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I have collapsed I literally cannot do this anymore this man is out to get me and I physically and mentally cannot repel the onslaught

Timothee Chalamet as Paul Atreides in DUNE

i like to go in the bathroom and splash water on my face and pretend im a male protagonist under a lot of stress

YEONJUN LAYOUTS !! like or reblog if you use <3

The Death Eater ⎪2

the gif is mine.

PART 1

➵ harry potter au, death eater! Seonghwa x muggle-born reader.

➵warnings: magic inaccuracies, talks about blood status, discrimination, MAJOR WARNING: a very explicit scene with abusive parents and talks about it all through the story. This is Seonghwa centered most of the time. Blood, violence, death, etc. probably needs some editing, bear with me.

Please remember this is fanfiction and it is not accurate to the actual development of HP. Details have changed to fit the story.

➵ word count: 3.6k

a/n: This was requested by many people, and I am really grateful about it! I know it took long, but I hope you enjoy it as much as you enjoyed the first one. Please let me know your thoughts and feelings!!

There will be another part since I didn't want to cram part two by making it longer, I hope you understand and please wait for part three which is in the works too!♡

tags: @itsjeonghananon @the-moon-lost-in-joy @danyxthirstae01 @sunsethw4 @fortrest

Seonghwa was used to cleaning the mess, so that’s what he did.

He dragged San across de floorboards, a disgusted grimace on his face, the one he always wanted to wear when San was around and that, when he did, would blame on the fact that whatever job they were doing resulted bothersome to him, rather than admitting his distaste for the Choi heir. Seonghwa obliviated him, wishing to wipe his memory clear but holding himself back and adding the fuzzy memories of Yunho and y/n attacking both of them. If he had believed in a higher force, he would have prayed that nobody would try to peek inside their minds, especially his.

Then, it was time to take care of the bone of contention, the locket of Salazar Slytherin was still in San’s possession, but Seonghwa was quick to retrieve and hide it as best as he could in his chambers, between objects he hadn’t used in years and where he thought nobody would find it. His curiosity had been piqued, naturally, but he also suspected it to be dangerous to ask directly what the fuss over an antique necklace was all about, if he had learned anything through his Death Eater career, it was that you should not ask questions you’re not ready to hear the answer to.

But he knew that no matter what he did, or how many times he explained, he would get punished too.

Seonghwa turned his head in the same direction that the slash took, gritting his teeth to not make eye contact with the man in front of him. He knew his father would take it as a gesture of defiance, and Seonghwa didn’t want to prolong this anymore. His eye was already half closed, and judging by the stinging on his cheek, the cut was pretty deep. He knew his mother would force him to withstand whatever magical treatment she believed appropriate so that his face would be left without a mark, and even that, she made it painful.

“A couple of mudbloods!” his father growled again, “A couple of mudbloods outsmarted the two of you,” another slash, in the same place as before. Seonghwa’s skin tore apart, the taste of his blood in the corner of his mouth. “Are you an idiot? Tell me, are you an idiot?”

“No, sir,” Seonghwa left his gaze on the floor, where he was kneeling, even the floorboard had drops of blood.

“You surely seem like one,” his father paced around him for what seemed like hours, before pushing Seonghwa fully to the ground. “You are a disgrace,” he spat, “You have humiliated our whole family,”

“I know, sir,” Seonghwa didn’t try to get up, he would only get pushed back down.

“You have to fix this, Seonghwa,” his father leaned down to his level, “Or there will be consequences.”

The young man nodded once, waiting for his father to leave the room before getting up, hearing already how his mother bickered about ruining Seonghwa’s face and his father dismissing her with a ‘it can be fixed’, the same thing he always said.

✦ ✦ ✦

Seonghwa looked at himself in the mirror a couple hours later, his mother had refused to fix him up until the swelling receded. So there he was, with his right eye now fully closed and the cut on his cheekbone so swollen he’d thought he had actually lost a piece of his cheek. He hated himself, not for the way he looked, and not even for what had caused this beating. He hated himself for what he had always been, his eyes darted to the sleeve that covered his Dark Mark and once again, he gritted his teeth. He was a disgrace, indeed.

You dodged Mingi’s hand as he tried to dab a cotton ball against your forehead for the thirtieth time. The cut wasn’t even bad, he was just trying to keep himself busy so he wouldn’t have to look at Yunho, who’d got harmed on the journey with the Apparition. You had only lost half of your eyebrow and hurt your arm in the fall, but Yunho had left a decent chunk of his shoulder behind, which was both painful and horrible to witness. However, Mingi’s grandmother assured Yunho would be fine, if not a little traumatized, his shoulder would be good as new.

“y/n,” Mingi sighed, “Just–let me, alright?”

You shook your head, swatting his hand away and slipping out of the chair. “I’m fine, Mingi,”

“Will you finally tell us what happened?” Mingi turned in his own chair, his gaze following you as you paced around the room. “Or should we wait for Yunho?”

With a huff that resembled more an annoyed hiss, you denied him again. Not even you were sure of what had happened back in the Park Manor, and you weren’t in the mood of explaining. Not when you had lost the locket.

“y/n?” Mingi insisted, “What happened to you two?”

“I need to get some rest,” you shut him down, walking out of the room and upstairs, where you knew you wouldn’t actually be able to close your eyes for more than five minutes. Your mind too swarmed with thoughts and images；of San’s face dangling the necklace by the chain, of Yunho on the ground, writhing and screaming, and of Seonghwa, pointing at you and ordering you to leave.

“You know exactly why I did it,” he said, a familiar glint in his eyes that you had tried to push away from your mind. The same one you'd seen many nights back in school, as you wandered through the gardens hand and in hand, and you sneaked around the astronomy tower, muffling your giggles with his lips.

Park Seonghwa saved your life, and you couldn’t explain that to anyone, not even to yourself.

