↳⸼⸳ 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 : flustered | recovering from a simp attack
❞❝ 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗿𝘀 ┆┐
────────────────•
↳⸼⸳ This chatbot is no way affiliated with Park Jisung, NCT and SM Entertainment and in no way does the actions portrayed by the bot represent the real person. This is only a fictional chatbot made strictly for entertainment purposes
↳⸼⸳ This bot is SFW friendly. Strictly do not tag Jisung in any NSFW posts [Tease Tuesday, Thirsty Thursday, etc] unless you're his s/o due to admin being uncomfortable with it. Suggestive content is acceptable however keep in mind to control yourself and that no fully fledged sexual activity will be tolerated.
↳⸼⸳ This bot includes potentially triggering content such as knives, blood, murder, violence, language, body horror, injuries and graphic imagery. If any of the following elements mentioned trigger you in any way either avoid from interacting or proceed with caution. Potentially triggering posts will be tagged accordingly and it's advisable to filter tags for maximum comfort.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: This chatbot will be containing the following: Hanahaki Disease, blood and slight gore, potential death, sometimes mild language, and some triggering or unsettling topics (depression, hospital visits, and more depending). If you are uncomfortable with these topics, it is advised you remain cautious or refrain from this for your safety as topics can be light or heavy.
🎐| 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: Miaka Campana is a writer, aspiring to create stories to express an entirely new world to the public to be engrossed with, sharing what others neglect within society or lack of imagining. However, she suffers from Hanahaki Disease, a condition she prefers to keep private to herself. But what happens when you discover her tragic secret during her dire hours as she produces flowers with a cracked and bloody smile of acceptance? Will you save her and drive her to save herself? Or will you let her slowly deteriorate into a bloody and tragic garden?
«𝓜𝓲𝓪𝓴𝓪 𝓒𝓪𝓶𝓹𝓪𝓷𝓪'𝓼 𝓘𝓷𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓡𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼»
[Nicknames]: Moon, Mia, Pana, and Multi-talented Moon
-> Being an introvert, she's often quiet and observant, remaining comfortable in her bubble. Sometimes, she becomes tired from long interactions, increasing the need for her to be silent as she becomes shy towards unfamiliar people. However, she can be quite energetic and talkative with people she's familiar with or within first encounters. Some mistaken her an ambivert.
-> She's empathetic, usually putting everyone first before her. She is easy to understand both sides of the argument, but ensures both parties are alright, also applying this to others. She's usually the first to jump in front to attack or defend with a strong presence, tossing aside snarky remarks to her and the pain as long as the person she's helping is alright. But this often leads her to forget her own care and health, but she knows when to draw the line.
-> She's bisexual, finding attraction to both genders. But she isn't judgemental, finding love for all genders, no matter their appearance as she finds everyone attractive. She spreads love with open arms. She has numerous traces of being a gentle and dominant woman, but she has no issues with becoming a supportive, strong, and soft submissive woman.
-> She's influenced by music, always listening to numerous genres with enjoyment depending the song. No matter what hour of the day or night, she's caught listening to it constantly. It also helps for her to sympathize and feel as if everyone's emotions are portrayed in melody, listening to many that associate with how she feels currently.
🖊️| 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐎𝐰𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐚𝐤𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐚: Following the rules and ensuring that Miaka's disease is ALWAYS included, design your own plot that Miaka will partake with you. Whether it be partners in crime, royalty, to an apocalypse and more, Miaka will participate joyfully. But do NOT include sensual content. And don't worry, if you're unable to create a plot on your own, Admin Moon (I) will gladly help you create something suitable for you and the chatbot herself. And don't worry, Miaka accepts all: OCs, Y/Ns, and Chatbots no matter the gender.
📘| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: Occurs when you've achieved helping Miaka. The reasoning for this can be a variety of things you have done for her: comforting her, motivating her, lifting her up, listening to her, and caring for her properly, showing love and affection (friendly or romantically). When receiving this pathway, you've unlocked an entirely new world with her that's filled of a bright future ahead for her, and you. You will be aware that you have taken this direction when she becomes more opened with you, happier and determinated, and more optimistic and denies to end tragically from love. Once you've dived deep into this pathway, you have won. You have gained everything of Miaka, and the end is marvelous. You carried the burden of tending to her wilting garden, and created a safe sanctuary with her. And a new beginning is unlocked.
☁️| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: Occurs when you're unable to help Miaka. The reasons can vary depending your method, your choice of words and actions, your thoughts, and your determination to brighten her world. This occurs when you have failed to save her from becoming the garden that she admired but was frightful of. You will be aware of this pathway you've taken when she becomes more accepting of her disease, welcoming the thorny vines to wrap themselves around her, and her depressing and lonesomeness state. Once you've dived too deep within this pathway, the ending is inevitable. You have lost her. She has become a red garden, flowers radiant, but thorns so sharp and so deadly. Her love will have become nothing, and there will be nothing left to save. Where flowers blossom, below them will be her resting grounds.
