✿ ⋆˙ ROBIN !! ࣪ ִ˙ ✿

Imagine … having grown anxious about your upcoming plan, fiddling with the ends of your clothes to soothe the ache that is your racing heart. For too long (You can’t recall anymore,) have you been chained to the confines of their space. And long it took for the yandere to fully trust you enough to take off the long cuffs attaching you to the bed post. Rarely have they let you see the blue skies anymore, or the fresh dirt. All you hope to see when they trek back inside from an outing are the potential blades of glass picked up by their foot wear along the way. You cherish the ones that you can pick up from the floor, caressing what little of a tangibility it has before your yandere whisks you off to do goodness knows what.

Imagine … going through daily routine every day having to act like everything is fine. Your yandere oblivious to the circulating thoughts in your mind. Its particularly difficult to pretend to be under the effects of their overbearing love when they’re physically smothering you whenever they can. Whether thats through hugs, kisses, cuddling… any sort of intimacy possible. It’s exhausting, and almost even nauseating the more you think about your possible plans while you’re in their arms.

Imagine … having gone through every idea and recognizing all their flaws. Nothing could truly work in a peaceful setting, one where you would talk to them. You’ve already tried. Over and over yet they insist you need nobody but them. That your life is perfect beside them as long as you allow them to take care of you. 

Imagine … realizing that the only way you can escape out of this hell hole … is through death. You shivered tremendously the first time that thought crossed your mind, your yandere noticing obviously. You just lied and said you were cold, your yandere not pushing any further and going to you to bring you a heat source (them; you in their arms).

Imagine … remembering the countless of attempts you’ve tried in the early stages of being kidnapped to kill yourself, or maim your captor at least. Which, all were unsuccessful as you were standing here today. How the thought of death never resurfaced in your mind after succumbing to stockholm syndrome a while later was a wonder to you, but nonetheless it was an option now. Especially now that you had access to cutlery.

Imagine … laying in bed next to your yandere, pretending to sleep through the night while your yandere secretly (well not so secretly, since you’ve been knowing) stares at your resting face. In actuality have you relaxed your entire body and breathing to maintain an act, letting the hours seep by as you truly plan for the escapade. A few weeks from now for good measure, during dinner when your yandere is most tired, with the sharpest cutlery possible, and your hopes and dreams to actually pull through with your execution.You just knew someone had to die that day, whether it be you or them. Either way it’d be freedom from the life you currently lead, even if you didn’t know what the future held for that you that lived.

Imagine … the time leading up to that very special dinner you’ve planned. A little date.. celebration, you would tell your yandere.

“Really? How thoughtful of you, darling. For this to come out of nowhere must mean you have a surprise for me that day. I’ll be waiting.”

Imagine … getting more confidence as your yandere walks away without a care or concern for your proposition. They know nothing, nothing at all. You just cannot wait for something to change. To be free, just like the birds you saw long ago when you were free. Free to go anywhere you’d like and do whatever it is you wanted without the watchful eye of them.

Imagine … the night before the day of the celebration. It’s a particularly special night: one where you tolerate them enough to allow them to touch you ever so intimately, much more than you’ve ever allowed them when they kidnapped you. Of course they’re so giddy about it, lovingly grazing their hands throughout the entirety of your body, where they’re allowed to reach, to touch. You make sure of that.

It’s a domestic sight, one that you have dreamed of forever of having with your loved one. And it is happening, but have they ever really been eligible to be called your lover when they have forced it upon you? To love them, the devil, back? It’s one you’re still conflicted about; having grown so comfortable with them yet knowing the morals it breaks. The wrongness of it all.

The thought of it makes you deeply sick, and yearn for the following evening to come quicker. Yet you still ache for their touch to embrace you forever more.

Imagine … the table is set for two. Candles are lit and everything is in place. The plates, the foods on delicate plates on the middle of the table, the extra smaller forks and knives hidden in pockets around your clothes. You’ve been hyping yourself up for weeks, yet for every tick of the clock does the anxiety come rushing back with the horrible thoughts of failure. Would it better to do it later? Would death really grant you freedom? Can you even back up now?

But all thoughts of change are thrown out the window when your yandere enters into the residency, arms outstretched, expecting you to come running into their arms for an embrace. In which you do, smile wide and heart excited. All for the wrong reasons.

Imagine … allowing for them to settle into the chair at the table. You go to pick up glasses of water and allowing yourself the time to withdraw a knife from your pockets and strategically slipping in your long sleeves instead, making sure you’d be able to reach it quickly when the time came.

Imagine … the realization you didn’t actually have a fool-proof planning to leaving the building, or where ever you were. Windows were useless, as you’ve tried jamming and breaking them in the earlier stages of the (captured) honeymoon. The only way was through the double locked door in the front.

