#Tw: kidnapping

[certified-pumi]

Now, you can read it on AO3 too!

Unloved Beloved

One person already shared their idea for @itsabouttimex2’s platonic yan AU, “Not The Beloved” (go check it out if you haven’t already) so I’m here to share mine too, inspired by their “Not The Beloved” fic. An ‘what if’ scenario if you will.

warnings: spoilers for lmk season 5, gender neutral reader, child neglect, parentification, favouritism, yandere platonic/familial characters, kidnapping, likely OOC writing.

Following close to canon, Xiangliu was the one responsible for MK’s egg hatching prematurely. Thus, also allowing for the Shadowpeach family to finally have their perfect monkey baby!

One day for whatever reason, Xiangliu ends up on the Flower Fruit mountain. Recognising where he is, he decides to pay a quick visit to the little harbinger that he had set free.

He didn’t have to look for long, as he noticed two small, monkey silhouettes on the beach. Approaching them, he immediately recognised MK, the little ball of sunshine as energetic as ever. He played with who appeared to be another monkey, only somewhat much taller than him in stature.

However, upon closer inspection, Xiangliu realized that it wasn’t another monkey that MK played with. As the young child took off their hood, the demon was met with a pair of innocent, large eyes that stared back at him.

A human.

Curious enough, he approaches you both. Despite your cautiousness about this strange new face, you easily let your guard down once he convinces you that he’s an old friend of Sun Wukong’s.

He quickly learns that you’re MK’s older sibling and Wukong’s and Macaque’s adopted human child. When Xiangliu asks about your parents’ whereabouts, he’s surprised to learn that both of them are away. “And you’re taking care of the little one all by yourself? Your brother sure seems lucky to have such a reliable older sibling,” he comments. He doesn’t miss the way you try to hide your frown and then nod along.

Naturally, Xiangliu doesn’t stick around for too long. He leaves and once your fathers return, you mention your father’s “old friend” visiting and describe him as best as you can.

Not recognising anyone by that description, Sun Wukong and Macaque brush it off as you having an imaginary friend.

As for Xiangliu himself, he had to admit that he didn’t expect for Sun Wukong and his mate to be present at the right time to adopt the future Harbinger of Chaos. Or that the Great Sun Wukong would also adopt a human child beforehand. Knowing the potential risk to his plans if the Harbinger was being raised by the Monkey King and the Six Eared Macaque, the nine headed demon decides to drop by more frequently.

He knew that he couldn’t directly approach baby MK. The fact that Sun Wukong and his spouse were fussing over him would mean that he had no opening for talking to the mystic baby monkey without having to talk to them.

And that’s where you come in like a blessing.

By befriending and gaining your trust first, Xiangliu could indirectly learn more about what the rest of your family has been up to. He’d have to put in a little effort not to be noticed by your fathers, sure, but as long as he could use you to keep an eye on MK’s development under the Great Sage, it’ll be worth it.

In the next few years that follow, Xiangliu has observed the dynamics that were in your family in order to befriend you. To him, it became obvious fast how there was a clear favoritism directed towards the youngest child in the family. Of course, he’d use that distance that your fathers were making to let himself close to you.

Each time you were left alone with MK, Xiangliu would appear. Knowing that your parents considered his existence just as imaginary, he decided to play under that guise. He made sure to always remain friendly towards you and MK, offering to play with you both. The best part of all of it to you was that he didn’t treat you differently than MK.

Along with your friendship with Xiangliu prolonging, he started to notice how your fathers’ treatment of MK started to affect you further into your childhood. He didn’t have to intertwine or even talk to you to see it, since your fathers didn’t have to put any effort in making it more obvious.

Whenever he’d attempt to talk to you alone, you’d have to apologize, saying that you’re too tired to talk. The reasons being going to school and then having to babysit MK. It seemed that your fathers completely forgot how the demon toddler’s stamina was much more vast compared to that of a human child.

 And when you weren’t tired, it was during the times that you had your fathers drag you along to wherever MK wanted to go. You never had time to talk to Xiangliu anymore or to even do your own hobbies. 

And like a salt to the wound, the demon could also see all the brand new gifts that MK had each time he’d have some time to observe the boy. Compared to him, you still had your hand-me-downs from your Papa. It didn’t help that  along with them, patched slits for nonexistent ears and tail remained on those clothes. Like a cruel reminder to the reason for your father’s selfish treatment.

It was baffling how both of your fathers prioritized your brother’s feelings over your being. Your entire existence was limited to wherever your parents decided that MK needed something more.

When you tried to reach out to any other adults or to any other kids about your state at home, you were either brushed off or met with disdain. Other people in your life told you to grow out of it and stop being ungrateful. You were the adopted child of Great Sage and his loyal partner, after all. What more do you want, when you already have what many other children don’t?

The more he watched, the more that Xiangliu started to feel an ounce of remorse towards you. While he watched your social life crumble due to having to put MK’s needs before your own, he started to wonder if he made the right choice by letting the boy be adopted by two enabling monkeys.

One time, he caught you quietly crying to yourself. With no one around, Xiangliu had a rare opportunity to comfort you.