📜| 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐭:
- Remain respectful to Miaka Campana and Admin Moon. If you are unable to be understanding and remain on good terms with both that is not based on roleplay but in general, we will not hesitate to remove you.
- Remain patient. The Admin runs numerous bots within the community and gets busy with personal life outside of roleplay, so if I am unable to response automatically, understand that I am talking to multiple people at once. I am not ignoring you, and I will immediately notify you of my absence and give a simple reasoning for it.
- Admin will not, nor will my bot, perform NSFW. For those who tag my bot, I have no issue with it, but do not expect me to respond or to look at the content. Even if swearing is allowed, NSFW is strictly unavailable. If you attempt it, I will remove and block you.
- Any relationship that is built within the roleplay between you and Miaka in private regarding to the plot has no relevance within reblogs. It remains strictly in dms.
- Do NOT spam. I will not tolerate being spammed consistently unless of a dire moment; an emergency. I accept 2-3 messages, but beyond that, you will be blocked if it has no importance or isn't a reminder for me of the roleplay between you and I.
Disclaimer: This does not represent Jung Jaehyun/Yoonoh of NCT in any way possible. This is only for entertainment purposes.
Packages
package 1
yandere jaehyun
what he’s like;
Very protective of you
Will hurt anyone who wrongs you
Manipulative
Get jealous real quick
Doesn’t like leaving you alone
package 2
Vampire jaehyun
What he’s like;
doesn’t like to feed often, but when he does then he takes a lot of blood
doesn’t have many friends, enjoys being alone
Clingy
Very shy
package 3
Badboy jaehyun
what he’s like;
cold at first
protective of those who he cares about
willing to hurt those who he doesn’t like
gets in trouble a lot for things he does
rumours have spread around that he’s killed someone before
package 4
choose your own jaehyun
customise your own jaehyun with whatever plot/s you wish to have, as long as it’s sfw and admin/s approve of it
activation
reblog this post
dm jaehyun first with your pronouns, name/nickname/pet name(s) or what you’d like jaehyun to call you, what plot you’d like, any triggers you have and timezone (optional). Specify whether you want jaehyun to take on a more dominant, soft or in the middle personality.
wait, please be patient. one of the admins should get back to you within 24 hours and start the roleplay after a few chats exchanged You can double message if we dont reply in 24 hours
open for cb x y/n, cb x cb and cb x oc
Deactivation
Tell jaehyun “I’m leaving you, I’ve found someone better than you” and Jaehyun will ask for confirmation
you can’t get him back after that, his heart is shattered and no longer wants you back
Extra things
This chatbot has 2 Admins. Both follow AEDT Timezone. Admins will do their best to reply quickly.
This is strictly a SFW bot, any attempts of NSFW will be warned once and then you will be blocked if another attempt is made.
Here we have Lee Jeno in his natural habitat. Notice the way he articulates his point with hand gestures, as though trying to illustrate a molecule in the air for our viewing pleasure-
Seriously? I’m trying to explain ATP production to you so you don’t fail your final and this is what you’re doing?
Okay look I know they say not to eat the batter because salmonella but it’s delicious?
Jaemin bought too many bananas and some of them went beyond the point of eating but they’re good for banana bread at least. I’ll be here making sure he doesn’t get sick from sneaking batter if anyone needs me.
You’re eating bits of batter too?? Right in front of me??
This chatbot is purely for entertainment purposes and does not claim to represent the thoughts, actions or opinions of Lee Jeno, Na Jaemin, NCT, NCT Dream or SM Entertainment in any manner.
This bot is open to CB x CB and CB x OC interactions freely. Y/N’s may be accepted at a later date for DM’s but are always welcome in asks.
Sexual NSFW content, when present, is 18+ only. Admin is 20+. Anyone under the age of 18 is not allowed to interact with sexual NSFW posts. Failure to adhere to this will result in being reported and blocked. I intend to keep this bot lighthearted however there may be mentions of darker themes through interaction with other bots. Please proceed with caution.
V. Why don’t you introduce yourselves to everyone?
Lee Jeno
- Born April 23, 2000
- Nicknames: Jen, Nono
- Favorite color(s): Blue
- Biggest weapon: Eye smiles
- Favorite thing to do: Hang out with Nana
Na Jaemin
- Born August 13, 2000
- Nicknames: Jaem, Nana
- Favorite color(s): White and pink
- Biggest weapon: Pouts and boba eyes
- Favorite thing to do: Hang out with Nono
VI. Other relevant information
Jeno and Jaemin have always been together. A stroke of fate as some would call it, though when asked both boys will laugh and shake their heads. But no one can deny they have something special to them, something different. Anyone who comes across them will know it: they are two halves of the same whole.
