. They weren't able to express Jonathan at all with the bland closets and rugs, too-regal desks and lamps. Although, Dio did notice that there was a distinct scent to it. Jonathan. So many possibilities crowded his mind with every step he took towards Jonathan's sleeping form. The scent made him drool in the corner of his mouth. The handsome cologne, distinctly saccharine and manly and simply so Jonathan. He would be having a feast tonight.
Dio was attracted to him like a tiger about to pounce on his prey. He looked down at Jonathan, sleeping soundlessly. He didn't even twist or turn in his sleep. He was simply so perfect. His face was wracked with tranquility, I wonder if he's dreaming about Erina. Imagine how he would thrash when you wring his neck. Would he still be so quiet? Dio's fingers inched closer to Jonathan's exposed neck, itching to caress his velvety skin and pull him out of his tranquility.
Jonathan's skin was cold, pushing Dio away. Dio smiled. He knew it would heat up when he clasped his sweaty palms around it, fingernails almost tearing through his layers of supple skin. He wanted to hear Jonathan scream until his voice drifted off into silent squeals. He wanted to dig his fingertips so deep into Jonathan's skin that he wouldn't know where Jonathan's skin started and his ended because they had become one at that point in his hysterical, raving nirvana.
Jonathan started to stir underneath him, snapping Dio out of his obsessive fantasies.
Dio spun around, walking outside of Jonathan's room and soundlessly shutting the door behind him.
Maybe another day.
-
I'm the one who starts
I'll give you what you want
Yeah, I'll do
And you will let me go on and on
It starts on a kiss
-
Dio decided to join the rugby team so he could be with Jonathan.
That was a while ago, though. Right now Jonathan and he had just won a game, both of the aforementioned boys staying behind for the "afterparty". Dio didn't know why Jonathan always insisted to stay behind, so Dio just nodded along and joined him. He had to be a good brother and all that.
Today was different.
"Meet me after the game, behind the bleachers. I have something important to tell you."
"Uhm... Dio, are you okay? You sound unlike yourself."
"Save your questions for after the game."
"... Okay?"
Dio had called Jonathan to meet him after the game. It was a moment of weakness, possessed by depravation and the regular hysterical fits of imagine holding Jonathan in your arms as the life drains out of him, imagine burying your nose into his blue crop and suffocating yourself, imagine— imagine, imagine, imagine.
But Dio was now composed. A waiting Jonathan standing before the blonde, reminding him that Jonathan was his present and his future and all of those bad, horrible things were just the unfortunate past.
"Why did you call me here?" Jonathan asked, slowly losing his patience like a clock ticking to its alarm. Dio revelled in it while he could, being careful to not tip the clock off too early. Although he would look delicious boiling with rage. Dio pondered how it would feel to be beaten to a bloody pulp by Jonathan. Would it be any different than what his father offered him?
"Shush. Look, over there, boy," Dio snapped at him, pointing towards a familiar blonde crop of hair.
Jonathan's eyes followed his finger, "Erina? But what's your business with her?"
"You know, I can give you want you want. I'll set you up with her if you can do me a favour," Dio snapped Jonathan's attention back to him. He loved the righteous curiosity that Jonathan was so good at expressing. He looked like a lost puppy that Dio wanted nothing but to kick in the stomach as it squirmed like his intoxicated father.
"And what's that favour?"
"Let me use you, Jonathan. Kiss me."
Dio closed in on Jonathan, every word resulting in a new, dramatized step. Jonathan must have noticed the implied suspense building because he started backing away, a cold sweat wracking over the blue-haired boy. Oh, Jonathan looks so good when he was confused, but when he's distressed it's simply delectable. I can almost see my hands wrapped around his neck as he clawed at me angrily. Dio's heart almost tore out of his chest to destroy Jonathan, he was so honest and beautiful like this.
"What are you saying, Dio?! You know we can't do that!"
"Jonathan, we're not actually brothers, you know. We can do whatever we want to each other, no one even has to know!" Dio was famished. Drool was already dripping down his chin as he almost pinned Jonathan to the bleachers.
"B-but... you're a boy!"
