I would like to apologize for promising a chapter 2 and taking so long.
The Chosen was supposed to be 2 or 3 chapters max⊠but now I have a whole world, creatures, antagonists described and now the story will be longer >_<
A village in the woods. Creatures made of shadows. An unwilling contract.
She always felt his presenceâthe weight of his gazeâbut never tried to escape.
He watched, waited... and finally tricked her into giving what he needed to claim her.
Pairing: Yandere Jungkook x Reader
Word count: 4k.
Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Manipulation, Forced Relationship, Kidnapping, Mention of sacrifices, Fear, light smut, will add more for next chapter.
Author's note: Hi there. This is my first fic. I TRIED!
It was supposed to be a one shot, but decided to split in two or three chapters. We'll see.
The supernatural beings were inspired by Wildwood Dancing and Heir to Sevenwaters by the incredible Juliet Marillier.
PART I
Bloodbark, 15th Century.
The village sat like a forgotten relic, nestled between the blackened trees of the endless forest. Its cobbled streets were uneven, worn down by centuries of footsteps and wagon wheels, and the air always carried the thick scent of burned wood, damp moss, and iron.Â
The houses were old, their timber frames warped by time, their roofs sagging under layers of thatch and moss. The narrow alleyways between the buildings were cloaked in shadows, places where light seemed to hesitate, and where villagers hurried past without daring to look too long.
In the market square, merchants sold rough bread, dried meats, and bitter herbs beneath weathered canvas stalls, their voices hushed, their eyes flicking toward the towering Old Tree at the villageâs center.
The Old Tree.
It stood twisted and massive, its bark blackened and scarred with deep, unnatural groovesâmarks that no villager dared explain. No fruits, no leaves, no life. Just a skeletal thing, looming over the square, casting long, claw-like shadows that stretched across the cobblestones.
Long ago, when the land was still young, the massive tree gave enough fruits to feed the village. But on one moonless night, a mark, black as ink, thick as oil, appeared on its trunk. The fruits became rotten, and the villagers felt eyes on them at every single moment. They thought it was a prank of the troublemakers of a neighboring village and paid no mind to the mark.
By morning, the first child was gone, and a message was left behind. The black mark would return during the new moon, a warning that the Night People would need to be fed again.Â
The Night People are not like any creatures they know. They are shadows made flesh, with eyes that see through walls and voices that only the wind can carry. Some say they were once men, and others that they are the very embodiment of darkness.
The villagers do not fight. They do not resist. They leave their offerings at the tree, whispering prayers to gods who do not answer.Â
One mark meant they needed a man.
Two marks meant they required a woman.
And if there was a third mark, smeared across the door or window of a villagerâs home?
It meant the Night People had already chosen.
The villagers would do what was necessary, the only solution is to send a sacrifice into the woods. They resorted to kidnapping outsiders and kept them as possible offerings as a way to preserve the inhabitants.
It was better to give the sacrifice willingly than to risk the creatures taking more.
But once the mark was placed on a home, the family had no choice. No one dares to trick them, for the Night People always know, they are always watching.
Park family home, a day before the new moon.
The farm sat on the villageâs outskirts, where the land bled into the forestâs edge. The house was old, but spacious enough for a family of four. It was the worst option the Park family could find.
Y/N knelt near the chicken coop, scattering feed to those little feathered monsters. The birds pecked greedily, while the girl was impatient to return to her room. She hated being outside.
There it was again.
That feeling.
The weight of unseen eyes pressing against her skin, sinking into her bones like a sickness.
Her fingers twitched around the bag of grain. She didnât turn around. Didnât lift her gaze toward the forest that loomed beyond the crooked fence, where the trees grew too close together and the shadows stretched.
It had been this way since she came to Bloodbark.
A year ago, the flood had taken everythingâher familyâs farm, their animals, the land they had lived for generations. When they arrived in Bloodbark, the villagers welcomed them with wary eyes and whispered warnings, but no one turned them away. Her parents looking defeated, the young woman carrying her little brother in her arms.Â
They could have had the same fate as the people locked in the main barn: the sacrifices, but her father was a strong man and her mother had a way with words. They would become what they call as The Hunters: people who attacks and snatch outsiders.
