#yandere coraline x reader

[bluetooththereptile]

The other family?

I'm rewatching coraline and I thought why not have the same thing with the bat family? Of course it not going to be literally the same thing with the movie, just the idea of a neglected child wishing for attention going in a very very dark turn. Perhaps have a demonic of some sort touch to it? What do you say? Oh and...there wouldn't be a happy ending, well, in the logical sense at least, perhaps for a child that only wants love and is getting a little manipulated by dark forces it wouldn't be bad that their family is now treating them like they are the gift of the God on earth? It's not bad that daddy and mommy are now a little taller than before, or how Damian's nails are dark like coal and the cat Alfred is more intelligent than before or how they are not allowed in the batcave any longer, right? Who knows.

Just eat the food.

Eat your food sweetie.

Mommy and Alfred have been cooking just for you.

It doesn't matter why no one else is eating, eat the food sweetheart.

Eat the damn food!

#blue talks #yan #yandere #dc #yandere dc #yandere bat family #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #yandere family #child reader #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere selina kyle #yandere alfred pennyworth #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere duke thomas #coraline #dark

[silveryclear]

STNAF Coraline AU

MDNI ALL CONTENT REGARDING STNAF IS 18+ AND SO IS THIS BLOG

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Pairings: Normal Friend/ GN Reader | Other Friend/ GN Reader | Carter/GN Reader

CW: NSFW, manipulation, kidnapping, torture, sexual content, obsessive behavior

A/N: Yes, this is what I’ve been working on for the whole month of October. This is my first long fic and I’ll be posting the chapters daily. I hope y’all enjoy! Happy Halloween!

Around 4-5 chapters, three different endings (for each love interest)

Friend, Carter, Scrim belongs to @stnaf-vn

Art belongs to me

Chapter 1

“So… what do you think?”

Your best friend asks as he looks at you with excitement. You look up at the looming old manor in front of you, trying to find the right words to match his enthusiasm. However, you end up blurting out the first thing that pops into your head. “Pink. Very pink.”

He snorts in amusement. “Is that all?”

“Old.” You add.

Friend rolls his eyes playfully and moves behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Those are some amazing observation skills! Would our resident caveman like to tell us anything else?” He teases.

You laugh, feeling some of your initial uneasiness slowly reaching wash away with Friend’s humor. “Hungry.” You exclaim.

Friend smiles and you feel him gently push you into the large manor. “Then let us get settled in and we’ll order some pizza, my sweet Neanderthal~”

You let yourself get pushed into the manor whilst you do your best to keep your emotions in check, feeling your face heat up. The sweet tone he uses with you along with his soft touch and penchant for nicknames leave your heart beating in the tune of a bittersweet melody.

Friend goes to a lot of trips for his clothing line and sometimes you tag along. For a lot of the time, this is the only way you get to spend any time with your super busy friend. You put up with the long hours of traveling, jet lag and uncomfortable situations because not only is he your best friend since childhood, but you’re also very in love with him and have no way of telling him how you feel. Recently, though, it feels as if the gap between your two worlds has gotten bigger and you have no way of knowing how to close it. It seems like the more you try, the farther he slips from your grasp.

This time, you stay at an old manor called “The Pink Palace”, fairly near the city, but still hidden enough to feel like you have privacy. Friend was always a sucker for old fashioned houses and architecture so this was a way for him to keep his love alive while also doing his job.

You are currently sitting in a classy living room adorned by vintage decor with your best friend by your side, ready to watch a movie on the flat screen TV that looks very out of place.

You manage to take a peek of your best friend beside you and you begin to feel butterflies in your stomach. Moments like this when the two of you are alone are the ones you treasure the most. You feel as if you are the center of his world, with no distractions from his job and the modern world to come between the two of you. You hoped this would be the best time to admit your feelings for your best friend, but every time you tried, you’d get a wave of anxiety and mental images of your best friend rejecting you, making this trip awkward.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes, effectively snapping you out of your inner turmoil.

Carter: I could sense you chickening out from a mile away.

You roll your eyes at your college friend’s ability to know exactly what you are doing. How does he do that??

You: I’m just waiting for the right moment, okay?

Carter: No, you’re waiting for the last possible moment and torturing yourself. Drag this out, and you’ll be the “best man” on his wedding day.

You: …

The thought made your stomach churn and you write back quick.

You: It won’t come to that! I swear I’m telling him this time. No take backs.

Carter: Good. You can do this. 👍

You chuckle.

You: Thanks, Carter. I’ll let you know how it goes.

The movie keeps playing as you work up the courage to finally tell him how you feel. You take a deep breath and open your mouth… and his work phone rings. You sigh. Another confession thwarted.

Friend looks at you apologetically. “I’m sorry I’m doing this during movie night. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I’m done with work, okay?” He kisses the top of your head and leaves in a flash, right before you barely have time to register your own fluster.

You sigh. Alone again. You don’t want to get in between him and his work, but it feels like it gets in between the only time the two of you get together. Even now, the reason you both are staying in this palace is because of work. You don’t mean to be ungrateful, but when will you be a priority?

A bolt of lightning strikes near and shakes the manor slightly, making you jump. Rain starts to pour in buckets and you chuckle dryly as you think that even the universe knows what you’re going through.

“This sucks.” You mutter, before getting on your feet and walking around the palace, exploring the multiple rooms available. You try to push your feelings for Friend and your thoughts of loneliness away while you observe your surroundings, taking in the grand building in which you’re currently staying in.

This place would almost seem isolating and scary to you if it wasn’t for the fact that it was very… pink. Or at the very least, tried to include the color in every place that it could. No wonder Friend loved this place so much.

“I wonder if something like this is where he’d like to settle down and have a family.” You blush and shake your head.

You’re getting too ahead of yourself… you haven’t even confessed!

Not paying attention, you walk into a room that looks different from the rest of the house. For one, it doesn’t have an ounce of pink. And the color motif are the primary colors, along with the color black. It sounds strange, but in person, it actually looks cohesive. A jar of buttons sat on the dresser along with many sewing materials. The room seemed to reflect this craft as you noticed that buttons where everywhere around you. Your attention is quickly robbed by the most adorable bunny plushie you have ever seen! It has cute little button eyes and it’s so soft and fluffy to the touch, you can’t help but squeeze and nuzzle into it.

You giggle softly, feeling much better now than you were before. You decide to take the plushie just during this trip since you’re the only person in the palace. No one else will miss it.

You go back to the living room to finish the movie by yourself along with your little plushie. And maybe a bottle of vodka you found in the back of a cupboard. The two of you watch the movie while you drink who knows how much, before you feel yourself begin to drift off.

A loud clap of thunder wakes you up suddenly. Lifting your head off the couch and wiping away some of the drool on your chin, you groan and massage your temples gently, doing your best to ward off the hangover that is slowly creeping up to you. You notice the credits of the movie are playing so you grab the remote and turn it off. You had fallen asleep in the middle of it. You begin to snuggle back into the couch again only to realize your little fluffy friend is missing. You look everywhere around you but it’s nowhere to be found. Strange.

You go back into the strange room and you find the rabbit sticking out from underneath the bed. You must’ve imagined you took it with you and you actually dropped it. When you go to pick it up, you notice something weird on the other wall as you peek from under the bed. You stand up again and walk towards the wall where the wallpaper protruded in some areas, almost as if it was covering up something.

You take some scissors from the desk and you crouch down to cut along the dented areas of the wallpaper. You scoot back and look at what it’s revealed.

A tiny door. Just big enough for you to fit through. You try to pry it open but it’s locked. You rummage through the key drawer that Friend had showed You previously and one caught your eye. A black key with the shape of a button.

And with one flick of your wrist, the door is opened.

You debate whether you should go in alone in the middle of the night, but you’re too curious (and drunk) to ignore this great discovery.

“I hope I don’t find a rat’s nest at the end of this…”

You crawl through the surprisingly clean tunnel, lighting the way with your phone flashlight.

You reach the end and open the door to the other side to find…

The exact same room.

“What the hell? How did I end up in the same place?” You say out loud.

Suddenly, you noticed sounds coming from downstairs. You reach for the bunny plushie and the scissors and take them with you as you slowly stalk down the stairs.

You hear the muffled sounds of people talking and sound effects in the background and you figure the TV must be on. But you distinctly remember turning it off after the movie had ended…

You clutch the scissors tighter.

You walk into the living room, the lights and TV turned on, playing an old western movie. But you barely pay any attention to it as your gaze zeroes on the figure sitting on the couch, eating popcorn. You take a step forward, but to your luck, the wooden floor panel creaks oh so loudly.

The figure stiffens, most likely aware of your presence and you gulp, raising the scissors to attack the intruder. The figure cautiously turns around and every inch of hair on your body stands up.

Once he faces you, you freeze in shock. Is that..?

“Hey sweetheart~ I was just watching this while I waited for you. Ready for movie night~?” Friend smiles sweetly at you.

However, this Friend is dressed very differently from the one you’ve known your whole life. Also, he is blonde? And it looks good on him?? You curse his ability to look good in anything. But the thing that actually made you stop in your tracks and made your skin crawl were his eyes. Gone were the eyes full of life and wonder that often sucked you in when you gazed into them. In their place stood black buttons just like the ones on the plushie you’re clutching. They were piercing and unsettling to stare at. If it weren’t for the fact that the figure was moving and breathing right now, you’d most likely think he was a model made after your best friend. With some changes of course.

Your silence made this “Friend” tilt his head to the side and look at you with concern, or you figured it was. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I have no idea what I’m looking at right now…” You murmur, gaze unwavering from this doppelgänger.

“Friend” chuckles in amusement and grins at you. “I’m Friend, silly! You know, your best friend since forever?”

You raise an eyebrow, keeping the scissors clutched tightly in your hand. “I don’t know exactly what you’re playing at, but you are not Friend. Friend is not blonde, he doesn’t own clothes like yours and he definitely doesn’t have buttons for eyes.”

This so-called “Friend” grins wider, unsettling so, but quickly disappears into a charming expression. “What, can’t a person try out a new look without their best friend threatening them with a pair of scissors?” He teases.

You give him a deadpan stare.

He coughs. “What I mean to say is…” He stands up and walks around the couch, approaching you casually. You can only stare in slight fear into his soulless eyes as each step brings him closer to you. He stands in front of you and gives you a reassuring smile. “I’m your Other Friend!”

“My Other Friend? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like! I’m your friend from another world. A world filled with wonder where everyone has buttons for eyes!” He says with bright smile and a glint in his button eyes. His voice sounding like a cheery animated character.

You blink. “Oh man, I must’ve drunk more than I thought…”

He laughs in amusement. “Maybe so… but why not try to enjoy this while you can? I’ve got popcorn and your favorite snacks. Aaaand we can watch any movie you want~” He sweetens the deal.

You raise your eyebrow, intrigued. “Is the popcorn extra butter?”

His grin widens. “Of course! What kind of best friend would I be if it wasn’t?”

You narrow your eyes and give him a firm nod. Before he could even attempt to come closer you point a finger at him, your expression full of suspicion. “I’m staying because I’m not fully convinced this isn’t a dream—“ You let out a loud hiccup. “…And I’m too drunk to walk back up the stairs.”

Other Friend giggles. “I understand.”

“I’m keeping the scissors, so don’t try anything funny!” You exclaim, sluggishly making your way towards the couch, slumping down on it.

“Wouldn’t dream of it~” He chuckles before sitting on the couch next to you.

While watching the movie in your drunken haze, you fail to notice your Other Friend’s grin grow possessive as you clutch the plushie he had made just for your arrival~

Chapter 2

#yandere #fanfic #stnaf #yandere writing #yandere x reader #friend x reader #stnaf friend #stnafgame #yandere smut #carter x reader #coraline #coraline au

[heartfullofleeches]

hi! I said I’d think of an ask for Silas or the soldier guy, and the best I could think of was how would they act around a pet, like a cat or something, that always challenges them for readers attention, (I think you’ve done this with some of your other ocs before) like the soldier fella comes back after being away from home just for his spot in bed to be taken by the cat or something, much to readers delight.

I just thought of another idea that I’ll send in another time while writing this lol, dont want to spam asks😅, hope your days going well and take your jolly time with this :)

Solider Guy

Your husband pockets his tool bag as he heads to the bedroom. You always forget to send him a copy of the keys when you move. He eases the door open to find his lovely spouse curled up on their side of the bed, accompanied by a new friend.

A scraggly little black cat missing part of its ear lays snuggled up beside you on what appears to be a nest made out of his clothes. Your husband walks over and kneels beside the bed, inspecting the cat's collar.

The front of the collar reads "Wuss". Turning it over, he reads aloud. "If lost, please contact Y/n Garcia."

He grins. "Guess that makes me your Dad, huh? I can already tell you'll be a handful, but I'd rather have my sweetheart seek comfort from family than someone else."

Silas

Silas glares savagely at the little cat in your lap. It's been two hours. When is he gonna get his turn? That little shit is taking his place and trying to mark claim on his territory. At least he had the upper hand with the various bite marks he left on you.

The cat paws at your hand as you reach for the remote, nicking you with their claws.

"Ouch! Be careful, kitty." A raised line appears on your skin. That does it.

Silas pulls you into a headlock without actually choking you, dragging you into the back of the couch as his tongue smacks against your cheek. He had been crouching behind it this whole time, waiting for you to pay attention to him. The sudden jerk makes your cat jump off your lap and run off. He continues to nip and lap at your face as you reach out for them.

"That's right, bitch. They're mine."

You dodge his next bite. "Silas!- what the fuck, dude?"

"Relax, Doll. I'm just staking my mark on you so that cat knows it's place in this house."

"He's my pet, your my boyfriend!

"Ex-fucking-actly."

#Yes that's a coraline reference #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere imagines #yandere soldier #Silas my oc

[yanderecandystore]

Angst ᐛ. So imagine y/n is fully aware of what the beldam is about. I'm talking from the very begining but kept coming back since they felt so alone. And at some point y/n just walks in, plots their head in the beldam's chest, tearing up after a particularly bad day and is just like. "You know, I know what youre gonna ask... About the buttons. I know its just a way to eat me. But to be honest just hearing yoinsay 'i care about you' is making me consider the offer. Pathetic right?" Would the beldam make it a quick kill or would he not want to eat them anymore? Of course if you dont feel comfortable writing this thats fine too.

The reason why I always take too long to write anything about Male Beldam/Belsire, is because I always fear making something that people won't like especially since it's my most liked story-

But after rereading the story I realized it really isn't all that good X'D I feel like it could have been a lot better if I had put more time into it.

I'm sorry for taking so long to write this, but I really don't want to leave you guys hanging especially since I do really like the idea of a "twisted" ending sort of thing. Thank you for requesting this!

It's very short, but I hope I can talk more about it because I do wonder how Y/n will deal with this new life.

TW/Tags: Mentions of: Gore; death // Arachnophobia Warning // Scotomaphobia Warning (Reader is now blind) // Manipulation // Human flesh consumption (not from the Reader) // this is very short sorry // not proofread lmao (headaches) // Reader is very unresponsive to the things that happen around them.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

A peek at the keyhole [Yandere!Belsire x GN!Reader - A short Oneshot]

It was during dinner that you decided to seal the deal, he was acting strange… He was starving and you were sure of it. Which was funny because you never saw him eat, now that you think about it.

He doesn't understand where you got that knowledge of how he behaves or of what he consumes- Maybe it was just a lucky guess based on his desperate need to keep you "unaware", always giving a poorly disguised lie about himself.

Who was he? What was he? What did he want? He was your best friend, silly. He was your other friend, and all he wanted was to be with you.

Lies, lies, half truths. He was simply too shady for his own benefit, too obvious for his own good.

Or perhaps he really liked this back and forth between you two, after all- What proof did you have of anything? You couldn't trust his words, yes, but what else did you have to go with?

Just that sinking feeling in your stomach whenever he was near you, whenever he tapped his fingers impatiently because you were just oh so curious about him!

It was adorable, really. Infuriatingly adorable.

Because it didn't matter how much you knew about him, or his "real intentions" with you- You always came back for more. His words of reassurance coated with thick honey and distributed with a soft, calm tone of voice that was just as patronizing as it was endearing.

Treating you like royalty every time you came around and yet always keeping you at arm's length when it came to learning more about him, but did any of that even matter?

You were being taken care of, wasn't that enough? You had friends with you, an adoring handsome fella that wasn't shy at all about treating you more than a friend, if you wanted him to. There was clear favoritism and although common sense would have told you it was a massive red flag, you couldn't deny it was quite refreshing to be regarded with so much love.

The fun will never end, he said. It could go for as long as you wanted, forever even if you agreed to stay with just a little, tiny condition.

He didn't have to explain it in detail for you to instantly agree with him, you cling to him already aware of what your fate would be. A bad day was all he needed for you to accept it in a heartbeat? He could have done this a lot sooner than.

It was just you and him, standing in the kitchen as you hugged him, burying yourself in both a need for contact but also out of embarrassment- Shame of throwing yourself away to the unknown without second thought.

It took him by surprise at first, although not ideal he still met his goal sooner than he expected- Only a couple of nights spent with him and his creations, with only a few fabulous events in between.

Of course he couldn't go TOO wild with his attractions, after all you didn't need a spectacular show to be lured in, you just wanted to be heard and included.

" … Oh dear… Pathetic? Why? There's no reason to feel this way, you made the right choice… "

He wanted to still reassure you of your actions, but it was hard hiding the eagerness in his voice.

He held you tightly, cooing you gently despite your unisseanes and uncertainty.

It was mostly so you wouldn't see the illusion breaking, so you wouldn't hear the sounds of your other friends turning into dust… He simply couldn't keep them for much longer, and now he didn't need to.

It's a shame they couldn't warn you of your mistake sooner, it's a shame that everything he creates reflects his adoration to the people he lures in. If only they could warn you to not let him do this, that it wasn't really worth it.

" Come… It'll be quick, don't worry. " He led you with his hands, which were feeling colder by the minute, sharper than before. Thinner than before.

The lights of the house were starting to lower if not fully turn off behind you as you only focused on following him to his little workshop. You felt the stairs lose their solidity after lifting your feet, each step turning from wood to web quickly.

You were actively following him to your doom, you knew that, and as much as you wanted to you couldn't run away now.

He opened the door to the attic, the only thing that seemed intact in this empty and dark place- It was as if the house was starting to disappear the higher he went, and as you followed him there was no need to keep the rest of the house.

He was trying to be economical here, too many things to keep magically attached and realistic all the time- With no break for lunch.

The attic was the only thing that seemed actually real for you, stepping inside you felt the old floor creek. It was old, moldy, but somehow always well kept, as it was one of the only real things in this void he took care of.

It was his favorite place in the house.

" You can go sit on that chair over there, but if you would like to choose I have a great variety of colors and types for you to pick. " The voice that held warmth and youth to it was also disappearing and being replaced with a dry throat, a rougher tone and a lack of discernible emotion behind it.

You could only tell there was impatience by the constant tapping of his fingernails on his board as he showed you all the possible options.

Classic black like his? Baby blue? Chartreuse?? His constant tapping made you feel like a ticking clock taunting you to pick a color already-

You just pointed to the one color you liked most, hey, who wouldn't want to have their favorite color as their eye color? Although, it wasn't really eyes. Just buttons.

He hummed while giving you a soft smile.

" I'm glad you made a choice for me, I would have been too indecisive. Ah, but they're perfect for you..! You're going to make me so jealous, doll.." It was a joke, or maybe a compliment. It was hard to tell if his monotonous voice was out due to boredom, anger or was his voice like this in general.

Well, he didn't seem mad?? It was hard to understand him and to be honest you were getting very nervous. You sat down in the tall chair, its pastel colors did little to nothing to calm you down. Was this really a good idea?

" Are you ready?... It'll be quick I promise… Although… "

He grabbed your face, trying to be gentle as he inspected your panicking eyes.

You didn't understand what was going inside his head, you couldn't tell what he was planning to do and you weren't sure if his touch was starting to freak you out or sooth you.

" … It'll be fine. I'll make sure of it." He sighed before kissing your forehead, so you wouldn't forget he cared about you.

It was agonizing.

You don't know for how long you stayed out, but you remember your brain blacking out after he sewed the first one in.

You're not sure how you even survived through him stabbing your eyes with a needle- Hell, were you even alive at all?! You couldn't see anything, so either he successfully closed your eyes or you were dead.

No, you probably weren't dead yet, your headache just as bad as your entire face- Raising your hand slowly to touch your face you could feel your eyes covered by thick cloth, it was slightly wet.

Slightly touching and pushing like that caused you to feel immense pain, you immediately stopped- It was still fresh so of course it would hurt like hell.

You were sure that you felt the shape of the buttons underneath the cloth, however.

Your ears buzzed as you tried to regain some of your strength, as you tried to get out from your torture chair you forgot how tall it was- Missing a step and crashing down to the old attic floor with no one to help you.

Falling sure felt like falling! The floor sure felt like a crusty old floor! Yep, you weren't dead.

Your head was aching so badly you weren't sure if what you heard was real or not, but you were sure you heard some commotion coming from downstairs.

It was loud enough to muffle your little accident.

The voices below were followed by painful screaming that lasted for a few minutes after complete silence. A chilling sensation settled in as you started to wonder if the screams you heard felt familiar to you in any way.

You carefully started to get up, slowly you started to consider if you should go back to the tall chair or just make a run for it- But to where? You couldn't see anything!!

You considered taking the cloth off- But you didn't want to feel the pain that came from it. You needed to let it heal after all. Though, you doubted that you would be able to see anything with freaking BUTTONS in your eyes!!

Was it too late to regret your decision? It seemed like it.

You walked around trying to feel your way, where was the door again? You were sure you were on the right track… Your hand went from old wood to a nice clean carpet- Wait- Wasn't the house entirely destroyed? Shouldn't it be a spider web here?

Or, well, everywhere?

The fur of the carpet fooled you as you felt your hand squeeze something very soft that squeaked and scurried away from you. A rat.

" I'm sorry!- " You whispered to him, but he didn't appreciate your attempt at escaping, he squealed as he ran down stairs alerting his owner that you were awake.

Well, shit.

You would have screamed if you were able to see the heavy thing that came up the stairs in such a hurry, it didn't help that although you couldn't see him, the sound of metal hitting the walls and the floor made you highly concerned.