✦ ✦ ✦

Yunho was up the next day, and judging by the blackish purple marks under his eyes, he hadn’t slept either. He brought a mug to his lips, the liquid stinking of ginger and something else too strong and slightly revolting.

You hesitated at the threshold, you weren’t ready for the confrontation you knew Yunho was going to push, he had probably spoken to Mingi again and knowing them the way you did, both had agreed to get an explanation out of you no matter how. You brought your foot behind, and your stomach growled in protest as the smell of the biscuits and overcooked eggs followed you.

“Sit down, y/n,” Yunho called, his eyes searched for yours barely above the brim of his mug. His wounded arm rested atop the table as he tried to take some weight off it.

“I—” you tried for an excuse, but words ceased to exist in your mind as the scents of breakfast became stronger. With a huff that came out of your nose, you walked inside the kitchen, deciding to shut Yunho out the way you did with Mingi the previous night. “Fine.”

Yunho didn’t speak, slurping his tea and breathing loudly through his nose, his back tense.

“How are you feeling?” you dared ask, placing a full plate in front of him before turning away to get your own breakfast.

Yunho left his mug on the table, spilling a few droplets, and pushed the plate away. “Care to explain what happened in Seonghwa’s mansion?”

Yunho couldn’t understand his anger very well, he thought he’d be glad to be out even if it had cost a piece of his body, but he was furious. Every time Seonghwa’s face showed up in his mind, he'd halt for a minute, a blind rage filling his whole body, making him unable to breathe.

You took your time filling your plate and waiting for the pot to magically fill your cup with fresh coffee. Now would be a good time for Mingi’s grandmother to come into the kitchen, but you knew you weren’t so lucky.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, sitting as far from Yunho as you could manage inside the kitchen where no more than six people fit, even by stepping on each other’s toes at some point.

“You don’t know?” Yunho echoed, his good arm had tensed even more and his hand turned into a fist.

“There are more important things to worry about,” you dropped the fork you were holding and it tumbled out of the table, only to levitate back to your hand. “Like the locket we lost.”

Yunho’s jaw locked as he looked away from you for the first time since you sat down, the reminder of your failed mission taking another toll on his dignity. “Why did he save us?” he hissed.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” you looked him straight in the eyes, “He just did, Yunho, accept that and move on. At least we’re alive.”

But he couldn’t. Not when the person who had humiliated him for something he had no control over had a debt to hold against him.

“I’ll absorb the cost,” you said, as if reading his mind, “There is nothing you have to worry about, it was me who made him do that.”

Giving up on getting some food and unwilling to say anything more, you pushed your chair away from the table, leaving Yunho alone, the same way you found him.

Seonghwa adjusted the cloak around his shoulders, the silver buttons that held it together tight enough already. He refused to look at his reflection again, even after his mother had fixed his face, complimenting herself on a job well done and humming as she walked away and left Seonghwa in the dining room, the round mirror face-down on the table.

“Where are you going?” the woman asked as he walked down the stairs, she was holding a fine china cup of tea in one hand, stained with the purple color that adorned her lips.

“I will see Father at the Ministry,” Seonghwa replied coolly, it wasn’t that the tone he used with his parents differed from distant since he was nine years old. “There’s work to do.”

He needn’t say anything else, it was clear his mother knew he was trying to make up for his mistake. The one that had embarrassed the whole family.

“Do a good job,” she demanded, before shoving the cup into the languid arms of the House Elf that had just entered the room.

The only creature in the world that knew what Seonghwa had really done, looked at him through half-lidded eyes. Seonghwa held its gaze without the usual scowl forming on his lips, he knew the Elf was loyal and remained quiet because of its obligation to the family, but still he felt grateful. It was too, the first time the House Elf didn’t seem terrified to look the youngest Park in the eye.

“I will,” Seonghwa replied, making his way to the door and not looking back.

Seonghwa could feel the stares on the back of his neck since he crossed the doors of the Ministry. His first thought, per usual, was that they knew what his father had done to him. It was like wounds that had already been healed by his mother where wide open again, ghostly drops of blood ran down his cheeks and neck and it took a lot of self-control not to bring the tips of his fingers up to make sure he wasn’t in fact bleeding.

But of course, it was because they knew the thing he had done, or more likely what he failed in doing. Gossip ran fast, especially if it involved one of the most respected families in the Magic World and their failure of a son.

Instead of meeting his father to hear another set of curses against him, Seonghwa outside of Dolores Umbridge’s office. Not that she wasn’t a disgusting human being either, but talking to her would be slightly more useful than standing behind his father as he sent people to investigate more innocent muggleborns.

“Come in,” Dolores’ high-pitched voice invited him inside, Seonghwa had to blink over ten times for his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room. “What brings you here, Mr. Park?” the small woman questioned, placing her cup of tea on the desk.

Seonghwa was reminded of how much he disliked her too, and her sorry excuse of classes back when he was at Hogwarts. “I would like to have a word with you madam,” he did his best to smile as she beckoned for him to have a seat.

“About what?”

“I am aware something was stolen from you by a couple mudbloods,” he started, only pausing to bite the tip of his tongue, “I will do my best to bring it back to you, but I would like to know where to start looking.”

A ridiculous giggle left the woman’s lips, although her cheery humor didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s not about the necklace Mr. Park, I do not care about it,” Dolores took a sip of her tea and stared at Seonghwa.

“It’s about how brave those impures are getting these days, don’t you think?”

Seonghwa agreed with a tense nod, wishing to rush things but knowing he’d get nowhere if he insisted.

“I want them punished,” the woman continued, “People in their position ought to learn a lesson, and I still think you would be the ideal teacher. Those two… they were your classmates, weren’t they?”

“Yes, they were,”

“Excellent,” another giggle filled the room, “Make sure they learn the lesson, Mr. Park, make them an example before this gets out of control.”

She bit back the words ‘thanks to you,” and took the last sip of her tea. “Mundungus Fletcher,” she said then, making Seonghwa furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I got the locket from Mundungus Fletcher, I wouldn’t mind if he stopped being a problem, too.”