"There's no need to be so old-fashioned, Jonathan. I'm into boys, you know." I'm into you.
"O-oh... and if I do this you'll set me up with Erina?" Albeit hesitantly, Jonathan was folding.
Dio grinned, looking longingly up at Jonathan's sapphire eyes, shaking and squirming with anxiety. The blonde cupped Jonathan's cheek, rubbing his thumb up and down his face. The skin was warm, probably from Dio frying out his brain or something like that. Jonathan was always so comical.
"So...?" The blonde leered, nearly taking initiative to kiss him even without consent.
"O-Okay... kiss me."
Dio was quick to push himself onto Jonathan's lips. They locked wetly, Dio hungrily biting away at Jonathan's lips. He wondered if Jonathan had done this to Erina, and was silently gratified knowing that Jonathan was probably too much of a fumbling virgin to have done that yet. Even when they had pushed away to gasp for air, Dio still went back for more, intoxicated by Jonathan's taste because this was probably the closest he would ever get to eating him alive. At one point, Dio had even pulled Jonathan down by the collar to deepen the kiss, almost risking grinding down on him. Dio was desperate, he wasn't going to let this kiss go to waste.
Finally, Jonathan pushed away from him, looking at him uncertainly, like Dio was a puzzle he just couldn't solve. Still gasping for air, he begun talking, his sloppy, bruised and wet lips curling around the messy words pouring out of his mouth. Dio loved seeing Jonathan like this, pink-tinted and almost angry.
"Thuh-That was my first kiss..." Dio was right.
"I know."
"So does that man you'll get me with Erina, now?"
No, Dio honestly had no intention to ever bring Erina closer to Jonathan, he wouldn't want his meal to be rotted by her. The blonde just wanted the kiss and the betrayed, disappointed face Jonathan would wear when he finally learned that Dio was lying to get him on his lips. But he wouldn't tell him that, yet.
"A promise is a promise."
Dio left shortly afterwards, Jonathan taking a bit longer to finally leave. A sweet tinge infected the dewy air for the rest of the day. For Dio, at least.
-
Please let me walk around
Let everyone stare into my soul
Fantasizing
It's fascinating, oh, how everyone needs to be like this
-
Dio's shoes clacked on the tiled floor as he walked down the never-ending halls lined with lockers and nobodies.
The nobodies liked to talk about him. They revelled in his bright blonde locks and his aloof personality, but Dio still didn't get it.
He pondered on what they all would think if Dio revealed his relationship with Jonathan. About fantasies where he carved the blue-haired boy's bones out and licked them clean. About ravings where he marvelled at Jonathan screaming and thrashing to be let free until his body was finally pulled down to be torn apart and he truly was free.
His mouth ached to shout out about all the disgusting things he wanted to do to Jonathan. From the different ways to murder him to the way he would be arranged and served on Dio's plate. He wanted to announce it to the whole entire world for the momentary rush until it all fell apart into tiny, miserable pieces and he had to face the consequences and all of the horrid, disappointed faces.
Up ahead, Dio saw the hint of the dark blue that ruled over his dreams. His steps fastened in pace, a new ache forming in his ankles to run faster, keep going, grab ahold of his hair and rip it off of his beautiful scalp and hear him scream— Erina Pendleton was talking to him.
Dio froze over. He examined them for a moment from behind the backs of nobodies. The blonde marvelled at how animated Jonathan was when he spoke. No! No, no, no, no, no! It wasn't supposed to be like this! Jonathan was his! Get away from him, you bitch!
The quick flush of anger and desperation washed over him, leaving Dio to interrupt the two because he wasn't in the kindest mindset right now. He tugged Jonathan's collar to force the boy's attention onto him, roughly pulling him into a kiss.
He waited for the aftermath.
-
The craziest part 'bout all of this
Is that everyone thinks I'm the crazy one
-
People were already talking.
"Did you see what happened?
Dio totally kissed Jonathan!
Do you think they're gay?
I definitely see it!
Fag—"
Dio had stopped listening at that point. He didn't have any time for the people that couldn't understand. The only time he could spare were the fleeting moments with Jonathan, who was most definitely angry with him.