What the fuck was that-

" You shouldn't have left the room without telling me. " The same monotonous voice, although he didn't sound so exhausted like he did before- Not as hungry, you assumed.

" Come, let me help you. " You could hear him approach, as if he was wearing high heels it was hard to not hear him coming closer.

And you couldn't help but feel like distancing yourself further, his boney fingers didn't help you feel any more relaxed- They were sharp and cold, it felt like pure needles taking your hand and pulling you up.

" You need to rest for a little longer, doll. But you can't heal with an empty stomach right? " He guided you with his hand, you felt sick at the mention of food.

He helped you get down the stairs by holding you bride style, and you almost cried at the sensation of his hard and cold skin, you trembled at how those same needles would gently squeeze your skin-

One wrong move and they would tear your skin apart.

He helped you sit in a chair, you assumed you were at the kitchen's table by now.

Was this your end…? Was he really going to do this now??

…. No. He was just cooking something, presumably for you. It smelled of omelets and orange juice, it was simple but it was a very nice scent.

This kitchen reeked of blood, however. Instinctively you took your hands to cover your nose, and probably your mouth as well since you weren't sure if shouting would be a good idea right now. He hates loud noises.

" Don't worry about it, it was just a pesky guest who didn't take no for an answer! I'm sorry for the mess. I'll clean it up after you eat. " A more upbeat and sweet voice, the same one you were more accustomed with. Reassurance and comfort all tied with a smile you were more familiar with.

Approaching you with a plate in hand, and a juice glass in the other.

" Don't worry, I didn't put any of the nasty stuff for you. Just eggs and lots of love. The spoiled food is for me. " He kissed you on the cheek, it felt like being touched by porcelain.

He handed you the fork, but you weren't sure if you wanted to find out if he kept his word or not.

He killed someone here, didn't he? Those noises you heard when you were up in the attic plus the smell of iron coating every inch of this kitchen sure weren't just coincidence. He… He wouldn't force you to eat someone, would he?

Who was it?... Who was it..?!

Was he referring to the person as "spoiled food"?

" Doll. I told you to not worry. There's no meat on your plate, I'm a bit selfish when it comes to sharing food. I'm sorry but there's nothing left of them for you, if I knew you wanted to try I wouldn't have been so careless- "

" N-No, it's… It's fine! I'm just… I can't really see anything…" You tried to not sound as terrified of him as you were, heaven knows you shouldn't feed any monster your own fear, it's what they live on.

" …. Aw… You're blind, I'm so sorry! I forgot about that. " He started to laugh as he slapped his forehead about forgetting something so crucial, silly him!

You weren't sure if he was being honest about forgetting that, but you sure as hell knew by the way he snatched the fork from your hand and how he seemed to drag his chair closer to you that he was probably very excited to do this.

" Say, ah~! " You knew he was having fun when he pinched your cheek to make you open your mouth.

Well, yep, those were just eggs. I mean it was a very tasty omelet but that was it, the orange juice didn't taste any different. Probably a little too sweet, but that's it.

It was probably due to the pain you were feeling in the front of your entire face that made you very much NOT interested in eating, or maybe it was the dripping sound and the smell of blood. The thought that somehow you were sitting possibly next to a murder scene, and/or a body, and the murderer was feeding you, made you very unease.

" Try to not think too much about it, it's just the way things will be for now… Isn't it so much better this way too? We will be able to spend so much time together and I just need you to stay in the attic whenever we have "guests" over. Do you understand me? "

" With just a little bit of magic I'm about to make the house more comfortable for you, to cook you meals endlessly and I can even make you a few more outfits. I'll be sure to make the house more appropriate for a human like you. "

He petted your head after you finished the plate, kissing your forehead and letting the dishes in the sink.

" Now, let me help you get up, we'll need to give you a bath and put you in more comfortable clothes, and then we can lay down. I'm sure you're still very tired after our little surgery. "

He helped you get up and walked you towards the bathroom… You couldn't help but feel worried about what you were doing.

Wasn't this all you ever wanted? To be adored by someone who treats you so well? Didn't you feel glad you accepted his offer?

Were you a bad person for wanting this?

Well, you didn't want THIS as in- Him eating people- All you wanted was to be with him for longer…

Why did you feel really scared whenever he touched with the same gentleness but none of the softness his skin used to have? You knew running wouldn't be a good idea since you couldn't see anything, and you didn't know the layout of the house well enough to memorize where the little door was...

Right?

" You're so stiff, my love! Are you scared of walking around your own house? I promise I kept everything intact, it's my house as well you know… And besides I'll always be here to guide you while you still recover. " You felt him nuzzle his hand against your neck, cold, hard. You wondered how much he changed now that he didn't need to pretend to look a certain way for you.

Maybe it was best to not know.

" … You're so silent right now, it almost feels like I have been running my mouth for hours! I didn't know you were such a silent type. " He teased, while kissing the back of your neck gently.

It was probably your lack of spatial awareness, but he somehow seemed a lot taller- As if it took some effort to lower himself down just to kiss you.

" My head… it hurts so much.."

" Aw, I know, love, I know. It'll take a while for you to feel better but it'll be so worth it… I'll help you learn new things, like how to feel the vibrations in my web, it'll help you "see" better. Or how to read braille, or how to walk around the house carefully, or how to tell someone is planning on running away during a conversation. "

He poked the sides of your stomach, an action that was supposed to be just couple's teasing but was actually quite terrifying and painful considering how sharp his fingers were.

" You couldn't be any less obvious love. I'm sorry if I scared you, I couldn't resist. " And yet he didn't sound irritated or annoyed, it could be that he was just pretending to not care… But he sounded more amused than anything.

" I'm just teasing you, doll! Come on, don't look like that, I'm just in a good mood! You know I can't stay annoyed at you. Let's hurry up and get you cleaned, alright? "

As he carefully started to shove you inside the bathroom you wondered if he didn't mess with something in your head alongside your eyes.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere coraline au #yandere beldam #yandere male beldam #gn!reader #special delivery request #special delivery oneshot

[sinning-on-a-sunday]

otherworldly ~ coraline!au (pt.3)

PAIRING ~ jimin x reader

GENRE ~ horror/thriller

WORD COUNT ~ 20K

SUMMARY ~ when you discover a tiny door in your home that leads to a much better version of your own life, it seems too good to be true. little do you know, the man posing as your boyfriend may be a lot more dangerous than you care to admit. and he is not intent on letting you leave.

WARNINGS ~ profanity, ANGST, relationship struggles, kidnapping, general creepiness, guilt tripping, spiders, violence, mentions of starvation, minor body mutilation, insects, restraints, blood, rats, non-graphic body horror, slight gore, needles/impalement, referenced medical horror, slight injury, jimin is a creep, dub-con kiss.

A/N ~ thank you for your patience!! I hope you like it :)

PART 1 PART 2

The floorboards aren’t enough to ground you. Not when your heart is about to pound out of your rib cage, shaking hands scrabbling for purchase on something solid, something real.

How does one ground themselves after crawling out of hell?

Sucking in quick gulps of air, you struggle to give your lungs a little relief from the dry burn. You manage to calm your breathing after a few painful minutes, but it doesn’t ease the tight, clenched fist in your chest.

You look back at the little door. It stands silent, unmoving. The wood doesn’t rattle, the knob doesn’t jiggle. You grab the key with shaking fingers and shuffle to the other side of the room.

Calm down, you remind yourself when your pulse spikes again. It’s okay. You’re safe, you’re safe. He can’t follow you out here. He can’t leave.

A chill crawls up your spine. None of them can.

The realization is heart-wrenching, enough to make tears pool in your eyes, stomach bobbing into your throat.

You left them there. You abandoned them, left them to fend for themselves against that...that thing.

Guilt obstructs reason. It doesn’t matter that you know they couldn’t follow you, that they couldn’t leave even if they wanted to. All you can think of is the fact that they’re still trapped while you walk free.

You picture Taehyung curled up on that dirty mattress, tear-stained, clutching his stuffed Pomeranian until his fingers go numb. Numb enough to pretend it’s real. Would he ever get out of that room? Who’s to say he isn’t suffering a punishment far worse than a simple time out.

What will happen to Jungkook without you there to cushion the blow? Now that you’ve seen the extent of Other Jimin’s hot temper, there’s no telling what he wouldn’t do in a fit of rage. And now, without you there, he’s got nothing to lose.

The digital clock on the mantel distracts you before you can spiral into a full-blown anxiety attack.

6:37 P.M.

Your brows furrow. That can’t be right. You remember leaving the real world a little after 3 o’clock, surely it’s been more than just a few hours?

That’s not why it feels wrong, though. These late afternoon hours are Jimin’s most productive. Most nights he works straight through dinner, hunched over his desk until his eyelids are sagging and his brain is too sluggish to pump out a single sentence.

It’s about time for his ritual evening cup of coffee, shouldn’t the brewer be churning? The air should be alive with the sound of clicking keys, the shuffle of fabric as Jimin bounces his knee, the drumming of his fingernails on the tabletop.

But the house is quiet. You can’t even hear the creak of a chair.

At first, all you can manage is a whisper. A soft Jimin against the horrible silence that sounds more like a puff of air than a name.

You scramble to your feet. None of the lights are on, like no one’s home and hasn’t been since before the sun set.

The kitchen is empty. You spot the car keys on the counter, Jimin’s scarf discarded beside them. Now you’re calling for him, your voice an unpleasant echo over the sound of rapid footsteps.

Rumpled sheets greet you in the spare bedroom, glaring evidence of your fight and the fact that he spent last night alone. Another flood of anxiety ripples through your body.

You’re practically screaming his name by the time you kick open the bathroom door. Still nothing.

You fly down the hallway, barely sparing a glance into his office in your haste to get to the master bedroom, but a flash of light makes you skid to a stop.

It’s the soft glow of a computer screen, half obscured by an uncomfortably bent, sweater-clad back.

Your breathing is still strained when you step into the room.

Jimin is slumped over the table, head cradled in one folded arm, with his cheek squished and his lips pressed into a sleepy pout. His eyelids flutter ever so slightly behind his crooked glasses like he’s in the middle of a dream.

Instant relief. You release the sigh lodged in your throat and let some of the tension in your shoulders melt away.

He’s here. He’s safe and warm and real.

You reach forward to touch him, to feel his solid body under your fingertips. He doesn’t stir until you give him a gentle shake.

“Jimin,” you whisper, and the name feels so right coming out of your mouth now that it’s directed at the right person.

His eyes crack open, back muscles rippling under your hand as he moves to sit up.

“Hm?” A confused groan falls from his swollen lips.

“You fell asleep at your desk again,” you explain, massaging between his shoulder blades.

Jimin rubs his still bloodshot eyes with one hand while the other runs through his hair.

“I did? Ah, sorry. I know you hate it when I do that.”

He looks up at you sheepishly from under his lashes, and you can’t help the smile that breaks out across your face.

Those full, flushed cheeks, that golden skin, those warm brown eyes. Full of color, full of life.

This is Jimin. Your Jimin.

“Come on, workaholic. Let’s go to bed,” you say, slipping one arm around his waist as you lead him towards the hall.

A shy blush burns at the tips of his ears, but he still returns the smile and wraps his own arm around you, keeping you pressed against his side.

The two of you waddle over to the stairs, refusing to let each other go enough to walk properly.

No spare room for him tonight. You don’t think you’ll be able to get a wink of sleep unless Jimin is right by your side.

It’s barely seven o’clock, but Jimin’s movements are lethargic, like he’s drunk and can’t find his footing. You barely have time to slip his glasses off his nose before he face-plants on the bed.

“You’re more tired than usual. Burning the candle at both ends again, hm?”

Your affectionate scolding only causes him to smile more, enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle. Slipping under the covers, you lay facing him on your side, and to your surprise, he scoots closer until your faces are only inches apart.

“I didn’t get any sleep last night,” Jimin replies, his gaze flickering over your features now that he’s close enough to get an intimate look.

“Oh?” you reply with a yawn. You’re ready to knock out too, the trauma of today’s events taking their toll.

“I can’t sleep without you there,” he says, and your drooping eyelids snap back open.

That’s certainly not what you were expecting. A small smile creeps onto your face at his confession, pleased that he still wants you, still needs you.

No wonder he’s so tired. If he can’t seem to sleep without you, then last night in the guest room must’ve been torture.

Jimin’s eyes linger on the way your lashes flutter, fighting to stay open.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out suddenly.

You look up to find him guiltily averting his gaze.

“I’ve been a real asshole lately. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I let the stress of work get to me and took it out on you. I’m sorry. Work is just so...ugh, and I know I shouldn’t have made you deal with my bullshit but I just...I just thought you’d always be there. And then I got jealous because it dawned on me that maybe you’d had enough of my shit, but I swear I wasn’t trying to push you away I just—”

You stop his rambling with a finger against his lips. His breath catches in his throat, and you’re unsure if it’s because he’s anticipating what you’re about to say or because you haven’t touched him like this in a while.

“I appreciate your apology.”

It’s very carefully worded, and Jimin doesn’t miss that.

“So...are we good?” His voice betrays just how nervous he is, shaky and hitching with each inhale.

There’s a pause before you answer.

“I...don’t know yet. I don’t think you realize how much you hurt me, Jimin.”

You think you see his lip quiver ever so slightly, but it’s trapped between his teeth before you can be sure.

“I understand. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I really fucked everything up this time—”

“Jimin,” you interrupt him sternly.

He clamps his mouth shut and curls in on himself like a frightened turtle.

“No more talk like that. No more self-destruction.”

You reach up to card a hand through his bleach-fried hair, and he noticeably relaxes.

You don’t know it, but he’s missed being this close to you. Sleeping curled up against your body, snuggled into your warmth. It seems like a luxury he doesn’t deserve. It’s something he’s been denying himself every night for the past few months. He hasn’t been making as much progress with work as he’d like, so he’s been holding himself back from cuddling with you until he feels he’s worthy of affectionate touch.

He knows he still doesn’t deserve it, but it feels too good to pull away.

“Forgiveness can always be earned, and I’m still willing to give it, if you’re willing to change.”

“Yes,” Jimin blurts out with startling enthusiasm. “Yes, yes, I want to. I want to be better for you.”

The corner of your mouth tugs up. There’s that affinity for praise you know and love.

“Things are going to be different from now on,” you say, calm enough to soothe his nerves, quiet enough to let him know you’re serious.

“I think we both need to work on our communication.”

Jimin ducks his head again, another shameful blush flaring on the apples of his cheeks.

“I know, I understand. I’m...”

Something gets caught in his throat. He gulps down the lump, licks his lips nervously.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. Really,” he finally chokes out.

“I know, baby. I know. We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?”

You both know this conversation isn’t over. There’s still a lot more to discuss, inner thoughts laid out, compromises to be made, but it’s for another time. Right now all you want to do is fall asleep next to your real partner and revel in the fact that things will get better.

Right now, it’s so easy to believe that things will get better.

“Can I have a goodnight kiss?” you ask playfully, and he knows it’s not really a question, but rather you giving him permission, judging by the way he’s been eyeing your lips for the past five minutes.

Jimin’s whole face twists into a near-blinding smile, before he jumps at the chance and smashes his mouth against yours. His grip around your body tightens, like he can keep you from disappearing if he holds you tight enough. Fingers curling at the edge of your jaw, he doesn’t break away until his lungs are burning, letting out a soft, barely-audible whine at the fact that he needs to pull away to get a proper breath.

A dozen frantic pecks follow. They don’t stop until your whole face has been stamped with his lips and you’re giggling uncontrollably.

“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh into his chest.

Jimin slides his fingers up your spine, sweeping deftly over the spot where your hair meets the nape of your neck until he gets the response he’s looking for. He always used to tease you about your catlike reaction, how it’s so easy for him to draw the shivers out of your body with a single touch.

“You’re gonna whip me into shape, that’s what you’re gonna do,” he replies, now petting the back of your head with slow, gentle strokes. 

You let out a content hum as exhaustion sinks its claws deeper into your body. It’s really starting to set in, the realization that you’re safe, you’re okay, nothing bad can happen anymore.

How stupid you were to believe that.

Jimin whispers one last “I love you,” but you’ve already slipped away.

Sleep doesn’t bring comfort, not when you’re tormented by dreams of spiderwebs and ink black eyes, of cold, cramped rooms behind mirrors and needles piercing through flesh. That night, little dark shapes skitter behind your eyelids. Someone’s—something’s—low voice breathes in your ear, meaningless words that sound more like growls than decipherable speech. 

You only sleep for a few hours. A particularly bad nightmare jolts you awake, but Jimin, being the heavy sleeper that he is, lays undisturbed. Sitting up in bed, panting and sweat-slick, you grip the sheets in tight fists.

Something unpleasant prickles under your skin, and it takes you a few seconds to realize it’s the itch that comes with being watched. It takes you even longer to realize that there’s just something not right about the room you’re in.

The window is bolted, good. The closet door is closed, good. Jimin is still sleeping peacefully by your side, excellent. What is it that’s just not—?

A twitch of movement out of the corner of your eye. It’s barely anything, but it’s enough to catch your attention.

Your heart is in your throat by the time you gather enough courage to turn your head.

Sitting in the chair next to the bed, the chair you’re positive was empty when you went to sleep, is that infernal doll.

The button eyes are too shiny, so shiny they look almost wet. Wide, unblinking, and definitely watching you.

The urge to scream is very tempting, but you can’t risk waking Jimin. Pretending to be calm and collected is even harder, especially with that thing’s glassy-eyed stare trained on your every move.

A horrible, bitter taste burns the back of your throat. With the way your stomach ripples and your breathing shakes in your own ears, you feel like you could puke all over the sheets at any second.

But you hold your own, leisurely swinging your legs over the mattress, softly placing your feet on the floor, standing up slowly like the doll isn’t even there.

Because you can’t let it see your fear. You can’t let him know you’re scared.

Jimin is so blissfully unaware, lying there curled up on his side with his cheek cradled in his hands.

A smile tugs itself onto your lips at the sight of him, and you take a moment to bend down, brush his bangs back, and plant a kiss on his forehead. He hums softly, snuggling deeper into the blankets.

The doll just sits there silently.

You’ve made up your mind. You’re not about to tolerate spies in your house.

Stomping over to the occupied chair, you grab the doll by the neck and race down the stairs two at a time. You shove your feet into your rain boots and shrug on your coat, slamming the front door on your way out.

The ground is soggy from the recent rain and the cold bites, but the fresh air does wonders for your nausea. It’s an ungodly hour of the morning, so the sky is still pitch dark and the air is eerily quiet. You’re thankful for the full moon and the light it sheds on the winding dirt path.

The only sound in your ears is the slosh of mud under your boots and the crunch of gravel. It grounds you, eventually syncing with the rhythm of your breathing, your heartbeat dwindling down to a dull thrum.

It’s a longer walk than you thought. By the time you reach the crest of the hill, your toes are numb from the cold and your nose feels like it could snap off. Your grip on the doll, however, has only tightened with each step.

The clearing is just as bare as you remember it. Stripped tree branches, brown grass, and at the center of it all, a ring of toadstools.

You don’t waste any time, dropping to your knees despite the mud and clawing at the dirt until your fingers hit solid wood. Dragging the heavy cover aside, you peer down the wide, black opening of the well until you feel as if the darkness is about to reach out and grab you. You can’t see the bottom, just the moss climbing up the stone walls.

With one last shaky inhale, you let the doll slip through your fingers and tumble down the dark tunnel. The sound of it meeting the water never comes.

When you return, the clock reads 3:28 AM in bright, electric green. You tell yourself that’s why it feels so strange, because of the odd hour. You’re supposed to be asleep, that’s why the house feels so achingly empty.

When you drag your tired limbs up the stairs, down the hall, through the doorway, and find an empty bed, you think nothing of it.

Jimin’s probably in the bathroom or getting a glass of water, maybe working in his office after a bout of late night inspiration.

You slip back under the covers, draw your knees up to your chest, and close your eyes.

Ten minutes pass. Fifteen. He’s probably just piddling around the house.

Twenty. Thirty. He probably just can’t sleep. He’s probably downstairs watching TV. With every passing second, your fidgeting grows a little more restless.

Everything is fine, you tell yourself over and over. And you want to believe it so bad, but it’s been over half an hour and Jimin still hasn’t come back yet. Heat prickles under your skin, sweat collects at the back of your neck. Reaching over, you find that Jimin’s side of the bed has gone cold.

For the umpteenth time that night, you know that something is wrong.

Calling out his name only makes the silence ring louder, echoing mockingly against the thin walls. It’s broken only by the sound of the blankets being ripped off your body and the pound of your feet on the floorboards.

The master bathroom is empty, so is the spare bedroom and the storage closet. Downstairs, you find nothing but darkness and disappointment. The kitchen is barren, the dining room is deserted, the office is vacant.

You’re not prepared for what you find in the living room. It’s uninhabited like everywhere else, though definitely not the same as you left it.

Scuff marks on the wood near the little door’s threshold, faint but definitely there. Jimin’s glasses lay open and discarded on the floor.

Then there’s the little door itself, open a crack with the key sticking out of the lock. There’s no light seeping through the opening, no glowing blue tunnel beckoning you forward. Just a sliver of darkness so thick it looks like a tear in the fabric of reality. If light can shine, then this darkness bleeds.

You can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t even shiver in fear with how tight your muscles are. All you can do is stand there in your cement-filled shoes, plunging, sinking deeper into the icy waters of dread and helplessness.

There’s no doubt in your mind that something is watching just behind the crack in the door.

The thought of approaching it leaves an ugly squirming feeling in the pit of your stomach, but the thought of it sitting there open and unlocked is much, much worse.

So, with trembling hands, you snatch the metal poker from beside the fireplace, and take the first hesitant step forward. You grip the handle tight as the space between you and the little door grows smaller and smaller.

You’re fully expecting something to reach out and grab you when you lunge forward and kick the wood hard, weapon poised and ready to strike, but the door closes without a struggle. Using your knee as a barricade, you twist the key until the lock clicks into place with a satisfying thunk.

Panting and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you fall back on your elbows with a jerk, scrambling along the floor until your shoulder hits the opposite wall.

Then come the tears. Bitter, frustrated tears.

How naive you were to think that the nightmare was over. How stupid you were to let Jimin get involved in this mess. The mess you caused by indulging in your own fantasies.

You couldn’t save Jungkook, you couldn’t save Taehyung, you couldn’t even save your true boyfriend.