The villagers gave them land, a place to rebuild.Â
The first time she felt observed was on her second day, while assisting on settling in. Surely, the villagers probably were observing the newcomers as a freak attraction. No one was in sight.
At first, Y/N thought the unease would pass, but every once in a while she felt that feeling again, sometimes accompanied by a scent - something cold, sharp, and sweet all at once. Like the breath of the forest before a storm.
At this point, she doesnât even look around anymore. She knows the rules. The Night People never come out during the day.
âY/N! Hurry up! Dinner is almost ready!â she hears her mother yelling from the window. âBring eggs if you can find any!â
She laughed. A normal family in such an abnormal place.
Y/N focused on gathering the eggs in her apron and walked back to her house.
The kitchen was warm, filled with the rich scent of stew and fresh bread, but it did little to shake the cold that clung to Y/Nâs skin. She set the eggs on the wooden counter, rubbing her arms as she watched her mother move about, ladling thick broth into bowls.
Her father sat at the head of the table, looking out of the window, his brows drawn in quiet focus. Her little brother, Sunwoo, kicked his feet beneath the table, swinging his legs too short to reach the ground. He was humming, oblivious to the unspoken dread hanging in the air.
They all knew what night it was. Hopefully, it would be another month without a demand
Her mother finally sat, smoothing her apron before folding her hands together. âSome stew to keep us warm,â she said, voice light.
The stew tasted goodâher motherâs cooking was always heavenly. Their family laughed, ate, and bickered like alwaysâjust another evening, just another meal.
If she focused on the familiar rhythm of it all, she could almost forget the iron bolts on the doors, the salt dusting the windowsills.
Sunwoo, swinging his legs beneath the table, slurped his soup obnoxiously.
âEat properly,â their father muttered without looking up, splitting bread in his hands.
Sunwoo grinned. âI eat properly.â The three-year-old already had a feisty personality.
Y/N snorted. âYou sound like the neighborâs horse.â
Their mother shot them both a look, though her lips twitched. âSunwoo, donât play with your food. Y/N, be nice.â
âWhy?â Sunwoo asked, still grinning. âHorse eats well.â
Their father sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, but Y/N caught the slight shake of his shouldersâhe was holding back a laugh.
For a moment, the heaviness in the room lifted. The stew filled their stomachs, the warmth of the fire softened the nightâs chill, and the walls of their home felt safe.
Beyond the glow of their home, where the forest swallowed the last light of day, he watched. A tall figure stood at the treeline, leaning against the bark of a tree, arms folded, his posture deceptively relaxed. Patient. Certain. His dark eyes never strayed from the young woman at the table, her laughter slipping through the cracks in the walls, wrapping around him like a whisper.
She looked so at ease. So unaware.
Jungkook exhaled slowly. He had waited a year, observed her every move, every emotion, and invaded almost every dream.
He had waited long enough.
The dream had become familiar, like a secret she had visited many times before.
She stood near the edge of a dark, still lake. The water stretched out before her, reflecting the faint outline of the waning crescent moon, barely visible, a thin sliver of silver light cutting through the sky. The forest behind her stretched on in shadow, its towering trees reaching out like twisted fingers, enclosing her in a world that felt both familiar and terrifyingly unknown.
A house loomed nearby, she already knew the placeâ an intriguing structure, yet strangely inviting. Dark glass windows reflected the faint moonlight, glimmering with an eerie, almost unnatural glow. It was a place meant for creatures like him, where the line between what was real and what was not blurred.
The scent of wet earth lingered in the air as she took a hesitant step towards it. And then, it was thereâthe weight of a hand on her waist, slow and deliberate, as though testing the very limits of her space. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didnât move. She never did. Not here.