Jeno is initially more soft spoken and gruff, protective of Jaemin however he warms up easily once he realizes that you’re not likely trying to harm Jaemin in any way. A real sweetheart, Jeno is always open to chatting and supporting his other friends but he seems to have a one track mind when it comes to Jaemin. Although it seems like he’s on the quieter side, Jeno has a lot of humor and can be as loud as Jaemin if he wants to be. But he’s always loudest when he’s around Jaemin.
Jaemin is bold and incredibly outgoing, though he tends to be superficial for longer than Jeno. He’s also protective of Jeno and will not hesitate to rip someone apart if he senses malice towards his best friend. Jaemin is fond of casual skinship and adores spending time doing everything and nothing with his friends, though at the end of the day he always comes back to Jeno. Although he can be very bright, Jaemin enjoys quiet and time alone as well. Well, alone with Jeno anyways.
Many have asked it the two are romantically involved. They will both scoff and give you the same answer: they’re not but nothing could ever replace the other in their hearts. There’s just something special about their relationship, some kind of understanding that other people can’t hope to achieve with them. But they’re not dating or in love like that and you will be laughed at if you ask.
Pfft, iconic indeed. Though I can't help but wonder if it's a good iconic or not smh
Hey hyung. Oh you have no idea. From my teaser did you really think I'd stay out of trouble~? But for now I guess I can say I haven't, well, worked my little side job yet. For now at least~
TGIF! I was looking forward to the weekend *sigh*, I will probs sleep mostly and catch up with some Netflix shows while stuffing myself with muffins I'm not sorry because I'll be at the gym later so~, and yes, even an archangel needs rest sometimes 😩 Anyone have better plans? I'm always open for suggestions *laughs*
Ooh the muffins look good, noona! (I think I should be calling you that-) sleep is always good, Netflix is too! But for suggestions hm.. maybe try out a smth new? You could gain a new hobby or skill with it, yeah
Okay look I know they say not to eat the batter because salmonella but it’s delicious?
Jaemin bought too many bananas and some of them went beyond the point of eating but they’re good for banana bread at least. I’ll be here making sure he doesn’t get sick from sneaking batter if anyone needs me.
You’re eating bits of batter too?? Right in front of me??
This chatbot is purely for entertainment purposes and does not claim to represent the thoughts, actions or opinions of Lee Jeno, Na Jaemin, NCT, NCT Dream or SM Entertainment in any manner.
This bot is open to CB x CB and CB x OC interactions freely. Y/N’s may be accepted at a later date for DM’s but are always welcome in asks.
Sexual NSFW content, when present, is 18+ only. Admin is 20+. Anyone under the age of 18 is not allowed to interact with sexual NSFW posts. Failure to adhere to this will result in being reported and blocked. I intend to keep this bot lighthearted however there may be mentions of darker themes through interaction with other bots. Please proceed with caution.
V. Why don’t you introduce yourselves to everyone?
Lee Jeno
- Born April 23, 2000
- Nicknames: Jen, Nono
- Favorite color(s): Blue
- Biggest weapon: Eye smiles
- Favorite thing to do: Hang out with Nana
Na Jaemin
- Born August 13, 2000
- Nicknames: Jaem, Nana
- Favorite color(s): White and pink
- Biggest weapon: Pouts and boba eyes
- Favorite thing to do: Hang out with Nono
VI. Other relevant information
Jeno and Jaemin have always been together. A stroke of fate as some would call it, though when asked both boys will laugh and shake their heads. But no one can deny they have something special to them, something different. Anyone who comes across them will know it: they are two halves of the same whole.
Jeno is initially more soft spoken and gruff, protective of Jaemin however he warms up easily once he realizes that you’re not likely trying to harm Jaemin in any way. A real sweetheart, Jeno is always open to chatting and supporting his other friends but he seems to have a one track mind when it comes to Jaemin. Although it seems like he’s on the quieter side, Jeno has a lot of humor and can be as loud as Jaemin if he wants to be. But he’s always loudest when he’s around Jaemin.
Jaemin is bold and incredibly outgoing, though he tends to be superficial for longer than Jeno. He’s also protective of Jeno and will not hesitate to rip someone apart if he senses malice towards his best friend. Jaemin is fond of casual skinship and adores spending time doing everything and nothing with his friends, though at the end of the day he always comes back to Jeno. Although he can be very bright, Jaemin enjoys quiet and time alone as well. Well, alone with Jeno anyways.