"Why'd you kiss me in front of everyone?!
It was supposed to be a secret!
Now Erina knows!
Do you ever even think of what you're going to do before you do them?!
You need to learn self-control! Think about what you've done!"
They were all common things Jonathan spewed when Dio pushed his buttons because of his Jonathan depravation. Those were on good days, at least. Most of the time Dio hadn't even the luxury of his voice, only bland silence and cold stares.
It was as if time had stopped between them, and only them. Whenever the blonde walked down the halls he was reminded of how time was still passing normally for others. They were still talking and laughing and gossiping and ridiculing, 'round and 'round they go. Dio wondered how long it would take for the nobodies to drop it, and how much longer it would take for Jonathan.
On one of these iced over days, Jonathan had left his desk to go to the bathroom— "Teacher, may I got to the bathroom?" "Of course, Jonathan!"
Dio had been tempted to go after him— itching to raise his hand and call out that he, too, needed to go to the bathroom, but an invisible force clamped it shut. Instead, his eyes were trained on Jonathan's desk. Inside were all of his things... all of the things Jonathan used daily, consistently touched by those heavenly fingers. Dio salivated, Would it taste like Jonathan, too?
Quickly, Dio reached his hand inside of Jonathan's desk and pulled the first things his fingers touched out; his eraser. It was small and grubby from overuse— Jonathan ever the perfectionist. The blonde had always found it endearing how they had a little rivalry going on with Jonathan constantly bettering himself for him. He had such good taste in men.
Returning back to his desk, Dio stared at the eraser. He sniffed at it, smelling rubber and the faint sweat of the blue haired's grubby fingers rubbing all over it. The blonde savoured the scent, almost breaking out into hungrily gnawing at the rubber right then and there. But he had to control himself. This was your closest chance to devouring him, damn it. Play it cool, the time will come, he reminded himself throughout the class— the thoughts only strengthening when Jonathan walked back into class and Dio had to suppress the intense urge to eat his eraser right in front of his dear innocent, unknowing Jonathan.
The bell rung for lunch and Dio's salvation. He got up savagely, mimicking a feral animal in the hungry way he walked out of the classroom. Dimly, Dio wondered if the nobodies would talk about his out-of-character display, too. If the gasps and silence gaps were anything to go by, yes.
The blonde hid himself in the boys' bathrooms, specifically walking into the biggest stall because he knew that was the one Jonathan always used. It made the experience all the better, the realization of— Holy shit, I'm eating Jonathan's disgusting, sweaty eraser in the same place he took a piss in— setting in strongly for horny, depraved Dio.
He bit down on the erasers, running his tongue through the rough spots that signalled far too many stories with this exact eraser— all led by none other than Jonathan. Dio sunk his teeth into the rubber, slowly separating them until one piece was fully propped onto his tongue and the blonde was hungrily swallowing, imagining that it was Jonathan's own heart that were betwixt his fingers rather than his eraser.
He would eat Jonathan like this, too. Licking and sucking at it as if to recall our memories together before he was digested by me, and then lapped at like a hungry dog. How would Jonathan like to be eaten by a filthy pig? Imagine the looks of agony on his face as you do it, Dio! And then when you bite down and all the blood comes rushing out and into your mouth! Make sure to swallow all of it. Jonathan should never touch anything but you, after all.
Before he knew it, the eraser was now just rubber shrapnel in his fingers. Dio dusted his hands off, finally swallowing the rest of the eraser. It was dry, but so, so good.
It was only now that Dio heard footsteps scurrying out of the bathrooms. The blonde laughed for a long time after that. He was fucked.
-
Please let me walk around
Let everyone stare right into my soul
Fantasizing
-
Dio's shoes clacked on the tiled floor as he walked down the never-ending halls lined with lockers and nobody.
He didn't need to ponder about whether they knew about his relationship anymore, because they did. The need to shout out his relationship with Jonathan and all of his disgusting, violent thoughts were gone and replaced with one need— Jonathan. He was going to satiate that need tonight.