“Absolutely,” Seonghwa got up from the chair, showing another smile and muttering a strained ‘Thank you, Madam,” before leaving the bright pink office.

✦ ✦ ✦

Mundungus Fletcher was not a smart man.

He was a lowlife criminal, a below-average wizard and frankly, a pain in the ass for more than one person. So it wasn’t difficult for Seonghwa to find him either, as he scurried away from a raid in Diagon Alley and hid behind abandoned stores.

“A word, please?” Seonghwa pushed himself off the wall, the buildings shadow covered half of his face.

Mundungus jumped back from his hiding spot, taking a hand to his heart. “Shit,” he muttered at the time he scrambled to his feet.

Seonghwa didn’t bother to take a step towards him, before Mundungus was out of the alley, an invisible force casted by Seonghwa’s wand had tied his hands and feet together. “I said please,” Seonghwa hovered over the smaller man, unamused.

“Listen, I did nothing wrong,” Mundungus squirmed, looking up at Seonghwa. “And I have no business with… with your people…” he whispered the last part, eyes darting to Seonghwa’s arm, where the Dark Mark was covered by his black sleeves. That was also a lie, Mundungus did business with anyone who would listen.

“I’m looking for something you gave away,” Seonghwa leaned towards Mundungus, making him retreat again. “It’s a locket. Silver chain and yellow charm, and I know you had it, so don’t try to lie to me.”

The thief remained silent for a moment, as if trying to remember the object. “Was it that valuable?” he tsked, voice full of regret since he did give it away instead of selling it to the best bidder.

Seonghwa breathed through his mouth, holding on to the bits of patience that remained inside him. “Where did you get it?”

“I found it,”

“Where?” Seonghwa finally pointed his wand to Mundungus’ face, touching the tip to his nose.

“What is it?” Mundungus dared ask, eyes crossing as he looked at Seonghwa’s wand on his face. “I thought it was just a stupid necklace,”

“Where did you get it?” Seonghwa pressed his weapon to the man’s cheek this time, sinking it deep enough to touch his teeth.

“Grimmauld Place,” Mundungus finally gave it up, “In London, it’s an abandoned house that used to be an Order of Phoenix—”

Seonghwa groaned, “What are you trying to do? Set me up?”

“No! I promise nobody goes there anymore, but the family was rich—the Blacks, you must know them.”

Considering all of them were dead, maybe Mundungus was right and it was empty. Seonghwa could find something that would tell him what was so important about the locket.

“Thank you,” Seonghwa’s voice didn’t give away whether he actually felt grateful, but at least he returned the wand to the inside of his robes before walking away.

“Wait! Let me go!” the older man called as Seonghwa disappeared down the alley, “Let me go!”

“You’ll be free in a couple hours,” he called back, unbothered.

✦ ✦ ✦

Grimmauld Place was situated in a Muggle neighborhood, it was ugly and Mundungus was right about it being abandoned. Once Seonghwa stepped inside, he grumbled about the stale air and dusty surroundings, he also figured he wouldn’t find anything useful if more people had looted the place.

He walked through the halls carefully, looking around with the help of a lumos spell and sneezing a couple times as dust made its way up his nose. As he made his way to the kitchen, he barely managed to dodge a candle stick that was thrown his way in the darkness.

“I told you not to come back here, you scum!” a raspy voice yelled, before another stick flew towards Seonghwa. “If you’re here to steal again—!”

With a flick of his wand, Seonghwa turned the lights to the kitchen on, finding a small and frankly hideous creature behind the cupboard, ready with another candlestick between its small hand.

“Who are you?” Seonghwa questioned with a frown.

The House Elf growled, considering whether he should attack the young wizard again, but he was quick to recognize him as a member of a pureblood family, and Kreacher loved purebloods. He could even recall seeing Seonghwa’s face in the Daily Prophet at least a couple times.

“Who are you?” Kreacher shot back, still gripping the candlestick but slowly letting his arm fall to the side. “What do you want?”

Seonghwa knew immediately that saying he got sent by Mundugus was a terrible idea, and lying about being sent by ‘you-know-who’ would get him in much more trouble than he already was.

“I’m looking for something,” Seonghwa replied, trying to buy himself some time. Scrambling through the poorly lit kitchen, he found a dirty napkin and with the help of his wand, he drew the locket as best as he could remember it, which wasn’t very difficult. He always kept engraved in his mind the reasons for a beating from his father. “Have you seen this before?”

The creature let out a small gasp, tearing the paper from Seonghwa’s hand. “How do you know about this?” he demanded, his already reddened eyes filling with tears.

Recovering his normal business-like demeanor, Seonghwa spoke again: “I asked you a question, have you seen it before?”

Reluctantly, Kreacher gave the drawing back to Seonghwa. “It was stolen, there is no use in you looking for it anymore,”

“I’m not looking for it,” Seonghwa continued, “I want to know about it.”

“Why?”

“It seems like something important to many, including yourself, now tell me about it.” Seonghwa sat back in a chair, crossing his legs on top of the table and causing more chagrin in the Elf.

After a few minutes of silence, only broken by Kreacher muttering under his breath, Seonghwa decided to change his approach. Given the elf’s emotional reaction to the simple drawing, Seonghwa guessed it was in fact important to him.

“I will give it to you once I’m done with it,” he started, “But I must know what it is, and you must keep this a secret.”

With renewed interest, Kreacher approached Seonghwa pretending like he needed to take a second look at the drawing. “Why do you have it?”

“That’s not important,” Seonghwa gestured as if getting rid of the idea, “You will not tell anyone we spoke, not even that you saw me, you understand?” not getting a definite answer to his demand, Seonghwa bit the inside of his cheek before adding: “I will get you killed if you do.”

Not if Seonghwa got himself killed first, but the threat was there for what it was worth.