Vision blurred and watery, you crawl over to Jimin’s fallen glasses and clutch them to your chest.

There’s a noise from the window, a soft pitter pattering of small feet. The last fat drops of moisture roll down your cheeks as you look up.

Two shiny yellow eyes stare back at you. They’re surrounded by a dark shape, fluffy around the edges, elegantly silhouetted against the few wisps of moonlight.

It’s the cat, you realize when it paws at the glass and exposes four pink toe beans. The feline waits impatiently as you push yourself off the floor and slide open the window.

“Hello,” you say, unsure if he will reply this time.

The cat hops off the window sill, collar jingling with every graceful movement. He bows his head in your direction, a silent greeting.

“What brings you here?” Your voice noticeably wavers, you can feel yourself choking on a sob.

The cat looks at the little door, at Jimin’s glasses gripped in your hands, then back up at you.

“Do you know what happened to him?”

He blinks and tips his head down. You take that as a yes.

Before you can ask anything else, he turns and saunters out of the room. You follow his swishing black tail, the metal poker still in your left hand, trying and failing to swallow down the lump in your throat.

He leads you to the end of the hall, stopping just in front of the full-length mirror, and sits down with a twitch of his ears.

Obviously, you’re a little confused. Your focus flickers between the cat and where his intense gaze is pointed. He just stares straight ahead, stoic as ever.

Then the glass starts to fog up, though it looks like it’s coming from the opposite side. A cloudy film seeps frost-like over the surface until your reflection is completely shrouded.

A shape, a white shadow, emerges from the milky blankness, moving closer until it’s pressed right up against the glass.

It’s a hand, you realize. It’s someone’s hand.

The hand becomes an arm, the arm becomes a torso, the torso becomes a person. A person with bleach blonde hair and tear-stained cheeks.

“Jimin?”

The image clears to reveal his trembling form, dressed only in pajamas. His eyes are red and glistening, beautiful plump lips bitten to shreds. There’s spider silk tangled in his hair.

“Jimin! Oh my fucking god, Jimin!”

He looks absolutely frantic, expression blown wide with panic as his eyes dart all over your face like it’s the last time he’ll ever see it. Both of his hands are flat against the mirror, sliding, pushing, pounding in their desperate attempt to get to you.

But it’s no use. Even as you line your own palms up against his and press as hard as you can, the cruel barrier won’t budge.

“Jimin! Please, what can I do? What do I do, Jimin!”

He shakes his head vigorously. His mouth is moving, but you can’t hear anything, just the sound of your heaving sobs.

Fresh tears fall over the already existing tracks on Jimin’s cheeks. Behind him, you can see mismatched furniture and blue wallpaper. 

“Please, please, please...” You’re not sure what you’re begging for, but at this point, it doesn’t matter. He can’t answer you anyway.

Jimin leans forward to breathe on the glass, fogging it up even more, and uses the tip of his finger to write two gut-wrenching words:

ƎM ƎVAƎ⅃

You look up at him in horror. He wants you to leave him there, leave him with that fucking monster who will do God knows what to him.

Jimin’s lip quivers as he mouths something to you, and you don’t need to hear him to know what he’s saying.

I love you.

The mirror clears almost instantly. Jimin’s face melts away, leaving you to stare at your own pitiful reflection.

You scream his name until your throat is raw, slamming your fists against the mirror, blinking through the burning tears.

Grabbing the poker again, you cock your arm back and bring it down in one powerful swoop. Crack. Crack. Crack.

You swing the heavy metal rod until the glass shatters and falls over you like razor-sharp rain. The only thing behind the mirror is a slab of cardboard.

The cat watches you silently, wide-eyed. Tiptoeing between the jagged shards, he pads over to where you’re sat hugging your knees and rubs his head against your arm. You barely notice his attempt to comfort you. Your chest is heaving too much, blood pulsating in your veins, in your skull.

He sits with you while you cry, brushing your skin with his soft tail every so often. He sits with you even when the first slivers of daylight trail across the floor.

When day breaks, you’re numb. Dehydrated, trembling, aching all over. Your body is sore from sitting on the hard floor for too long, the morning chill seeping bone-deep and leaving your skin cold to the touch.

Apparently, the cat decides that enough is enough. He bumps his head against your arm to get your attention, but your red-rimmed eyes are stuck staring at the glass shards strewn about the floor.

He nudges you with his tail, tugs at your shirtsleeve with his teeth, even gently scratches your exposed ankles.

“Knock it off!” you snap, shooing him away, but he just struts right back to your side.

He’s looking at you expectantly, and you can practically hear the question in his eyes.

Well, what are you going to do now?

Your gaze trails off, glancing back at the broken mirror, at Jimin’s glasses in the palm of your hand.

This bad dream isn’t something you can just wake up from.

It’s clear that running solves nothing. You tried it once, and it only came back to bite you. All that did was hurt the people you care about.

The people I care about, you think bitterly. Now trapped in a nightmare, all because of me.

They didn’t deserve this. Not even Jimin, no matter how bad he’s treated you.

The cat sits on his hind legs and watches the different emotions play out across your face. Regret, pain, fear, doubt, and then, something ignites in your expression like a switch being flipped. A fire behind your eyes that could only be described as pure, unfiltered determination.

No, they won’t suffer any longer. I won’t allow it.

You grip Jimin’s glasses so tight it’s a miracle they don’t snap in half.

I’m going to fix this.

The presence of sunlight makes your task a whole lot less daunting. The cat’s company is a nice bonus too, with his calm yellow eyes and silent encouragement. Not that backing out is an option. You know what you have to do.

You change into comfortable yet practical clothes, lacing up a pair of sneakers. You tie a jacket around your waist in case you, or anyone you encounter, gets cold.

Taehyung lent you his sweater, hopefully you’ll get to return the favor.

Digging Jimin’s old leather messenger bag from the back of the closet, you start to go around the house collecting supplies. A flashlight and extra batteries, lighter, pocketknife, gardening shears, a roll of duct tape, water bottle, a few apples and granola bars.

You pick the sharpest knife out of the kitchen drawer, sheath it inside the plastic cover, and stash it with the rest of your provisions.

Jimin’s glasses are stowed in the bag’s inside pocket. He’s going to need them if—when you find him.

The cat follows as you pace from room to room, hovering at your side as you finally make your way back to the little door.

There’s a thick, stifling moment of hesitation. Your heart is beating fast again, dread sinking it’s ugly teeth into your neck.

You throw a sideways glance at your companion. He looks up at you, nods towards the door, then moves his petite shoulders in what could be interpreted as a shrug.

He’s not coming back on his own, the gesture seems to say.

And he’s right, infuriatingly right. So with one last unsteady sigh, you grasp the cold black key and twist.

The door swings open by itself. A hot, musty-smelling wind brushes across your face, heavy and damp like someone’s breath.

It’s too dark to see anything, so you grab the flashlight from your bag and switch it on. Cobwebs cling to the tunnel walls, dust particles floating in the flashlight’s yellow beam. There’s an oh so enticing spec of light up ahead. Come back, it practically whispers in your ear, come back to me.

You grab the key from the lock, shove it safely inside your bag, and crawl forward. The ground is soft and startlingly warm against your fingers.

To your surprise, the cat follows you here too, albeit begrudgingly. His nose twitches in obvious discomfort, ears pressed flat.

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, not really expecting a response. But, to your surprise again, he replies in that same deep voice:

“You need all the help you can get.”

Despite the situation, you let out a chuckle.

“You’re talking again,” you notice, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“How very observant of you.”

A few quiet seconds. The tunnel seems a lot longer than it was before, more suffocating.

“You know, you’re walking right into his trap,” the cat says, sounding slightly disinterested.

“I know what I’m doing.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

The air stirs impatiently around you, sucking you in as the light at the end of the passageway shines brighter and brighter.

“I can’t just leave him there,” you say to no one in particular.

The cat seems to understand, bowing his head in what looks like pity.

“Make it a game, then,” he says. “Believe it or not, he wants your respect. Give him a chance to earn it.”

You consider it for a moment. A game, a chance to even the score.

“Hmm. That could work.”

“No need to thank me,” the cat remarks with a proud quirk of his head. “But he won’t play fair, remember that. Even if you win, he won’t let you go so easy.”

His words send a shiver down the back of your neck, the weight of the situation finally setting in.

It’s then that you finally reach the end of the tunnel.

The parallel living room looks perfectly inviting, nothing at all like the last time you saw it. Instead of pulsing green walls and insects clinging to every solid surface, warm tones and softly glowing lamps decorate the space. Everything is plush and homey, from the comfortable furniture to the roaring flames burning in the fireplace.

Light seeps in through the kitchen door, along with the heavenly scent of cooking food. A sweet, male voice is singing quietly.

You look down to find that the cat has vanished. Guess I’m on my own then. Shoving the flashlight back in your bag, you square your shoulders and walk right into the belly of the beast.

The table in the center of the room is so loaded with food there’s barely any room left. Tendrils of steam rise from a tower of stacked pancakes; the eggs are cooked just how you like them, presented next to a platter of already-buttered, perfectly golden toast. You can hear the gurgling of the coffee pot.

Your throat constricts when you spot him.

The Other Jimin stands at the stove, spatula in one hand, leaning over a pan of sizzling bacon. His back is to you, and he doesn’t acknowledge your presence until you step onto the kitchen tiles.

“Oh, good morning sweetheart,” he says as if you’ve startled him. “Breakfast's almost done. Have a seat, won’t you?”

He’s too focused on the crackling pan to face you, merely gesturing towards the two empty chairs at the table.

You don’t move a muscle. Feet rooted to the floor, you just watch as he transfers the bacon to a plate. He unties the apron from around his waist, runs a hand through his hair, and turns around.

Your stomach flips, but it’s not out of disgust.

His tan skin is dewy and smooth, a healthy blush blooming across his cheeks. Your eyes drink in his velvet-soft lips, his sharp-cut jaw and the way his silken black locks fall over his forehead. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and star-patterned cardigan, tapering down to the tightest pair of black skinny jeans you’ve ever seen. They cling sinfully to his thighs and ridiculously thin waist.

He’s gorgeous and he fucking knows it, judging by the smirk on his plump, rose-pink mouth.

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving,” he says, moving to sit at the table.

You make no effort to join him.

He stares you down with those dark bottomless eyes, letting out an amused chuckle after a few seconds of silence.

“Stubborn,” he mutters under his breath, like he’s dealing with a petulant child. He scoots his chair back, approaching with a few strides of his long legs, and pushes you gently but firmly into the seat opposite to him.

Your stomach growls. Loudly. It’s hard to remember the last time you ate something, but you’re not about to give in to his temptations so quickly.

Jimin busies himself preparing a cup of coffee. He sets it down in front of you like an offering, loading your plate with a little bit of everything from the table.

Even though he said he was starving, he makes no attempt to eat anything, just sits there watching you.

You realize with an unpleasant sinking feeling that it’s not food he’s hungry for. He’s hungry for your reaction, your praise, your validation.

With this little detail in mind, you reach into your bag and grab one of the apples, biting into it with fake enthusiasm.

The corner of his eye twitches.

“Please don’t be difficult,” Jimin says, fingertips drumming against the tabletop.

“I want Jimin back. The real one,” you say with a stronger voice than you were anticipating.

He narrows his eyes, perfectly sculpted brows furrowing.

“Come on now, babe. It won’t do you any good getting such silly ideas.” His tone is chastising. Impatient.

But you’re determined to shatter the illusion he so desperately clings to.

“I. Want. Him. Back.”

The muscles in his jaw clench impossibly tight. His already-piercing gaze darkens.

“You know, I have half a mind to teach you a lesson after the stunt you pulled,” he grits out from between his teeth. “After you abandoned me and left us all to starve.”

You dig your fingernails into the flesh of the apple, skin sticky with juice, trying to suppress the shiver that threatens to give away just how terrified you are.

He must be able to tell, because a smug expression flits across his features.

“But no matter, I forgive you, baby. Love the sinner, hate the sin, as they say. I’m tired of giving punishments anyway.”

This time, you can’t hide the way your body trembles in fear.

“What did you do to them?”

Jimin smiles, teeth bared and eyes crinkling. He’s loving this. Having you here, so scared and helpless, clinging to his every word. He could say whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted to you and there would be almost nothing you could do about it.

“They’re intact, don’t worry. I didn’t have to do much, they got their fair share of pain from just watching you leave them.”

You continue to munch on the apple, trying to distract yourself from his words and their poisonous influence.

“Kookie cried for hours. Poor kid, wouldn’t stop until I forced him.”

"What—” you start to say, choking halfway through the word. Never mind, you don’t want to know.

“And Tae was so disappointed. He was convinced that you’d stay for him, or at least try to take him with you.”

The Other Jimin sighs dramatically.

You know he’s lying, trying to manipulate you into feeling guilty for running away. You want to stay unaffected, but the mental image of Jungkook crying his eyes out, of the criss-crossing stitches over Taehyung’s chest...it gets to you a little bit.

Make it a game. The cat’s voice echoes in your head. Believe it or not, he wants your respect. Give him a chance to earn it.

This is your only shot. You have to get it just right.

“I don't love you.”

He bristles, hands clenching.

“Not if you force it,” you blurt out. “Love is meaningless if you force it. Wouldn’t you be happier if I loved you willingly?”

Despite his efforts to appear unfazed, there’s something undeniably eager dancing in the black of his eyes.

“Are you offering something?” he asks, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy.

“A game, a test of willpower. The winner gets my freedom.”

The Other Jimin raises an eyebrow.

“You’ll never try to run again?”

Your throat has gone so tight that speech seems impossible, so you simply nod your head in response.

“You’ll stay here forever?”

Nausea curls in the pit of your stomach, but you manage another nod.

“Hmm,” he mutters, considering it. “And what happens if you win?”

If anything, he sounds amused, like the idea of you winning this game makes him want to laugh.

“Then you let us all go. Me, Jimin, Taehyung. And you promise to never hurt Jungkook again.”

Leaning back in his chair, the Other Jimin juts his lips into a pout.

“You’re forgetting one important thing, Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Fuck. You were really hoping he’d let that one little detail slide.

“Even if you lose, what’s to stop you from trying to leave me again?”

Shit shit shit. You can’t let him sew the buttons, you just can’t. Come on, think of something.

“I’m asking for a bit of mercy here,” you say, letting your voice drip with vulnerability and delicious weakness, praying that he takes the bait. “You already have an advantage.”

Another wicked smile spreads across his face.

“Alright, my love,” he purrs, slow and disgustingly sweet. “I can be lenient just this once, for you.”

You unclench your jaw.

“You’re right about one thing, though,” he says as he rises to a stand and approaches you with a few strides of his long legs. Hovering behind your chair, he slides his hands up to your shoulders and leans in uncomfortably close.

“I’d much rather win you fair and square.”

The heat of his breath tickles your ear. You fight the urge to flinch away.

“When you lose, when you finally give in, you’ll beg me to sew those buttons.”

One of his hands snakes down to rest over your sternum.

“After you learn to love me, you’ll want nothing more than to be connected to me in every way possible.”

You can only form one coherent thought in your head: 

Fuck.

He seems reluctant as he pulls away, fingertips lingering a little too long. The fog in your brain clears a bit when he’s a safe distance away.

“I’ll give you three challenges. If you can get through all of them without breaking, I’ll let you all go,” he drawls almost lazily, walking around you in slow circles.

Without breaking? Your heart rate jumps a little at that.

“You’ll need to bring me something from each challenge, so I know you completed it.”

“How am I supposed to—” you begin, but he interrupts by reaching into his pocket and tossing something at you. Catching it by some miracle, you see that it’s a triangular stone with a hole in the middle, dark green like it was cut from jade.

“Look through the stone. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out,” he says with a grin. You can’t tell if the gesture is fond or condescending.

“Oh, and there will be a time limit, of course. You have until the moon is new.”

A scoff escapes your lips.

“Anything else?”

He only smiles again, eyes crinkling.

"One more thing.”

He closes the distance between you once more with a mischievous grin. Some of the juice leftover from the apple still lingers on the corner of your mouth, and he reaches towards you to swipe it away with his thumb.

Your stomach gives a little flip when he pops the digit in his mouth. And, judging from the dark look in his piercing, slitted eyes, he knows exactly what it does to you.

All this food on the table, and the only thing to pass his lips is the sweetness that has touched your own.

“I think that’s everything,” Jimin says nonchalantly, audibly sucking the last of it from his fingers.

“Do we have a deal?”

He extends his ringed hand with an expression that is downright ravenous. It’s unfair how attractive he is, with the faint yet sultry eyeshadow on his lids, the fluid lines of his neck and collarbone peeking out from his shirt.

You can’t help but agree with the cat’s words. You know, you’re walking right into his trap. But what other choice do you have? Jimin and Taehyung are here somewhere, and you’re the only one that can do anything to save them.

You shake his hand, and just like that, your deal with the devil is sealed.

“Good luck, sweetheart. I’ll be watching.”

The Other Jimin sidesteps you, skirting out of your field of vision, and when you turn around to keep him in your sights, you find that the room is empty. Except the feeling of eyes on your skin hasn’t disappeared with him.

Too long, you think bitterly. It’s been quiet for too long.

You’ve practically torn this house apart, kicked open every door, upturned every piece of furniture, scrutinized every nook and cranny for even the slightest trace of Jimin or Tae. And in that time, nothing’s jumped out at you, nothing even resembling a “challenge” has turned up.

The worst part is that you’re not sure if he’s toying with you or setting the stage for something truly horrifying.

The mirror at the end of the hall mocks you. It stays solid under your fingertips, leaving you glaring at a reflection you barely recognize. You have a feeling that the cold, dark room behind the glass is probably empty, anyway.

“You really are hopeless.” A voice, slick as oil, calls from behind you.

Whipping around, you’re met with the shape of the cat silhouetted in the kitchen doorway. There’s a moment of relief, then irritation as his words set in.

“It’s a big house, alright?” You bite back in frustration.

The cat rolls his eyes and musters a sigh.

“You won’t find anything in the house, stupid girl. Look at how much time you’ve already wasted,” he says, pointing his chin towards the window.

A sliver of darkness crawls across the full moon, covering nearly a quarter of its pale glow.

Shit. He wasn’t kidding about that time limit.

“I guess I’ll have to hold your hand through this one too,” the cat grumbles, sauntering towards the front door without checking to see if you’ll follow.

Of course, you hurry to catch up. His self-assured movements make you nervous, though. The slanted, almost bored look in those feline eyes, the slow sway of his tail. Why does it seem like he’s done this all before?

The cat leads you to the front yard, where the air prickles and hangs heavy with uncharacteristic humidity. His paws are silent on the dirt as he rounds the corner and stops at the basement stairs.

The entrance to the couple’s apartment is outlined in flashing marquee lights. You can hear the faint sound of music coming through the door.

“Your welcome,” the cat says, sounding very impressed with himself.

“Glad you don’t let it go to your head.” You don’t bother masking your annoyance this time.

He watches you venture down the stairs, tail twitching, and adds in a cool voice:

“Don’t forget to look through the stone.”

When you glance back over your shoulder, the cat is gone. A tiny bit relieved, but mostly terrified, you push open the door and step into the waiting darkness.

This definitely isn’t the grand theater you remember. The once vibrant, plush velvet curtain is faded and moth-eaten, its gold trim reduced to mere threads. Cobwebs and patches of damp mold cling to the rows of seats. The dimly glowing house lights reveal just how much dust floats in the air, you’re surprised you aren’t choking on it.

Something rustles from above. You look up at the arched ceiling just in time to see a dark shape crawl back into the shadows. Fishing your flashlight out of your bag, you flick it on and direct the beam.

They skitter to avoid the light. Dozens, hundreds of shiny black creatures with round bulbous bodies and too many long spindly legs to count. Each about the size of an overweight house cat, hanging upside down like bats.

You let out a startled yelp and point the flashlight back down at the ground.

Got it. Don’t look at the ceiling.

You don’t even have time to catch your breath before a blinding spotlight cuts through the dark room. The illuminated stage is occupied only by a gramophone seeping with crackling music, and two figures hunched back-to-back on the floor.

With one hand holding the flashlight and the other hovering over your bag, ready to grab a weapon, you begin your trek down the aisle.

The stench of rotting wood seems to thicken with each step towards the stage. Your footsteps are muffled by the filthy carpet, but you can still hear the creatures above your head shifting restlessly.

You’re only a few feet away from the stage when the two figures snap their necks to look at you.

Yoongi and Hoseok. They’re dressed in the same pink and green ensemble from the other night, but the colors seem...duller. Now that you look closer, you can see that they’re both covered in a thin layer of dust.

“Ahhh, our guest has finally arrived.” 

Hoseok’s voice comes out garbled and distorted. If you hadn’t seen him open his mouth, you wouldn’t have believed it came from him at all.

“What took you so long, Y/N? We’ve been waiting for you.”

It’s Yoongi’s voice this time, but deeper and more croaky, like the inside of his throat has rusted.

Their bodies jolt into action, spines bending unnaturally backwards as they rise to a stand without the help of their arms. They seem unfazed by the sound of their joints cracking.

You take an involuntary step backwards, and their vacant stare follows you.

“We’re so glad you could join us tonight.” Hoseok's smile is a little too wide.

“Yes, we’ve been preparing for your visit. So that you’ll never think to leave us ever again,” Yoongi adds with a nonchalance that doesn’t match his words.

They’re still attempting to be theatrical despite their derelict surroundings. Even after the auditorium, and the fantasy along with it, has decayed beyond recognition.

When you don’t offer any kind of response, their expressions visibly wilt. They look at each other for a split second, and you can’t quite pin down what they’re feeling in that exact moment. Discouraged? Irritated? Anxious?

It dawns on you the next time they glance your way.

The almost frantic look in their eyes, the way their bodies fidget and tremble. They’re not just dejected, they’re scared.

“Won’t you have a seat and enjoy the show?”

The show. You’re reminded of the challenge. This is all meant to distract you from the game.

You reach into your bag and shuffle around until you find what you’re looking for. The smooth jade is warm to the touch.

The world is a flat black and white when you look through the stone, except for two flickering sparks of color. Their wedding bands, you realize. The ring on Yoongi’s left hand glows powdery pink, while Hoseok’s is a bright, taffy green.

The air seems to shift. Something in their black eyes sharpens with your realization.

The creatures clinging to the ceiling start to shuffle. Still keeping to the patches of darkness, their twitching legs scrape and tap against the wood.