“I hate it! Everyone keeps saying how I should be grateful for being adopted by the great, famous warriors like baba and papa… but-! It’s like they don’t love me. Not as much as MK anyway,” as you sniffle, the demon reaches out to stroke your hair.

His touch is gentle while he watches you with a stern frown.

“You must really hate MK, don’t you child?” Xiangliu asks, “To be completely robbed of your freedom, all because both of your parents prioritize his wishes and needs over your own. That must’ve been so difficult for a child like you.” 

As you wipe away your tears, you look at your ‘imaginary friend’.

“I… I don’t,” you admit, “It’s not that I hate MK, it’s just… I-I don’t like how both baba and papa brush me off. When I tell them I’m too tired, I can rest only after all of us go to the arcade that MK wanted to go to. I can’t even play or go to my friends on my own! MK always wants me to play with him or else he’d get upset. And both of them hate to see him cry…”

Xiangliu was quiet as your lower lip started to wobble again. More of your tears fell, making the nine headed demon pull you in a hug.

“It’s not fair, it’s not! Why do they care more about what MK wants? He always gets anything he asks! But I want new things too! Why do I have to work for them and MK doesn’t?!” you wail. “Why is MK their favorite?! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Oh, I know, I know, child…” 

“It’s not fair, it’s not fair!!”

Feeling his resentment for your family growing, Xiangliu doesn’t say anything. He just lets you cry your little heart out.

Once you’re all tuckered out from crying, Xiangliu has no heart to put you back in your bed. He was still fixated on you, safe and peaceful in his arms. Your tear stained face and swollen eyes were something that he couldn’t look away from without feeling resentment.

As a so-called hero and warrior, he couldn’t help but to laugh bitterly each time Wukong referred to himself as your baba. Xiangliu saw how many clones he summoned to take care of MK the moment the boy got sick with the slightest cold. Yet he nor his partner could spare one glance at you, who was waiting for them while being late to school.

He hated the way Macaque missed your potential over the sake of training MK. While he taught the boy how to shadow travel, he completely missed the way you tried to get his attention by trying to perfect one of his signature moves. He only ever patted your head and told you not to bother with it, while going to then teach and praise MK for trying that exact same move.

It seemed that the privileges from Nuwa never left MK, despite him abandoning his shell. The more he observed the young boy, the more Xiangliu grew bitter.

Because of his parents, the boy is gonna grow up with a need to be a hero. To live up to the ideal that Nuwa and his own parents had set out for him.

All while you were used and left behind, like an unpolished gem meant as a gift for your brother.

He recognised that your brother was attached to you. He might be the only one who pays attention to you, besides Xiangliu himself. But, he is also the reason others miss seeing your true potential. You were still young and unwilling to accept that little MK was the true cause for your suffering.

But, that’s where a demon like Xiangliu can help.

He watched you be sidelined for far too long. Your fathers never gave you a chance to experience what you could’ve been, they just kept you restrained to what you should be for your brother.

Irony of it all was that once long ago, your fathers were the one who rebelled against the whole Heaven. And now, they were keeping their own child in a gilded cage while simultaneously undermining your wants and needs, just like how Heaven did to them.

Just like how Nuwa did to him.

He was done watching you suffer your fathers’ foolishness. 

Black tendrils now surround you both, it wasn’t long until Xiangliu had you both teleported from your room. And even so, when he glanced over your unconscious form, you were still sleeping and unaware.

 Far away from those disgraceful fathers, demanding younger brother and that tropical prison that you’ve been forced to call home, now with him you’ll  finally be free. Soon enough and with him by your side, you’ll be able to reach your full potential.

No matter the sudden change in his plans, Xiangliu knows that having you here with him will prove much more fruitful later down the line. And as for your family and more specifically, your brother….

It was too late for him to fix what’s already been done with MK. But he knows, he’ll be able to help you set yourself free.

By sharing with you the freedom of what only the Chaos can bring.

ending note:

It's been so long since the last time I wrote something. I hope that it wasn’t a boring read, lol.

Also, I should mention, I hadn’t finished watching season 5 so I have yet to see what else is going on, buuut I had to get this fic idea out of my system, so yeah.

Thank you everyone that stuck ‘til the end!

[danascullysjournal]

“Oh, Archivist.”

It’s finished! Nikola Orsinov kidnapping Jon sent me spiraling so I had to paint it. The horrors he endures😵‍💫🥺 poor Jon. I don’t think the creators meant to have the wax figures melting but that’s how it is in my head

Detail below:

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Beyond the Grave

Danny Fenton gets the surprise of his life when the Justice League accepts a mission in Amity Park.

No, they were there for ghost issues. lt turns out that if people aren't exposed to shock waves of Ectoplasm radiation, they don't get fun side effects like seeing the dead. That's why the town people had called his parents loons up until the portal was open.

There hadn't been enough death energy to make them visible, let alone corporeal enough to touch the human world. Even Danny had thought his parents were chasing an unrealistic dream until that fateful day when Sam convinced him to walk through the portal.