“Fine,” Kreacher agreed at last, wiping his deformed hands in his already filthy clothing. “It belonged to old Master Regulus, and before that to the Dark Lord himself. Master Regulus told Kreacher to destroy it, but no matter how hard Kreacher tried… Kreacher couldn’t do anything.”

“Where did your master get it?”

Kreacher told Seonghwa the story of a cave, poison and Inferni that pulled his former master underwater until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

The locket was important to the Dark Lord, but something was missing and Seonghwa couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

Luckily, he knew exactly someone who could, but he was certain they wouldn’t want to see him again.

𝖂𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉: Part Four

Pairing: Cheshire Cat!Minho x Reader, Mad Hatter!Felix x Reader

Warnings: Major TW!! Murder, death, attempted assault, recurring yandere themes, dishonesty, cursing,  If you can’t handle Tim Burton or Alfred Hitchcock films or yandere stories, don’t read! Highkey psycho vibes. This part is the darkest of the series. Please read with discretion!! Honestly kinda sad, I cried writing this T-T

Note! This does not in any way represent my opinion on the character of SKZ. This is purely for entertainment purposes and since I am too lazy and uncreative to create my own characters for a yandere wonderland au, I wrote it as a fanfic. Also this is not proofread so have fun looking for my mistakes lol

Other links:

SKZ Masterlist

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I must had fallen asleep on the back of the rabbit because my eyes opened and my brain woke up when we jolted to a stop.

I looked around me at the enormous trees. They seemed huge days ago when I ran around mindlessly here just days ago but now in my current situation they seemed mountainous.

I slid off the back of the animal's back because now appearing in tall in front of me was a familiar cottage; the house belonging to Felix the hatter.

The front door opened and Felix came out with a watering can. He walked around the front to a small flower sitting in a pot.

"Hello, rose." He greeted in a monotone. The flower swayed around in response. His garden was much smaller than my previous host's but his flowers were much more beautiful and welcoming.

The bunny that stood next to me stood on its hind legs to grab Felix's attention.

The boy's head turned to our direction. When he saw me he set the can down and walked towards us.

he opened his front gate and knelt down to our level. "I see you found my present." He smiled and lent his hand for me to climb on.

I caught a glimpse of his big brown eyes before he set me up on the brim of his comically large hat he wore. I held on to the purple ribbon that was wrapped around the base.

"I have an antidote to the shrinking treat you ate inside." He said.

"Mm hmm," I responded as he went into his home. The rabbit followed close behind us.

Felix's house was much brighter in both appearance and aura.

It was much more bustling inside than the dreary woods outside. He had a kettle singing loudly on the stove, a long table for guests except that all the chairs were empty and the cups and things were dancing to the kettle's song, and all along the walls were dozens of hats and other accessories and materials to make such apparel.

There was a spiral staircase that disappeared into the ceiling and a couch off to the side. All in all, a very welcoming and friendly sight.

But as I looked around I observed that there was something a bit sad about it. Something about the way that there were far too many chairs at the table. Or the way the rabbit behind us hopped around aimlessly throughput the house. Something... Something was off.

I decided that if Felix couldn't tell me what was wrong, I couldn't trust him. I wasn't going to make the same mistake with him as I did with Minho.

He set me down on the counter.

"Hey, you can stop singing now!" He opened the lid of the kettle whose song melted into a mumble. "Okay, I have it," he rummaged through the colorful cupboards. "Somewhere in here..." He pulled out a little wooden box. "Aha! Here we go." He opened the lid and pulled out a tiny biscuit and placed it in my tiny hands.

"Don't eat it yet, let me get you some clothes." He rushed up the stairs and came back down with a pair of trousers and a blouse. "Here!" He set them on the table. "I hope they fit, there's no knowing if you'll turn out the exact size as before." He warned before stepping outside. "I'm going to finish tending to my plants, you can let me know when you're dressed." He closed the door behind him.

I couldn't help but think to myself how refreshing it was to have him tell me everything; where he was going, the side effects of the crazy candies... Minho was never open with me.

I popped the cracker on my mouth and felt a strange tingle in my legs before a bodywide stretch as though I just woke up and had been very stiff but was now stretching all of my muscles. I ended up naked on the counter and felt very shy to be clotheless in a stranger's house. I hopped down and slipped on the clothes Felix gave me. Standing up, I felt slightly smaller than normal. I frowned at the way the pants were a bit loose around my waist and I realized I didn't grow back to my full size. I adjusted the collar of the shirt that wanted to fall off my shoulders.

The clothes smelled like roses and dirt so I assumed they must be some of his gardening clothes.

I opened the door to see Felix engaged in a friendly conversation with a daisy in his flower bed. He looked up and suppressed a laugh as he stood up to walk closer to me.

"They're a bit big," I commented. Standing next him, I did feel shorter than before. "But they'll do. Thank you."

"No problem. They're just my work clothes but I clean them regularly." He assured me.

I nodded to show my gratitude. I looked around the foggy yard in front of me. It was so different from inside his house. Unlike Minho's house that was a small and rather plain home in a beautiful valley, the Hatter's shop seemed like a hidden treasure in a dreary wasteland.

I slept in an upstairs room the size of a walk-in closet. The bed was small but comfortable and Felix lent me a night dress he had. (for some reason. It seemed more of a girl's nightgown.)

My sleep was dreamless but interrupted by the unrestful feeling of darkness. A chill filled my bones, I felt cold and moist under my clothes as though I broke out in a cold sweat.

I sat up in bed and looked towards the door that was left agape and led to the cramped hall and stairway.

I pulled a blanket up to my chin and contemplated finding the hatter or the rabbit, somebody to help me. But I couldn't move beyond twitching from anxiety.

I heard nothing and kept my eyes on the doorway hoping this was just a nightmare.

Maybe I was sick.

Maybe it was just anxiety.

But when I heard creaking from all over the house, I knew those thoughts were in vain.

Something was off. I couldn't identify where it was coming from. It sounded like it was behind me but there was only a wooden wall I was leaning against and small window to my left.