“Don’t you want to stay with us?”

“We’re just trying to make you happy.”

At this point, you can’t tell who’s saying what. All you can focus on is the sound of the creature’s footfalls. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a mass of black shapes inching down the walls.

They’re coming towards you.

“You’d never be unhappy again. We’d make sure of it.”

“You’d never be uncomfortable, never feel unsatisfied ever again. We’d always take care of you.”

Yoongi and Hoseok walk slowly across the stage, circling each other. But their movements are jerky and awkward, like they aren’t in full control of their limbs.

“You could help us, Y/N. Won’t you help us?”

The sharp tapping suddenly turns muffled, and although the sound is less unpleasant, a chill runs down the back of your neck. That means the creatures have reached the carpeted floor.

I need to get those rings.

It can’t be just that easy, though. There must be some sort of riddle or clever solution.

“We’re so lonely, Y/N. You’d really leave us all alone to starve? We’ll all die without you.”

You've heard those same words so many times, but somehow they hurt more coming from different voices.

Something thin and slightly sticky brushes against your leg. Flinching away, you realize that the creatures have gotten close enough to surround you.

“Shit shit shit.” You sweep the flashlight beam back and forth, keeping them at bay.

The only other source of illumination in the room is the bright white pool from the single spotlight. You hoist yourself onto the stage just as another gangly leg snags on the material of your pants.

Yoongi and Hoseok lurch forward as you dig in your bag for a weapon. They reach out to—you’re not sure. To attack? To subdue? It doesn’t matter, because your fingers have already found the handle of the knife.

Fight overpowers flight, and you swing without a second thought.

There’s no cry of pain, no gasp for air. Hoseok doesn’t even blink when the blade slices across his forearm.

You never thought the absence of blood would bother you so much.

It doesn’t deter them in the slightest. They continue their advances, pulling, grabbing, dragging you despite the frenzied slashing of your knife. Bodies covered in deep, ugly gashes, yet not a drop of blood.

How can you win this fight? How are you supposed to beat this impossible challenge?

There must be something you’re missing, some sort of clue, the last piece of the puzzle that will make it all connect.

Scrambling back and swinging your weapon with everything you’ve got, they push you to the edge of the stage where the creatures are waiting ever so patiently.

“We don’t want to hurt you.” Yoongi’s voice sags with guilt.

“But you know we have to do this,” Hoseok finishes, reaching to grab your ankle.

Just as you’re kicking away their outstretched arms, your attention catches on the shadows cast by the spotlight. Three silhouettes, one crumpled and small, two standing tall. The silhouette on the ground, your silhouette, has nothing unusual about it. Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s silhouettes, though, don’t match up with their owners.

Several long, thin lines rise from the tops of their heads to the rafters above. They move when they move, one connected to each of their limbs.

Two seconds, three seconds, then it clicks.

You don’t second-guess your revelation or dwell on the cruel joke. In the time it takes Hoseok to pin down your flailing legs, the knife has been switched out with the shears.

All it takes is one sweep of your arm, this time aimed just above his head, to take Hoseok down. You feel a tension against the shears, something invisible but still tangible.

Snip.

Hoseok falls like a sack of potatoes. Nothing but dead weight, his body hits the wood with a heavy thump. 

You expected Yoongi to be angry, to attack you with renewed ferocity, but the only emotion to flash across his face is fear. A pained cry that sounds like Hoseok’s name is torn from his chest. He reaches for the fallen man without a second glance your way.

That’s when you slice at the air above his head and send him tumbling to the ground as well.

The theater is silent. The music from the gramophone screeches to a halt, the creatures retreat from the edge of the stage and settle back against the walls. Eventually, the thrumming of your heartbeat quiets too.

Yoongi and Hoseok are motionless on the floor. At first, you think they’re unconscious, then you’re met with the sound of sniffling.

“Hobi? Hobi!��� Yoongi calls desperately.

“I’m here, Yoon,” Hoseok responds, trying to keep his voice steady, but you can hear the sobs bubbling in his throat.

They’re facing away from each other, bent uncomfortably on their sides. They can’t even move to wipe the tears that drip down their noses.

The rings, get the rings.

You drop to your knees by Hoseok’s body and slip it off his finger.

“Please...please don’t, Y/N,” he begs, but he’s helpless to stop you.

Yoongi is next. Doing your best to ignore his soft weeping, you grab the ring and let it disappear inside your bag.

“Don’t leave us like this, please! He’ll hurt us, he’ll separate us.”

As much as you might wish it, Yoongi’s pleas don’t fall on deaf ears.

Your feet freeze on the edge of the stage. Maybe it’s a mistake, but you take one last pitying glance back over your shoulder.

Poor things, you can’t help thinking. Puppets with their strings cut, blindly following orders. Beings motivated by fear.

Not you, though. You won’t be motivated by fear.

Yoongi is hyperventilating, now. Hoseok’s voice is shaky as he tries to talk him through it with sugary-sweet, comforting words that Yoongi clings to.

The sight makes your heart ache a little bit, but you can’t afford to stay any longer. The spotlight dims with each step down the aisle, so does the sound of their sobs.

You tell yourself that you have to keep going. You have to do this, for Jimin and Tae. If you can win this challenge then you can win the next two.

You can keep going. You can beat him.

Out of all the things you expected to see waiting for you at the top of the basement stairs, the cat in his human form is certainly not one of them.

Namjoon is wearing a path in the dirt, pacing back and forth with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his pressed slacks. His appearance is as polished as you would expect, but even with his neatly groomed hair and crisp black clothes, you’ve never seen him look so disheveled.

His head whips around when your foot meets the first step.

“What took you so long!” Namjoon snaps. There’s panic laced in his normally smooth voice.

That sends another chill through your body. It means something’s finally cracked his aloof demeanor. It means you’re in trouble.

Apparently, you’re not moving fast enough, because Namjoon rolls his eyes and huffs out a breath.

“You’re beginning to worry me, you know.”

The clearly exasperated man grabs your arm and drags you up the final steps. He starts to pull you through the garden, towards the line of trees that surround the property.

“Why are you worried? I completed the challenge, didn’t I?” You struggle to match the strides of his long legs.

“Oh, don’t be naive. This isn’t about the challenges, this is about distracting you. Look at the moon!”

You can’t, too afraid of what you’ll find. If Namjoon’s voice is any indication, it can’t be good.

“He wants you to run out of time, he wants you to feel guilty,” Namjoon says, dragging you along with renewed urgency. The garden seems darker than it was before. You realize with a swell of nausea that it’s because the moon is no longer full. Half of its pale glow has been swallowed by darkness. Half of your time, gone.

“You’re getting emotional.” He digs the stone out of your bag and shoves it in your hands.

“Don’t. That’s exactly how he wants you.”

With that, he shoves you to where the garden’s manicured lawn meets the forest’s dirt floor.

Of course, you scoff to yourself. Of fucking course the next challenge is in the deep dark woods.

You dig out your flashlight and shine it on the overgrown path, through the twisted, reaching branches ready to snag on your clothing. After one more impatient push from Namjoon, your feet are moving and your gaze is cutting through the tangle of vines and shadowy trees.

These woods are dense, so dense that the reach of your flashlight beam only stretches a few feet in front of you. All you can see is gnarled roots and the occasional spiderweb, the dew drops on its delicate strings illuminated by a few wispy curtains of moonlight.

You reach for the stone and hold it up to your eye. It’s much warmer than you remember, a dull heat thrumming against your fingers. You can’t see much, just darkness and the texture of foliage.

Something glints up ahead. A speck of light, a candle flame trembling in the gentle, chilly wind. Pale yellow, it flickers like a dying firefly.

Dead leaves crunch under your feet as you approach the only beacon of light to guide you. With this newfound target, it’s easy to ignore the sound of rustling and scattered footsteps that come from inside the woods.

You follow it deeper and deeper into the forest’s beating heart, fighting the urge to hesitate or even turn back altogether. The image of Taehyung’s tear-stained cheeks and stitched-up chest, of Jimin’s eye smile behind his crooked glasses, reminds you that you can’t.

You have to see that smile again. Even if it’s just once.

The light is much closer now, though you still can’t see its source. You swear you can hear several sets of footsteps instead of just one, and it’s unclear if they are faraway or right next to you.

Your foot knocks into a dark shape, a fallen branch or stray rock. You don’t fall, regaining your balance just before your palms hit the dirt. The flashlight beam catches something.

The bottom of a shoe, the bottom of a leather boot.

Breath shaky in your ears, you sweep the beam higher. Ripped black jeans. Higher. A torso engulfed by an oversized coat. Higher. Matted black hair, silver earrings.

“Jungkook.”

His body is propped up against a moss-eaten tree trunk, head lolled to the side at an uncomfortable angle. Several days worth of fallen leaves are scattered over his clothes.

You drop to your knees and grab his arms. Shaking his shoulders doesn’t make him stir, neither does calling out his name. He’s still alive, according to the weak rise and fall of his chest, even if his skin has lost all traces of it’s youthful glow.

The stitches over his lips has been cut, letting his jaw go slack. When you lean closer, a green six-legged insect skitters out of his open mouth.

Grabbing one of your water bottles, you tip some of its contents past his cracked lips, then over the top of his head to try to wake him. It drips down the curtain of hair covering his eyes, down the slope of his nose, but Jungkook doesn’t so much as twitch.

“Come on, kid,” you mutter, gently slapping his cold cheek.

No movement. Tilting the bottle until water overflows down the sides of his mouth, he finally jerks awake, sputtering and coughing.

A groan rumbles from his throat.

“Master?” It comes out as a dry rasp.

“Jungkook, it’s me. It’s Y/N,” you say, soothing your hands up and down his arms in an attempt to generate some heat.

“No...no, no,” he mumbles, sighing your name like it hurts his lungs.

He won’t look at you. Head hanging low, bangs covering his face, his gaze fixed to the ground.

With a thick feeling welling up in your throat, you grip his chin and force him to look up.

Again, painfully again, you make out the shape of criss-crossing lines, dried blood and scabbed-over puncture marks.

This time they’re over his eyelids.

The sparse moonlight falls on the dark lashes now permanently stuck fanning against his cheek.

He wouldn’t stop crying until I forced him.

“Shit,” you gasp, tearing your hand away like you’re the one who’s been tortured, but Jungkook reaches for it again the second it leaves him.

He mutters something unintelligible, so you lean in to catch it better.

“Hungry, please.”

Hungry, hungry, he’s hungry. How long has he been out here?

You reach for a granola bar, crumbling off a piece and pressing it to his mouth. Tentatively, he parts his lips and lets you feed him. He chews once, twice, then spits it out with a gag.

“No, no, hungry. I’m hungry, please.”

Your brows furrow in confusion.

“‘M hungry,” he begs, pulling you closer by the wrist.

It’s only then that you remember what you’re here for. Shuffling a little closer to his huddled form, since he seemed to tense if you strayed too far, you bring the stone up to your eye with the hand that isn’t trapped in his iron grip.

The source of the yellow light is his charm bracelet. It glows more vibrant now that he’s conscious. The stone, too, burns hot in your palm.

“Jungkook, listen to me,” you begin, as if he could do anything else but listen with his eyes sewn shut.

“I need this.” Your fingers brush against the bracelet’s chain.

A jolt pulses through his body, stiffening immediately.

“What?” he blurts out. “Why?”

If he could look at you, you have no doubt that it’d be with those begging, watery eyes.

“You know why, Jungkook,” you reply solemnly.

His breath is quickening, limbs restlessly twitching. The hand around your wrist tightens.

“You’ll leave again,” he mutters, lip trembling. You wonder if he’s aware, or maybe it’s intentional, of the way your chest seizes with guilt.

“I need this to help you!” Slowly, you reach for the bracelet. “I’m trying to help you.”

He seems to anticipate it even without his sight. Ripping his hand away, he scrambles back until his back is pressed against the tree trunk.

“You need it?” His voice sags. “You already have everything you need. It’s all right here!”

Your face falls. He’s much too far gone to reason with. This isn’t the same boy that helped you escape. This is Other Jimin’s poison, this is fear and desperation and blind survival instinct.

The worst part is that you can’t decide if you resent him or feel sorry for him.

“You don’t want to help, you want to leave!” he snaps, eyebrows creasing like he would glare if it was possible.

“All you do is try to leave! You want us to all starve!”

You grit your teeth. Unfortunately, you’re going to have to do this the hard way.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

As quick as you can, you grab his hand and slip the bracelet off his wrist.

An awful betrayed sound leaves his throat, and for a moment he’s shocked still, still reeling from the realization that you’d leave them all again. The next second, he’s lurched into action.

He reaches for you with both hands as you move to stow your prize in your bag. Catching you by the shoulders, he tries to pull you down to the ground.

You’re knocked down to your elbows. Curling up on your side, you deflect his advances for a brief second, which you use to stash the bracelet in your bag along with a handful of dirt.

There’s that sound again. The sound of footsteps.

You feel Jungkook frantically grabbing at your limbs, anything he can reach. Without thinking, you deliver a powerful kick behind you.

An audible crunch, then a groan and broken sob. Foolishly, you sneak a glance over your shoulder.

Black fluid flows from the hand cupped around his nose, muffling his pained whimpers.

Even though your throat feels clogged, you use the moment of precious distraction to haul yourself to your feet. You manage to get a few feeble steps in before a hand wraps around your ankle and you’re yanked back down to the ground.

Both hands gripping your ankles now, Jungkook uses all the strength he can muster to drag you backwards.

You feel the sharp bite of scattered rocks and fallen branches against your body, mud caked under your fingernails as you scramble to crawl away.

There are faces peeking out of the woods.

Pale, misshapen faces with too-long necks and dull, marble-like eyes. Some have gaunt frames with sinewy limbs, some have bloated bodies that resemble rising bread dough. They look as if they’ve been molded from lumpy clay or melted wax.

It’s hard to tell if Jungkook is crying or simply heaving with the effort of holding onto you. Whichever it is, you know that he’s not letting you get away without dragging it out first. And with one look at the moon overhead, you know you don’t have time for a dragged out escape.

So you do something he doesn’t expect. You turn and attack.

It’s clear from the way he gasps and flails that his only concern was keeping you from running away, and it seems he burned most of his energy doing just that. Blind, starving, broken, his attempts to defend himself are pathetically weak.

He’s so taken aback, so terribly dismayed by your assault. It only makes you feel that much more guilty at the fact that he never expected you to go on the offensive.

Decisive and deliberate, the grotesque forest creatures react to the rustling. Jerking towards you, they start to make their way through the brush. They seem to be drawn towards sound, much like how the creatures in the theater were repelled by light.

You wonder how long you have until they reach you. Then, a horrible idea flickers in your head. A cruel, effective idea.

There’s a few moments of struggling before you manage to pin Jungkook down and wrestle his arms behind his back. Fumbling for the roll of duct tape in your bag, you hear the slow approach of the deformed creatures through the overgrown thickets. 

You’ve got both legs straddled on either side of his body, using your weight to keep him still. Or rather, as still as possible.

He’s struggling considerably, using every bit of strength left in his body to fight you off.

It’s no use, though. In just a handful of seconds, you’ve got his wrists bound. Then his ankles after switching your body around to face his legs.

There’s no fight left in him now, only sobbing and begging.

You look back to the way you came. The bracelet is lightweight, but your bag feels heavy enough to drag on the ground.

Don’t look back. Don’t. It’s Namjoon’s voice.

The creature’s footsteps are hurried, then suddenly cease. The same time that Jungkook’s sobs turn to screams.

You’re getting emotional.

Rustling, the sound of boots frantically kicking. Pained grunts and hitches of breath.

Don’t. That’s exactly how he wants you.

With the creatures distracted, you make your escape.

Namjoon is not waiting for you when you emerge from the woods. The pristine lawn is empty, not even an insect can be found. There are just the vines slowly slithering over the garden wall, the swollen flower buds pulsing like beating hearts, looking like they’re ready to burst with pus.

When your eyes shift over your surroundings, a distant light catches your attention.

It’s the door to the attic apartment. Swung wide, a deep orange glow emits from the opening, shedding light onto the metal staircase below. The light seems to cast more shadows than actual illumination.

You don’t have to hunt for this challenge, and you have a feeling that that’s not a good thing. It's practically beckoning you.

You can’t help but approach it hesitantly. A quick look at the moon proves to be a good motivator. A waning crescent.

You’re almost out of time.

Taking the stairs two at a time now, you reach the landing out of breath. Peering into the room, all you can see is the miniature circus tent. It glows bright red and yellow, while the rest of the room is shrouded in complete darkness.

You take the first tentative step forward, then the next, then the next, until your next step is met with a stomach-churning squeal and a squirming mass against your shoe.

Yanking your foot back, you realize with the sounds of skittering little paws that you stepped on a rat’s tail.

“Shit fucking shit fuck,” you blurt out almost involuntarily.

Small, scattered footsteps echo around the room.

“Rats. Lovely,” you mutter, mentally brushing yourself off before trekking deeper.

You pause at the shrunken entrance of the tent. Then the nauseating realization hits you. This is the last challenge. It all comes down to this.

You shove down the sudden wave of fear that wells up inside you.

Only one more to go. You’ve come this far.

You know that pretending to be brave sometimes helps. So, with squared shoulders and a clenched jaw, you bend down and brush past the tent curtains.

Once again, the inside of the tent defies all physics. It’s the size of a real amphitheater, only now it is covered in cobwebs and scraps of fallen, rotting fabric.

A hanging sign across the theater reads Hall of Human Curiosities.

In the center of the arena is a crumpled shape. It twitches every time you move, like it can feel you shift in the air. You can vaguely make out the outline of a coat and top hat.

With each step forward, the shape rises and elongates, growing taller and taller until you’re at its feet as if it’s being pulled taught by an invisible string. Even though it’s too tall to be considered human, you recognize it as Mr. Kim. Top hat draped with spiderwebs, golden tassels frayed, the rich royal blue of his jacket faded and dull.

His mouth is stretched in a wide, teeth-baring smile that his eyes don’t match. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was forced to stay that way with wire or string.

“Finally.”

His voice is so deep and distorted that it almost makes you shiver, sounding more like it’s coming from an animal through an old radio. Despite his too-wide grin, the tone of his voice is devoid of emotion.

“It was cruel of you to keep us waiting for so long.” Mr. Kim says, eerily slow. “You know how hungry we are. I can’t...hold them...much longer.”

You feel frozen under his intense gaze and unflinching smile. Not to mention that he’s several feet taller than you, looming over your form enough to cast a shadow. You have to crane your neck to look at his face.

“I-uh...Whe-Where is it...?” you manage to get out.

He just stands there staring down at you, unblinking.

You start to take a step backward, but he grabs your arm with startling force. His long, thin fingers are big enough to wrap around your whole bicep.

“Come now. We’ve waited long enough,” he snarls, pulling back the curtain to reveal a hallway lined with doors. He roughly drags you along, lifting you by the arm so your toes barely touch the floor. His eyes are fixed on you the entire time, not once glancing ahead to see where he’s going.

He stops by one of the doors and pushes it open, smile impossibly growing.

“Behold, the Two-Headed Monster.”

You really shouldn’t have looked.

The sight alone is enough to make you gag, not even considering the pitiful sounds coming from the unfortunate creature in the center of the room.

Barely even human, more like a sick deviation of humanity gone wrong. A creature with one head of pink hair and one head of white. Crudely stitched together, it’s nearly impossible to discern where one begins and the other ends.

You slap a hand over your mouth. 

Remnants of the sparkling pink and green suits, now patches of fabric, are littered across the floor. Now you can scarcely make out the shape of the two of them.

They’re a mass of flesh now. Some body parts are stretched and engorged, with others severed and reattached somewhere else. Stripped, tormented, ripped apart, and sewn back completely wrong.

They wanted so badly to be together.

You close your eyes and stumble back into the hall, feeling Mr. Kim’s towering shadow behind you.

“Shocked?” he asks blankly.

When you look up at him, hand still over your mouth, there is something darker in his eyes.

“Why should you be? You’re the one who condemned them to this fate.”

His voice is colder, sharper.

Mr. Kim grips your arm again and hauls you further down the long corridor. He stops at the next door down, opening it with his gaze still stuck to you.

“The Human Pin Cushion,” he announces proudly.

You don’t look. At least, not at first. But you can hear Jungkook's screams.

Somehow they're worse than the screams that rang through the woods. Those were panicked and scared, still tinged with the possibility of attracting help.

These are utterly hopeless. Jungkook's tortured cries don't ring with any semblance of hope. Broken sobs rip through his lungs. Sniffling whimpers and hitched breaths, all uttered with the knowledge that no sympathy will follow.

Your face is decidedly turned away, eyes squeezed shut.

Mr. Kim grabs your jaw, pinches hard on your cheeks, and wrenches your head to face the poor boy in the middle of the room.

"Look! Look at what you've done!" he snaps, voice so deep and rumbling that it seems to make your bones vibrate.

Oh god. Oh my fucking god.

It takes a moment to recognize that the figure in front of you is a person. No one's spine is supposed to curve back like that. The joints in the elbows and knees are supposed to bend in the opposite direction.

Jungkook is a crumpled shape, stripped down to his barest form and cruelly contorted to fit the name of the exhibit, his arched torso as the "cushion."

And just as the name suggests, every inch of his flesh is pierced with needles. Small, syringe-sized needles, needles the length of your hand, giant needles big enough to stab through his chest and come out of his back.

Thick, strong needles pin his hands and feet to the floor. They’re plunged deep into his ear canals, twin rivers of blood flowing down his neck. They’re in his eyes and through his tongue.

Then a truly horrible thought enters your mind. With so much bending in the wrong direction, kneecaps shattered and spine broken, along with the lethal stab wounds, he should be dead by now.

But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

Jimin doesn’t want them dead. He wants them to suffer. He wants you to watch them suffer.

You can’t think of a worse state to be in. Never dying, only the pain of dying.

It’s too much. You wrench yourself free from Mr. Kim’s grasp and turn away, a sob getting stuck in your throat.

“Had enough yet?” he asks, patronizing.

Slowly, you pivot to face him. Then you spit in his face.

A growl rumbles in his gut as he wipes his cheeks. That infernal smile doesn’t so much as budge as his brows furrow and his eyes zero in on you.

"Fucking bitch," he hisses.

The next moment, he has your hair in his fist, dragging you back into the hallway. You scream and struggle, but all he does is give another cruel yank.

