((FIRST: look at the poll on my profile!))
This is a 2p!FACE family fic, under the pairing FrUk because...well...sex...yaoi, gay sex between a crazy French loon and an Englishman that went completely bonkers
So, yeah, read the general warnings
If you don't like anything that is going to be in this story, leave. Now. I don't want any flames. NO FUCKING FLAMES!
Warnings for the Whole Story: gore, horror, smut, yaoi, murder, insanity, 2ps, mentions of prostitution, mentions of rape, dark themes
Warnings for this Chapter: murder, insanity, dark themes, 2ps, mentions of prostitution, gore, horror, insanity
Enjoy responsibly~!
Songs:
Troubled Minds: Marina and the Diamonds
Miss Jackson: Panic at the Disco
Baby of Mine: Alison Krauss (A/N: although I do enjoy the Dumbo version as well)
Chapter One: Prologue -Prt. 1
Oliver Kirkland was totally crazy. The doctors said so, his doting family said so, even he said so. The be-speckled Brit didn't get angry easily but when he did it was like a tornado of destruction. He also had these urges at night, not so much "sexual urges" per-say but more like...bloodlust. He owned a bakery so once a month he poisoned a cupcake -as long as he knew a child wasn't going to eat it because he just ADORED children -but that didn't satisfy his urges. The only way to end them was by seeing blood drip down his knife and onto the ground. He became a 'Jack the Ripper' sort of type in Chicago, United States, targeting the prostitutes of the city that were often overlooked -those on the West Side compared to those on the North Side. But a prostitute was a prostitute either way; and, Oliver -who preferred to be called Ollie in any and all 'normal' (by society's standards) circumstances -took delight in tying them down, slipping a gag passed their pretty lips and watching them sob and try to scream as he mutilated their sex beyond recognition. It wasn't that he hated their tubes and genital flaps, Oliver simply enjoyed the look of abject horror painted on their faces as he shoved his knife inside of their cavity and flayed the representation of their gender. He did this before he deeply slashed their jugulars, ending their lives with a smile; then, he'd slice open their bellies and wrap uterus, kidneys and large intestines in plastic before placing that in a brief case. He'd leave a note, always signed at the end, 'from the Ripper -with love~' a heart always dotting the 'i's, before leaving in the black wig and black contacts he came in. Oliver did this about once or twice a week, just so he could satisfy his urges and have enough of their organs for meat pies, and it was a routine he was happy with.
Soon, that changed.
He had just finished up with the latest whore -a woman that could've beautiful in the past but had limp, dirtied dyed blonde hair and blank blue eyes surrounded by tired, black circles -when he heard rustling over by an industrial sized, alley dumpster. Curious, Oliver moved aside the rubbish and found a little, dirtied auburn haired boy hugging his knees and crying into them. His heart yanked and twisted itself, maternal instincts roaring like a tsunami. "Oh my..." he gasped setting his metal briefcase on the ground as he kneeled in front of the boy, "Pardon me, cupcake, but are you alright? Is there anything I can do to help? Are you lost?"
The boy nodded, fists rubbing his eyes as he looked up at Oliver, revealing his eyes to be an adorable burgundy color, bottom lip trembling. "M-My m-mommy was drinkin' and she yelled at Matt and I to 'get the fuck out'. Matt and I were sc-scareded so we r-ran but I don't know where he is n-no more..."
"Oh, you poor little lamb..." Oliver gasped scooping the boy up in his arms and pressing the boy to his chest, "What a wretched woman...what is your name, cupcake? And how old are you?"
"I ain't no cupcake!" he snapped but his fists curled into Oliver's white dress shirt desperately, "I-I'm Allen though...my brother calls me Al because he can't really say Allen 'cause of his accent, and all. I'm seven and so is Matt 'cause we're twins."
"Oh your mum is truly a vile sack of skin! To cast aside such a darling little angel..." Oliver mumbled in distaste, a shimmer of recognition in his mind as he looked at Al's face and saw the familiar shape of Al's nose and the point of his chin. "Tell me, was your mum's name Emily Jones by any chance...?"
"Yeah..."
Brilliant. "Al, I'm going to tell you something important," he said standing up with the child cradled in his right arm, bending to retrieve the brief case full of Allen's mother's organs, "it is most important that you listen and keep this between us men."
"...o-ok..."
