
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7431194.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Taehyung_|_V
  Character:
      Kim_Taehyung_|_V, taehyung's_parents, Jeon_Jungkook
  Additional Tags:
      Insanity, Multiple_Personalities, psychopathy, Mild_Cannibalism, Blood
      Drinking, Murder, Drug_Use, Alcohol_Abuse/Alcoholism, Child_Abuse,
      Parent/Child_Incest, Rape, Gore, Verbal_Abuse, Mirrors, Time_Skips,
      Inspired_from_Control_by_Halsey_and_a_vine_edit, Animal_Abuse
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-08 Words: 1862
****** [Toy] Control ******
by TheRatKing
Summary
     Evil twin? No, more like my other self.
     —
     Taehyung's life has had unexpected effects on him.
Notes
     Please take the tags and warnings seriously if you're easily
     triggered by these elements. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and please
     excuse any mistakes.
     This story was heavily inspired by a vine edit and Halsey's song
     Control as you can see in the story and some of the dialogue. I
     recommend the song for those who wish to listen to it.
See the end of the work for more notes
“Why are you always gone? Can’t you just fucking be home for your own fucking
son? I can’t take it! You’re never home and you always reek of sex and alcohol!
You’re gambling away everything we owned and we’ve lost our home for the second
time?!”
 
  “It’s all because of him! He’s the one who ruined this! I never wanted him! I
                   told you to abort him but you fucking insisted we keep him!”
 
“He has nothing to do with this! He’s just a kid! Leave him alone!”
 
                                “Shut the fuck up you fucking disgusting slut!”
                                        
The hit echoed through the room and the thump as she hit the floor stopped his
  heart. At the age of seven, he saw it all from the crack through his door.
                                    “Mom…”
 
“I hate you.”
 
                                             “I can say the same thing to you.”
 
 He watched as his stranger father, the man he was supposed to idolize, walked
up to his mother, her thin and frail body collapsed on the dirty, stained floor
   that reeked of urine and other fluids best left unknown. He flinched and
clenched his plush toy elephant, tears falling out rapidly from his eyes as his
father’s boots came down on his mother, her ribs crackling like a burning fire.
Her screams pierced his ears and he collapsed, his own screams leaving his body
as he fell, his small hands coming up to block the sickening sounds coming from
                               the living room.
                                        
                                                       “Get out here, Taeyang.”
 
          His voice was heavy and demanding but he couldn’t hear him.
 
“It’s Taehyung…”
 
 His mother managed to wheeze out, blood coating her lips, teeth, and tongue.
 Taehyung couldn’t hear or see anything until he was being dragged out by the
       strong fist in his hair, his toes barely grazing the dirty floor.
 
                                        “His name won’t matter once he’s dead.”
 
            He didn’t see the fists coming for him until they hit.
 
===============================================================================
                                        
“Stop! No! Let me go! Fucking let me go!”
 
       “Get over here! Your husband lost the game and now your body is ours for
                                                         tonight. You’re ours.”
 
“Please...just don’t hurt me…”
 
     “Hurt you? Please. By the end of this, you’ll be wishing we only just hurt
                                                                          you.”
 
    At the age of eleven, Taehyung had to hide under the bed, continuously
clutching his toy elephant, its comforting smell distracting him from the sound
of the men’s moans, his mother’s screams, skin slapping against skin, her blood
dripping onto the floor, and the sound of the knife slicing her flesh when she
 tried to run. He made no noise as the uncomfortable position made all of the
 cuts, scrapes, and bruises that he effectively hid at school hurt even more.
                                        
   When the men left and his mother was lying hurt on the floor in a pool of
semen, sweat, blood, and tears, he came out to help her. It was the first time
                           his mother ever hit him.
 
“This is all because of you. I wish you were never born.”
 