You only break free when you throw your elbow back and hit a particularly soft spot in his abdomen. A shrill, squeaking cry immediately follows, and you feel a chunk of your hair being ripped from your skull as you jerk away from him.

Panting, you stumble backward.

Mr. Kim is clutching his stomach with hunched shoulders, looking like he's ready to lunge at you. Small, restless lumps shift under his clothes.

Something lights up in those sinister eyes, as if he's been given permission after all this time holding back. That fleeting light turns to something darker.

You were right to take a step back when Mr. Kim unbuttoned his jacket, because clinging to his dull, greying flesh is over a dozen oversized rats.

They've chewed most of him down to exposed tissue and sinewy muscle, down to the bone. Elongated, yellowed front teeth gnawing away at him bit by bit.

He doesn't even seem to notice. All he does is stare you down with those sharp eyes and stomach-churning smile. He doesn't even flinch when one of the rats bursts an artery and sends blood spurting from his rib cage.

Mr. Kim's eyes roll to the back of his head.

"Didn't I tell you? We're hungry."

Then the rats turn their red-eyed sights on you.

Falling from Mr. Kim's body, they close the distance with startling speed. They crawl up your legs, jump up onto your torso, skitter up your sleeves and down the back of your shirt.

You scream and flail when they bite into your flesh and make deep gashes with their claws. The sensation of foreign paws all over your body makes shivers creep up your spine.

You can hear Mr. Kim's cackling laughter as you grab each small, wriggling body and toss it to the ground. Just as you're sure the last one is off of you, Mr. Kim opens his jacket more and a fresh surge of rats pours out.

They scurry across the floor, but you resort to frantically stomping to keep them at bay.

There are too many. They keep multiplying out of thin air, their squeals and pattering feet worming into your ears.

You don't realize that you're retreating until your back hits the wall. In a panic, you reach back and yank on the first door handle you find, slipping inside and slamming the door behind you.

There are a few seconds to catch your breath before a fuse fizzles and the popping sound of illuminating light bulbs fills the room.

You whip around, grimacing in the harsh light. By the time your eyes adjust, you can hear the sound of soft breathing.

You don't know if you could even define this space as a room, there are no discernible walls or ceiling. It's just a darkness. A darkness broken only by the presence of several fluorescent lamps and a narrow table.

You hesitate, pressing yourself as close to the door as possible, but you can still hear that quiet breathing. It shakes a little, then steadies itself as if the person it belongs to is trying to calm themselves.

Taking a slow step forward, you see the rise and fall of someone's chest from atop the table. Another step, and you can see the person's legs, then their arms, then the top of their head.

You can see that their limbs are pinned down with thin straps. You can see that their torso is bare. You can see that it's Taehyung.

A stream of muttered expletives fall from your mouth. Lunging forward, you stand over the table that he's sprawled across and yank on the straps.

They're made of hard, strong material, serrated on the side against the skin so the more he struggles, the more it cuts. Each strap is secured by a silver padlock.

"Fuck!" you shout, the sound echoing in the nothingness.

"It's okay," Taehyung says gently, reaching to place two fingers on the back of your hand in comfort.

His wrists are covered in shallow gashes and dried blood.

You finally bring yourself to look at his face. Curly hair matted and sweat-pasted to his forehead. Red, watery eyes that look like they've been crying for hours. Face drained of color, drained of hope.

Yet he still finds it in himself to give you a small, sad smile.

"It's okay, let's just get it over with," he says, looking away.

You furrow your brows in confusion. Taehyung doesn't meet your eyes.

"What?"

He still doesn't look at you, only nods his head to his left.

You have to lean to see the other side of the table over his body. It's lined with gleaming tools, oversized tweezers, odd-looking scissors, saws of all different sizes. Then you look to the left a little more, to the row of scalpels.

It's then that you realize what you're really looking at. Surgical lights, an operating table, medical tools.

"I don't understand," you say as a squirming knot forms in your stomach. It's a bit of a lie. You're beginning to, but it's too horrible to admit.

You glance back at the door you came through. The sign reads LIVE Open-heart Surgery!

Taehyung gulps, eyes going shiny.

"Look through the stone," he says.

Reluctantly, you pull it out of your bag and raise it to your eye. You scan the edges of the "room," finding nothing with your gray-tinted vision.

"Look down," Taehyung encourages.

You don't move, something cold and paralyzing has taken hold of you.

"Y/N, look down."

The urgency in his voice forces you to comply. The surrounding area of his chest is gray, but in the center, right over his heart, are two glowing circles.

The thing you need to complete the last challenge.

The stone clatters to the floor.

"Oh...fuck," you exhale as the strength vanishes from your legs. You brace yourself on the edge of the table, eyes stuck to the spot on Taehyung's chest where the stitches lie.

"Not that. Please not that," you mutter.

Taehyung's tears have escaped his eyes despite his best efforts.

"It's okay, it's okay," he says, though his voice sounds broken.

"It's not okay! That sick bastard!" you scream, slamming a fist down on the surface of the table. Frantically, you grab one of the tools and try to cut through his straps.

"Y/N..." Taehyung sighs.

The material won't even fray, the blade seems to slide off like it's coated in oil. You abandon it and grab the scissors.

"Y/N, please..."

It's the same story, not even a scratch. Tossing it away, you grab the sharpest-looking saw.

"You know that's not how this works," Taehyung says, almost too quiet for you to hear.

"Screw how it works."

The saw's teeth refuse to catch, pressing harder, harder, harder until it slips from your hand completely.

Two sounds ring in your ears, the clang of metal on the floor, and the faraway reverb of laughter.

His laughter.

"You don't have much of a choice," Taehyung whispers.

It's beginning to set in. Another cruel joke to stomach. You'd hoped and prayed for Tae to be free somehow. Obviously not like this.

"Please," Taehyung murmurs. "Please...do it."

By now the tears have pooled enough to blur your vision. Your hands shake with the thought of holding one of those scalpels.

"Can't," you barely manage to get out.

"Yes you can," he continues gently. "Do it for me. Do it for you."

"It would kill you!"

He tries to blink away the water in his own eyes.

"It's okay, I want you to do it."

You turn away from the table in frustration, pacing back and forth.

You can barely begin to wrap your head around how you could manage it. Just cutting into his chest with no anesthesia...

The blood. The smell.

You’d have to saw through his ribs, reach between his lungs. There are no clamps or tools that could be used to prevent hemorrhaging. You have no idea how to avoid major arteries. He’d bleed out in minutes.

You could hardly bear hearing Jungkook’s tortured screams, you don’t know if you could handle Taehyung’s too.

Something cracks underneath you.

You look down and find a fracture along the ground a few feet away.

Taehyung hears it. His eyes widen, breath quickening.

“You have to! Please, Y/N!” he pleads. “You have to get out!”

You hover over the table and try to console him, but he only jerks against his restraints.

Another crack sounds, louder and longer.

“Take it!” he says frantically, nodding to one of the scalpels.

You pick it up because of the panic in his voice, hand trembling.

"You just have to cut the stitches," he rambles on. "You just have to...just..."

His eyes dart back and forth, trying to catch a glimpse of the floor. You barely hear it or care to look, too focused on the spot over Taehyung's chest.

"Come here! Y/N, come here," he orders, and you comply hesitantly.

"Just listen to my voice, okay?"

You don't feel yourself nod, even though you know you told your brain to.

"Okay, good. Now, take the blade and cut the first stitch."

The breath clogs up in your lungs, a distressed wheeze escaping your throat.

"It's okay! It's okay, don't freak out! We'll take it one step at a time."

He brushes your other hand with his fingertips. It makes you look at him and his leveled stare.

"You can do it. Just the first stitch, okay?"

The certainty in his voice guides your hand since your brain has checked out. The blade hovers over the black string.

"Do it," he says sharply, and you bring it down to snip it away.

Taehyung can't hide his flinch.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you blurt out.

He clenches his teeth and controls his expression.

"It's okay, you're okay. Now the next one."

You stare down at it, limbs frozen.

"Come on, you can do it," he encourages.

You shake your head.

"I don't think I can."

Another crack rings in your ears.

"Just do it, Y/N!" Taehyung shouts, frantic now.

Panicking, you reach over and cut the next stitch. Your hand is shaking so bad that it jerks and slices through the scar tissue, blooming red.

Taehyung exclaims in pain, his whole body arching in a painful grimace.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" you shout like it's being ripped from you.

Taehyung tries so hard to hide it all, tries so hard to look brave.

"It's...okay. I'm fine."

He sniffles and takes a few sharp breaths.

"Keep going," he urges.

Again, you shake your head.

"Come on, Y/N. You can do it," he continues. "Just cut the rest of them, and then...then make the incision."

His breath catches at that, the incision. As if the weight of what he's begging for finally sets in. He's begging you to kill him.

"Just get it over with! Please!"

He's beginning to hyperventilate, arching against the cool surface of the operating table.

“Please, please,” he sniffles, deflating in resignation.

“I can’t let you be trapped here.”

Something about that statement takes the air right from your lungs.

Because it's you who's supposed to be saying that. You were the one who made that promise to him. It's one of the reasons why you came back.

Why you came back.

You came back to free them. Jimin, the real Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook if you could manage it.

But it's clear now that you can't do both. You can't free yourself and the rest of them. Jungkook would still be stuck here, and Tae...

If there was a pool of nausea at the bottom of your stomach, then a stone of dread just plopped down into it.

Because you just realized. You can't do it.

Somehow you were able to face Yoongi and Hoseok, cut their ties and leave them severed. And somehow you were able to resist Jungkook's desperate pleas, then leave him behind for who knows what to feed on.

But you can't do this. You can't torture Taehyung with your own hands. You can't throw his life away just so you can walk away from the mess you caused.

You were a fucking fool. You were a fool to believe that he would let you walk away so easily, without losing something.

How naive of you. In the end, you didn't prevent any suffering, you just prolonged it. And now he's throwing it back in your face.

If you want to save yourself, the rest of them must suffer.

Part of you wishes that you didn't care about their fate so much. Most of them aren't even human, technically. Just puppets in his game.

But then you think of how Jungkook helped you escape despite his fears, how Hoseok and Yoongi love each other so desperately. Beings with free will.

And Taehyung. Taehyung with his sweater and stuffed Pomeranian. Kept and punished like a pet, just because he wanted to be loved. Now willing to give himself up so you can escape his same fate.

In the end, Namjoon was right. You walked right into his trap.

But you suppose you were right too. After all, when you came crawling back, you said you knew what you were doing. You knew what you were willing to give up.

The cracks crawl towards your feet, intersecting at their jagged edges as they go.

You can't do it, and Taehyung knows it when you let your limp wrist hit the edge of the table.

His eyes follow the motion, widening in horror. When they look back up at you, they're filled with pitying disbelief.

"What are you doing?" he whispers.

You try to hide the way your mouth and chin contorts when you're about to cry.

Wiping your slippery cheeks, you take Taehyung’s hand.

“It’s going to be okay," you begin, pinning his gaze with your own.

His eyes are wider and glossier than ever, and when he tightens his hand around yours you see his lip give a slight quiver.

"It's all going to be okay.”

The floor is a web of intertwining fractures. You swear you feel it moving under your feet, swelling and deflating slowly, breathing in anticipation.

Your throat constricts in a tight swallow.

“I promised that I’d get you out of here, didn’t I?” you whisper with a defeated smile.

Tae’s eyes lock on your face. You think you hear him mutter your name tearfully, pityingly.

The scalpel slips from your other hand.

It hits the floor.

The ground caves in.

You have no idea how far the fall is. Whether it's a few feet or few floors, all you know is that your body stings sharp all over.

Maybe you lost consciousness, because the first thing you register is squeezing your eyes shut, then wrenching them open to see your surroundings better.

You're not surprised to find that it's extremely dim, too dark to see the top of the ceiling, if there is one. Shards of glass litter the ground, a floor of rotten wood slats. Upon looking down at yourself, you find that you're covered in cuts and gashes, in addition to the numerous rat bites.

Peeling wallpaper, once white, now a faded and stained beige, lines the four walls. It bulges and swells in some places, as if the room is bursting at the seams.

One shadowy corner is flooded with piles of old books, scraps of fabric, pieces of broken furniture, all spilling out from a split in the wallpaper like pus from an infected wound.

Another corner is occupied by an ancient-looking grand piano. A few rats linger atop the yellowing keys, occasionally setting off one out-of-tune note.

But more than anything else, the room is filled with strands and strands of thread-like silk. Clinging to the walls, creating webbed hammocks over your head, rising from the piano's lid in a spiraling tower.

In some places, it's sparsely woven, like a net for catching big game. In other places, it's knit thick and tight like a finely crocheted blanket. They reach from wall to wall, from floor to unseen ceiling, all creating a massive web that barely lets you move around the room without touching one of the delicate fibers. A hoard of miscellaneous things are tangled up in it. Scraps of paper, silverware, old keys, knickknacks and trinkets.

Hot breath hits the nape of your neck.

You flinch with a short gasp, whipping around.

There is no one behind you. Nothing but silence and your own shadow.

Then a pair of hands comes to rest on your shoulders. That same wisp of breath fans against the back of your head. Breathing you in, inhaling the scent of you.

"Fucking finally."

Everything freezes, everything but the pound of your heart in your ears. You don't think you could move if you tried, all your limbs feel foreign and solid as lead. Your skin is crawling, hyperaware of the way his fingertips graze down the slope of your neck, across the curve of your collarbones. The way his cold hand wraps softly around your throat.

"Waiting, waiting, waiting, and now...finally."

His hand tightens with the word. The patience of a predator worn thin.

Helpless defeat. You feel like you're shrinking, deflating with the pressure of his hands on you. As if he could mold you like clay, press you down until you're small enough to squirm in the grip of his fist.

"Aww. Scared, love?"

You didn't realize that you were shaking. You hear him chuckle, clearly amused.

"Poor thing," he drawls tauntingly, squishing your cheeks and gently moving your head side to side.

"So kind, so selfless, so naive."

His right hand doesn't leave your face, holding your chin, while his other hand wraps around your waist from behind.

"So lovely. Trying so hard to save everyone. I couldn't have asked for anyone better."

His fingers trace down your spine, earning another shiver.

"And you tried sooo hard, didn't you?"

His patronizing tone makes your eyes burn, threatening tears. But you don't want to give him the satisfaction.

"Tried so hard to resist, to deny me, to be stubborn. Tried to save your precious Taehyung and that fucking parasite you call a boyfriend. And just look at you now."

His hands slip away from your body so he can walk around you in a slow circle.

"A sweet little thing who bit off more than they could chew."

Something in your brain says that you should be angry. But all you are is numb.

"After all the things you've done...Your actions deserve to be punished, really. But there will be time for that."

"All that I've done?" you blurt out, but it comes out as more of a whisper.

You feel his eyes lock onto your form, but you still refuse to look at him.

"You think laying this place to ruin is a simple offense? Don't forget, you tried to kill us."

You glare at the floor, clenching your fists at your side.

He scoffs.

"You still don't get it, do you?"

He crowds your space, nose brushing your cheek, chest pressed up against your side.

"This is my world you're in, and I make the rules here."

Your eyes are shut tight, jaw clenched to avoid saying something that will add to your long list of regrets.

"Look at me," he commands.

The stubborn thing that you are, you only turn your head away a fraction more.

"I said, look at me." His voice has gone deeper, a perfect imitation of Jimin's accent when speaking his native dialect. He puts two fingers on the cheek turned away from him and guides your head to face him.

Reluctantly, you obey.

He's dressed in black. A jacket thrown over broad shoulders, sleeves a sheer black lace to reveal the toned muscle underneath. Unbuttoned, it shows the smooth expanse of his chest, down to the cut V below his thin waist.

Below that, black pants that cling tight to his thick thighs. Silver jewelry glints all about him, dangling from his ears, from his wrist, rings on nearly every finger, a body chain draping tantalizing down his torso.

He moves his fingers to your chin and tilts it up.

His hair is long and wavy, dark curtains hanging over his eyes. Those eyes, hooded and black as pitch, are fixed on you intently. And again, you're stuck staring at the sharp line of his jaw, the dewy skin on his cheeks, those lips, now quirked in a smug grin.

"Just look at me. You know I’m beautiful.”

Clenching your teeth, you hate the fact that he’s right. As much as you wish you were sickened by the sight of him, you can’t deny that his face is the most stunning thing you’ve ever seen.

“Look at what’s yours," he says, letting his fingertips trail down the column of your neck. He pinches the front of your shirt and tugs you closer when you subconsciously try to step away.

"Look at what you fell in love with," he says sharply, gripping the hair at the back of your head and forcing you to meet his eyes.

"Here, I'm a god."

It's that statement that finally triggers your rage.

A god, he says. Yes, a cruel, cunning, manipulative, deceitful, sadistic god. Playing with all of your lives like they're as meaningless as chess pieces. Taunting you just because he can.

Now you're clenching your teeth and digging your nails into the meat of your palms.

"You're not a god. You're a monster."

He stiffens.

"You still don't get it. Nothing you do or say will ever make a difference to me. I don't love you, I never will."

He takes a step back like you've punched him, the confidence draining from his face.

Good. All you have are your words, and you want to use them to make him crumble. You want to gut him.

"You're fucking disgusting. You're sick and twisted and unworthy of love. You're right, I did try to kill you. And I would do it again in a fucking heartbeat. I would leave you here to rot and starve for the rest of your miserable existence and not even bat an eye."

He backs away from you like that will protect him from your venomous words, one hand moving to clench his chest.

"You're ugly inside and out. You make me sick! I hate you! You hear me! I HATE YOU!"

It looks as though his whole face quivers. For a moment, he looks like a little boy playing dress up, pretending to be something pretty only for reality to crush his fantasies.

Cradling his stomach, he hunches over and lets out a guttural groan. His breath hitches, gagging and retching until he vomits up something thick and black.

When he looks up again, dark liquid stains his lips, dripping down his chin. And his eyes, they've gone completely black again. And just like two wells of ink, they leak twin streams of black tears.

The center of his chest, right over his heart, is bleeding.

"Spoiled brat," he spits. Even though his eyes are a bottomless black, you can see the fury inside them.

"You want me to be the bad guy so badly."

His voice is different. Something in it is unhinged, eerily calm.

"All I've done is give you exactly what you asked for. Better house, better companions, better food, better sex..."

That makes a shameful blush flare on your face.

"And yet all you want is to make me the villain. Well fine. I'll be your villain. Maybe then you'll be happy."

He doubles over again, but this time it's from laughter. It builds and builds until he's practically cackling.

"Or maybe you don't want to be happy. You say I'm sadistic, but I think you're just a masochist."

His shoulders are hunched unnaturally, slowly growing under the material of his jacket.

"Is that it, babe? You need me to be the bad guy so you won't feel guilty about being with me?"

Something is falling from his shirtsleeves, from his pant legs. When you look closer you see it's handfuls of beetles and maggots, skittering and wriggling out of his clothes. A dank, musty smell fills the air.

"Need me to snatch you up so it's all out of your control?"

His limbs are stretching, legs turning lanky, too-long arms hanging down in front of him.

"Ahh, that's it, isn't it? My little glutton for punishment."

You're backing away, now. As his skin drains of color and his cheeks become sunken, a dark mass begins to grow from his back. The skin of his right hand peels and rots away, leaving behind a skeletal hand of metal, fingers long and sharp as needles. His other hand looks like the hand of a corpse, with graying skin and knuckles held together with string like a doll. It's wet with that same black liquid, which leaks from the stitches littering his skin and drips down his fingers.

Another look at his torso, and you can see his ribs pressing against his flesh. His stomach and waist are shriveled like a starving man's.

"You know, all I would dream of is stealing you away, taking you for myself, spoiling you, filling you to the brim with my love, stuffing you so full of me that you're bursting. Turns out that's what you wanted all along too."

"No!" you protest, trying to distance yourself from him as much as you can.

"Deny it all you want, sweetheart. But I know you. I know you in ways that you don't even realize."

"You're fucking delusional," you say, not sure whether to laugh or cry at the realization.

He just laughs again.

"I'm the delusional one? Don't forget that it was you who asked for a different life, for a partner that actually wanted you. And trust me, I want you."

A wicked smile appears on his blackened lips.

"I see now that I've been too soft on you, love. If you want me to be a monster, then I better start acting like one."

The mass on his back swells and squirms. It grows and grows until it looks like the abdomen of some giant spider. His eyes close, head leaning back as the veins in his neck strain. A deep, inhuman growl rumbles from his chest.

It's as your back hits the wall that eight black, gangly legs burst from the bulbous mass.

A scream for no one to hear rips through you.

They keep stretching and growing until they nearly reach the walls on either side of him. His body is lifted off the ground and hangs limp, now towering over you.

You're sliding along the wall, desperately trying to get away as he slowly advances.

"Do I disgust you? Am I as ugly as you say? Are you proud of the monster you created?!"

"Get the fuck away from me!"

"All I wanted was to show you how much I love you. Is it really so hard to love me back?! I was everything you wanted, now look at me!"

Those misshapen legs, pointed at the bottom, click on the ground as he edges closer. You stumble over the littered debris, dodging the silk strands. Every step he takes makes your heartbeat quicken. You can feel the sweat running down your back, dripping down your face.

"Look at me! Look at me like you're afraid!"

You don't have to pretend to be afraid of him. Looking into his dark-rimmed eyes sends a wave of nausea through your gut. You're practically choking on your own breath as the panic builds.

Scrambling back, you duck under a curtain of webbed silk, nearly tripping over a broken chair.

"Where do you think you're going? Do you really think you can get away from me now?"

The distance between the two of you is shrinking, enough to make your limbs feel like jelly and your lungs to burn. His eyes never leave you, pinned to your body from under his dark hair.

"Stupid girl. You were mine the moment you came crawling back."

One of his black limbs reaches towards you, snagging on your pants and pulling your legs out from under you. You hit the ground with a grunt, hands scraping against the broken glass. You feel like your breath is getting clogged in your throat, almost hyperventilating.

"Aw, look at that," he drawls. "You're scared now, aren't you? How cute."

A spark of anger still flickers through the fear. You reach into your bag and feel around for the knife. Finally finding it, you unsheathe and point it right at him.

"Oh? Still got some fight left in you?" he quips with a chuckle. "Fine. We can play dirty if you want."