Imagine … gathering your courage to have one last meal at the table with your yandere. Fair conversation, fair food, and fair equality just for once in the relationship. Everything being so peaceful (despite the racing of your heart) almost made you really reconsider.

But imagine seeing that your yandere also has a gift for you, in which they give you a moderately sized box. When you outstretch your hand to take it from them, you see their smile widen tremendously to a near unfathomable amount. You couldn’t understand why until you opened the box.

Imagine … the look on your face as you realize it’s a special, personalized collar. Made to fit just for you. The prettiest shade of your favorite color covering the base, a metal d-ring that layered right in the middle of the front of the collar, which had your yandere’s initials imbued into it. This wasn’t expected.

And your yandere just looked at you as if everything was normal, that this and the whole arrangement was normal.

Imagine … them coming around to your side of the table, standing right behind your chair with the collar in hand. You were so shocked, so out of it you couldn’t understand anything that was coming out of their mouth. But their voice was so soft, and their hands so gentle as they went to clasp the collar around your neck. Their execution only foiled when you suddenly stood up.

Imagine … their confusion when you do, but it suddenly goes away when you embrace them, arms fully embodying them. A sweet, wonderful act of appreciation. Your yandere is pleasantly surprised, and even falls into the hug, eyes closed and really just taking in the moment. But you on the other hand, knew it would be the only opportunity you could stab your knife through their body.

And that’s what you did.

And oh how you prayed for the knife hidden in your sleeve to slip out carefully— and it did, into your shaky hands that were barely able to grasp around it due to the way your hands were positioned behind their back.

Imagine … the moment you plunge the knife into their back, hopefully somewhere close to a vital body part. They were still talking to you, about you, when they groan from the pain that starts to get excruciating. And it doesn’t take them more than five seconds for them to realize that you had orchestrated everything for today. They should have known better.

“You … you … I loved you …!” They splutter, still not letting go of you, but not being able to do anything more than that. “You were doing great, WE were doing great, so—ngh, why now..?” 

“Let go of me!”

You’re able to take the knife out from their back, eliciting another yell from them, and dug it right back into them, which forces them to let you go to instinctively grab for their wounded part. You aren’t able to take the knife back at this time.

“FUCK!” They cough out, stumbling to their knees. The pain was getting more excruciating for them, and you stood there merely in a frozen state.

The expression on your face could’ve been akin to death itself, with it contorting to be of utter shell-shock. You should’ve started escaping now, but you couldn’t help but watch them struggle. Not for fun, but out of guilt for what you did.

With the last of your remaining confidence, you demand, “Where are the keys?!”

And that’s when your yandere also realizes they that didn’t enough to keep you next to them, all of their efforts were never enough to sway your desire for freedom.

It should’ve hurt them— but it made them more proud.

Proud that you still had that spark, the will and fight to live. The love you had for the world that made them fall in love with you in the first place. 

And lastly, being able to die by your hands, and nobody else’s. It was all a dream come true, even if you wouldn’t be dying with them. They would’ve made sure of that if only they had the power to left. The blood still continues to pour from their back.

With the little strength they had, they pulled a handle of keys from their pocket, and you took it at the first sight. Without waiting, you bolted to the door to try unlocking the many locks on it, hoping that with this you could be free. It does. You could cry of relief.

Imagine … before leaving, you turn back to see your yandere still heaving on the floor now, their limit almost near. They were still looking at you every step of the way. 

Imagine … you calling out their name one last time in such a strange tone, one that you couldn’t assign to either happiness, sadness, nor hatred. It was just airy and just a word spoken.

Imagine … their eyes focusing the best they can when you do, and the best crinkle of a smile they can afford to do. They open their mouth, and you force yourself to leave when they’re finished talking, not wanting to change your mind about leaving.

Imagine … the warm sun splaying its rays over your body, finally seeing the birds who disturbed your sleep so long ago, and the way nature seemed to be at its peak bloom. 

You didn’t have a solid plan of where to go or what to do, but here now did you actually have your own choices to make, and your captor finally gone from your life…

…but maybe you’ll miss the only person who could give you all of the love in the world. The one person who dedicated his last words to you.

“I love you, darling.”

I was pulling an all-nighter and then decided to write this at 4am (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝) why am I always productive in the early mornings…

this fic was inspired by John Fowle’s “The Collector” (1963) and the movie adaption (“The Collector (1965)”)!! A very interesting read, and an even beautiful movie depicting of the mc’s obsession and devotion,, and the evilness of it all, hehe. Check it out if u were interested in this fic !! Definitely worth a read and watch if ur into viewing different perspectives and analyzing personalities.

follow for moar content if you enjoyed !! Thx for reading cuties !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

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