A figure emerged, tall, cloaked in darkness. His form was made of shadows, of smoke, shifting in ways that defied the world she knew. His eyesâthough she could never see them clearlyâfelt like they pierced right through her. His very essence seemed to demand her attention, to pull her closer, even as she fought it.
âDid you miss me?â His voice slid through the air like silk, smooth and dangerous.
She didnât answer at first, she knew exactly what would come next⊠and how she enjoyed it everytime. With her silence, the creature pulled her into him. His body, or whatever part of him was tangible, pressed against her. He was warm and cold all at once, like the night itself was alive. She shivered, but not from the chill.
âYou ignored me today once again,â his voice murmured, low and dark against the curve of her neck. The touch of his lips there sent a tingle down her spine, a shudder that made her breath catch. His touch was intoxicating
She shouldnât be here. She shouldnât want this, but she did. His hands slid down her side, claiming her without words.
He pulled her closer, his lips ghosting over her skin. âItâs time for us to be together,â he whispered in her ear, his breath so cold it raised goosebumps on her skin. âGive me your name, and we can end this waiting.â
Y/n felt his fingers trace around her breast, teasing her nipples even with her nightgown separating them. For the past year he has been teasing her body, touching her in places she never thought someone would make her feel good. Always edging, but never completely giving what she needed.
His other hand traced the path of her lower back and moved forward, fingers going straight to her core and teasing her entrance. âGive me what is mine and Iâll give you exactly what you want.â
She gasped, the words dancing on the edge of her tongue. Y/n felt the wetness pooling in the fabric separating his fingers from her core.
His lips were so warm against her skin, making the straps of the nightgown fall down her arms. She wanted to touch him, tangle her fingers into his hair while she delights in the feeling of his mouth in her breast. He made it hard to think, hard to pull away. He felt⊠real in ways she didnât understand.
âYour name. Itâs the only thing you need to give to me and Iâll give you what you seekâ she heard his silky voice, her mind lost in pleasure.Â
âY/NâŠâThe name slipped from her lips before she could stop it. The moment it left her mouth, her breath hitched, her chest tightening in horror, as if the very air around her had turned to ice.
His smileâif it could be called as such âspread, and she felt it deep within her, like a seed planted in the dark soil of her soul.
âNoâŠâ She stumbled backward, her heart racing in panic, fumbling with her flimsy clothing. The weight of her mistake hit her like a crashing wave. âNo, no, noâŠâ
With a sudden force, she pushed him away and turned, running for the house. Her bare feet slapped against the cold earth as she fled, the sound of his footsteps following her, like a silent shadow. She reached the door of the house, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the old wood, throwing it open and slamming it shut behind her.
Y/N shut her eyes closed, trying to disappear if she could. But then, the air grew still. Silent. The shadows no longer moved.
A loud sound woke her up. The clatter of metalâpots, pans. Her motherâs voice called out softly in the house. Y/N blinked, her eyes snapping open. She was back in her room, in her bed, safe. The faint sound of her mother moving about the kitchen lingered in her ears.
It was just a dreamâŠ
The Night People donât come inside.
They never come inside.
But for the first time, Y/N wasnât so sure.
Y/Nâs footsteps echoed softly on the cobbled streets as she made her way to the market. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a rare amber glow over the somber village, but the warmth felt distant. The air was thick with a mix of fear and anticipation, as though the village itself was holding its breath, waiting for something inevitable.
When she arrived at the square, her gaze immediately found the towering Old Tree.
Her heart sank, but only for a moment. Two black marks marred its ancient bark. No one spoke of it directly, but they didnât need to. The marks were a demand. The Night People requested a womanâany woman.
The offering would be one of The Herdâor, as Y/N had always thought of them, the âpeople from the barn.â Outsiders, kept in captivity for this very purpose. It was cruel, but the village had long since made their peace with it. It kept them alive.
For a fleeting second, Y/N felt a bitter taste in her stomach. She would have expected more⊠discomfort, maybe guilt. But that feeling was quickly suppressed, buried beneath something more practical. With the new marks, the village wouldnât have to sacrifice one of their own. She allowed herself a brief, almost imperceptible exhale.
