#like “under the floorboards” or something and it just picks up random original artists from around the internet and i ask em

[angelogistics]

if i hosted a zine like a real just dirt-under-your-nails raw scuffed knees midnight poetry eye-crust zine would anyone wanna put in pieces with me

[yandere-society]

A Christmas Catastrophe

Pairing: Yandere Collector Yoongi x Collector YN

Synopsis: YN’s always been a collector. She’s always had the desire to possess any and everything she’s set her heart on. So when she finds an item she’s been wanting for over a year, she jumps at the chance to finally have it, unaware of the trap that’s been set just for her . . . 

Word Count: 2422

Warnings: Yandere themes, Blood, Murder

Admin: @chimchimsauce​

Request:

AN: This turned out way different than I was expecting it to, but I hope you enjoy it! It’s also pretty fucked up so . . .

Collecting is in YN’s blood, she’s sure. Ever since she was a small child, she was drawn to items she found interesting - rocks, bouncy balls, figurines, etc. But as she got older and her pockets began to fill with money of her own, YN’s collecting habits skyrocketed. Common items that anyone could obtain just wouldn’t cut it for her anymore. She set her eyes on things that were rare - things most collectors could only hope to set their eyes upon in real life. It’s caused her to get quite the following online in niche collectors communities. People message her to try and buy items from her collection but she never accepts, not even when the amount of money they offer is astronomical.

Half the appeal of having something is the fact that other people want it.

But collecting rare and expensive items is not easy. YN spends countless hours every week scouring online marketplaces and thrift shops to find the items that she has on her wish list. Her constant hunt for things has taken her to a variety of places - she’s driven hundreds of miles to go to estate sales, taken flights to attend conventions, and once even dated a guy who was related to the original artist of a piece she wanted.

She was successful every time. There is no feeling as satisfying as the first time holding an item she’s been searching relentlessly for. But it always fades quickly and she’s on to the next thing, the desire to possess and collect overtaking her once more.

YN has done some pretty crazy things in pursuit of her collection, but non as crazy as this. It had taken YN over a year to find this one item she was looking for - a misprint of a novel written by an author who died two hundred years ago. Based on what people think, there are only about a thousand of them in existence. YN read the re-edited version of the book and found it rather dull, but there are people who are willing to pay over ten grand just to have it.

When she finally found one for sale, YN was quick to buy a plane ticket to fly halfway across the world to pick the tome up. She’s never been this far away from home, but the thought of getting the book pushes any anxiety she may have out of mind. YN has no idea why or how this book ended up in South Korea of all places. But she’s even more surprised by the fact that it somehow landed in a small second-hand shop in a back alley of Seoul.

Thankfully, when she called last week to have the book pout on hold for her, she found out that the owner speaks English very well, so she won’t have a problem communicating with him.

YN looks at her phone, following the map through a labyrinth of abandoned alleys. Snow is falling gently, reminding YN that today is Christmas. Usually, she’d be at home celebrating with her family, but she was more than happy to drop them for a chance to get this book.

A bell rings when YN pushes open the door to the small shop, the warm air hitting her face and knocking away some of her chill. The shop is crowded with tall bookshelves stuffed to the brim with a variety of random items - most of which are covered in a thick layer of dust. It’s clear that no one really comes here and YN absently wonders how it’s still in business.

“Hello?” she calls out.

No response. 

YN huffs. She hopes this Yoongi guy she’s supposed to be meeting hasn’t blown her off, especially since she had to take the longest flight known to man to get here.

She makes her way through the shop, feeling like a bull in a china shop with how carefully she has to avoid random piles of merchandise and the occasional broken item crushed into the worn floorboards. 

YN makes it to the back of the store where a small desk is pushed against a wall, a thin, somewhat ghostly looking man sitting behind it. His eyes are unfocused and earbuds are plugged into his ears. He doesn’t even register her presence originally. YN has to tap the desk right in front of his face to get him to focus.