"Al, I get rid of bad people like your mum," he lied, "She treated you so miserably that I just had to do something. Someone else is taking care of your brother" -who was probably being raped and murdered -"very well and, when the time is right, you'll meet him again. But your mum won't hurt you again, I made sure of that."
"But who the Hell is gonna take care of me now?"
Very good question... "I will, of course," Oliver said kissing the boy's cheek, seeing Allen's growing blush and giggling at it, "Oh, and, first rule: no potty mouth, young man, or else money in the swear jar~."
"What if I don't got no money?"
"Then you have to stand still, in a corner, for an hour."
"W-What?! No fuckin' way!"
"That's five cents~!"
"...fu-."
"Do you want to make it ten cents?"
"...no..."
Oliver giggled, rubbing his nose against Allen's in an eskimo kiss. "That's what I thought, cupcake~!" he said in a sing song voice, "Say, Al -hun -do you mind calling me 'daddy'? Or Papa, either will do."
"...you're a weird guy."
"So are you."
"Hey, I'm not weird!" Al insisted, "Don't call me weird or...or Imma beat you up, Daddy!"
Oliver felt his heart flutter and his face heat up; he so adored children, always wanting to have one of his own but knowing the physical limitation of his anatomy, and Allen calling him 'Daddy' sent his heart beating rapidly in an abundance of happiness. He carried Allen all the way to his apartment, which was above his bakery, unlocking the second door in the back of the bakery -there was a small foyer that held his mailbox between the front door and the inner door -and walking up the stairs lite by florescent lights that buzzed and flickered irritatingly. Unlocking the actual door to his apartment -he made sure to be extra safe, after all, you couldn't trust anyone these days -Oliver flicked on the light and set Al down in the entry way while he closed and locked the door. "Shoes off by the door," he said as he heard Al take a few steps in the apartment. Al ran back to Oliver's side, slipping off his sneakers full of holes and placing them by Oliver's brown, Italian loafers, before moving to explore the apartment. His apartment wasn't big, by any means, but it was bigger than Allen's old place he used to share with his mother and brother. There was a small kitchen with stainless steal appliances, granite countertops, coral paint and white linoleum floors, a living room with green walls -the shade labeled 'Scallion' green -and dark wood floors that went throughout the house except in the aforementioned kitchen, the bathroom and the two bedrooms. In the living room was a flat screen TV, a three seater sofa in front of it with a red floral pattern, red throw pillows and a white afghan blanket over the back, a coffee table covered with magazines and two wing chairs in solid red with white, embroidered throw pillows, there was also a wall of bookshelves and books. There were two rooms, one was Oliver's room while the other was acting as a guest room for Oliver's siblings when they came to visit, and one bathroom that was moderate in size. "I know it's not much...and we have yet to add your own personal touch on things," Oliver said placing his house keys in the key bowl beside the door and hanging up his black sport coat on the coat tree, "but I do hope that you find a home with me. You see, I've only ever had my cat, and I've always wanted a boy of my own."
"Thank you, Daddy..." Al said blushing and hugging the Brit around the hips, the only place he could hug without straining up on his tip toes, "U-Um...you...you have a kitty...?"
Oliver giggled, running his left hand through the little boy's hair as his right hand pulled off the wig Oliver used as a disguise. "I do, cupcake," he hummed wrapping his arms fully around Allen to pick him up and cradle him again, "you'll see him around eventually. He comes and goes as he pleases." The Brit began to walk to his second bedroom. "Why don't I tuck you in, hm? It's pretty late-."
"I don't wanna sleep by myself..." Allen mumbled his fists tightening in Oliver's shirt, "I've...I've always shared with my brother...I don't like sleepin' alone."
He shot Allen a small, gentle, motherly smile that made the little boy blush and look away; that's always how he wanted his mommy to look at him...but he only ever got those gentle smiles from Matt, most of them forced grins instead of easy -natural -smiles. "Of course, Al," Oliver said rubbing his new son's back soothingly, "I would never make you do anything you didn't want to, love; my room is just down this way." The Brit carried Al to his bedroom at the end of the short hallway; opening the door, Oliver nearly blinded Al with all the happy colors in his room. The walls of Oliver's room were painted carnation pink, covered by pictures of his family, of different flowers and wildlife, as well as, pastry recipes from magazines and a cat calender; the floor was covered by cream carpet, on the wall that the door was on was a vanity and mirror, on the right wall was a desk with slightly messy paper work piled on top as well as a turquoise laptop, on the wall across from the door was a queen sized bed made out of white painted wood (that matched the white painted wood of his vanity, desk and wooden desk chair) and had yellow silk sheets and a down stuffed, white duvet with an orange floral pattern and, on the left wall, was a white painted dresser and a door that lead to Oliver's small closet.
