Yandere Bill x Reader [REWRITE]

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TW// Stockholm syndrome, dark themes, blood and vomit

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Your nails scratched at your newly healed over scab on your knee as water dripped from the ceiling, landing just in front of you with a slight splashing noise you could only hear due to the deafening silence around you. Your knee was screaming in pain as you were tearing off the skin in order to feel something other than the numbness that had been tormenting you for however long you'd been here.

You couldn't remember how long it had been since that unfortunate day, the day which changed your life for the worst. Well that's what you thought at first anyways. The longer you had been here the more it seemed to be a blessing you had ended up in this situation. It was hard to believe that when you were first brought down here you despised the man who caused this but as time went on you seemed to come to your senses and realise the hate you felt was actually admiration.

You often used to wonder if there was anything else you could've done differently on that day or if your fate was already sealed the moment you got out of bed that morning. Now you were grateful for the way things had turned out and didn't want it any other way.

Blood started to stream down your leg as the scab tore off your knee and landed somewhere on the damp basement floor however you were unable to make out where it fell due to the darkness of your surroundings. You didn't even know when the last time you saw light with your own eyes was as time has become a mystery to you, much like most things in your life. All a mystery apart from one man.

As your fingers played with your own blood, you felt your eyes droop as fatigue took over your form. Turns out having no perception of time and being trapped in a dark chamber really fucks with the human body as you were always tired now. Or was you always like this? You couldn't really remember much of what you were like from before but you didn't really care as you much preferred yourself like this now.

You remember when you first arrived the chain on your left ankle used to bite into your skin and if you would move it would send a searing pain up your leg as it split your skin apart. Now you could easily fit 2 fingers flat in between your ankle and the chain if you tried but you decided to remain oblivious to that fact. Maybe you looked better like this though. Maybe that's why your captor let you get like this. If it pleased him then you suppose it couldn't be that bad.

When your eyes finally shut the same dream about that day plagued your mind as it did every time you fell asleep. It was becoming the only sense of a routine you had anymore even if it was unpleasant at the time, it was almost like a miracle to you now.

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You stumbled out of the mystery shack as laughter from your friends rang in your ears which were probably damaged by the loud music which had been playing. Your friend Dipper's arm was slung around your waist, trying to keep you up as you both walked to a bench situated near the entrance of the trail to the forest. As you went to sit down, you ended up dragging Dipper down with you which resulted in him being on top of you as you were sprawled out on the bench.

You both made eye contact with each other before bursting out into laughter and removing yourself from one another as Dipper then sat himself down on the bench next to you. The wind's cool breeze wrapped itself around you and the muffled bass from the music inside gave you a comforting feeling, as well as the warm buzz from the amount of alcohol you had consumed tonight.

You found yourself in this situation about once every few months as it was another promotion party for the mystery shack to attract new people or just so Stan could make a few bucks from selling tickets and alcohol.

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