He lunges forward, truly looming over you now, and grabs your ankle. With a yank, he drags you towards him across the floor, the scattered glass and splintery wood cutting into your skin.

You let out a yelp, struggling in his grip.

"Let go of me!"

He clicks his tongue in disappointment.

"I don't think so. You've done enough running."

He keeps dragging you back until you reach the center of the room. Your hand tightens around the blade's handle. With a determined huff, you swing with all the strength you can muster.

He dodges it easily, laughably.

"Come now, babe. Let's not pretend you're getting out of this one. You've already lost the game."

He bats the knife away like it's a feather, sending it flying across the room and out of your reach.

"I'm tired of humoring you. This game of ours is getting old."

You feel the tip of his legs brush against you, resulting in a violent flinch.

"Don't touch me!"

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want to you! You belong to me now!"

You move to shuffle away, but several of his legs pin you down. They're deceptively strong considering how thin they are, keeping you pressed to the floor no matter how hard you thrash and fight.

Jimin leans over your struggling form, looking amused.

"Such a stubborn thing. If you insist that this place is a prison, then I think you need to be restrained a little."

Another flood of nausea ripples through you.

"What?!" you blurt out as he roughly flips you over. He wrenches your arms behind you and you feel a strange material being wrapped around your wrists. It's soft yet oddly strong, and in a matter of moments your arms are tightly secured behind you. He grabs your legs and pins them together.

"Wait! Stop! Stop it!" you plead, desperation growing.

"Oh hush," he scolds. You feel him lean down closer, his mouth almost touching your ear.

"We both know you like being tied up," he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

Your face burns, an unknown feeling blooming in your stomach.

"Fuck you," you try to snap, but it comes out weak and quiet.

His hand grips your face and tilts it up to meet his eyes.

"Watch your mouth before I gag you too," he snaps, setting you with a glare.

Jimin wraps your ankles in the same strange substance, then your knees. Then he bends your legs back and connects your wrists to your ankles so you're trussed up like a prize pig. When you look down at yourself, you realize that you're bound in that same webbed silk.

You continue to squirm and writhe in your bonds, growing in distress until you've exhausted yourself. You're not getting out of this anytime soon.

Helpless and overpowered, you hang your head as the fatigue sets in your limbs.

"Look at that," Jimin says as you're hoisted into the air, hanging from a silken strand like all the other objects in the room.

"Look how calm you are now that you're all wrapped up."

Swinging in the air, you're now at his eye level. But you can't meet his gaze. Your head hangs heavy with failure. The next second, your eyes are burning and welling up, hot tears rolling down your cheeks with no way to hide or wipe them away.

"Aww, poor baby," Jimin coos, patting your cheek. "Cry if you want. Get it out of your system."

And you do. You let the tears flow freely, let the sobs erupt from your chest. Because you've lost. You've lost everything.

Jimin steps closer to you, his face inches from yours, and licks up the wet stream on your cheek.

He lets out a deep sigh, almost a moan.

"Tears of defeat are always sweeter," he whispers.

Bitterness builds up in your throat.

"I hate you," you spit.

"No you don't," Jimin replies calmly. "You think you do, but I know you don't. Just you wait, baby. You're going to love it here."

"No I won't. You're crazy if you think I'll just forget everything you've done."

"You might fight it at first, but not for long," he says as he circles around you, admiring his new plaything.

"You're wrong. I might be trapped here, but I'll never give in."

He meets your glare with a knowing smile.

"Never is almost as long as forever," he says, tilting his head to the side innocently.

"The human spirit can always be broken. With love."

He trails his fingers along your body, along the silk binding you.

"I'll enjoy breaking you. It'll be easy. People aren't meant to fight what feels good."

As if to prove his point, he ghosts his fingers up the back of your neck and massages the growing knot there, and you can't help but melt a little.

"Ah, so many things I want to do to you. And you're going to take all of it."

You try to swallow the lump in your throat as the tears keep falling.

"You'll give in soon enough."

"No," you mutter weakly, sniffling.

"Oh? Not even to save them?"

Muffled cries.

You whip your head up. Against the wall, in the wall, are two writhing bodies. They're pinned underneath the wallpaper, stuck like insects behind glass. You recognize the real Jimin's face even as it twists and strains under the film, as he screams fruitlessly. Next to him, Taehyung's taller form struggles to move his limbs, but to no avail.

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. You shout their names, thrashing with renewed urgency.

"They can't hear you," Jimin says, watching you closely.

Your gaze flickers between the wall and Jimin's smug face, feeling the panic well back up inside you.

"Don't you fucking dare," you hiss with as much venom as possible.

He raises one eyebrow. Taking his sweet time, he slowly saunters over to where the two men are stuck to the wall.

"You should know by now not to tempt me," Jimin replies, raising his metal hand and bringing his sharp fingertips down across the real Jimin's cheek.

Screaming louder now, he squirms desperately as blood stains the wallpaper pressed against his face.

"No! Stop!"

He doesn't respond, digging his needle-like fingers into the real Jimin's side.

"Stop it! Please!"

He cuts cruelly into his chest, into his stomach. Red drips from his metal hands. He keeps looking back at you, almost expectantly.

Fresh tears wet your face as your cries are ignored. The real Jimin can do nothing but writhe as he's cut into again and again.

The next time you meet Jimin's dark, awaiting eyes it clicks. You get it now. It's not an easy pill to swallow, but you get it now.

"Alright! Alright, Jimin! I'm sorry!" you cry out.

His hand freezes a mere inch away from the real Jimin's face.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry..." your voice falls, out of breath.

Turning to look back at you, his eyes spark with some unknown emotion.

You're still struggling to catch your breath, buzzing off the panic.

"That's enough now," you mutter. "You win."

A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Are you done?" he asks with a raise of his eyebrows.

You sag in your bonds, all the fight leaving your body. You're tired. So fucking tired. It's all catching up to you, body and mind heavy with fatigue.

It's an odd relief. To give in.

"Yes. I'm done. I'll...be good."

A smile stretches across his face. His hand falls back down to his side, all interest in the real Jimin lost as he steps towards you.

"I'll do anything you want. Just please let him go." Your voice stutters around a sob.

Something snaps inside you. With one last swell of emotion and adrenaline, the floodgates burst open and let loose all the tears that you have left. Your vision blurs with them as you empty your lungs and let the tension drain from your muscles. Not caring that your face is mess and that you sound pathetic, you let the reality finally sink in.

Jimin strokes your face and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"It's okay, love. It'll be okay," he murmurs, soothing. "I know it's hard, but you'll get used to it. I'll take care of you."

"Please," you squeak out. "Please just let them go. I'll do anything you want. Please, please..."

There's a pause. He continues to wipe your cheeks, contemplating.

"Anything, hm?"

You look up and meet his eyes. His face is content and calm, patiently watching as he gets everything he wants.

You manage to nod your head.

"Beg."

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"What?"

His eyes are full of hunger.

"I told you that you'd beg me to sew the buttons. So go ahead. Beg."

You're numb at this point, so the realization barely stings. It only makes the lump in your throat grow.

The next moment, one of his legs reaches out to snip the strand of silk that you're hanging from. Catching you before you can hit the ground, he loosens the strands binding you so you can move freely again.

"Beg properly, now," he instructs, nodding towards the ground.

You grit your teeth as you sink to your knees, craning your neck to look up at him.

"Please..." you begin in a voice he can't resist. "Please, Jimin. I want you to sew buttons into my heart. Please."

His smile grows with each word, looking like he wants to consume you. In a way, he already has.

"How badly do you want me?"

What you want is for all this to end.

"I want you so fucking bad, Jimin. I want to be yours."

His eyes narrow slightly, cutting deep into you.

"Say it. Say it and mean it," he orders.

You close your eyes and imagine the real Jimin's face. The warm brown eyes, the faint freckles, the acne scars, the crooked glasses. You hear his scratchy morning voice, feel the brush of his hair on your skin.

"I love you, Jimin."

A sharp inhale.

You open your eyes, and the man standing in front of you nearly makes your heart stop.

He's standing there on his own two legs, no monstrous growths or oversized limbs. His skin is bright and healthy, glowing with sun-kissed color and a soft blush. Hair full and downy, it flows with a golden sheen.

But it's his eyes that pierce you. Because they're his eyes. Not dull and lifeless like glass marbles, but the eyes of the man you met years ago. The eyes so wide and full of expression, the eyes that crinkle shut when he laughs. Eyes that can barely contain all the love stored for you.

Jimin blinks, scanning you up and down, drinking you in.

"Kiss me," he whispers.

You close the distance with rapid steps, crashing into him. Warmth, his body radiates with it. His lips press soft and sensual over yours, arms wrapping tight around your body.

He is solid and alive. The only thing left to lean on.

You suppose you should be afraid. Now that the steel table is underneath your back, arms and legs held down with padded straps, most people would be afraid.

But somehow you're not. It might have something to do with the cloudy liquid that Jimin had you drink earlier, saying something about helping you relax.

You were afraid then. You were afraid when he lead you to his workshop and showed you where it would happen.

The space was cluttered with rolls of fabric, hoards of swatches and spools of thread, mannequins of all shapes and sizes. He led you past the cobweb-draped sewing machine, past the large desk that was covered in oddly shaped tools and instruments. 

You were afraid when you saw Taehyung already spread out on the table. Sedated, secured just like you are now, he looked peaceful there.

You remember struggling to contain the contents of your stomach when Jimin made the first incision. You forced yourself to watch, to make sure he delivered his promise. You watched as the two bloody buttons dropped into the silver tray with a clink. You watched Jimin stitch up the wound, clean it and dress it.

Then you watched as he slid the black key into the dusty lock hole. The little door, looking as if it hadn't been touched in decades, swung open to reveal the cobweb-lined tunnel. He laid the two men's unconscious bodies few feet inside, then closed the door and locked it for the last time.

You watched through the keyhole as they stirred. Jimin awoke first, frantic and confused. He tried to shake Taehyung awake, but he was still drugged. Slowly yet desperately, he dragged him through the tunnel until they disappeared through the other side.

You were afraid then, but not now. Jimin told you over and over again that you wouldn't feel a thing. He had the two buttons picked out and waiting there, next to the spool of black thread and a clean needle.

He assured you that it wouldn't hurt. You'd wake up foggy and be sore for a few days, but other than that there was nothing to worry about.

He said that the hardest part was behind you now, that only good things were ahead.

The last thing you remember after he put the mask over your nose, other than the smell of vanilla, is hearing him singing softly. The same song you'd heard him sing before.

