Wikipedia says that Malachai it was he who banned games and music, since no one did it with him, maybe the reader will offer him to dance?
Yandere!Malachi Scenario
(gn!reader) (feminine!feader)
Warnings: Yandere, Swearing, Mention of Violence/Murder, Unhealthy relationship
Requested by: @lilmeowtyyy
( Sorry you've waited so long! Hopefully this turned out okay! This was the first thing I did after my hiatus so apologies if it's a lil wonky and short, plus I don't think I have his character down very well yet. Also I wrote this as a follow-up to Malachi's portion of my Children of the Corn Yandere alphabet. Enjoy! )
(Yan!H/cs)
♡ Ever since grade school, it was as if all the kids telepathically decided to avoid him like the plague
♡ He didn’t know why no one would play with him
♡ Maybe it was because he was always a little more naturally aggressive than the other kids, maybe it was because of that mean look he mindlessly always had on his face
♡ Maybe that was why no one asked him to play with them and why everytime he would gather the courage to ask to join they would always answer with the excuse that there was no room
♡ School dances were even worse
♡ He swore the number of students was an odd number, leaving him all alone
♡ He would watch everyone couple up or group together to dance their feet off
♡ No one ever asked him to dance, leaving him sitting next to the punch bowl
♡ It wasn’t until highschool that he actually made real friends that shared his rowdy nature
♡ He was able to get over how no one played with him in his early childhood (at least that’s what he told himself) but school dances still felt like an endless suffocation
♡ Especially since his crush on you evolved from pulling your hair for your attention to not even being able to form a single word to you
♡ And especially since you’ve started to fill out your dresses for school dances better and better each year
♡ He would twist the skin on his arm as a way to get himself to stop staring at you from across the gym
♡ It happened one or two times when he would get a sudden burst of adrenaline and approach you with held breath
♡ He lured over you from behind, tapping your shoulder which prompted you to turn around with a soft look of surprise on your face
♡ The weight of the situation and the intensity of your attention flustered him beyond his sense of control
♡ He glared and grunted and turned on his heels to march away, leaving you blinking in puzzlement
♡ No one dared question him on why he was quick with banning games and music when the cult succeeded
♡ But they all had their suspicions as to why
♡ Months had passed after the adult slaughter and months after Malachi had claimed you as his and kept you imprisoned by his side
♡ You knew all too well of his paranoia with you, the paranoia that makes the belief that hangs over his head 24/7 that everyone in town is either trying to harm you or take you from him
♡ He would much rather painfully claw and tear the skin off his own face than let anyone take you away from him
♡ You used this weakness of his to your advantage
♡ You expressed to him your completely made up notice that some of the others have been giving you these weird looks of a hunter, and successfully got his mind right where you wanted it
♡ You put the idea into his head, manipulating the conversation very meticulously to make it sound like it was his idea when you basically put the words into his mouth, to let you stay in that one abandoned house, away from everybody else
♡ You made him choose that one due to the fact it was closest to the road but of course you made sure he didn’t think too much on that crucial detail
♡ This was all for your safety of course, and not for the best chance of escape from this fucked up town and the obsessive and territorial murderer of your parents
♡ While you waited for the best, most fool-proof opening to make a break for it, you did find some enjoyment in the big house while Malachi was away
♡ And that included the record player collecting dust that was stashed away in the cellar
♡ You hadn’t heard music in forever
♡ There were very few records that were still in one piece, and none of them were from your era of music. The youngest one was a record from 1966 by Sam The Sham & The Pharaohs
♡ You didn’t even care if you knew their music or not, you just needed a melody in your ears to cleanse your brain of the horrid sound of dead silence and cult chants and screams of sacrificed nineteen year olds and corn leaves brushing together in the field
♡ As you placed down the record needle and the instruments began their tune, you closed your eyes to pretend you were anywhere but this hell hole while you slowly stepped side to side to find the beat
♡ As you found the rhythm of the first song “Lil’ Red Riding Hood” you lost yourself more in the sweet release of playful dance
♡ It was as if your ears went deaf to the music and could only hear the pulsating of your heart and your repressed heavy breaths after the terrifying sound of the dining room door slamming open, the doorknob making a brutish bang when it made contact with the wall
♡ Malachi stood in the doorway, stiff as a board, not a word spoken, and just staring at you with an unreadable, smoggy kind of look in his eyes. It was a horrible, ghastly look
♡ And even though he had never seriously gotten physical with you (pardoning accidental slaps and harsh grips) nor ever once expressing potential violence towards you… you feared for your life
♡ You legitimately believed he was about to pounce across the room to clutch both hands around your neck and rabidly compress until your vertebrae cracked
♡ Even if he wasn’t going to attack you, you still knew he was nothing but rageful on the inside right now
♡ There was absolutely no escape except for the one idea that trailed behind the memory of knowing you could have him wrapped around your finger if you choose the right actions
♡ And so you glided closer to him to the beat of “what big eyes you have”
♡ You courageously kept eye contact with him as you danced up to him, softly yet stiffly grabbing his hands to pull him across the room
♡ He effortlessly jerked his hands out of your grip to return them to dangle by his sides
♡ You repeated your previous action and used more forwardness to tug him him with you closer to the record player, you walking backwards as to not break eye contact (as if if you broke it he would lunge down and savagely bite out your shoulder like a wild wolf)
♡ Even though your heart was beating freakishly in your throat, you intertwined both of your hands into his and guided his hands along the rhythm
♡ Malachi wanted to fight it, to remove himself from your grasp and use the machete attached to his belt to destroy the record player. This dance felt nothing but tormenting to him, just a painful reminder, even though your willing touch sent his head reeling
♡ But he couldn’t just reward your disobedience. No matter how big of a soft spot he had for you, you weren’t an exception to the rules
♡ He slipped his hand out from your fingers to slowly reach for his weapon
♡ You didn’t know he was going to use it on the record player, your mind jumping to the conclusion that you were the blade’s destination. You touched the hand on his belt, gently grabbing it again to pull it to your lower back, giving his arm a quick tug to make his chest collide into yours
♡ This rendered him a blushing and stuttering mess
“I-I can’t… I don’t… I’ve never…”
“That doesn’t matter.”
♡ You swayed the two of you side to side as the song continued with the line “I'm gonna' keep my sheep suit on”
♡ Eventually you spun yourself so that your back was pressed against his torso, your arms crossed across your hips with your fingers still laced with his. He nuzzled his chin into the crook of your neck like a puppy as he inhaled and exhaled you, making you ponder if he could smell your fear
♡ You were so caught up on trying to calm your consternation you almost didn’t hear him mumble into your hair
“You love me too, right?”
♡ Your eyes widened and a nausea squeezed your gut when it registered what he had asked you
♡ You were terrified of telling him the truth of “no” yet equally as terrified of telling him a lie of “yes”. You settled on your vague answer
“…Not yet.”
♡ You felt him rub his cheek against your neck, seemingly okay with that answer
♡ Your nervous eyes remained locked on the window that displayed the glimpse of the long road outside, you didn’t know how much longer you could live like this
“You're everything that a big, bad wolf could want”
Malachai Boardman // Red Right Hand - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Take a little walk to the edge of town and go across the tracks. Where the viaduct looms like a bird of doom as it shifts and cracks. Where secrets lie in the border fires, in the humming wires. Hey man, you know you're never coming back. Past the square, past the bridge, past the mills, past the stacks, on a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man in a dusty black coat with a red right hand.