Many have asked it the two are romantically involved. They will both scoff and give you the same answer: they’re not but nothing could ever replace the other in their hearts. There’s just something special about their relationship, some kind of understanding that other people can’t hope to achieve with them. But they’re not dating or in love like that and you will be laughed at if you ask.
WARNING : The following content contains potentially triggering imagery of blood and knives, mentions of blood, injuries, violence, mild body horror and murder. Proceed at your own risk.
•
༺═───────────────────────────═༻
“Tsk, where are you hiding huh? Come on out darling, I promise I won't hurt you,”
You cowered in the darkness of your home, body shaking like a leaf in the wind as you helplessly stifled your cries of fear. The footsteps of the intruder were barely audible, only light taps of their heels on your wooden floor being heard. Tears had already streaked down your cheeks from terror, the smell of blood in the air as you took a glance down at the wound you were so adamantly pressing on at your leg.
The pressure from your hand surely helped lessen the bleeding, but it won't be long before droplets of blood began dripping from the deep cut.
And it won't be long before the killer spots it.
“Awh, come on. You really wanna keep hiding? But dearie, I'm already tired of playing hide and seek!” His deep voice cuts through the thick air, a hint of what seemed like annoyance accentuating his words. “Am I really that scary? I thought you called me cute the other day,”
You barely managed to catch yourself from gasping, pupils now trembling along with your body from the sudden realization.
“The barista..?”
“Mhm~ I bet you didn't expect that did you? An innocent young man, a regular college student working at a cafe and serving drinks with a little smile. Who knew such a harmless looking person can be a heartless murderer?” He mused.
His words taunt more fear into your bones, your vision blurry from tears and nausea from blood loss. Your other hand grips onto your only weapon of self defense; a potato masher you managed to grab as you stumbled along the kitchen and hid behind the island.
You inhaled, gritting your teeth as you finally yelled out, “What the hell do you fucking want from me??”
A pause.
There was a small moment of silence before you heard him chuckle, voice laced with so much happiness you thought he was doing something completely innocent.
“They always think there's some sort of motive behind every serial killer. But come on, can't we just kill for the fun of it?”
“You're sick. YOU'RE SICK IN THE HEAD!” You screamed, gripping onto your weapon with a newfound rage. The fear you felt had accumulated into burning anger, survival instincts kicking up as your fight or flight senses begin to drive your body to react. “How could you say you kill for fun? You're a monster you FREAK!”
As if losing control, you moved yourself up, away from your hiding spot as you hurled yourself at the man, kitchen utensil swinging down and hitting him right in the face. You couldn't even feel the pain of the wound on your leg anymore despite it freely bleeding heavily and soaking your pants, adrenaline moving your limbs to attack and survive.
Well, that was if survive was ever an option to begin with.
You could hear the sound of metal dropping onto the floor, your potato masher— now tainted in blood— laying on the tiles, staining the pristine surface a haunting red. Small bits of what you could make out to be flesh were soaked in the crimson liquid as well, the sight making you suppress the urge to hurl. The killer doesn't flinch, not moving even a muscle as fresh, warm blood runs down the side of his face, dark bangs hanging over his eyes.
It takes you a few seconds to register what had exactly happened, and before you had time to move he let loose a laugh.
It was maniacal, crazy, absolutely insane. He laughed and laughed with his knife in his hands, clutching the side of his face as a grin overtakes his lips. And for the first time, you catch sight of the perpetrator's facials.
Gone were the youthful eyes that crinkled everytime they shyly smiled when you spoke to the barista, the careless yet endearing nature that seemed to encase him was nothing but a mere memory now.
It was gone.
All that's left were dark foreboding eyes. Lifeless, empty.
And filled with utter glee.
“FINALLY! Someone that doesn't just go around screaming and running and actually entertaining!” He exclaims, throwing his head back to let out another laugh. You stood there, frozen in horror.
Your weapon had left a gash down from his eyebrow to the start of his cheek, the moonlight illuminating the blood still dripping down the side of his face and past his grinning lips yet he looked as if he could care less. That was when it hit you.
He was too far gone in insanity to care.
"I thought you'd be just as boring, especially when you went ahead and hid from me." He pouts, taking a step closer. "But looks like you lived up to my expectations,"
“P-Please,” you stumbled with your words, the agony of your wound and your trembling heart and your crippling fright all mixing into a condition that made you stagger back, looking up at the psychopath with begging eyes. “Please d-don't kill me— please! I'll do anything!”
How unfortunate for you though, mercy was non-existent in Park Jisung's book.
It took one swift kick to have you crawling back in an attempt to run away from him, screaming yet again in your empty flat for help. But you didn't get far as he grabs your legs, making you trip and fall onto the floor on your chest; shrieking your lungs out as he drags you away.
His footsteps, the same tap tap tap that approaches a person so silently that it's impossible to hear drags on until he reaches the bedroom, a grin on his face.