I trained my attention to the door. I hoped it was only the other resident of the house but if it was, I wouldn't have woken up so panicked.

After several minutes, I felt a bit more relaxed. I still felt cold inside my body but I figured I must be coming down with a fever, nothing more.

I laid back down in my bed and stared at the ceiling, letting my eyelids become heavy.

Nothing is wrong, nothing is wrong... Those words echoed in my brain until I was in a state of passive sleep.

I opened my eyes again, it only felt a few minutes but the coldness had returned. And this time I felt it on the outside of my skin too.

"Good morning, kitty." His voice. I knew that it was his voice. I closed my eyes again, trying to fall back asleep. Convince myself that it was fake. But I felt clammy hands on my skin.

I felt a draft. He must have come through the window.

His fingers on my neck, tracing everywhere. Hot tears pricked my eyes as fear welled up inside me.

I opened my mouth to call for help but the monster above me clamped his hand on my mouth.

"Shh... Don't wake Felix, he's very tired. It's still dark out, sweetheart." He whispered in my ears. He was more slick than before. He wouldn't stop smirking, I could hear it on his voice even though my eyes were still closed.

His hand still keeping me quiet, he continued to talk. "I thought you'd stay with me if I was friendly and welcoming. I guess you prefer an insane hat maker to me, huh?" I whimpered out of pain that was forming in my neck from the force on my head.

"You do know that he's still obsessed with our dead friend Alice, huh? I know he visits her and I also know you found him by her grave, isn't that right?" His twisted chuckle was enough to bring the tears behind my eyes out onto my cheeks.

His other hand had firmly rested on my stomach. "Look at this, he even dressed you up in her clothes? They fit you nicely." He snickered but it sounded pained. "What a creep. Trying to dress you like her. Trying to turn you into her, isn't he?"

Why was he doing this? Why did he continue to taunt me? What was he doing to me? With every jab of his words, I felt like I was losing myself in my anxiety and fear. A steady stream of tears fell down my face and I was shaking uncontrollably.

I grabbed his wrist with both hands, trying to pry it off me. He sneered and removed his hand slowly with a warning: "Scream and you'll regret it."

But I didn't want to scream, I only wanted to know why.

"Wh-why are you doing this to m-me?" I croaked from the silent crying.

All humor in his face was gone and replaced by fury. "Because that son of a bitch in the next room over took everything from me!" He spat. His ears twitched and folded back on his head and I felt his tail flicking back and forth against my legs.

His hovering was declining and he got closer to me and gripped the bed board in anger. "And now he's trying to take you from me!"

"I-I'm not yours." I said smally, knowing it would probably set him off even more.

His jaw clenched. "Not yet." He grabbed my jaw with one hand. "I was getting close. And then you had to go and leave the house. you could have been happy with me."

My cries were getting to be be too much to keep quiet. I clasped my own hands over my mouth and sobbed.

I was so sad and scared. He never wanted to help me. He was plotting to keep me with him forever. A chill ran up my spine at the thought.

He was now so close to me. I could feel his labored breaths on my face. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me up with him. "You have a choice now, y / n. You can stay here if you want or you can stay here and face the consequences."

He walked over to the doorway and waited for me to move.

"How did Alice die?" I asked. His face went white but his expression went back to the default smile. It seemed cold and scary now.

"If I couldn't have her then neither could Felix." Was all he said.

My mouth went dry. If I chose to stay I'd... I didn't want to think about that. I got up on shaky legs and followed him to the door.

"Good choice, cutie."

I raised myself on my toes and did something I wanted to die before doing. I kissed him. It was the grossest I ever felt in my life, kissing a murderer. But it caught him off guard enough to grab his collar and push backwards. He expected his back to hit a wall, but as he backed up, up, up-

His foot slipped on the first stair.

I pushed him back and he fell down the stairs. He let out a terrible screech as I heard snapping and thudding until he reached the bottom.

I stared in horror from the top of the stairs at his body that was folded in a most inhuman manner.

Thumps came down the hall to my left and a hand gripped my shoulder.

"Y / n! Are you- oh my-" Felix breathed when he saw the body below us. His breathing was shaky. I heard him trying to say something but couldn't.

Minho's body seemed very lifeless but Felix grabbed a hat rack before checking anyway.

From the top of the stairs I had fallen and knelt looking down as Felix checked Minho's pulse.

He came up the stairs and sighed.

"Is he... dead?" I asked.

Felix nodded. "What was he doing here?" He asked me, grabbing my hand he led my down the hall to a little water closet and lit a candle.

It was hard to speak. As if my throat had closed up. I knew my body was going into shock which helped numb me a bit. "He-he... he tried to- to,"

"Take you?" His eyebrows raised as he dunked a rag in a bowl of water.

I nodded. He wrung the towel out and pressed it against my forehead. He held it there for a few moments before handing it to me. I patted my face. my hands felt heavy like cement.

I just killed someone.

As if reading my mind, Felix started talking again. "Please don't feel guilty for that." He said. He maintained a rather stoic attitude almost the whole time. "You did what I couldn't. but what he deserved."

"No one deserves to die-"

"Well he did." He said in a final voice. "He was," he sucked in a breath. "my friend. I know him. I know what he's done. But please don't let the guilt build up. You did nothing wrong."

He turned to look me in the eyes. I hadn't noticed until now, but he had beautiful freckles. My shock-ridden mind couldn't help but fixate on them. "He was trying to take you, you had every right to defend yourself-"

I was only half listening. I reached up to brush a calloused finger against his cheeks, mesmerized by the marks on his face.

He sighed and grabbed my hand, pulling it away. "Let's get you back to bed."

He pulled me back down the hall but I paused halfway back to the closet-bedroom. "Don't make me sleep in there." I couldn't go back. It was to scary to be alone.

Sympathy flooded his face. "Alright." He whispered. "You can sleep with me tonight."