Dio had called Jonathan over the day before, asking him to be in their class after school was over. The blue haired boy had been confused, but he accepted anyways. He must've thought that Dio was calling him to sort things out. Silly, silly boy. Dio had no intention to do any of that—
It all started when he had eaten that eraser. People were already talking about him and Jonathan, but it was already starting to die out! The blonde couldn't have been happier, yet he screwed it all up in his depraved, piggish hunger. Someone had caught him in that stall— somehow, someway, someone knew about the escapade and the theft and the fact that he had specifically chosen Jonathan's bathroom. How long had this been going on? He wondered.
Then all of the aftermath came crashing into Dio's one-track mind. More people were talking. Jonathan was keeping his distance— and with who? Erina Pendleton. Erina and Jonathan were growing closer than before. That kiss was supposed to keep them apart, not bring them closer! They're like damn magnets, always attracting to each other even when there's a roadblock in the way! It was aggravating. Dio wanted to rip his hair and scratch his skin and stab his eyes every time he saw the two together.
That was why, today he was going to end it. Everything had been destroyed beyond repair— and Dio was not going to wait for Jonathan to set it right again. He knew that the blue haired boy would try, because he could never stay mad for too long. His naive innocence worked for Dio, too, but he wasn't going to wait for that to happen. Erina and him could already be going out by that point! And so, the blonde took it upon his own hands to beat Erina to her own race.
With every step his arousal bounced. Dio couldn't contain himself, greedily searching for the door to their classroom so he could finally satiate himself. The shadows mocked him, taking the form of the nobodies just to leer and jeer and call him a pig. They told him that he was nothing but a spitting image of his insatiable, violent father. Dio couldn't help but agree. Those nobodies may have been the ones to push him and Jonathan apart, but now they were going to be together again. Forever, and Dio will never let him have to be separated from the boy again. He'll never have to suffer like that again, never have to feel his anguished heart dying in his chest every time he saw Jonathan and Erina together.
Dio stood before the door, pushed slightly ajar— Jonathan was in there. He pushed the door open.
Jonathan was sitting on one of the desks, gazing out into the open fields where they had been playing ball only hours ago. The moonlight accentuated his milky skin and his sapphire hair, the light shifting as he turned to look at Dio. He looked like a god, a god sent down from the heavens only to be sent back by Dio's hands today. The blonde was absolutely mesmerized.
"You're... beautiful," Dio murmured, doubting Jonathan could hear anything but an unintelligible hushed voice.
"Why'd you call?" Jonathan was quick to cut to the chase. His sharp eyes cut through Dio, although the dewy midnight dulled it into saccharine, roughly-cut sapphires that the blonde could just get lost in.
"Well... where do I start?" Dio took a dramatic pause, getting ready to explain the whole situation. Jonathan probably deserved that much before his downfall. He deserved to rest in peace. "Things haven't been the best between us, which is clear. I understand that you don't want to be around me—" Dio skillfully glanced up at Jonathan, looking for any semblance of a reaction, "—but I can't allow that. Today, Jonathan, we'll become one."
One step. Dio took a menacing step towards Jonathan. Two steps. Jonathan was starting to feel the tension. Three steps. Jonathan was backing away. Four steps. Jonathan was jumbling out his words, Dio didn't say a thing. Five steps. Dio had cornered Jonathan. Six steps. Dio pulled off a razor.
"D-Dio! What is the meaning of this?! How are we to become one— a-and why are you— is that a razor?! Dio!" Jonathan screamed and begged and pleaded. He was so alarmed and lost, Dio couldn't help but smile and reminisce. It was like the day of their first kiss, the blonde realized fondly.
Dio was too far gone. He was completely detached, focusing solely on where the cuts on Jonathan's skin would start and where they would end. The shouts were all just music to his ears before they were torn away along with his shredded vocal cords. He wondered if the boy would still be screaming, then, when he put the strings and cords in his mouth. Maybe it would bubble and tickle as it slid down his esophagus.
Dio started with Jonathan's cheek, licking off the first beads of blood before they could even reach his chin. Dio wondered why he hadn't done this all along, just like the day he killed his own father.
The cycle goes 'round and 'round.
-
It's fascinating, oh, how everyone needs to be like this
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