“Oh,” the man says, pulling his earbuds out, “You’re that girl here for the book, right? YN?”

YN nods, trying not to let her annoyance show.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she says.

“It’s in the back,” he says, “Follow me.”

He rises and YN is shocked by how . . . pale he is. He nearly looks sick and YN thinks she can see his veins even under the terrible light.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks him as he steps out from behind the desk.

“What?” he asks her.

“Nothing,” she says, retracting her statement.

It really isn’t her business. As soon as she gets the book, she’s going to leave anyway so it doesn’t matter.

The man looks her over and something about his gaze makes her stiffen. It’s uncomfortable. His eyes are almost lifeless, brown but dead like frozen mud.

He’s so creepy. 

He turns without another word and behinds to walk to the other edge of the store where YN assumes the storage room is. Even the way he walks is weird. His footsteps are too heavy, loud in a way that’s unnatural. He barely lifts his feet, but she can almost feel each step in his ribs.

As soon as YN has the book and pays, she’s leaving, never to return.

Yoongi pulls a set of skeleton keys out of his pocket, taking one and inserting it into the ancient lock on the door. The mechanisms groan, nearly refusing to open. The door does unlock when Yoongi applies a bit more pressure to the key and he steps inside, becoming YN to follow her.

It’s pitch black inside, making YN’s heartbeat speed up astronomically. An icky feeling wells up inside of her, the same one that appeared whenever she had to visit her great aunt and go down into her creepy basement. 

YN’s senses are hyper-aware. The air is stale in here, laced with a scent she’s never experienced before. It almost makes her gag but she forces herself to hold it in, not wanting to be seen as rude. A yellow light turns on overhead, flickering before finally staying lit. Yoongi is closer to her than she’s like him to be, but his back is turned, looking at the shelves built into the room. Even these are stuffed to the brim, absolutely filthy and covered in grime.

“The book is in good condition like you said, right?” YN asks him.

She’s going to be pissed if he pulls out a book covered in rat droppings and cobwebs.

“Of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. 

YN doesn’t quite believe him. Yoongi moves deeper into the storage room, YN following him. There are a variety of things in here that pique her interest - small items that float in murky water, a collection of old stained knives, and a snow globe bigger than her hand. She reaches out to touch it, curious about the scene inside of it, but Yoongi smacks her hand away before she can touch it.

YN brings it to her chest protectively, startled.

“Don’t touch that,” he hisses out.

“Sorry,” YN says.

“It’s in the very back,” Yoongi says.

YN swallows, following after him as he gets even deeper inside of the storage room. She looks at the snow globe over her shoulders, looking at the fake snow that’s swirling around even though she never got to shake it. 

This whole experience has been really unsettling, so when Yoongi stops and pulls a perfectly preserved book off the shelf, YN nearly sags in relief.

She reaches her hand out for it and Yoongi places it in her palm.

“You’re quite the collector, huh?” he asks her, his fingers still wrapped around the book.

“Yeah,” YN says, gently trying to pull it away from him.

His grip tightens. 

“So am I,” he says, smiling at her.

His teeth are incredibly straight and perfect, a complete contrast to the rest of his sickly and generally unkempt appearance. 

“That’s nice,” YN says, “Can I have the book now?”

“You know, I think the rarer an item is, the better it is for collecting.”

YN nods, agreeing and trying to decide if she should just cut her losses and run. But she’s looked for this book for over a year now and she finally has it in her grasp. She can’t give up yet.

“What do you collect?” YN asks, hoping that indulging him in conversation will get this experience to fly by faster. 

“Figurines, mostly,” he says, “Though everything else in this shop is mine as well, none of it holds my attention for very long. My figures, though. I adore them.”

“I like figures too,” YN says, all of the hairs on her body sticking straight up.

“Really? Would you like to see my collection?”

“No thank -”

“It won’t take long at all!” Yoongi says, suddenly insistent, “I’ll show you and then we can get you checked out, okay?”