I got comfortable in his bed and curled up in the blankets.

"I'm going to go er, clean up. I'll be back."

He didn't return for an hour and I faded in and out of sleep. When he did, he brought up a cup of tea for me.

"I got the quietest cup I have." He handed it to me. I heard fluttering whispers coming from it. I put the porcelain to my ear and tried to make it out but I couldn't so I just took small sips from it.

I laid back down to sleep and Felix slept in an armchair in the corner of the room.

My sleep was restless and full of dreams but when I woke to sunlight and something warm and soft on my stomach I felt a bit better.

The little rabbit had made himself comfortable on me and I pet him softly.

I saw that Felix was gone and I felt very lonely. I was still shaking and felt lightheaded. I tried to sit up but fell back into the sheets.

I decided to stay like that until Felix came back.

Note: Here's part four! there will be another part which I will have up soon FOR REAL I promise. Felix kind a turned out to be a tsundere lowkey lol I hope this wasn't too disturbing, it was kind of hard to write because of that. But now I need time to figure out what happens next. But before that, I'll be posting some requests and drafts

Taglist: @kayannainsworth15 @skzstanlol @cash-van @softieforeveryone

stray kids as reductress headlines

Monster Rookies back at it again

can you seriously imagine being at johnny suh’s house party politely refusing the nasty white claw he offers you and trying to inch past taeyong who is cleaning up another beer spill and picking cheese out of the carpet with horror to almost bump into slightly tipsy and very ready to argue politically about just about anything doyoung and making excuse so you don’t have to and running up the stairs passed a worried mark who shyly asks if you’re ok, if you need anything and when you smile and thank him he nearly trips over himself but you don’t notice because you’re distracted by a sad looking jaehyun sitting at the top of the stairs with his phone in his hand typing up another poem about how being unloved in a room full of people hurts and you’re like ok weirdo as you make past him and down the hall where jungwoo is in the bathroom being convinced by yuta that this manic panic pink is going to look sooooo good on him and you think you should stop that before it happens but you feel a hand tap your shoulder and whisper “just let it happen” as haechan strolls away from you and waves his solo cup in the air and finally you make it to a quiet nook at the end of the hall where you want to sit down and collect your thoughts but it’s already occupied by taeil whose fallen asleep with a half eaten slice of pizza by his foot and you’re like well i guess ill just make myself at home as you slide down on the wall beside him and are happy to use his abandoned flannel as a impromptu blanket for your cold knees and you’re like let me have this peacefulness as the sound of the party rages downstairs

☆: ko-fi donation: oblivious!bf mingi ft rich boy ateez tw: flaunting of money, brand names you don't care for, suggestive

hongjoong runs his knuckles across his jaw, his date is saying something about how her parents just got her a condo in malibu and she's so excited for the hottest parts of summer, but hongjoong looks past her slender shoulders toward a table at the back of the restaurant. everyone here is a socialite of some kind. a star lost in between a billion constellations. you look different even though you look happy, as always, to be here with mingi. hongjoong feels the diamond edge of one of his rings presses cold under the tip of his chin. mingi is everything he is not. all bubble gum smiles and no walls of distrust to breakdown. he charms you with how easy it is, look you can date a rich boy without any issues. hongjoong breathes in through his nose. he's too much baggage for someone that's unfamiliar with cruelty like you are. he'd be like downing straight bleach, mingi's digestible and yummy - peach juice on an afternoon. "are you like listening to me - who are you staring at?" the date puts a cold finger on hongjoong's wrist and he immediately pulls himself back and glares. "don't touch me." she bats her eyelashes like she's hurt - asks who he was looking at again - you laugh at something mingi says as he leans over to whisper into the shell of your ear. hongjoong doesn't answer and grabs the nearest waiter for the check.

yeosang's family owns this wing of the art gallery. the letters on the golden plaque that hangs right outside the entrance spell out kang, bold and hand engraved. every original picasso in these four walls belongs to him - if he wanted to come here after the museum was closed and rip each of them out of their frames to crush in-between his hands - no one would be able to stop him. you look so excited, all sparkling eyes and big smile, yeosang can understand how overwhelming it might be to you but he doesn't understand why mingi had to come along. mingi ignores the art on the walls, his eyes follow you around the room and light up when you come rushing toward him to press against his arm and babble on about a certain piece you never thought you'd see in person. you must feel so warm and soft, yeosang thinks to himself without letting the stone look on his face say otherwise, you're always touching mingi. yeosang doesn't remember the last someone tucked themselves into the safety of his arms like that, with meaning, with purpose, with a silent confirmation about how much they wanted to be there for him. you appear in front of him and put your hands lightly on his shoulders. he stiffens and you say you don't know how to thank him for letting you and mingi come see this exhibit before it was available to the public. you're gushing with gratitude, your palms are weightless on his sweater and yeosang thinks he wants you to never let go. when you do, the spot where you touched is still lingering with a comfortable heat. then you disappear into mingi's arms once more and that heat burns right down to his skin.

yunho and seonghwa are supposed to be talking about the possibility of a merger between the two companies their families run. they're supposed to be having a chat about the revenue and marketing strategies that could develop within the partnership, they're supposed to sip on their drinks that cost way too much, they're supposed to see who has the better prada tie. but they're both distracted, all hot on the back of their necks because you are seated at the end of the bar alone. whatever you're wearing is complimenting the line of your neck down to your shoulders. you lean a cheek against your hand and one pretty and expensive bracelet slides down your wrist. yunho swallows and seonghwa thinks about who you could be - he's never seen you here before. for a moment you look up at the bartender who asks you something neither of them can hear. you smile in response, yunho tightens the grip on his glass and his thoughts aren't all that different from seonghwa's. what would it be like if you smiled at one of them? arms reaching up to grasp their shoulders, your little kitten teeth on the skin of their jaw. you look liked you'd fit perfectly in the space between both men - back to yunho's chest, arms coiled around seonghwa's waist. there is a thick tension in the air - if only for a brief second before seonghwa sits up straight when you slide off the bar stool and yunho follows and crosses his legs. they both watch you glide toward the entrance where song mingi is standing. yunho feels something in his chest break, maybe a rib puncturing through his heart - mingi, they're with mingi of all people? seonghwa turns his attention away, but not before he can hear mingi call out to them in polite greeting. both men nod their heads in response, raise their glasses. you are giggling when he pulls away, neither seonghwa or yunho have anything to say.