Just let me love you.

~~~

a/n: 👉👈. thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed the story I would be so extremely grateful if you shared your thoughts!! :) 

#yandere jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin #yandere bts #bts fanfction #coraline!au #jimin x female reader #yandere au #bts fanfic #bts angst

[newkatzkafe2023]

Okay, so since we have been talking, I really want to see the next part in the Coraline au continuation. If that's okay, (particularly HIB and MK reborn, lol.) no pressure, you said you liked requests but i just want to be considerate still.

Part 3 of Beldam (Y/N)🥳

(Lmk Wukong) His jaw was still touching the floor when he saw you. He observed the black monkey who was wearing a Sundress and some cute sandals. But unfortunately the despite all that he was still staring at her pair of yellow buttons That is in place of her eyes.

(Lmk Wukong): W-Who Are you?!?!😰

Monkey (Y/N): I'm sorry I must have frightened you. I tend to do that , but I'm your wife (Y/N)

(Lmk Wukong) Okay first of all I don't have a wife and second of all even if I did I doubt she would have B.....B......

Monkey (Y/N)B....B...B..Buttons??? Do you like them they're in my favorite color now dinner is Almost Ready is so can you please drop off this package next door to Pigsy and Tang They're not too far from here😊

Wukong to the box and silently left. What the hell is going on around here and Bixby and Tang right here? Maybe don't know what's happening

When Wukong got to the Restaurant he walked in to see pigsy and Tang sitting by a Piano.

Lmk Wukong: Hey you too (Y/N) Who told me to drop this off for you guys

It's when they both turn around to show their button eyes Wukong Own eye twitched Wondering if he really is going insane

Other Pigsy: Oh good you have it

Other Tang: (Y/N) It's truly the best not that we have it we can play the piano now

(Lmk Wukong) Nither of you know how to play a piano

Both: Well of course we can't we have to play it together watch Make up an song about Sun wukong, He's a King, He's a Hero, He can do no Wrong, He's as noble as Budda in the eyes of everyone who ever lay their eyes on Sun Wukong. When he comes around Adventuring (Y/N) Vow to make it beholding on eye on Sun Wukong🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎵🎶

Monkey king actually like the song. He heard before he wave goodbye to the two and return to your home where she was surprised with all types of noodles and peach chips.

Monkey (Y/N) Surprise hope you like it

And Wukong did After you told him you were waiting for him for quite a long time. He then started to feel really tired. Especially from the day he had looking for those missing men with Mk.

Monkey (Y/N) You look tired let's get you to bed now

(Y/N) Then led him to a bedroom where all of his collection over the years was much more neither than before after you gave Cherry's juice to help him get some sleep.

Monkey (Y/N) Good night my king I had a lot of fun tonight💛

(Mk Reborn Wukong) This is bizarre on so many levels. First of all he was not expecting to walk into a mirror. Second of all he was also not expecting that said mirror To cause and tomet up with a female monkey. Third of all He didn't expect the female monkey to be just as snarky is him

(MKR Wukong) What are you talking about and what happened to your eyes? Why I do that you have??

Monkey (Y/N): Buttons nice to know you noticed you you're not put off by it are you???

(MKR Wukong) N-No just want is the story of that?!?!

Monkey (Y/n) Hehe🤭 I'll explain the story of that later , but i'm gonna need you To drop off a package to pigsy For me please then come back when dinner is ready

Wukong takes the box 📦 from you and walked of he was trying to still rap his head around in everything. There's a female monkey who Just said she was waiting for him and now she's sending him off. To do a quick favor like he should be full of questions right now. And another thing pigz is here he knew about This place maybe he's gonna know what's going on. Though he doubts it, but he's his best chance of understanding. What the hell any of this is. When he got their he found pigsy Alright But he too had button eyes

Other Pigsy: Welcome my king

Finally some respect this is something he can get used to

Mk Wukong: (Y/N) Wanted me to give this package to you

Other Pigsy: Oh good she's the best now I can work on my piano

Mk Wukong: What you don't play Piano

Other Pigsy: Well of course I don't the piano plays me Watch this. Make up an song about Sun wukong, He's a King, He's a Hero, He can do no Wrong, He's as noble as Budda in the eyes of everyone who ever lay their eyes on Sun Wukong. When he comes around Adventuring (Y/N) Vow to make it beholding on eye on Sun Wukong🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎵🎶

Monkey king Clapped his hands liking what he was hearing After talking Wukong Wave goodbye To the other pigs and left back home to you What do you smell a lot of food.

Wukong Soon fell in himself challing down some vegetable fried rice and Other foods their was noodles and soup Dumplings too.

Monkey (Y/N) I hope you like it. I have other stuff. You wanna try if you're hungry still

(MKR Wukong) No man this is great but I am thirsty

Monkey (Y/N) All right say it less I got peach tea

Wukong Drank the tea before (Y/N) You put a cake in front of him saying welcome home

Monkey (Y/N) I've been waiting A long time for your Sun Wukong. I really hope you enjoy your stay here With me here. You can have anything you want Just as that's all you have to do.

Wukong Smiled At you but he suddenly felt tired i'm all of the food he had

Mk Wukong: (Y/N) Thanks, but I'm really need to get to bed. Masters gonna come looking for me

Monkey (Y/N) Of course that is very important let's get you a bed

(Y/n) Lead The monkey king to less mess version of his room Everything was organized from top to bottom. And that's when she brought him to bed not before him some cherry juice to help fall asleep

Monkey (Y/N) Good night🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎵🎶🎵

(NR Wukong) He just stood there, He stood in silence. All he did was stare into what? But what have been your eyes if it wasn't further bright Pink buttons. He had absolutely no idea What else to say. The dude was for once Speechless

Monkey (Y/N) Handsome? Earth to handsome? Are you okay hubby? you look like you saw ghosts you're not sick are you?

Wukong Was able to snap out of it a little but

(NR Wukong) Um yeah??? Is there a story about your Bu.............Bu...........

Monkey (Y/N) Oh my buttons do you like them I always thought they were neat No I enough those chit chat foods getting cold but I do need you to do me a quick favor??? Can you please take this package to Su She's not too far from here so just drop it off at her house.

(NR Wukong) No problem I guess

Monkey (Y/N) Thank you baby

Wukong Walked out of the house In silence and confusion what is Li's girlfriend doing here and why is she living so close Maybe he really showed to get out More He got to the big expensive looking house. He walked in inside to see Su with her own pair of buttons when the middle of the living room playing a piano

Other Su: Wukong good to see you. Oh Good, she sent the package over as a thing. I wrote a song for you

Other Su: Making up a song about Wukong🎵 He's a King , He's a Hero, He can do no wrong🎶 He's as noble as Budda in the eyes of everyone who ever lay their eyes on Sun Wukong. When he comes around Adventuring (Y/N) Vow to make it beholding on eye on Sun Wukong🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎵🎶

Nezha Actually enjoyed the song he heard and we've Goodbye to the other sill. That's where he returned back to home where he smelled a lot of food

Monkey (Y/N) So how do you like the soup dumplings they took me hours.

(NR Wukong) I love what you did but i'm kind of thirsty though

Monkey (Y/N) No problem, I have variety types of wine and alcohol. You know but if you feel like relaxing relaxing then I have tea as well. I also made brownies I hope you like them

Wukong ate one of your brownies with he started to feel Like he was on the elevator that was going up and down at the same time.

Monkey (Y/N) Probably should have mentioned that it was an edible. We better bring you the bed so that thing can wear off

(Y/N) Then brought the monkey king to retro bed And talk them in bernard before giving him some cherry juice To help.

(Y/N) Sweet dreams Handsome🩷

(HIB Wukong) He stood there in silence just looking at you like what is going on. Did he just walk into the sunken place or something. He has so many questions right now. But and fear of being rude towards you. I mean maybe you'll even notice but he'll just like be subtle with the question

(HIB) I'm terribly sorry but who are you and what happens here eyes????????

Monkey (Y/N) Oh Curious about my button Eyes they're so cute aren't they they're my favorite Color too. Do you like them??? I think they are wonderful.

(HIB) Still sorry for barging into your house. I didn't mean to I just found Strange tunnel and

Monkey (Y/N) Oh my sweet king, you don't have to apologize to me. In fact, I welcome you. Dinner is almost ready but I need you to do me a small favor. Can you please deliver this package to pigsy He lives next door can't miss him

Wukong then received The package from you before being pushed out gently. And he found himself walking down the street and auto pilot. He had so many questions and his main one is Pigsy actually here??? maybe he'll know what's going on because I am majorly perplex Wukong got to the house he saw tapping on a Piano.

(HIB) Pigsy????

Other Pigsy: Good evening your majesty!!!!

Wukong Frozen to see pigsy With button eyes?!

Other Pigsy: Oh good you have the package (Y/N) Truly is the best. Well to show you my gratitude I wrote you a song on my piano.

(HIB) When have you ever played the Piano

Other Pigsy: Just now, Here let me show you. Make up an song about Sun wukong, He's a King, He's a Hero, He can do no Wrong, He's as noble as Budda in the eyes of everyone who ever lay their eyes on Sun Wukong. When he comes around Adventuring (Y/N) Vow to make it beholding on eye on Sun Wukong🎵🎶🎵🎶

Monkey king Loved the song he heard After talking to the other pigzy, for a little bit, he returned home to you and he smelled fish as soon as he got there. Lots and lots of fish. I'm Not kidding from Deep fried fish to Fish soup And you had fried rice And soup dumplings with noodles.

Monkey (Y/N) Poor you, you must have been so hungry. I know I should cook the more i'm so inconsiderate

(HIB) No no I love all of this it's just i'm thirsty now

Monkey (Y/N) Oh you should have started with that come I have tea Green tea, oolong tea, And if you're feeling romantic red wine.

(HIB) Do you have Roasted Oolong tea

Monkey (Y/N) Yes sir

(Y/N) pour a cup of tea for Wukong before putting a Cake That said welcome home

(Y/n) I was waiting for you for so Wukong You have no idea how lonely I was but The waiting was worth it because I have you here now

Sun Wukong Add felt something as felt in a long time joy. This female monkey had worked very hard to impress him and make him happy and welcome him. Even though he basically broke an entered into her home , she didn't minded all and welcomed him with open arms.

Monkey (Y/N) It's getting late my king we should get you to bed we don't want You will to be all grumpy in the morning coming out

Wukong The rolled his eyes and followed you to the bedroom A bedroom he always dreamed of mind you after he drank the Cherry juice you gave him he fell right to sleep but not before he heard

Monkey (Y/N) See you soon🧡

(Netflix Wukong) This dude Went out like a light. Yeah it was quite embarrassing but can you blame him. He thought he walked into the home of another only to meet up with a female monkey Bright red button eyes. And his Is constitution can't take that You decided it was the best decision to lay him out on the couch until he wakes up.

Monkey (Y/N) Honey? honey? Woo hoo honey? Are you feeling better now?

Wukong After a little While Manage to regain consciousness.

(Netflix Wukong) Lin??? You never guess what happened I just had the crazy dream. I dreamt that I went through a door and it led me to pretty female monkey with button........

Sun Wukong has look to see the same female monkey He had met earlier with bright red Button eyes.

(Netflix Wukong) Eyes............ So it wasn't a dream after all......... And i'm possibly insane.

You Couldn't help but burst out laughing at the cute monkey boy in the front of you. He is such a silly little Guy isn't he?

Monkey (Y/N) Hehe, Nope, not a dream, Did you want it to be a dream? Well, now that you're okay, you can get ready for dinner. I need you to Do me a favor I need you to prefer this package to buddha pretty please, then you can come back down for dinner. Thank you

Wukong's Jaw dropped When he heard what you were asking of him , then you would quickly send them off before he can ask any questions When he got outside, he looked up nervously. And it's right , and so what appeared to be A run down shack of some kind. When he knocked on the door he saw border in the middle tapping on a piano

Other Buddha: Welcome!!!! (Y/N) Told me you were stopping by she said that you have the package for me. Stay for a bit I was actually playing on my piano

(Netflix Wukong) Budda don't play on a piano

Other Buddha: Well of course I don't the piano plays me

Other Buddha: Make up an song about Sun wukong, He's a King, He's a Hero, He can do no Wrong, He's as noble as I in the eyes of everyone who ever lay their eyes on Sun Wukong. When he comes around Adventuring (Y/N) Vow to make it beholding on eye on Sun Wukong🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎵🎶

Wukong is smug As all hell, when he heard that song Buddha would never sing Something like that to him but he's glad that his (Y/N)forced too. He said his goodbyes to buddha before returning to the house where he smelled Something incredible. He walked inside to see (Y/N) Made a whole table of peach flavored suites From putting to pie 🥧,Wukong Chill down with no problem at all.

Monkey (Y/N) Jeez Wukong you are really hungry huh🤭 Would you like anything to drink buddy

Netflix Wukong: Do you got a peach smoothie

Monkey (Y/N) Yes I do and i'm going to get some too

(Y/n) Pour the peach smoothie and put a cake In front of the monkey king The takes said welcome home

Monkey (Y/N) I was waiting a very long time for you. But now you are here and I am happy again

Wukong Blushed at the female monkeys words wondering what she meant. But he grew tired.

(Netflix Wukong) (Y/N) I really should be Getting to bed now

Monkey (Y/N) It's fine dear let's get you to bed

(Y/N) Then brought wu kong to a child like bedroom and got him ready to sleep , not before Giving him cherry juice saying that'll help him relax and ward off nightmares

Monkey (Y/N) I'll see you so and baby boy

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #coraline au #x yandere reader #x wife reader

[angelofthenight]

Yandere Dano!Riddler: you know that I love you.

You: you have a really funny way of showing it.

#source: coraline #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton imagine #yandere edward nashton #incorrect quotes #reader insert #the batman 2022 #the batman #paul dano riddler #paul dano #dano!riddler #yandere riddler x reader #yandere riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler

[roseytheteacup]

can you do platonic yandere kiritodobakudeku coraline au? If headcanons would be ok if this was going to take too long

(For specific reasons I will do headcanons as of this concept due to it is going to be one of related stories on my wattpad and quotev it's a long multipart ending that's been in planning)

Mind you characters are aged up for this story since they are supposed to be like father kind of figures)

Deku

Deku is going to be like the mom who bakes cookies for you and your friends

the moment he first meets you he sees you as a small baby (even though you could be 5'11 like me ~~' and he still think you a tiny baby

he would show you around the garden and house seeing as you 'original' parents wouldn't allow you to have a garden and yelled at you the moment you left your room or breathed the wrong way

he thinks you look adorable staring at his fluffy hair

he has to save you from bakugou sometimes because boom boom boy wants you to take naps constantly(this is referring to people who have insomnia or narcolepsy or people who don't have a great time sleeping)

but when you try to leave he tries to...(hehe no spoilers)

Bakugo

this giant hedgehog the moment he meets you he teases you about looking like a raccoon from the bags under your eyes

but once he realizes why he keeps trying to get you to take naps or get a decent sleep schedule

but you being a little bat or trash panda stay up drawing,listening to music,or just doing random stuff

so he tries to give you treats that make you tired

but every time dang deku yanks you away

so he devises something( ^w^ hehe no spoilers still)

Todoroki

the moment todoroki meets you he's just in awe

your nature makes him want to protect you

so he shows you around the house and your other room

while your in awe he notices how you dress

by means he is criticizing your style but he notices they either seem to be old and mean like holes and dryer burnt old

so he makes you some new clothes even though they're a bit more pastely than you prefer

Kirishima

this guy just picks you up and hugs you the moment he meets you

if your touched starved or feel awkward about touch then you either become a pro at hiding or your getting kiri cuddles

this himbo just likes to show you all the shinies or stuff you may like

he thinks its adorable when bakugo calls you a racoon because you kinda are

he likes to put your hair in little braids or put hair clips in them( for my long hair and short hair teacups and coffee cups)

when he hears you listen to your music let's say he becomes concern also concern with your eating habits

so once he finds about your house lets say ...

#coraline au #bnha #kiritodobakudeku #platonic yandere bnha #yandere todoro #yandere bakugou #yandere kirishima #yandere deku #yandere katsuki #yandere shoto x reader #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere izuku #yandere eijiro kirishima #yandere izuku midoriya

[d3sperate-enuf]

𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

Elliot?(original character) x reader

Elias (original character) x reader

Introduction

Chapter 1

Note; @shiny-jr I love you and your writing and that story that you made on Quotev inspired me to write this. I hope you don't mind if the first part of my chapter 1 is directly inspired by you.

He loves you, he's obsessed but do you return that feeling?

"Darling I would rip my heart out for you and gift it to you if you just asked."

"Go choke on a needle."

Here's a playlist for this abomination

Elliot

Elias

(Name) You!

_Each character has 10 songs in the order which I just listed_

_Yes I appreciate it if you could reblog this_

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #original character #original character x reader #coraline #yandere oc #x reader #Spotify

[ataraxiaspainting]

Icarus.

Yan (Emperor) Zhongli x F Reader.

Synopsis: You were taught ever since you opened your eyes to never go against your god. So why do you wish now that you have never opened them at all?

Warnings: Yandere themes, major power imbalances, manipulation, future forced marriage, some violence/gore, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 3k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Little Dark Age by MGMT

As the World Caves In by Matt Maltese

The Other Side Of Paradise by Glass Animals

All Eyes On Me by Bo Burnham

Space Song by Beach House

Murders by Miracle Musical

Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives

Teacher’s Pet by Melanie Martinez

A Pearl by Mitski

Isabella’s Lullaby by Takahiro Obata

*~*~*~*

“‘You know that I love you.’ And despite herself, Coraline nodded. It was true. The other mother loved her. But she loved Coraline as a miser loves money, or a dragon loves its gold. In the other mother's button eyes, Coraline knew that the other mother loved her as a possession, nothing more, a tolerated pet whose behavior was no longer amusing.” – Neil Gaiman, Coraline

*~*~*~*

There is no sin greater than to be a bird.

To be a bird is to be devoid of all burdens, soaring above all who are shackled by them, like a warden overseeing prisoners, or the sweetest and ripest peaches up on the highest of branches so no one can reach it. They can go anywhere, birds, with the winds at their call, the very embodiment of freedom itself, something your god has taught all his people to be wary of. Freedom can be a blessing, he told one of his counselors once, but it can also cause humans to be too conceited. There is no sin greater than to be a bird because all others will be envious. Envy is also a sin, one so common that even Archons are said to possess it. Sin gives birth to more sin, more suffering, and thus only the original that birthed it all shall be punished by Celestia’s fury. 

There is no greater sin than to be a bird, so the gods put in place cages, made to make those trapped by gold and chains and other things entirely. Birds who are not lured into such traps are dealt with by lightning, making them fall back down to the ground below, the last thing they see is the very sky that punished them. The sky, the stars, the moon, the sun… the entire world will be against you when you are a bird.

It will be that way until you die. The world hates birds and the way they fly and soar. Birds are meant for cages, or to be struck down with their corpses made into trophies.

There is no title greater than to be a hunter.

The sin; to be a bird, freedom… the title; to be a hunter, despotism.

To shoot, to stab, to twist until the prey bursts, is the way of someone whose greatest sin is doing good for this world.

To bleed, to be trapped, to be killed and put on display for all to see, that is what a bird’s purpose truly is, in the eyes of the divine.

They are different, quite so, like different ripples in lakes of mixed blood and water.

You can almost hear them, can’t you?

Celestia favors the strong. Celestia despises the weak. It makes sense to most people, those who were born into power be it money made from blood or strength made from blood. They don’t see the way the world works. The way flies feast upon rotting meat and are soon to be eaten by something bigger. It makes sense for most people, but not for you. Despite everything you have ever been taught from word of mouth, life on the streets teaches you otherwise. For everything you have endured, you have learned that you are not weak. In any case, quite the opposite.

You don’t pray anymore with everyone else, as they keep reciting such things over and over again at the states positioned throughout Liyue as if the emperor would listen to them. 

“O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!” They would hold hands with their bodies being placed in circles around the sculptures. They close their eyes altogether, to not see the sacrifices trapped between them at the monuments, the last thing they see is the Lord of Geo’s face, looking down at them with a stone-cold glare laced with eerie delight. “O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all! O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!”

To be praying and to be preying are two quite different things, but to the people of Liyue, there is no difference. Blood seeps into the earth all the same, regardless of who sheds it. So, as evidence that the people of Liyue do indeed bow down to Celestia’s every whim, they bring birds of all kinds and steal them of all they have. Their feathers make for excellent clothing, their bones make for stellar weaponry, and their feet make for charms of good luck. Celestia only smiles down upon the strong, after all. Celestia despises freedom because, without the divine, humans would have nothing to leash them onto rationality and laws. Perhaps that is why Mondstadt is very much in chaos now. Their god was said to have betrayed Celestia by giving his people forbidden knowledge of how nature originally ran its course, causing an uproar among the citizens. 

No one knows what happened to the god of Mondstadt after that.

Was he smitten down? Did his people turn on him? No one in Liyue knows for certain, as people of Mondstadt are forbidden from entering the land said to be made up of the purest of gold.

“O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!”

That is the first thing you hear when you wake up, huddled in a corner to prevent yourself from getting even more wet from the rain. You assume that maybe it will be the last thing you hear when you close your eyes for good.

*~*~*~*

You grew up in Qiaoying Village and, once you grew up, got exiled from Qiaoying Village. You stood out, which no one saw in a good light. You were a mischievous, rule-breaking child, always stealing Jadevein Tea Eggs and both tea and tea sets made of fine porcelain. Your older brother taught you lessons far too valuable and unique for the traditionalist settings of Qiaoying Village, lessons like how to pick the elderly’s door’s locks, how to properly identify which pockets had the most Mora, and how to make alleyways a labyrinth for those who chase you.

Your older brother, though, did not partake in thievery himself. You suppose that might have been the first warning sign of many more to come. He made you, a child about half his age, do his dirty work for him. He always hoarded the rewards afterward, and if you got caught or he got caught with whatever treasure you had given him, he would pretend to scold you for going against the way of the Qiaoying. He said it was just pretend, but that look in his eyes still haunts you to this very day. As you got older, though, you got dumber. You crossed a line with everyone. You decided to steal from a Fontainian duke.

It was a foolish decision. Fontainians are known for their high sense of justice, and their tunnel vision when it comes to crimes and punishments. But you were just a child, were you not?

You couldn’t help it. You were just a child. That is what you told yourself then, and it is what you tell yourself now.

No one helped you then, and no one helps you now. Hell, it would be a miracle, a blessing from Celestia, if your older brother came to Liyue Harbor to visit you. But he never loved you, did he? He never loved you, and you never hated him until you saw him for what he truly is. A petty servant of Madam Mei with a spine thinner than that of a twig. He was a coward then, and likely still a coward now. Perhaps it would have been noble of him, while you were still an infant, to use that pocket knife he always carried around. It would have been better for you, for you to not know anything you know about him now. 

But he was a coward, your older brother. The person who taught you everything about thievery is also now the person who taught you how important it is to keep your cards close. Life on the streets calls for both, you suppose. Liyue Harbor may not be the friendliest for the homeless, but at the very least it had pockets to swipe into when no one was looking. Old habits die hard. You ended up relying on every memory of the past, no matter how bitter or how deceivingly sweet they were. You bore it. You bore it all. Every memory, every fragment of a lie, and every fragment of a half-truth. Life is never so simple after all, is it?

Your life was never perfect, and therefore still is not now. But you know deep in your heart that you would prefer this life over seeing your older brother’s face ever again.

But now, with eyes brighter than amber staring above you as you lay, your arm broken, you wish that your brother had taught you some fighting skills instead of everything else he taught you.

But he was a coward, and so are you.

To be fair, though, he never met the emperor and never thought that he would. So did you. No one in Qiaoying Village did, most likely. It was so far from the proclaimed harbor made of gold and trader’s blood and prayers. This was where the emperor lived, in his castle in the mountains surrounding Lingju Pass and Mount Tianheng. It was made up of the finest gold and wood and jewels. Only the best for the emperor, while people like you get mere pebbles. That is why, when you saw yet another stranger in a white cloak roaming around the alleyways, you attempted to strike. Your mistake.

Your mistake.

You were on the ground in an instant, your arm breaking so loudly an elderly man on his deathbed could hear it. 

The stranger’s eyes glittered like gold.

Frozen gold, perhaps, with how he was staring down at you with such disappointment.

So, he stared down at you.

You stared down at your arm.

You should have known better. But you are just someone trying to live, are you not? It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. But that white cloak the man is wearing with the sigil of geo on the back, one of the few symbols of the emperor himself, should have made you not attempt to pickpocket him. You should have known better. You really should have known better. Should you apologize? You are already as good as dead though, aren’t you?

Does a death sentence await you?

Life? Death? Prison? Life. Death. Prison.

Escape.

You have to escape.

But the emperor seems to know what you are doing, what you are planning.

So he stops you with a simple hand raised, and pillars of geo appear out of nowhere, trapping you in the corner. Now there is nowhere to run.

He stares down at you.

You stare down at your feet, all mangled up from a life made of thievery and poverty.

He doesn’t speak. Neither do you. You prefer it that way.

You are in a cage. But he is not.

Please.

Please don’t kill me. 

Please.

*~*~*~*

Is it a sin to indulge? Perhaps it is, perhaps it is not. Perhaps it depends. Is the indulgence centered in reality or fantasy? This escape attempt, perhaps, is both.

Like the many that came before it, the only sounds you can hear is the rain, the water falling from the glass windows like teardrops, and sometimes you can swear you hear the sound of someone weeping. Despite everything you have gone through though, you do not weep with them, whoever they are. You only keep stepping on ahead for a brighter future, one where you sneak off to Sumeru, a land that prioritizes knowledge over riches. You’d have a better life there than here, you think. Anywhere but here you would run off to actually, even if it was Snezhnaya. 

You are treated well, too well.

You still don’t know why instead of throwing you in the dungeons, Morax placed your unconscious body in one of the many, many guest rooms that were spread about in his castle.

You are treated far too well, almost to the point that it is maddening. Everything is so perfect, from the morning birds outside your window that wake you up every morning when it just so happens to be time for breakfast to the hairbrush you use to put your hair up when it is time to sleep, the design intricately laced with jade and topaz. Perfect, perfect, perfect. It’s maddening, sickening, how perfect everything is. You wish he had just put you in a cell because at least then everything would not have been so planned out for you, even the type of flowers you saw in the gardens that week. 

“Damn it all…”

In your opinion, the clothes you received today were more intricate than usual. The sleeves are puffed and transition from white to a deep teal color. The dress itself showcases delicate lace patterns of glaze lilies around the waist and wrists, while the skirt is impractically long for any running. Strangely, the inside of the skirt features a constellation pattern, though it seems to be a design meant for your eyes alone. The purpose of this starry sky motif remains unclear. The dress, like everything else, appears flawless and fits you perfectly, almost as if it was tailored specifically for you. Given Morax's wealth, you can't help but entertain the possibility. However, the overwhelming perfection of it all borders on madness. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect, so damn perfect. 

Today, you were not given shoes, presumably due to the rain and the consequent cancellation of your garden visit with Morax, where you typically indulge in tea and wine. As you approached the staircase leading to the dining room, however, the guards obstructed your path. Their actions were gentle, but their words were not. They formed a human barricade, preventing your descent. One guard clicked their tongue disapprovingly, while the other remained silent. Perhaps they harbored some disdain towards you. The servants in this establishment either treated you with utmost care or completely disregarded your presence, so it was not entirely surprising that the guards displayed a semblance of dislike.

The real surprise was you not being allowed to go to the dining room to eat.

“The emperor wants you to stay in your room for the time being. He shall see you shortly there.”

So, you went back, albeit muttering curses along the way. Due to your lack of shoes and the guards not even allowing you to go downstairs, this escape attempt is as short-lived as a moth flying much too close to a flame.

As you were told, Morax came in his usual attire, black and brown robes with a geo sigil on the back. 

“...”

“I have been told that you have been getting a bit too curious with your wandering.”