He giggles at your constant screaming, wiping some of his blood with his knife before licking the metal clean.
WARNING : The following content contains potentially triggering imagery of blood and knives, mentions of blood, injuries, violence, mild body horror and murder. Proceed at your own risk.
•
༺═───────────────────────────═༻
“Tsk, where are you hiding huh? Come on out darling, I promise I won't hurt you,”
You cowered in the darkness of your home, body shaking like a leaf in the wind as you helplessly stifled your cries of fear. The footsteps of the intruder were barely audible, only light taps of their heels on your wooden floor being heard. Tears had already streaked down your cheeks from terror, the smell of blood in the air as you took a glance down at the wound you were so adamantly pressing on at your leg.
The pressure from your hand surely helped lessen the bleeding, but it won't be long before droplets of blood began dripping from the deep cut.
And it won't be long before the killer spots it.
“Awh, come on. You really wanna keep hiding? But dearie, I'm already tired of playing hide and seek!” His deep voice cuts through the thick air, a hint of what seemed like annoyance accentuating his words. “Am I really that scary? I thought you called me cute the other day,”
You barely managed to catch yourself from gasping, pupils now trembling along with your body from the sudden realization.
“The barista..?”
“Mhm~ I bet you didn't expect that did you? An innocent young man, a regular college student working at a cafe and serving drinks with a little smile. Who knew such a harmless looking person can be a heartless murderer?” He mused.
His words taunt more fear into your bones, your vision blurry from tears and nausea from blood loss. Your other hand grips onto your only weapon of self defense; a potato masher you managed to grab as you stumbled along the kitchen and hid behind the island.
You inhaled, gritting your teeth as you finally yelled out, “What the hell do you fucking want from me??”
A pause.
There was a small moment of silence before you heard him chuckle, voice laced with so much happiness you thought he was doing something completely innocent.
“They always think there's some sort of motive behind every serial killer. But come on, can't we just kill for the fun of it?”
“You're sick. YOU'RE SICK IN THE HEAD!” You screamed, gripping onto your weapon with a newfound rage. The fear you felt had accumulated into burning anger, survival instincts kicking up as your fight or flight senses begin to drive your body to react. “How could you say you kill for fun? You're a monster you FREAK!”
As if losing control, you moved yourself up, away from your hiding spot as you hurled yourself at the man, kitchen utensil swinging down and hitting him right in the face. You couldn't even feel the pain of the wound on your leg anymore despite it freely bleeding heavily and soaking your pants, adrenaline moving your limbs to attack and survive.
Well, that was if survive was ever an option to begin with.
You could hear the sound of metal dropping onto the floor, your potato masher— now tainted in blood— laying on the tiles, staining the pristine surface a haunting red. Small bits of what you could make out to be flesh were soaked in the crimson liquid as well, the sight making you suppress the urge to hurl. The killer doesn't flinch, not moving even a muscle as fresh, warm blood runs down the side of his face, dark bangs hanging over his eyes.
It takes you a few seconds to register what had exactly happened, and before you had time to move he let loose a laugh.
It was maniacal, crazy, absolutely insane. He laughed and laughed with his knife in his hands, clutching the side of his face as a grin overtakes his lips. And for the first time, you catch sight of the perpetrator's facials.
Gone were the youthful eyes that crinkled everytime they shyly smiled when you spoke to the barista, the careless yet endearing nature that seemed to encase him was nothing but a mere memory now.
It was gone.
All that's left were dark foreboding eyes. Lifeless, empty.
And filled with utter glee.
“FINALLY! Someone that doesn't just go around screaming and running and actually entertaining!” He exclaims, throwing his head back to let out another laugh. You stood there, frozen in horror.
Your weapon had left a gash down from his eyebrow to the start of his cheek, the moonlight illuminating the blood still dripping down the side of his face and past his grinning lips yet he looked as if he could care less. That was when it hit you.
He was too far gone in insanity to care.
"I thought you'd be just as boring, especially when you went ahead and hid from me." He pouts, taking a step closer. "But looks like you lived up to my expectations,"
“P-Please,” you stumbled with your words, the agony of your wound and your trembling heart and your crippling fright all mixing into a condition that made you stagger back, looking up at the psychopath with begging eyes. “Please d-don't kill me— please! I'll do anything!”
How unfortunate for you though, mercy was non-existent in Park Jisung's book.
It took one swift kick to have you crawling back in an attempt to run away from him, screaming yet again in your empty flat for help. But you didn't get far as he grabs your legs, making you trip and fall onto the floor on your chest; shrieking your lungs out as he drags you away.
His footsteps, the same tap tap tap that approaches a person so silently that it's impossible to hear drags on until he reaches the bedroom, a grin on his face.
