Imagines || shows and movies characters x reader

Haunted || Pomni • Kinger [The amazing digital circus]

The gang was back together, but this time, the circus felt... different. There was something darker in the air, a chilling tension that none of them could shake. The bright lights and whimsical atmosphere of the Amazing Digital Circus seemed out of place for what they were about to face—something far more sinister than the usual chaos. 

Y/n stood at the edge of the circus grounds, staring out into the unnerving fog that had crept in overnight. Zooble stood beside her, one mechanical arm crossed over the other, their usual snarky demeanor replaced with a more serious tone.

"Okay, who ordered the horror-movie weather?" Zooble muttered, glancing at Y/n. "This feels like the setup to some fucked-up adventure."

Y/n nodded, her nerves on edge. "Yeah, definitely has the vibe of 'we're all gonna die.'"

Just then, Kinger burst into view, huffing and puffing as he dragged a massive shotgun behind him. The sight was so ridiculous, it almost made Y/n laugh—almost.

"Kinger, what the hell are you doing with that?" Y/n asked, staring at the weapon.

Kinger straightened up, wiping sweat from his brow. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting ready! We're about to face something spooky, and I'll be damned if I don't have something to defend myself with!"

Zooble raised an eyebrow. "Uh, you realize we're in a *digital* circus, right? That thing's not even real. You're not gonna blast any ghosts with a prop shotgun."

Kinger frowned, staring down at the gun in his hands. "Yeah, but... it makes me *feel* safer. That counts, right?"

Before anyone could respond, a new figure appeared—Caine, floating toward them with that eerie, ever-present grin on his face. "Ah, there you all are! Ready for your next great adventure?" His voice was as chipper as ever, but there was an unsettling gleam in his eyes.

Y/n crossed her arms, eyeing him suspiciously. "What's the catch this time, Caine?"

"Oh, no catch! Well... maybe just a small one," Caine chuckled, twirling his cane. "You see, this adventure is a little more... personal. For each of you. You'll be facing your worst fears, your deepest insecurities. But don't worry—it's all in good fun!"

Zooble groaned. "Great, so it's like group therapy from hell."

Caine's grin widened. "Funny you mention that, Zooble, because you're going to need some *real* therapy for what's coming up. And guess what? I'll be your therapist!"

Y/n and Zooble exchanged looks of horror.

"You?" Zooble asked, incredulous. "You're the worst person to be a therapist!"

"Trust me, I have *great* insights," Caine said, floating closer with an exaggerated, villainous flair. "Now, you two—Zooble and Y/n—head to the therapy tent. We've got some deep, emotional wounds to rip open and poke around in!"

Zooble sighed dramatically, rubbing the bridge of their nose. "This is gonna be a shitshow."

Meanwhile, as Zooble and Y/n reluctantly headed toward the tent marked "Caine's Therapy Emporium," Pomni had wandered off on her own, the creepy fog swirling around her as she moved deeper into the unknown. Her usual wide-eyed, nervous expression had only gotten worse since the spooky atmosphere set in.

"I don't like this. I don't like this at all," she muttered to herself, gripping her arms tightly as she walked. Every step felt like it was leading her further into the abyss. The air grew colder, the shadows darker, and before long, she realized she was completely alone. 

Suddenly, a low growl echoed from the darkness.

Pomni froze, her heart racing. "Okay... I'm officially freaked out now..."

A massive hand shot out from the shadows, grabbing her by the waist and yanking her into the air. She screamed, flailing as she was dragged down into a pit of swirling fire and screams.

Back at the therapy tent, Y/n and Zooble sat uncomfortably on mismatched chairs while Caine hovered behind a desk, wearing a pair of fake glasses and a notepad in hand. 

"So, tell me, Y/n," Caine began, his voice way too chipper for a therapy session. "What's been *haunting* you lately?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, already regretting this. "This entire place haunts me."

Caine's smile didn't falter. "Interesting, interesting... and Zooble, what about you? Any unresolved issues with the fact that your body's made of spare parts?"

Zooble stared at him, deadpan. "You're the reason we're all *in* this mess, and now you're playing therapist? How is this supposed to help?"

Caine waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, it's all part of the process! Confrontation leads to  growth! Now, let's talk about your *fear* of emotional vulnerability—"

Zooble slammed their hands on the table. "I swear to god, Caine, I'm one more cliché away from losing my shit."

Outside the therapy tent, Kinger stood guard with his shotgun, pacing nervously. Every rustle in the fog made him jump, and he gripped the gun tighter, muttering to himself. "It's okay, Kinger. You've got this. Just... don't let the ghosts get too close."

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream echoed through the fog. Kinger spun around, heart racing. "Pomni?"

The fog parted, and through the swirling mist, Kinger saw Pomni—her hair a mess, her eyes wide with terror—as she ran toward him at full speed. Behind her, the ground cracked open, revealing a gaping pit of fire and tortured souls. Demonic hands clawed at the edges, pulling Pomni closer.

"I've been to *hell!*" she screamed, panting as she sprinted toward Kinger. "And it's worse than anything Caine could come up with!"

Kinger screamed too, firing the shotgun blindly into the fog as he ran in the opposite direction.

The gang was officially in chaos—Kinger firing wildly, Pomni dragging herself away from the clutches of hell, and Y/n and Zooble stuck in a never-ending therapy session with Caine, the worst therapist imaginable.

This was shaping up to be their spookiest—and most unhinged—adventure yet.