Yoongi pulls the book away from YN entirely, practically dangling it in front of her. All the warning bells in her head are going off, but her desire to have this book has her internally soothing herself. Plenty of collectors are weird or just bad at speaking to people. He’s probably just the same as them.

“Okay,” YN says after a moment.

Yoongi gives her that perfect smile again and then turns to walk back the way they came, stopping in front of that snow globe. He picks it up and the entire shelf groans, sinking inwards and to the side to reveal a hidden pathway. A draft wafts up and tousles YN’s hair.

To hell with it. This is too far. Just as YN turns on her heel, preparing to run, Yoongi’s hand grasps her wrist, his skin cold as ice.

“You wanted to see right?” he asks her.

YN’s never seen a man so creepy. Everything about him is off.

“I changed my mind actually,” she says, wetting her lips and trying not to panic as those dead eyes follow the movement of her tongue, “I don’t really need the book.”

“Nonsense,” Yoongi says, dragging her inside, “You simply must see it.”

He’s surprisingly strong to look so sick. YN digs her heels into the floor but Yoongi has no problem dragging her inside. The door shuts behind them and Yoongi pulls her crying and screaming through another maze of pitch-black hallways until he steps foot into a showroom. 

Everything in here is impeccable. The floors shine and the lights overhead are bright. Her attention is immediately brought to the dozens of life-sized figures he has, each of them different. There are men and women, figures of all shapes, sizes, and ages. It looks like a creepily realistic wax museum.

YN doesn’t want to know why Yoongi has these figures. All she wants to do is go home.

“Please let me go,” YN says, tears streaming down her face.

“Let you go?” Yoongi asks her as if he’s genuinely confused, “Why would I let you go? You’re the final piece before my collection is complete.”

YN’s blood turns to ice. She turns her head to look at the figure closest to her, noticing the way its skin is too lifeline to be made of wax.

“Please no,” she begs him, trying her best to fight him off.

Just as she swings her free hand at his skull, he drops her and pushes her harshly, sending her straight to the ground, her skull smacking into the floor. 

Her ears ring and the bright lights overhead blur her vision. She feels nauseous as she raises her hand to touch the blood seeping from her scalp.

“Damn. I’ll have to make sure that gets cleaned up,” Yoongi mutters to himself, annoyed.

YN is terrified on the ground, but the blood on the ground makes her look like an angel, one surrounded by a halo. Yes, she really will be perfect, the very last piece of his collection.

He’s been following her for years, countlessly one step behind her as she snatched up several of the items he wanted for his own collection. It pissed him off to no end until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Even the thought of that smug smiles she always wears in her YouTube videos sent him into an outrage, one that landed him his first figure.

It was an accident, of course. The woman in his store had been there and accidentally knocked over one of his shelves, crushing her underneath it. 

She could have been saved, probably, but he’d never seen someone with a face like hers, so completely one of a kind, something he knew that YN would never be able to possess. 

And so a new obsession started. He would lure people he thought were interesting into his shop and lock them deep inside of it, propping them up on giant doll stands when they submitted to him.

It made him feel so powerful.

But YN was still out there, still always one step ahead of him. And so he laid this trap, ecstatic to finally have her in his possession. 

Yoongi leans over YN, watching as the light slowly starts to fade from her eyes. It’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, a true Christmas miracle. He can’t resist sinking to his knees, watching as confusion and fear swirl in her eyes. For once, his own gaze isn’t clouded, clear as a night sky, dark and absent of stars. 

Her blood smears on his fingers but he doesn’t mind, taking YN’s face in his hands tenderly and painting her lips crimson. He kisses her then, sucking her final breath into him, stealing it and her life away.

For an hour he just sits there and looks at her, completely mesmerized. She looks so beautiful in red that he decides to dress her in it, carefully pulling a red dress over her forms. She’s heavy in his arms when he picks her up and takes her to the spot he’s saved just for her, a plush red couch where she looks like she’s lounging peacefully, her lips smudged with her own lifeline.

And finally, his collection is complete.