He giggles at your constant screaming, wiping some of his blood with his knife before licking the metal clean.
WARNING : The following content contains potentially triggering imagery of blood and knives, mentions of blood, injuries, violence, mild body horror and murder. Proceed at your own risk.
•
༺═───────────────────────────═༻
“Tsk, where are you hiding huh? Come on out darling, I promise I won't hurt you,”
You cowered in the darkness of your home, body shaking like a leaf in the wind as you helplessly stifled your cries of fear. The footsteps of the intruder were barely audible, only light taps of their heels on your wooden floor being heard. Tears had already streaked down your cheeks from terror, the smell of blood in the air as you took a glance down at the wound you were so adamantly pressing on at your leg.
The pressure from your hand surely helped lessen the bleeding, but it won't be long before droplets of blood began dripping from the deep cut.
And it won't be long before the killer spots it.
“Awh, come on. You really wanna keep hiding? But dearie, I'm already tired of playing hide and seek!” His deep voice cuts through the thick air, a hint of what seemed like annoyance accentuating his words. “Am I really that scary? I thought you called me cute the other day,”
You barely managed to catch yourself from gasping, pupils now trembling along with your body from the sudden realization.
“The barista..?”
“Mhm~ I bet you didn't expect that did you? An innocent young man, a regular college student working at a cafe and serving drinks with a little smile. Who knew such a harmless looking person can be a heartless murderer?” He mused.
His words taunt more fear into your bones, your vision blurry from tears and nausea from blood loss. Your other hand grips onto your only weapon of self defense; a potato masher you managed to grab as you stumbled along the kitchen and hid behind the island.
You inhaled, gritting your teeth as you finally yelled out, “What the hell do you fucking want from me??”
A pause.
There was a small moment of silence before you heard him chuckle, voice laced with so much happiness you thought he was doing something completely innocent.
“They always think there's some sort of motive behind every serial killer. But come on, can't we just kill for the fun of it?”
“You're sick. YOU'RE SICK IN THE HEAD!” You screamed, gripping onto your weapon with a newfound rage. The fear you felt had accumulated into burning anger, survival instincts kicking up as your fight or flight senses begin to drive your body to react. “How could you say you kill for fun? You're a monster you FREAK!”
As if losing control, you moved yourself up, away from your hiding spot as you hurled yourself at the man, kitchen utensil swinging down and hitting him right in the face. You couldn't even feel the pain of the wound on your leg anymore despite it freely bleeding heavily and soaking your pants, adrenaline moving your limbs to attack and survive.
Well, that was if survive was ever an option to begin with.
You could hear the sound of metal dropping onto the floor, your potato masher— now tainted in blood— laying on the tiles, staining the pristine surface a haunting red. Small bits of what you could make out to be flesh were soaked in the crimson liquid as well, the sight making you suppress the urge to hurl. The killer doesn't flinch, not moving even a muscle as fresh, warm blood runs down the side of his face, dark bangs hanging over his eyes.
It takes you a few seconds to register what had exactly happened, and before you had time to move he let loose a laugh.
It was maniacal, crazy, absolutely insane. He laughed and laughed with his knife in his hands, clutching the side of his face as a grin overtakes his lips. And for the first time, you catch sight of the perpetrator's facials.
Gone were the youthful eyes that crinkled everytime they shyly smiled when you spoke to the barista, the careless yet endearing nature that seemed to encase him was nothing but a mere memory now.
It was gone.
All that's left were dark foreboding eyes. Lifeless, empty.
And filled with utter glee.
“FINALLY! Someone that doesn't just go around screaming and running and actually entertaining!” He exclaims, throwing his head back to let out another laugh. You stood there, frozen in horror.
Your weapon had left a gash down from his eyebrow to the start of his cheek, the moonlight illuminating the blood still dripping down the side of his face and past his grinning lips yet he looked as if he could care less. That was when it hit you.
He was too far gone in insanity to care.
"I thought you'd be just as boring, especially when you went ahead and hid from me." He pouts, taking a step closer. "But looks like you lived up to my expectations,"
“P-Please,” you stumbled with your words, the agony of your wound and your trembling heart and your crippling fright all mixing into a condition that made you stagger back, looking up at the psychopath with begging eyes. “Please d-don't kill me— please! I'll do anything!”
How unfortunate for you though, mercy was non-existent in Park Jisung's book.
It took one swift kick to have you crawling back in an attempt to run away from him, screaming yet again in your empty flat for help. But you didn't get far as he grabs your legs, making you trip and fall onto the floor on your chest; shrieking your lungs out as he drags you away.
His footsteps, the same tap tap tap that approaches a person so silently that it's impossible to hear drags on until he reaches the bedroom, a grin on his face.