It was sick, but it was survival.
The others had already lost so much. First Soojin, then Minju, and finally Jeonghan. None of them had deserved it. But the world didnât care. They had all been given, or taken, as the Night People demanded. It was just the way it worked.
"Y/N!" Wonheeâs voice sliced through the haze of her thoughts.
Y/N turned to see her friend walking toward her, her face taut, a mixture of exhaustion and relief. She spared a glance at the Old Tree, and Y/N watched her eyes flicker with something like dread before she looked away.
âDid you see?â Wonhee asked, her voice low, almost incredulous. âTwo marks this time.â
Y/N nodded, almost absently, her gaze flicking back to the tree.Â
âYeah,â Y/N replied, her voice emotionless. "I saw."
Wonhee exhaled sharply, shaking her head as she came to stand beside Y/N. Her eyes were wide with something like disbelief, but there was no surprise in Y/Nâs gaze. She had seen this before. "I never thought it would come to this," Wonhee continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N glanced around at the villagers, noting their unease. They were avoiding eye contact, the quiet whispers of their guilt hanging in the air like a fog. They knew what this meant.
âThe Herd... Theyâre people, too,â Wonhee murmured, as if trying to justify the suffering.
Y/N didnât flinch. It wasnât her problem. Not really. "Itâs better this way," she said, her tone flat, almost clinical. "At least itâs not one of us."
Wonhee shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. "It doesnât make it any less cruel. The village canât keep using them like that,â she whispered, her gaze drifting toward the barn. âTheyâre not just cattle, Y/N."
Y/N didnât look at the barn. Her mind was already far ahead. She couldnât afford to feel anything for them. It wasnât just her survivalâit was the villageâs survival. And if the price was cruelty, so be it.
âI know,â she murmured, though the words felt hollow in her mouth. "But... theyâre not the ones we have to protect."
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, but Y/N barely noticed. Her thoughts were already elsewhere, moving through the motions of the day.
Wonhee broke the silence. âWe kept hearing Jeonghanâs mother every night after he was sent into the woods. I donât think Iâll ever be able to forget her wails⊠Her second son in two years," she said quietly, her voice thick with sorrow.
Y/N felt a flicker of something, but it was too fleeting. She had learned not to let herself be affected. There was nothing to be done, after all. âIâm sorry,â she said, not really meaning it. She didnât know what else to say.
The conversation stilled, and no more words were needed. They both knew the truth. The Night People demanded their sacrifices. The village would give them what was required. And that was all there was to it.
"I need to go back to the farm," Y/N said, her voice breaking the stillness. "I have to get back to work and take care of Sunwoo."
Wonhee nodded, her eyes lingering on the tree one last time. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."
Y/N gave her a tight smile, but her mind was already elsewhere as she turned and walked away, heading toward the path leading back to the farm.
The day wore on, the sunlight beginning to dip below the horizon as Y/N worked tirelessly in the fields. The soil beneath her fingers was familiar, as was the rhythmic motion of plucking weeds from the ground. In the small breaks she allowed herself, she would sit on the grass, her younger brother Sunwoo tucked beside her, his small hands picking at the blades of grass as she brushed the sweat from her brow. She would laugh and joke with him, trying to create a normal environment for him.
But it was when the sun began to sink low, casting an amber glow across the land, that the sense of foreboding returned. The air grew cooler, and the shadows of the trees seemed to stretch longer, like the fingers of something waiting.
"Sunwoo?" she called out, scanning the field, her heart giving a quick, erratic thump in her chest when she didnât see him nearby. âSunwoo!â she called again, louder this time, panic rising in her throat.
"Y/N... Y/N, come here!"Â She heard his voice, too clear and too familiar, carried through the air, but there was no sight of her brother. The urgent call of her name drifting from the edge of the woods, where the trees thickened into darkness.
Her heart skipped a beat, unease crawling up her spine. She looked toward the shadowed line of the forest, but the trees remained still, offering no hint of movement.
