Killdip/Billdip/Willdip oneshots

Killdip- Trauma

This takes place when Kill and Tyrone are both 15 years old!

Tyrone's POV:

Kill held me closer to his chest, trying to protect me from the flying glass his father was throwing. "I will not have a disgusting, faggot son!" His father, Azrael screamed. Azrael grabbed Kill by the collar, pinning him against the wall. "S-Stop! You're hurting him!" I screamed, but Azrael just pushed me away. Kill looked down at me, his eyes burning with rage and sadness. I could see how much he was hurting, how much pain he was in, and I was ashamed that I was too weak to do anything. "This is between me and you, father. Leave Tyrone out of this." Kill turned his head away, groaning as Azrael's fingers started digging into his neck. 

"I'll do what I want, fag. If I want to kill your petty little boyfriend, then I will. And you won't do anything about it, will you? Out of all of our family, you are the weakest. And I hope you realize that you will never be anything but a pathetic excuse for a demon." Azrael smiled innocently, breaking a beer bottle and pressing the glass against Kill's upper cheek. "Maybe you need a little pain to toughen you up, eh?" Azrael started pushing the shard farther into Kill's face, making him yell in agony. I slowly reached over to grab the knife Azrael had used to cut Kill's stomach early, hoping that maybe I could shove it in Azrael's side. But soon, Kill's voice got quieter, eventually going dead silent. "K-Kill...?" I whispered, gripping the knife in my head as I stood up. But that's when I saw it.

Azrael had taken Kill's eye out and was holding it in his hand. He was smiling as if he'd just won the lottery. Kill was still awake, just in shock and pain. His shaky hand started darting around his face, seeing if his eye was actually gone or not, but it was in Azrael's bloody mitts. "Now, Kill..." Azrael gently grabbed Kill's chin. "I want you to run...run and never come back. Run until you leave this world, this dimension, this galaxy. I want you to-" 

Azrael's face softened as he looked down at his chest, where the wound was. Azrael's head hit the ground with a loud thud. Kill looked up at me, speaking in a weak and horrified tone. "Y...You stabbed h-him." Kill barely choked out. I looked down at the gray blood slowly dripping down my hands, and onto the wooden floor. I killed him, I thought to myself. I really killed him. 

"Kill, we have to go." I picked him up, holding him close. His blood leaked through my clothes, leaving a black smudge on my chest. "But...but my b-brothers are I...in t-there." Kill turned back, the house lights now fading away. "Kill...I know you love them. But we can't take care of them yet. We can come back for them once we find a place to live, but until then..." I stopped, looking back at the house one last final time. 

"We're homeless."