"It's...really colorful..." Allen said lamely, at a loss for words since he really didn't like things that were too bright.
"Isn't it~" he giggled setting Allen on the bed and petting the boy's auburn hair lovingly, before going to his dresser and searching through the drawers, "Hm...let's see...ah! Here, I hope you don't mind wearing an t-shirt of mine, it's too small for me now but it might not be too big for you...?"
"Sure." He let Oliver take off his cheap, thrift store clothing, leaving on his underwear, before helping Allen get the t-shirt over his head. Oliver's old t-shirt was soft, a sign of it being well worn in the past, and plain grey; it fit without slipping off his shoulders but the short sleeves were baggy and went down to his elbows and the t-shirt ended at his knees.
"Oh~! That fits better than I expected~!" the older male giggled, rubbing Allen's arms happily, "Let me change into my pajamas while you get into bed. How does that sound, sweetie?"
"Good, Daddy."
Oliver giggled, digging in his dresser for a pair of pajamas before leaving to go change in the bathroom. Meanwhile, Al climbed onto the bed, pulling up the duvet and sliding beneath it; the pillow cradled his head it was so big, and he couldn't help but continuously run his fingers over the silk of the sheets and rub his cheek against the yellow silk of the pillow case. It was only a couple of minutes before Oliver came back, throwing his clothes in the hamper, with all of his disguise off. His wig he had already removed but, when he was in the bathroom, he had removed his colored contacts and the concealer on his face, revealing his freckles, messy, strawberry blonde hair and beautiful, unique, bright blue eyes with pink swirls.
"You look different."
He blushed, smiling sheepishly as he smoothed down the cotton of his white, frilly, sleeveless nightdress. "Well, yes, I suppose I do," Oliver said with a nervous laugh, "Like all superheroes, I need a disguise or else the Villains will come after me and try to kill me. You...you don't my appearance, do you?"
"No!" Allen said quickly, shooting up into a sitting position and looking up at his 'dad' with big, doe eyes, "No, I think...I think you look p-pretty!"
The older male clamped his hands together and squealed, even though Allen's face was bright red and he kept biting his bottom lip. "Oh, you really are precious, cupcake~!" he sang diving onto the bed and scooping Allen up into his arms, nuzzling the boy's cheek, "You're so sweet and cute!"
"N-No I'm not!" the boy insisted, shoving at Oliver's chest but failing to escape the man's embrace, finally, Allen just gave up and allowed Oliver to fawn over him, "Daddy...can we please just go to bed now?"
"Yes, of course, if that's what you want," he said sliding Allen beneath the duvet, tucking him in before joining him, "you did have a rather long day. Tomorrow we will shop for proper clothes for you, we'll even see about enrolling you in a new school; that way, you can just take my last name and no one will be the wiser."
"Ok..." Allen mumbled yawning and cuddling up to Oliver's side, his head on the older man's shoulder, "whatever...good night, Daddy..."
Running his freckled, slender hand through Allen's tangled, untamed hair, Oliver smiled -like a mother -and kissed the boy's forehead lovingly. "Good night, my darling little cupcake. Sweet dreams..."
BUDABUMBADUMBA!
TA FREAKING DA
NOW I NEED TO SLEEP BECAUSE IT'S 2:30 IN THE MORNING AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF ANYMORE
Characters:
Allen: 2pAmerica
Oliver: 2pEngland
Emily Jones: prostitute Ollie killed, 2pFem America, Allen's biological mom
Matt: 2pCanada
I HOPE YOU LIKED IT
SORRY IF I PUT 2pENGLAND'S NAME AS 'ARTHUR' I MEANT IT TO BE OLIVER BUT MY BRAIN ISN'T WORKING
SORRY FOR SPELLING/GRAMMAR ERRORS
I LOVE YOU
REVIEW
I HOPE YOU LIKED IT
GOOD NIGHT
...i love you...please LOVE ME! TTwTT
...i really do need sleep...
~kitty