Ah, straight to the point, it would seem. 

There is no point trying to beat around the bush when it comes to Morax. “It is not like there is anything else to do here.”

He sits beside you on the bed, not too close but not too far either. A perfect balance. “I can give you other activities to do if you would like. I can also answer some questions you have since you’ll be living here from now on.”

“...This isn’t temporary…” You look down at the arm he broke, a time which feels like a millennium ago. “Am I being charged?” Your question is quietly said. “Aren’t thieves simply sent to cells for a few moons?”

His chuckle was unexpected, causing a slight surprise. Morax, who was typically expressionless, wore a smile on his face. Despite the possibly good intentions behind it, the sight and sound were unsettling and made your skin crawl.

“...You don’t tell me anything.” You whisper under your breath. That much is clear. Despite Morax's little attempts to conceal it, his secrecy is unmistakable. You can't help but feel like a naive child stating the obvious.

“You are here for multiple reasons. For instance… you remind me of someone. As such, you must have questions, if you are anything like her.” His eyes glaze over you, from the top of your head where your hair is half put up with a hairpin to the anklet just hovering over your right foot. “All humans are born with an innate sense to pry. I won’t judge, as I am an Archon.” Are his words heartfelt? “Through my veins flow gold, but yours flow with sanguine, life, and desires.” 

His hand reaches forward, but he does not touch you. “You must see yourself as better than us because of this. Am I correct?”

“My feelings are not as monochrome as they seem to you. They are complex, quite so. But you are right, in some regard.”

“This is why I cannot stand the so-called divine.”

“Another reason as to why you are here. You are a sleeper of such, and I intend to help you open your eyes to the truth.”

You look at his eyes, seeing all the horrors within their depths.

The emperor known as Morax possesses eyes of pure gold, along with attractive features and pale, rosy lips that curl into a sickly sweet smile. Your body instinctively reacts, urging you to flee before your mind can fully comprehend the situation. However, your brain, awakening and analyzing the situation, is interrupted by the overpowering force of instinct, echoing the same warning as your body: the charming smile is a mere facade, reminiscent of something unsettlingly artificial. It is akin to a sculpture with painted skin and eyes or a doll with exaggerated, intricate features. This man, with his literal golden eyes, his potentially persuasive words, and his captivating yet unnerving countenance, is someone you cannot trust.

Desperate to escape, you attempt to run, only to find that arms and hands, seemingly made of stone, emerge from the walls, gripping and restraining your own. Two of these strong hands ascend, slithering towards the center of your back, forcefully pushing you down into a bow, while you remain compelled to gaze upwards. Your focus remains fixated solely on the emperor's eyes, observing the eloquent patterns of gold within them.

The caress of their touch is tender upon your cheeks, unlike solid ones that demand for you to stay.

“You shall become my consort and see the gates of Celestia for yourself. Humans are made to worship, after all. The divine are made to simply awaken those who have strayed off the path of destiny.”

*~*~*~*

To possess the gift of sight, encompassing all, is the gravest transgression one can commit. Thus, those winged creatures who lack this awareness are banished to the depths of the earth, their vision, their literal eyes stripped away until their cries reverberate to the surface, where the emperor Morax shall pronounce the ultimate verdict.

#yandere #yandere x reader #author aya #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #morax x reader #yandere morax #yandere morax x reader

[suiana]

Speaking of Coraline, I thought about other lover in the process, your lover doesn't treat you as well as they do and other lover had been waiting for a chance to get you to their side (literally) they wouldn't resort to a similar method of other mother in Coraline like locking reader up, but rather manipulating them into thinking readers lover is a manipulator when really, nothing was really wrong in the situation. Read the first line carefully, your lover doesn't treat you as well as they do

omg are u ok with me making this into a yandere oc?1?

✎ yandere! other boyfriend headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, possessives, manipulation etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! other boyfriend whom you first met when you crawled through that tiny door at the top of your attic in the new house you and your original boyfriend bought together.

✎ yandere! other boyfriend who has been waiting for you since he was created. watching you through the eyes of your old doll that you've kept since young. he's practically your childhood friend at this point! except it's completely one sided.

✎ yandere! other boyfriend who knows of your sad relationship with your original boyfriend. what a sad relationship! so boring, an extreme lack of love and romance :( worry not, he can provide that to you <3

✎ yandere! other boyfriend who is extremely obsessive and possesive over you. he just can't help it though! you're so divine, so perfect ♡ he'd be a fool of a man to not worship you. throwing shade to your original bf now LOL.

✎ yandere! other boyfriend who feeds you lies and deceives you. you can't help but fall for them, he's too convincing! his words- they're not forced, they're just so natural that they sound like the truth! you just couldn't help but believe that your other boyfriend never really loved you :(

✎ yandere! other boyfriend who always throws a tantrum whenever you tell him you're leaving to go back to your original world. what do you even have there anyways?! clearly not him! so stay! just stay!

✎ yandere! other boyfriend who always has to hide his murderous tendencies and his monstrous side. he can't ruin everything he built up with you. he doesn't like doing things the hard way, you know? you're going to stay with him, whether you like it or not. you never had a choice.

✎ yandere! other boyfriend who smiles happily as you come running back into his arms after your original boyfriend screamed at you when you returned. see darling? what did he say? he's always right, so be a good sweetheart and stay with him forever. he can and will take care of you. don't worry your pretty head <3 just stay with him. that's all he asks for.

✎ "so stay with me, my dear. I can treat you better than he ever can, than he ever will."

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere blog #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere other boyfriend #yandere other boyfriend x reader #yandere other boyfriend headcanons

[silveryclear]

STNAF Coraline AU ch.5

MDNI ALL CONTENT REGARDING STNAF IS 18+ AND SO IS THIS BLOG

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

CW: Sexual Content, Knife play (with scissors), Dry Humping, Thigh Ridding, Reader wears lingerie but gender is not specified, Nipple Worship, Penetration, Fingering, Versatile, Soft/Rough Sex, Creampie

A/N: I severely underestimated just how long the sex scene ended up being (I don’t think any of you are complaining lmao) so consider this the precursor— chapter 5.1, if you will~

Chapter 5

You make your way into the same bedroom you just left behind. But you knew it was different, you could sense that this was the same place you thought you could only see in your dreams.

Your mind could barely make sense of this, too distraught to focus on the implications of this world as you call out to the person you know that will comfort you.

Other Friend almost immediately appears, making his way to you. His eyebrows furrow, button eyes gazing at your disheveled state on the floor. You feel Other Friend’s strong arms embrace your body, picking you up and placing you on the bed as he sits by your side.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Other Friend’s sweet voice lulled you into a sense of comfort you so desperately needed.

You slowly raise your head, your teary eyes gazing into his concerned button ones. “H-He… He didn’t come…” You hiccup, wiping your tears. “He p-promised he would! Why didn’t he come?!”

“Shhh… I’m so sorry, baby… You don’t deserve this.” Other Friend’s arms embrace you once again as you sob into his chest.

You let yourself be comforted by your Other Friend, clinging onto him tightly as he cradled you on the bed. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear. However, words aren’t enough to relieve the pain of your broken heart. You wanted to feel loved. You needed it— craved it at this exact moment.

“Friend… I need you.” You whimper softly, clutching his shirt tightly.

“I’m right here baby…” He coos softly, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Nooo…” You whine and press your body against his, making him blush and raise his eyebrows in surprise. “I need you.”

Other Friend tenses once it dawns on him. Your desperate and disheveled state igniting a part of him that he worked hard to conceal from you. He swallows, his expression darkening as his lust awakens.

In your current disarrayed mind, it made absolute sense to press your lips against Other Friend’s ones, to push him onto his back as you straddle his hips, kissing him feverishly. Other Friend has barely any time to the situation, only to act on instinct as this was the thing he’s been craving for the most ever since you set foot into his domain. You may not be kissing him for the right reasons, but in his eyes, you are exactly where you were always meant to be.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He groans into your lips, biting your lower lip and pulling away softly just to grip you by your waist and press you closer, wanting to feel your body. “you’re going to be the death of me…” He murmurs, his words ringing true in your ears. He claims your lips once again.

He kissed you with passion and fervor, your warm breaths mixing with each other as well as the soft moans and grunts you both let out as your bodies grind in need of friction.

Out of nowhere, Other Friend pulls out a pair of sharp scissors and makes large cuts along your clothing, startling you momentarily. He only grins at your slightly frightened state and pecks your lips as he continues to discard the the pieces of cloth. “You’re not going to be needing this…” He whispers, the cool steel tip of the scissors lightly grazing your skin, making you shiver in fear and arousal.

You are left in your underwear and you blush with embarrassment at the pieces you were wearing. Other Friend remains silent for a few seconds, taking in the intricate designs and details and how they make every curve, bump and roll appear even more delectable. His breathing grows ragged, his button eyes darkening as a sense of jealousy comes over him, but quickly disappears as he remembers that you are begging him to make you feel good, not his doppelgänger.

“These, however, are too pretty to destroy~” He whispers against the skin of your shoulder as he trails hot, wet kisses down your chest. He licks your nipples through the sheer fabric and you gasp out in pleasure, gripping his shoulders.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay, sweetheart?” He murmurs, looking up at you as his long tongue swirls and dances along your perked nipples.

“Nngh… yes, please…” You whisper, your voice hoarse and your eyes and cheeks puffy from your crying. This only turns him on more.

He grips your waist tighter and grinds your hips against his thigh, making you tremble and moan from the friction on your sex.

“Hump my thigh, baby… I wanna see how you’ll get off on my cock.”

You whimper at his words as you move your hips along his thigh, holding onto his shoulders as you feel the pleasurable sensations travel your body. You close your eyes and arch your back, as if making a show out of yourself for him— to show him how much you really want him.

Other Friend could only watch in awe as you got yourself off on his thigh, his breathing labored as your wet arousal made a mess of your underwear and his clothed thigh. He placed his hand on the nape of your neck and brought you closer, his nose brushing against your neck as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. You shivered and rutted faster.

Other Friend chuckles at your desperation. “That’s it sweetheart… use me… I’m yours~” He groans, his hot breath fanning your ear. His lips delve into the soft skin of your neck and leaves a trail of kisses and gentle bites. He bounces his thigh gently, gazing in awe as your jaw falls slack and your eyes widen— breathy sounds of pleasure escape your lips as the movement sends vibrations of ecstasy from your groin straight into your brain and the rest of your already agitated body.

“Hhghnn… mine…” You let out a strained moan, your mind and body on autopilot as you relinquish yourself to the pleasure. The sounds of your needy and possessive whines along with the squelching and rutting of fabrics almost makes him cum in his pants. His hard cock was already straining against the clothing, and the movement of your hips made the brush of his cock against his pants just the more sensitive.

He stifles a moan, his breathing ragged as he shuts his eyes. His dick dripping enough pre cum to stain through his pants. A particularly whiny moan of yours snaps his button eyes open as he lets out a low growl, sounding possessive and desperate. You shiver in delight as your hips stutter slightly before picking up the pace.

Other Friend chuckles darkly as he conjures a bottle of lube out of thin air and pulls your underwear aside. “Do you like this, baby~?” He growls lowly, his voice laced with lust. You nod your head enthusiastically, grinding you hips harder. “You want me to finger you good and deep?”

You’re barely given any room to respond before you feel Other Friend’s cold, slimy fingers prod at your hole, making you gasp and arch your back at the sensation. “F-Friend… ahhhh~!” You groan and whine when you feel your best friends long fingers delve deeper and pump shallowly. You stop humping his thigh and begin to ride his hand instead, pressing and grinding your sex onto the palm of his hand while two fingers scissor and stretch out your hole in preparation for what’s to come.

“My sweetheart’s so needy~” He giggles and inserts another finger just to see you writhe and squirm above him. “You wanna ride me, yeah? You wanna jump on your best friend’s cock?” He teases you with a sadistic grin on his face as he pumps his fingers faster and deeper, wet, squelching sounds echoing the room along with your desperate moans.

“Yes! Yes I wanna!” You cry out, tears brimming the corner of your eyes from the intense pleasure burning within your lower body. “Please… I need you!”

“F-Fuck…” Other Friend breathes out, a growl sounding from deep within his throat from your unexpected pleading. This only fueled his obsession and need for you even more as he couldn’t wait to see you bounce on his cock.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and lowers his pants and boxers, his large dick bobbing free. His cockhead was red and weeping with arousal, his length twitching like crazy just from having you stare at it with wide eyes with slight fear, but mostly desire. Other Friend grins and slowly takes his fingers out of your pulsating hole, making you whine from the emptiness. With the same lubrication and slick, he pumps his cock with slow, languid thrusts, smearing his precum and covering his throbbing cock with your juices.

You squirm with anticipation, your hips bucking against nothing as you imagine just how full Other Friend’s cock will make you feel.

“Come on, baby…” He smirks, his voice a seductive purr. “Ride me like you mean it~”

You don’t need to be told twice before you’re straddling his hips and gently lowering yourself onto his thick cock. You hiss and groan slightly as you feel his girth stretch you out further than his fingers did. Other Friend grips your hips, a strangled moan making past his lips as he feels your warm, wet heat slowly envelope him. He takes a sharp intake of breath once he feels you raise and lower yourself at a slow pace, getting accustomed to his size.

“Mmm… so big…” you moan absentmindedly as you continue to grind your hips, not noticing Other Friend’s slacked jaw as he gazes at you like a deity. His button eyes glaze over with primal lust and as he leans closer to beg into your ear.

“C-Can I fuck you? Please baby… you feel too good… let me make you feel good please baby please…” He murmurs, nipping and sucking on your ear.

As soon as you nod, Other Friend grips your hips tighter and makes a few deep, tentative thrusts that left you reeling and holding onto his shoulders for support. Once you manage to catch your breath, his gentle thrusts become an assault to your hole as he pounds into you like a beast in heat.

“F-Friend..! Hhhh… hahhh…” You moan lewdly as he rams his cock from underneath you, his button eyes unwavering from you.

Other Friend grunts with every thrust, his pace only quickening once his cockhead brushes against the part that has you arching your back and moaning from ecstasy.

“Yes… yes! Oh god…”

“Fuck, sweetheart… I can feel you clenching around me…” He grunts, keeping a steady pace as he fucks you fast and deep. “You like it when I fuck you like this, huh? Tell me how much you want me…”

“I want you, Friend… I want you so bad..!” You cry out, bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.

He groans, gripping your hips impossibly tighter as he feels the pleasure slowly build up within him. “Fuck… you feel too good baby… I’m about to cum…” He murmurs in a low, breathy tone.

“M-Me too…” You whimper softly, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his neck as he keeps thrusting into you with fervor. “I… I want it… I want your cum…”

His hips stutter as soon as you said those words. He quickly recovers and becomes more vocal, rutting deeper and faster as his breath came out in quick pants. “Mine… you’re mine…” He growls lowly as he lines his cock to hit your weak spot. “Mine to keep… mine to claim…”

“Please please please please…” You keep chanting and whining desperately.

“Fuck baby, I’m cumming…!” Other Friend moans hoarsely as he spurts ribbons upon ribbons of hot cum inside of you, filling you to the brim with his seed. As soon as you feel him release, you come undone on his cock, shaking and writhing above him as he fucks his cum deeper with a few particularly harsh thrusts that have you seeing stars.

“Ahhhh… hahhhhh… Friend…” you moan into his neck as your body slumped on top of his, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure.

“I’ve got you baby…” He kisses your forehead and holds you tightly against him. “I’ve got you…”

Slowly, drowsiness begins to creep into your body. Your breathing evens out and you rest your head on Other Friend’s shoulder, relaxing in his embrace. In your blissed out state, you barely remember the reason why you sought Other Friend’s comfort, but that barely matters now as he wraps his arms around you and gently rocks you to sleep.

Chapter 6

#yandere #fanfic #stnaf #yandere writing #yandere x reader #friend x reader #stnaf friend #stnafgame #yandere smut #smut #coraline au #coraline #​💾​ see thru need a friend game

[lolita-lollipop]

Bnha Masterlist

Katsuki Bakugo

yandere barbarian bakugo x reader x dragon kirishima

Kiribaku: calling them dad

Yandere dragon kirishima x reader x yandere dragon king bakugo

Yandere Bakusquad Coraline Au

Yandere Bakusquad Werewolf Au

Yandere Bakudeku

Yandere Older brother Bakugo

Bakudeku x sick reader

Bakusquad rapunzel Au

Protective best friend bakugo

Bakusquad x naive reader

Naga kiribaku Au

Caretaker Robots BakuDEku x reader

Bakushoto x reader with seperation anxiety

KiriBaku x abused reader

Yandere father bakugo: he snaps

Security guard bakugo x child reader

Yandere bakuDeku x abandoned reader

Izuku Midoria

Villain Deku H'Cs

Yandere Bakudeku

Yandere father Izuku x stolen daughter of Bakugo

Bakudeku x sick reader

Yandere Villain Deku x Reader

tododeku x sick reader

Shinso

Yandere Shinso x reader x Denki

Yandere older brother shinso allowing reader out

Yandere villain shinso

Yandere shinso: marriage

Villain shinso x reader x villain denki

yandere shinso x reader x yandere denki werewolf Au

Denki Kaminari

Yandere Shinso x reader x Denki

Yandere Bakusquad Coraline Au

Yandere villain Denki x Reader x yandere Villain Kirishima

Villain shinso x reader x villain denki

yandere shinso x reader x yandere denki werewolf Au

Shouta Aizawa

Yandere father aizawa x teenage reader

Sugar Daddy Aizawa x broke! college reader

Erasermic "I hear a symphony" x reader

Erasermic x sick reader

Yandere Aizawa x anxiety ridden reader

Erasermic: competition between Aizawa and Mic

Erasermic: favoritism

Siren Au erasermic x child! reader

Erasermic x anxiety reader

Father Aizawa x kidnapped reader

Ghost Aizawa x Teen reader

Aizawa x medium reader

Aizawa taking care of depresed reader

Aizawa with a reader who has an emotional attachment to stuffed animal

Present Mic

yandere villain hizashi x reader

Erasermic "I hear a symphony" x reader

Erasermic x sick reader

Soft yandere Mic x teen reader

Erasermic: competition between Aizawa and Mic\

Erasermic: favoritism Pt:2

Kirishima

Yandere Kirishima x escaped child reader

Kiribaku: calling them dad

Yandere dragon kirishima x reader x yandere dragon king bakugo

Yandere Bakusquad Coraline Au

Yandere Father kirishima: making him angry Pt:2

Soft! yandere kirishima

Yandere villain Denki x Reader x yandere Villain Kirishima

Yandere kirishima: the little moments

Yandere Kirishima x reader: cuddling

Yandere bakuDeku x abandoned reader

Erasermic Family

Erasermic family coraline Au x reader Pt:2 Pt:3

Yandere erasermic family: Siren Au Pt:2

Erasermic family wonderland Au x reader Pt:2

Erasermic Family x unwilling reader

Royal erasermic Au x Cinderella reader Pt:2

Yandere erasermic: telling them you're pregnant

Demon Erasermic x reader Pt:2

Yandere Erasermic Family: Eri Snaps

Yandere erasermic: meeting 1A on accident

"crickets" erasermic x runaway reader

Todoroki

Bakushoto x reader with seperation anxiety

tododeku x sick reader

#soft yandere #yandere x reader #fem reader #obsession #oneshots #reader insert #romantic obsession #romantic yandere #yandere romantic #platonic obsession #yandere #yandere obsession #yandere bakugo #yandere katsuki bakugo #yandere denki #yandere denki kaminaru #yandere eraserhead #yandere aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere present mic #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic family #yandere erasermic family x reader #yandere shinso #yandere todoroki #yandere kirishima #masterlist #lolita lollipop masterlist

[hotpinkboots]

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~𝕽𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝕲𝖚𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘~

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HELLO THERE, DARLING! My requests are always OPEN! Feel free to spam my inbox as much as you like, there is no limit! I have a wide variety of things for you to request- from popular videogames and action-packed movie trilogies, spooky Tim Burton movies and cult classics, to the most obscure and underrated media, I've got something for everybody! Drop in a few requests, love! Tags: #pinkie speakie (random/related to fanfic/answering anons) #pink's fanfic (fanfiction tag)

Check out my Emoji Anon List! Check out my Discord Server Events! Want to suggest something to me? Here are some guidelines!

Current Requests: 20 (If I don't update the number within a few days of you sending in the request, it was most likely deleted. You can always send in another one if I don't accept!)

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~𝓕𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒𝖘 𝓘 𝓦𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝓦𝖎𝖙𝖍:~

Movies: (Note: I have seen SO many movies, I would hit the Tumblr character limit if I listed them all. There are a lot of movies I'd write with that aren't listed here, so always feel free to ask about unlisted movies!)

•Rocky Horror Picture Show •Shock Treatment •Edward Scissorhands •Corpse Bride •Charlie and the Chocolate Factory •Sweeney Todd The Demon Barber of Fleet Street(2007) •Beetlejuice (1988) •Nightmare Before Christmas •Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children(2016) •Dark Shadows (2012) •Alice In Wonderland(2010)+ Alice Through The Looking Glass(2016) •Les Miserables (2012) •Great Expectations (2012) •Hocus Pocus •The Lone Ranger (2013) •Maleficent •Oceans 8 •Coraline •The Addams Family (1991) + Addams Family Values (1993) •Halloween(Michael Myers) •Friday The 13th (Jason Voorhees) •The Phantom Of The Opera (2004) •Little Shop Of Horrors (1986) •Labyrinth (1986) •The Lost Boys (1987) •The Princess Bride •Psycho (1960) •Dracula (1931) •Death Becomes Her •Clue

Movie Sagas and Trilogies:

•Star Wars(Originals, prequels, sequels, The Mandalorian. Wil not write animated Star Wars.) •Harry Potter •Pirates Of The Caribbean •Lord Of The Rings

Shows and YouTube Series:

•Steven Universe •Adventure Time •Over The Garden Wall •What We Do In The Shadows •ENA •Don't Hug Me I'm Scared •Salad Fingers

Videogames:

•Undertale •Deltarune •Five Nights At Freddy's •SCP Containment Breach

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I Will Write:

•Yandere •Angst •Fluff •ADHD •Love Triangles (Character A + Character B fighting over the Reader) •Mildly Heated Scenes (but NOT full-on smut) •Random+Obscure Headcanon Ideas •Mixing Fandoms (Example(s): Erik Destler x Reader x Dracula, Mettaton x Nightmare Animatronic!Reader) •Headcanons •Female reader (You may also request gender-neutral, but be aware that all of my writing will be aimed at the ladies.)

etc., feel free to ask questions!

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I Won't Write:

✨Note:✨ I will not write about something I do not have, or something I don't have experience with, for I don't know the topic enough to do so. It's not my place to write with things I have no personal experience with.

•Disabilities (such as autism, deaf/hard of hearing, physical disabilities, ect.) •Trans Reader •Pregnancy •Smut (implied smut is fine) •Male Reader (Only Female/Gender Neutral) •As stated before, no smut, but can be implied. •Incest (Magenta & Riff Raff + Nation & Cosmo are the ONLY EXCEPTIONS. Do NOT ASK for anything beyond them, you will be blocked.) •Homophobia •Racism

etc., feel free to ask questions!

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Rules:

•You must give me details about your request. If there is not enough for me to go off of, then I won't write it. •You may request as many times as you wish, but do not spam one request multiple times. •Do not attempt to pressure me into writing your request. •Do not rush my writing.

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Join my Discord server! We have movie nights, art prompts, places to ramble about your hyperfixations, and a ton of cool people to meet and roleplay with!:

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~Love, PinkBoots

© 2024 HotPinkBoots, All Rights Reserved. Under no circumstance is anybody to copy or translate my works without my explicit permission.

#requests open #requests are open #the rocky horror picture show #rocky horror picture show x reader #shock treatment #harry potter #monsters #tim burton #corpse bride #fnaf #helena bonham carter #jareth x reader #the phantom of the opera #scp containment breach #fnaf x reader #steven universe #slashers #the addams family #movies #little shop of horrors #slashers x reader #undertale x reader

[newkatzkafe2023]

@lara-legomonkiekid

What If Monkey Y/N was like the beldam she fell in love with the Monkey king and would make her world fit what his ideals would be and if he wants to stay forever she'll just put buttons in his eyes.

Oh Dangerous monkey Beldam (Y/N) Who's a little Delusional due to loneliness.

(Lmk Wukong) Man it's been tough on Wukong lately. After the search for the samahi fire, the whole being possessed thing and fighting lady bone demon! Yeah he was If exhausted mentally and physically. It's been a few months since then and now their was a minor issue. Tang has brought up that stray men have been Disappearing all over the city. It sounded Suspicious But he didn't think too much on it into a Mysterious doll that looked creepily like him Was discovered by one of the baby monkeys. And with it a just as strange key

(MK Reborn Wukong) Man, he is getting Sick Of It All being disrespected, being insulted, Being told what to do is just not for him. This is not what he signed up for and he hates it. He heard some rumors going around about men disappearing all over the village And he was slightly worried about his master until Fruity found a doll that looked exactly like him It came with a monkey shaped key too.

(Nezha Reborn Wukong) This old man has seen alot but he's never seen anything like this. Li has informed him that men have been Disappearing from downtown. This Was starting to be a problem Because a lot of them were husbands Grief stricken wives appeared on television every day begging for their husbands so come home. Nobody knows what happens Therefore nobody can get closure. Wukong and Li felt bad for the Wives then one night As Wukong Hung out by himself a mysterious package was dropped off at the Garage. when Wukong opened it It was doll version of himself And with it was a key.

(HIB Wukong) Wukong has been listening to Pigsy and Liuer panic about the village men that have been going missing. Wukong Thought the 2 were making a big deal out of nothing They're going to be just a coincidence. Some people are just moving away to other villages. It happens all the time. It's fine. Reassures them that everything will blow over and a little while. But one night as he was Was relaxing by himself he comes across a doll version of himself And a strange monkey shape key.

(Netflix Wukong) He had been hearing rumors about what's been going on in the village. Men have been disappearing left and right both humans and demons. Lin Also had been Bringing it up to him as the disappearances have been getting out a hand. She's worried that he'll be the next go missing. Of course monkey king was confident that whatever is happening won't Happen to him.oh how right Lin was when A doll version of him and a key appeared next to his home one day.

Feel Free to Reblog😇👍

Know that there will be a part 2

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #x yandere reader #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #scary reader #x wife reader #coraline movie #coraline au

[qu1nn-th3-fr0g]

I might start doing x readers??

so being perfectly honest, I fucking love x readers. they're always so nice n shit and when I read them I feel like giggling and kicking my feet 😍😍 so I might start writing them (that basically means I will if I get requests lmfao). So below the cut are basically my rules n stuff !!!

i'm so sorry I just love this image 😭😭

RULES !!!

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♣ first and most importantly, I will NOT write anything romantic/sexual if it is non-con, pedophilic, having some questionable kinks (I wouldn't write for feet kinks or piss kinks. Feel free to message me if you are wondering if a kink you want to request is allowed!!). I will allow yandere content, but again, nothing non-con, so no smut for those.

♣ I will not condone racism, sexism homophobia, transphobia, etc. etc. Please get off my blog if you condone these.

♣ I will do requests for any sort of child reader, but it will ONLY be platonic.

♣ Please don't harass me if I take a while to read and respond to your request. I have a life outside of Tumblr, and sometimes I need breaks from the internet.

♣ I am so sorry, but I will not write any trans ftm or mtf readers. I don't feel like I am educated enough with this topic to write about it. Maybe one day i'll get a bit more educated and i'll remove this rule, but for now, it'll stay.

♣ Please specify your pronouns with your request!! I will try my best to use them in the correct fashion. I will write for male readers, but please please PLEASE give me constructive criticism on those especially. I'm not male, so I might write them wrong/accidentally add the wrong pronouns. If you do not specify your pronouns for the reader, it'll automatically be gender neutral.

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FANDOM LIST !!!!

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♠ Creepypasta

♠ ROTTMNT

♠ TMNT Mutant Mayhem (only platonic)

♠ The Owl House

♠ Dangangronpa V1, V2, & V3

♠ Coraline (wybie my beloved)

More might be added in the future <33 ________________________________________

THINGS I WILL WRITE !!

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♥ I will write romantic requests, platonic requests, yandere requests, angst requests, and possibly smut requests (idk how i'll do on them though lmfao)

♥ I will do oneshots and headcannons. maybe i'll do more?? idk though.

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Please don't be shy to go into my ask box! I promise I don't bite (unless you're into that)

#x reader #gender neutral reader #kinda nervous but I wanna try this #idk what tags to add anymore