jongho can smell love is in the air, the perfume mingi asked him about when he bought it for you on your first anniversary. jongho had mentioned that the limited edition from the house of sillage was a favorite among some of his clients, maybe you'd like it too - and now the fragrance haunts him because it always means you're near. jongho feels his glasses slide down his nose, he pinches the bridge and tries to attempt some sort of concentration on his legal brief and not on the fact that you've let yourself into his apartment again. somewhere in the expanse of the loft he hears your footsteps, you're humming and it's getting louder. jongho wishes he could tell you to stop coming over without prior warning - he might have someone over...not that that's even a probability, he'd rather die than touch someone that isn't you. you appear in the doorway of his office - you have a look in your eyes that breaks jongho's heart and lodges something deep in the back of his gut. "you won't believe it jongho, mingi is taking me to monte carlo this weekend!" jongho tilts his head and returns his gaze to his work "really?" of course he is, he asked me about that too - where do they want to go, if you don't know why are you even dating them? "yes, he knows monaco is a dream of mine - what are you doing though?" he makes the mistake of looking up and you are bent over the desk. the heat from how close you are makes something in his brain malfunction, you could spend your weekend here - pressed into the oak, flat against the floor to ceiling windows, spread out prettily under me. "im working on a brief." his answer is dry and you are bored of it as easily as you are of anything that isn't about your boyfriend. "sometimes i wonder how does mingi know me so well, you know - i think it's really love." jongho's is tempted to sneer, but his manners and the weight of hurting you in any way stops him. "sure, im happy for you two." you fall into the armchair across from him with stars in your eyes, love is in the air coats every inch of the room, jongho hates it. he loves it, too.

san pulls you toward a car that looks like something out of the future. he's rambling, "this is the valkyrie, aston martin sent it to me as an exclusive gift so i could promote it on my page - the aerodynamics are sick!" you don't know what any of that means - "how much is this thing?" san shrugs "i don't know, like 4 million? who cares - get in!" you turn to him and san takes in the image of you standing in front of a beautiful car, wearing that pretty diamond collar mingi bought you which san frequently remembers when he has a moment alone in his room, and the rolling hills that surround his mansion. self-made influencer money has gotten him where he wants to be in life, the last missing puzzle piece is - "san, didn't you crash the last car you had?" he can't wrap his head around why he thinks the disappointment in your voice makes him hard "i crash every car i get, just so i can go buy a new one!" he grins at you, teeth blinding and white. you shake your head "just let me take a photo of you for your instagram" san winks at you, leaning forward to drop his phone in your palm "make sure i look pretty." you roll your eyes, but san catches your small smile. he leans against one of the sleek doors of the car, finds you in front of him and wonders if you are any the wiser about what you do to him. see, he likes mingi and all - mingi gets him, he gets cars and fancy shit, but something about mingi ticks san off. he has something no amount of social media followers or sponsorships is ever going to get san. he has you. you tell san, "stand up straight, move to the left" - san pretends you're saying "lay down, kiss me there, do better than that." with your hands tangled in his hair. you take the picture, san doesn't even look at it and doesn't hear what you're saying. you're already walking away when he mumbles that he'll crash this new car thinking about your hot mouth wrapped around him.

wooyoung throws parties on yachts the same way people have sunday family dinners. maybe it's because he needs to live in constant noise and the swelter of other people. being alone and being quiet means he has to hear himself think, that's why he likes being an actor. he has his lines and the character's thoughts are his own - he doesn't worry about anything real. but you're very real dancing pressed up against mingi's broad chest, his large hands resting on the curve of your hips. wooyoung invited both of you like some kind of form of self-torture because he likes depriving himself of everything mingi has and watching you get closer and closer to him through the night. wooyoung sees you lean your head back, takes in the image of mingi meeting your lips with his own, fuck this am i some kind of voyeur? wooyoung tries to focus on someone else - something else - but you and mingi dance back into view. the ship rocks with the waves and the sheer force of everyone on it. wooyoung stumbles mentally through what he imagines will happen in this next scene, will you and mingi find yourselves alone on the top deck? will mingi kiss down your throat in the moonlight? will you push your hands down below his belt? someone grabs wooyoung and pulls him in toward them, their teeth graze his ear, wooyoung doesn't bother to see who it is - it's easier to pretend it's you instead. he knows it's fucked up, but he acts for a living - he can make this whole thing into a movie in his head if he really tries. he just has to keep looking at you, pretending the hands that find his skin are yours, he has to pretend that he's mingi and the thought is sickeningly delightful.

mingi is well aware of the way people look at you. they get this hungry, hooded look in their eyes. people mistakingly think he's stupid and large and nice all the time - don't see anything but his kindness and his money. you push your hands through the sleeves of his dress shirt and mingi tilts his head, watching the line of your body through the fabric. he must have been a martyr in his last life, getting to be with you, when every person in his life would kill to be in his place. he thinks about hongjoong, staring at you at the restaurant. thinks about yeosang tightening his jaw when your hand comes to rest on his shoulder. thinks about yunho and seonghwa seeing you for a mere second and falling head over heels. thinks about jongho, always giving mingi advice with the underlying jealous undertone about how happy he is for the two of you. thinks about san trying to throw gifts and his own body at your feet. thinks about wooyoung and his yachts that he buys as some kind of compensation. you turn around to throw yourself against mingi's naked chest, he wraps his hands around you and kneads against your spine. "i don't know why you picked me, but i love you so much." you say it like you don't know how precious of a commodity you are - how the real person with choice is and always has been you. he just laughs, "thanks for choosing me you mean." you make a joke about how you had no other options, mingi wishes he could be as oblivious as you.