===============================================================================
                                        
  At the age of thirteen, Taehyung was in his room, hiding under his bed and
  restraining a small mouse that had made its way into his ‘home’. Its small
squeaks and squirming made him feel better, superior, and God-like. And when he
began cutting its tail it small sections, the crimson blood splattering on his
lips and face as it tried to escape from the silver kitchen knife in his grasp,
 he felt exhilarated. His heart sped up and a crooked smile crossed his lips,
   his tongue darting out to taste the blood. His pupils dilated, his heart
  stuttered and he began cutting some more, desiring that same metallic taste
           once more but this time, fresh from the host in his hold.
                                        
   He never worried about his parents finding out about the things he did in
 secret. They never payed any attention to him anyways. Whenever they did, it
  was always to beat him, use him as their output for their hatred and anger.
  They purged the evil from their souls onto their son, unknowingly darkening
    their own souls and throwing him further into the treacherous grasp of
 insanity. He father began using more than just his fists and boots on him; he
                  began using his body for many more things.
                                        
He would cut him, knives carving patterns into the supple scarless flesh of his
 legs, arms, and stomach. He would pin him down, spreading his legs and thrust
   in raw, blood dripping down his thighs and screams falling from his lips.
                       “Please stop, you’re scaring me!”
 
                                   “Goddamn right, you should be scared of me.”
                                                                               
===============================================================================
                                        
   At fourteen, his mother would yell at him whenever she was on a trip. The
   thrill of the heroin inside her veins pushing her to strip her son of his
 dignity. She would call him names, degrading him, hitting him, slapping him,
 forcing him to take the same toxins she did in lethal dosages, and she would
put out her burning cigarettes into his skin and over the cuts his father made.
                                        
“He was right. It’s all your fault. Look at what you’ve done Taehyung. You’ve
made me into this monster you see. There’s a reason your father uses you the
way he does; you’re worth nothing more than a toy he can throw around as he
wishes.”
 
  When she was done, Taehyung turned around and went to his room, the rotting
 animal carcases in his closet smelling up the room in a nauseating fragrance
that made him feel powerful. He was the one who killed them, he was in power in
                           here. He was God in here.
                                        
                          He was in control in here.
                                        
                              And he loved that.
                                        
===============================================================================
                                        
 At sixteen, he looked into the mirror. In his reflection, he saw what he was
  but not who he was. In the mirror, he saw the monster laying dormant in the
  darkest corners of his soul, heinous desires entrancing him into committing
                  sins only his father and mother committed.
                                        
                     “Why don’t you kill them, Taehyung?”
                                        
            “I couldn’t do that. They’re my parents. They love me.”
                                        
“They love you by using you? Your father rapes, cuts, beats, and uses you. Your
         mother drugs you, slaps you, degrades you, and tortures you.”
                                        
                         “No. You’re wrong, Taehyung.”
                                        
 “Kill them. Feel their warm blood on your hands like the blood of the animals
you kill. All those mice, rats, birds, hamsters, cats, dogs. Taste their blood.
  You love the taste don’t you? That warm, metallic, bloody taste is the same
 drug to you like heroin is to your ‘loving’ mother. Look at her. She doesn’t
 love you. Your father doesn’t love you. You’re alone. No one is your friend,
                                  Taehyung.”
                                        
“You’re wrong. I have a friend. He’s nice to me. Jungkook’s always nice to me.
                                 I like him.”
                                        
  “If he knew you, if he knew the life you hide, the Taehyung that you hide,
 would he still be nice to you? Would he still smile and wave to you? Would he
 still share his lunch with you? Would he still tell you his silly jokes that
               you love so much? Would he still be your friend?”
                                        
          Taehyung didn’t answer his reflection staring back at him.
                                        
   “No, Jungkook wouldn’t. He’s just using you too. Now kill them all. Be in
                              control, Taehyung.”
                                        
  Taehyung couldn’t deal with himself, the Taehyung inside of himself. So he
    shattered all the mirrors in his room, never wanting to see him again.
 
===============================================================================
                                        
                                                     “Get over here, Taehyung.”
 