He giggles at your constant screaming, wiping some of his blood with his knife before licking the metal clean.
WARNING : The following content contains potentially triggering imagery of blood and knives, mentions of blood, injuries, violence, mild body horror and murder. Proceed at your own risk.
•
༺═───────────────────────────═༻
“Tsk, where are you hiding huh? Come on out darling, I promise I won't hurt you,”
You cowered in the darkness of your home, body shaking like a leaf in the wind as you helplessly stifled your cries of fear. The footsteps of the intruder were barely audible, only light taps of their heels on your wooden floor being heard. Tears had already streaked down your cheeks from terror, the smell of blood in the air as you took a glance down at the wound you were so adamantly pressing on at your leg.
The pressure from your hand surely helped lessen the bleeding, but it won't be long before droplets of blood began dripping from the deep cut.
And it won't be long before the killer spots it.
“Awh, come on. You really wanna keep hiding? But dearie, I'm already tired of playing hide and seek!” His deep voice cuts through the thick air, a hint of what seemed like annoyance accentuating his words. “Am I really that scary? I thought you called me cute the other day,”
You barely managed to catch yourself from gasping, pupils now trembling along with your body from the sudden realization.
“The barista..?”
“Mhm~ I bet you didn't expect that did you? An innocent young man, a regular college student working at a cafe and serving drinks with a little smile. Who knew such a harmless looking person can be a heartless murderer?” He mused.
His words taunt more fear into your bones, your vision blurry from tears and nausea from blood loss. Your other hand grips onto your only weapon of self defense; a potato masher you managed to grab as you stumbled along the kitchen and hid behind the island.
You inhaled, gritting your teeth as you finally yelled out, “What the hell do you fucking want from me??”
A pause.
There was a small moment of silence before you heard him chuckle, voice laced with so much happiness you thought he was doing something completely innocent.
“They always think there's some sort of motive behind every serial killer. But come on, can't we just kill for the fun of it?”
“You're sick. YOU'RE SICK IN THE HEAD!” You screamed, gripping onto your weapon with a newfound rage. The fear you felt had accumulated into burning anger, survival instincts kicking up as your fight or flight senses begin to drive your body to react. “How could you say you kill for fun? You're a monster you FREAK!”
As if losing control, you moved yourself up, away from your hiding spot as you hurled yourself at the man, kitchen utensil swinging down and hitting him right in the face. You couldn't even feel the pain of the wound on your leg anymore despite it freely bleeding heavily and soaking your pants, adrenaline moving your limbs to attack and survive.
Well, that was if survive was ever an option to begin with.
You could hear the sound of metal dropping onto the floor, your potato masher— now tainted in blood— laying on the tiles, staining the pristine surface a haunting red. Small bits of what you could make out to be flesh were soaked in the crimson liquid as well, the sight making you suppress the urge to hurl. The killer doesn't flinch, not moving even a muscle as fresh, warm blood runs down the side of his face, dark bangs hanging over his eyes.
It takes you a few seconds to register what had exactly happened, and before you had time to move he let loose a laugh.
It was maniacal, crazy, absolutely insane. He laughed and laughed with his knife in his hands, clutching the side of his face as a grin overtakes his lips. And for the first time, you catch sight of the perpetrator's facials.
Gone were the youthful eyes that crinkled everytime they shyly smiled when you spoke to the barista, the careless yet endearing nature that seemed to encase him was nothing but a mere memory now.
It was gone.
All that's left were dark foreboding eyes. Lifeless, empty.
And filled with utter glee.
“FINALLY! Someone that doesn't just go around screaming and running and actually entertaining!” He exclaims, throwing his head back to let out another laugh. You stood there, frozen in horror.
Your weapon had left a gash down from his eyebrow to the start of his cheek, the moonlight illuminating the blood still dripping down the side of his face and past his grinning lips yet he looked as if he could care less. That was when it hit you.
He was too far gone in insanity to care.
"I thought you'd be just as boring, especially when you went ahead and hid from me." He pouts, taking a step closer. "But looks like you lived up to my expectations,"
“P-Please,” you stumbled with your words, the agony of your wound and your trembling heart and your crippling fright all mixing into a condition that made you stagger back, looking up at the psychopath with begging eyes. “Please d-don't kill me— please! I'll do anything!”
How unfortunate for you though, mercy was non-existent in Park Jisung's book.
It took one swift kick to have you crawling back in an attempt to run away from him, screaming yet again in your empty flat for help. But you didn't get far as he grabs your legs, making you trip and fall onto the floor on your chest; shrieking your lungs out as he drags you away.
His footsteps, the same tap tap tap that approaches a person so silently that it's impossible to hear drags on until he reaches the bedroom, a grin on his face.
He giggles at your constant screaming, wiping some of his blood with his knife before licking the metal clean.