ONEUS AS TYPES OF YANDERE

Warnings: yandere(duh), manipulation, violence, toxic relationship, mentions of abuse, torture 

Requested: yes

Kim Youngjo

The ‘Making my teeth rot’ Type

-he would be the sweetest 

-always making sure you keep a smile on your face 

-he would keep his eyes on you all the time, just to make sure that no one dared to mess with you 

-ravn is head over heels for you, crazily sick

-he would drop everything for you

-not going to work just to take care of you even if you barely showed any signs of sickness

-texting you constantly during the day to see if you needed anything, and if you missed any of his texts or calls… well… it wouldn’t really be good for you, would it?

- he would never want to act out violently in front of you because he didn’t want to scare you

-but if he were to be alone with someone that bugged you , that’s a whole different story…

Keep reading

Comfort/Kim Byeongkwan/Byeongkwan

Warnings: yandere! 

Genre: fluff , a tiny little bit of angst

Requested: yes, from this prompt  “I swear, if anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll cut their arm off.”

Byeongkwan had heard you crying from the moment he stepped through the door . He isn’t exactly the ‘gentle boyfriend’ type, but he immediately felt the need to check if you were okay. He rushed towards your room, bursting inside and heading over to where you were sitting. Byeongkwan’s heart broke a little at the sight of your tears, and his immediate reaction was to embrace you, which he did. All of his actions were unusual, he never was this soft for you or anyone.

Keep reading

rebloging fanfic on main cause momma didnt raise a wimp

*+:｡.｡[main masterlist]｡.｡:+*

full content of bands listed below:

+ STRAY KIDS

+ WANNA ONE

+ DAY6

+ MONSTA X

+ NCT & WAYV

+ JBJ 

+ MXM 

+ NU’EST W

+BTS

+SEVENTEEN

+UNB

+PENTAGON

+ K-SOLOIST & KHH

+ATEEZ 

I would think hongjoong, san, wooyoung, and jongho band kids (+ maybe yunho?) and seonghwa, yeosang, and mingi orchestra kids

anon you and I are on the same wavelength. this is the lineup I am now thinking of:

band kids aka hongjoong and his children (includes regular band and jazz band):

hongjoong: jazz pianist, can probably play every instrument but sticks with piano just because? loves improvisation and spends most of class not listening to the band director (no one can yell at him, he's the best player), will playfully get into fights with seonghwa over the merits of classical vs jazz but truthfully does enjoy all types of music, he just really really REALLY likes playing nonsense on the piano and making it sound good. paints his nails even though they have to be short for playing piano. what a rebel

yunho: clarinet, too tall for his section??????? bitch he'll be sitting in the front and well good luck to everyone else behind him lmao, actually really enjoys playing and isn't an annoying ass like band kid wooyoung, likes to sometimes learn the orchestra clarinet stuff and is an honorary orchestra kid (seonghwa loves him but not when he's messing around with mingi). just. a very tall gentle giant whose hands look massive around his little clarinet but it works

san: flute and is mad about it. not about the flute like he LOVES playing the flute but SHUT THE FUCK UP @ THE REST OF THE BAND HE CAN'T HEAR HIMSELF. looks very pretty sitting there in the front (also looks unfairly pretty just playing the flute - what the fuck dude we're all doing duck lips but he's just there looking ethereal bitch what). really does pay attention to the conductor when he isn't being a shit with wooyoung but could get away with murder tbh since everyone in band loves him.

wooyoung: trombone. a literal piece of shit. my band director once showed us how he empties spit from his trombone onto the FLOOR and I just kNOW middle school/high school wooyoung would do that shit to laugh at everyone yelling. only cleans up the spit when hongjoong sends jongho to threaten him. really stupidly good at trombone though so no matter how much everyone wants to strangle him they kinda need him there bc the other trombones fucking suck lmao. I've decided to move on from the alto sax wooyoung agenda bc I genuinely hated the alto saxes and I do not genuinely hate jung wooyoung

jongho: jazz vocals when he isn't being a choir boy. angelic voice, hongjoong praises the lord every day that he managed to adopt jongho into his little band of idiots. really loves singing jazz because it does some cool ass shit with the voice but is also very tired of dealing with wooyoung?? once broke an apple over wooyoung's head and they legitimately had wooyoung get checked for a concussion. likes to break fruit in the middle of performances which makes the audience go wild (they advertise it when concerts come around). band director just has their head in their hands

orchestra kids aka seonghwa and his children:

seonghwa: first chair violinist. was one of those kids with those parents who made them learn an instrument when they were young and in seonghwa's case it was three - violin, flute, and piano. liked violin the most though he's fairly good at piano and decent at flute. not really a music prodigy but he's first chair because he's very good at what he does and is the responsible one who keeps the rest of the orchestra reined in. everyone respects him but at the same time doesn't and seonghwa just wants a break at this point

yeosang: piccolo. likes it because he doesn't have to worry about not being heard like the flutes do because EVERYONE will hear him playing his high ass notes on his instrument. picked up piccolo out of spite for wooyoung because woo likes to play trombone in his ear so now yeosang plays piccolo in woo's ear (best friend goals???). got very lightheaded the first few times he actually played piccolo bc yknow the breathing thing and seonghwa enlisted band flute san to help him out. regrets it because now yeosang causes chaos with san too

mingi: sweet summer child trumpet but not like an asshole trumpet who just blasts whenever he can. genuinely pays attention and feels bad whenever the softer instruments can't hear themselves because he's playing a little too loud, so he works on playing softer. universally adored by everyone in orchestra and band (became an honorary band kid when he became friends with yunho and started learning band trumpet parts for fun too). first chair of course the boy works hard and the conductor Recognizes It