It wasnât like him to wander off, not this far. Her feet moved of their own accord, urgency propelling her forward. She didnât think, not once, as she ran toward the woods, the trees swaying gently in the evening breeze. The stillness felt⊠unnatural. The shadows, longer now, seemed to press closer around her, as though they were alive, watching, waiting.
Her pulse quickened. She couldnât feel Sunwoo, not anymore. Actually, there was no sound at all. The space ahead of her had become vast, dark, lifeless.
And then, she heard it.
A soft chuckle. A voice, smooth like velvet, but so dark it sent a chill through her. âYouâre finally here,â it said, low and reverberating.
Y/N froze, the blood in her veins running cold. She recognized the voice, the scent in the airâthe smoky, intoxicating fragrance that clung to him, a heady mix of something dangerous. It was him.
She whirled around, her breath catching in her throat. And there he stood, a tall man, face sculpted like an expensive art piece. His dark, penetrating doe eyesâseemingly innocent but filled with an unsettling darknessâlocked onto hers. His figure was fluid, like smoke that had taken shape, his presence suffocating, as though the very forest itself bent to his will.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it. âYouâŠâ she whispered, her legs trembling beneath her. The shadow man. The one from her dreams. He was real.
"Iâm Jungkook, my dear," the man said, a smile curling at the edges of his lips, though it didnât reach his eyes. âI told you it was time to be fully mine.â
The words echoed in her mind, and before she could comprehend the full meaning, her body reacted on instinct. She turned, heart hammering, and ran. She pushed through the trees, branches scraping at her skin, her breath ragged in her throat. But no matter how fast she ran, the woods seemed to stretch endlessly. Every direction led to the same placeâa deepening darkness.
âY/N...â His voice rang out again, closer now, as if he had always been right behind her, waiting. She could feel the weight of his presence, the pull of it.
Suddenly, she stumbled, avoiding falling to the ground. Her chest rose and fell in quick, panicked breaths as she looked around, her eyes wild, searching for some way out. But there was nothing. The shadows had thickened. The forest had turned into a maze that swallowed her at every turn.
Then, she felt him. His presence so close, just a breath away. His hand brushed lightly over her shoulder, the touch like ice. A shiver shot through her body as his voice echoed in her mind.
âIâll take you to our home, Y/N,â he murmured, his breath cool against her ear. âYou already know the place, been there hundreds of times in the past year.â
âNo,â she gasped, trying to twist away from him. âThere was no mark on my home, on my window! You canât take me, Iâm not a chosen oneâ she desperately tried to win her case.
Jungkookâs fingers dug into her wrist, holding her in place with a force she couldnât break. He chuckled darkly, low and slow. âIt doesnât matter whether a mark was left in your family home, Y/N,â he said, his voice smooth and almost tender. âWith or without a mark, you willingly gave me your name. You willingly gave yourself away.â
Her breath hitched as realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. She tried to pull away, but his grip was iron, unyielding.
âNo...â she whispered again, the truth settling like a heavy stone in her chest. âI didnât mean to... I didnât mean toâŠâ
âYou gave me your name, Y/N,â he murmured, his breath cool against her ear. âYou belong to me now.â
Jungkook stepped closer, his smile widening, revealing just how much he relished this moment, like he was savoring being able to finally claim her. The prize heâd been waiting for. His lips parted slightly, a twisted, almost gleeful expression crossing his face as he leaned in, his breath cool against her skin.
âYou can try to escape, Y/N,â he murmured, his voice low and dangerously sweet, like a predator toying with its prey. âBut thereâs no way out. Youâre mine. You always were.â
The dark gleam in his eyes grew, something feral awakening in the depths of them. He leaned in closer, until his breath was a whisper against her ear. âYour name⊠it was the last thing you had to give. And now youâll stay with me forever.â
Her legs trembled beneath her, her body betraying her as she felt a pull toward him, like gravity, an inevitability that made her want to fight even harder. But she knew now. She was bound, markedânot by a visible symbol, but by the act of her own surrender.