At seventeen, Taehyung walked over to him on autopilot. He knew what to do when
 this happened. He would shut down, his conscious leaving his body to go deep
    inside of him into the pool of hatred slowly consuming him. He only had
    Taehyung, his reflection, his evil twin, his other self; his real self.
                                        
  As his father used him, he remembered what Taehyung told him long ago. ‘Now
                   kill them all. Be in control, Taehyung.’
                                        
Taehyung looked up into his bedroom, his toy elephant sitting innocently on his
 bed against his ratty pillows. His toy. He was his father’s toy. His mother’s
 voice echoed in his head along with Taehyung’s. ‘There’s a reason your father
  uses you the way he does; you’re worth nothing more than a toy he can throw
                             around as he wishes.’
                                        
 The animals he killed and drank were his toys. His elephant was his innocent
 self’s toy. The drugs his mother injected were her toys. He was his father’s
               toy. He was just a toy. He was being controlled.
                                        
                          ‘Be in control, Taehyung.’
                                        
“C’mon, Taehyung. Don’t be a toy. Take control. Taste your father’s blood that
                            we both know we want.”
                                        
    Something resembling the last remains of sanity inside Taehyung finally
snapped. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back, it was the tipping point
                                   for him.
                                        
Taehyung reached out, shaking as the blood encrusted under his fingernails and
 in his cuticles stood out against his sickeningly pale skin. His hand curled
 around the bottle his father was drinking beforehand, the cold glass dragging
                   him back from the darkness inside of him.
                                        
“Fucking hell, Taehyung. You’re always so tight for me no matter how many times
                                                            I use you. F-fuck…”
 
When the glass broke against his father’s skull, his unconscious body slumping
onto the floor, Taehyung began laughing for the first time since he was seven.
  He continued beating his father even after his damned soul left his body to
   join the demons in Hell, the blood splattering all over his body like the
                          animals’ blood always did.
                                        
The broken, jagged bottle slipped out of his grasp and fell onto the floor with
  a resonating clank inside the empty apartement in the scummiest part of the
city. He looked down at his bloody hands, the crimson colour stimulating parts
                         of him he never knew existed.
                                        
    When he licked the blood off of his fingers, he was intoxicated by the
                             mouthwatering taste.
                                        
===============================================================================
 
                                        
   He didn’t bother with his mother, her carcass was already rotting on the
  stained couch for the past few days, lighters, heroin needles, crack pipes,
       bongs, white powdered lines littering the environment around her.
                                        
 He looked into the mirror of the filthy bathroom, blood smeared all over his
       body and on his face like a sinister smile. “Taehyung. I did it.”
                                        
                          “It’s delicious isn’t it?”
                                        
  Taehyung nodded in agreement, using his hands and tongue to get more of the
                        luscious blood into his mouth.
                                        
  “Hey Taehyung, would you like to know what would be even more delicious? If
 you’re willing to try it, it would be even more satisfying than killing your
   father. His innocent look as you kill him would be completely, absolutely
  lecherously mouthwatering. The innocent, pure taste of blood on your tongue
                              would be euphoric.”
 
He nodded for Taehyung to continue, the invigorating high in his body made him
 feel ready to do anything. “Kill him too. He’ll be perfect for this. Use him
   too. Everyone’s used you, Taehyung. Use them too. The world is your toy.”
                                        
“Who’s this ‘he’?” Taehyung’s body was itching for another kill, the insatiable
 desire shaking his body and wracking every last nerve in his person. Taehyung
                       smiled and Taehyung smiled back.
 
===============================================================================
                                        
                              Taehyung was right.

           Jungkook was succulent, orgasmic, and so very delicious.
End Notes
     ASDFGHJKL I actually feel so bad for writing this omfg! Tae, my baby,
     I love you and I'm so sorry Jungkook my love~ :(((((( GAAAHHH my
     children!! Regardless I hope you enjoyed~~ <333
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