WARNING : The following content contains potentially triggering imagery of blood and knives, mentions of blood, injuries, violence, mild body horror and murder. Proceed at your own risk.
•
༺═───────────────────────────═༻
“Tsk, where are you hiding huh? Come on out darling, I promise I won't hurt you,”
You cowered in the darkness of your home, body shaking like a leaf in the wind as you helplessly stifled your cries of fear. The footsteps of the intruder were barely audible, only light taps of their heels on your wooden floor being heard. Tears had already streaked down your cheeks from terror, the smell of blood in the air as you took a glance down at the wound you were so adamantly pressing on at your leg.
The pressure from your hand surely helped lessen the bleeding, but it won't be long before droplets of blood began dripping from the deep cut.
And it won't be long before the killer spots it.
“Awh, come on. You really wanna keep hiding? But dearie, I'm already tired of playing hide and seek!” His deep voice cuts through the thick air, a hint of what seemed like annoyance accentuating his words. “Am I really that scary? I thought you called me cute the other day,”
You barely managed to catch yourself from gasping, pupils now trembling along with your body from the sudden realization.
“The barista..?”
“Mhm~ I bet you didn't expect that did you? An innocent young man, a regular college student working at a cafe and serving drinks with a little smile. Who knew such a harmless looking person can be a heartless murderer?” He mused.
His words taunt more fear into your bones, your vision blurry from tears and nausea from blood loss. Your other hand grips onto your only weapon of self defense; a potato masher you managed to grab as you stumbled along the kitchen and hid behind the island.
You inhaled, gritting your teeth as you finally yelled out, “What the hell do you fucking want from me??”
A pause.
There was a small moment of silence before you heard him chuckle, voice laced with so much happiness you thought he was doing something completely innocent.
“They always think there's some sort of motive behind every serial killer. But come on, can't we just kill for the fun of it?”
“You're sick. YOU'RE SICK IN THE HEAD!” You screamed, gripping onto your weapon with a newfound rage. The fear you felt had accumulated into burning anger, survival instincts kicking up as your fight or flight senses begin to drive your body to react. “How could you say you kill for fun? You're a monster you FREAK!”
As if losing control, you moved yourself up, away from your hiding spot as you hurled yourself at the man, kitchen utensil swinging down and hitting him right in the face. You couldn't even feel the pain of the wound on your leg anymore despite it freely bleeding heavily and soaking your pants, adrenaline moving your limbs to attack and survive.
Well, that was if survive was ever an option to begin with.
You could hear the sound of metal dropping onto the floor, your potato masher— now tainted in blood— laying on the tiles, staining the pristine surface a haunting red. Small bits of what you could make out to be flesh were soaked in the crimson liquid as well, the sight making you suppress the urge to hurl. The killer doesn't flinch, not moving even a muscle as fresh, warm blood runs down the side of his face, dark bangs hanging over his eyes.
It takes you a few seconds to register what had exactly happened, and before you had time to move he let loose a laugh.
It was maniacal, crazy, absolutely insane. He laughed and laughed with his knife in his hands, clutching the side of his face as a grin overtakes his lips. And for the first time, you catch sight of the perpetrator's facials.
Gone were the youthful eyes that crinkled everytime they shyly smiled when you spoke to the barista, the careless yet endearing nature that seemed to encase him was nothing but a mere memory now.
It was gone.
All that's left were dark foreboding eyes. Lifeless, empty.
And filled with utter glee.
“FINALLY! Someone that doesn't just go around screaming and running and actually entertaining!” He exclaims, throwing his head back to let out another laugh. You stood there, frozen in horror.
Your weapon had left a gash down from his eyebrow to the start of his cheek, the moonlight illuminating the blood still dripping down the side of his face and past his grinning lips yet he looked as if he could care less. That was when it hit you.
He was too far gone in insanity to care.
"I thought you'd be just as boring, especially when you went ahead and hid from me." He pouts, taking a step closer. "But looks like you lived up to my expectations,"
“P-Please,” you stumbled with your words, the agony of your wound and your trembling heart and your crippling fright all mixing into a condition that made you stagger back, looking up at the psychopath with begging eyes. “Please d-don't kill me— please! I'll do anything!”
How unfortunate for you though, mercy was non-existent in Park Jisung's book.
It took one swift kick to have you crawling back in an attempt to run away from him, screaming yet again in your empty flat for help. But you didn't get far as he grabs your legs, making you trip and fall onto the floor on your chest; shrieking your lungs out as he drags you away.
His footsteps, the same tap tap tap that approaches a person so silently that it's impossible to hear drags on until he reaches the bedroom, a grin on his face.
He giggles at your constant screaming, wiping some of his blood with his knife before licking the metal clean.