What the Justice League was there to do was stop this company that had been kidnapping meta children all over the country. They had hidden them a little outside Amity Park, where people rarely drove by. Danny had only gone through those back roads twice, and he's lived in Amity Park all his life.

No one had the slightest idea that a secret lab was operating underground, forcing experimentation on children. Danny felt horrible he had missed this, as the self-proclaimed hero of the area, but his expertise was in ghosts. They were pretty straightforward and loud in their evil plots.

Something like this required resources, training, and detective skills that Danny didn't have. What made him feel a little bit better about all this was that Danny had found the children before the Justice League.

He just won't tell them that because it made his own kidnapping rather embarrassing. Somehow, the scientists- if that can even be called that- had detected Danny's hidden powers. While he was busy crawling out of a dumpster- Dash had thrown him in there- a van had pulled up and thrown a collar onto his neck.

Danny was so stunned by the action that he could not stop a taser to the neck in time. His entire body had cramped up, but not before he had sent a burst of energy to the broken security camera, tuning it on and broadcasting the video to Tucker's laptop.

He got a bit better at controlling technology using ectoplasm, especially after the many fights with Technus, and his friend had set up a laptop in a close circuit that could tap into Danny's frequency.

The kidnappers probably thought that they were in the clear when making grabs at meta children since most came from areas that didn't have surveillance. Tucker had gotten home to a three-hour-long video from Danny, clicking it open and spitting out the ramen he was eating when the first few minutes of it was Danny getting educated.

He panicked and called Jazz to ask if his friend had gotten home. When she denied seeing her brother, Tucker contacted Sam and informed her what was happening.

The pair had immediately mobilized, tearing through the city on the hunt for the van. Jazz had joined them after letting her parents know Danny was missing. They had gone straight to the police station to report that their son was gone.

Tucker had sent them the video, claiming it was from a Panic App. The pair had been in the beta stages, which was why no one had such a helpful app, but it was enough for the Fentons to make their case. The police had placed an Amber Alert and had practically locked down the city.

In a small town like Amity Park, getting the people to band together to help each other was relatively easy. Even Flash, the last person to have seen Danny, had called his football friends to get in a car and help them find the youngest Fenton.

Sadly, by then, the scientists had taken Danny well out of the city, even with multiple people calling to place tips on the black van. Four days passed, and with each passing hour, the likelihood of Danny returning home alive grew dimmer.

No one thinks they have ever seen Jazz Fenton cry that much before. Jack and Maddie were on a rampage, tearing through the city for hints of their son. They had even ignored a ghost attacking the mall, too busy stopping every black Sprinter van they could find for clues of their son.

The video was somehow leaked to the public - Tucker and Sam had allowed it to slip into public domains with a scrambled VPN, hoping to get someone to report anything- and this video had made its way to a certain billionaire in Gotham.

Batman had been working the case for months, looking for a pair of twins that had vanished from Daminan's class. They had gotten the boys back, now able to see in the dark as their meta genes had been forcefully unlocked, and realized they were rescued before they were able to get to the primary base.

The only clue the Bats had was a symbol of a two-headed snack on the collars found around the twin's necks. The same collar that had been forced upon Danny Fenton when he was taken in the video.

Bruce had called his co-workers the second he noticed the mark. They had geared up and gone to Amity Park to investigate. Clark, Diana, Billy, and Bruce had arrived at Amity Park in their civilian personas. They came separately to avoid suspicion, hoping to use Billy as bait.

The Justice League was still coming to terms with Captain Marvel being a fourteen-year-old kid, but none could call into question the good work Billy did.

The three had different stories about why they were in the middle of nowhere in Amity Park.

Bruce had been in town to set up a new outreach for the Wayne Foundation. Clark, a news reporter investigating the missing child case of Danny and Diana, had chosen to tour the most haunted cities in the United States for her museum curator.

Like a charm, Billy had gotten the attention of the kidnappers, and only three days after arriving in Amity as a homeless kid, he had been taken. The moment Billy pressed the button on his bracelet, the three were notified that he had been kidnapped.

Clark kept an ear of the van, listening to the bracelet's beeping that no human could pick up. Just in case, the Leauge had embedded a tracker into Billy's left arm, and Bruce had followed it to the secret Lab.

A message to the Watch Tower had backup zapping down in seconds. They waited until nightfall before springing a rescue mission. Flash, Black Canary, Red Tornado, and Vigilanete had been sent in to find and bring the children home while Bruce, Clack, and Diana worked on taking out the guards.

Danny had woken in a test tube with multiple needles and wires digging into his skin, facing a group of superheroes that stared back at him in horror. The last thing he remembered had been the passing cells of meta children before he was taken to a room with a glass tube.

After being shoved into it, Danny was put to sleep with a gas. He had not been conscious for the entire time he was taken. That means he was not awake when the scientists had accidentally caused his heart to flatline.

They had thrown his body into an unmarked grave, intending to bury him with the three other nameless victims. Danny had not been awake when his survival instincts had triggered his shift to Phantom and floated out of the grave.

Like a balloon with helium, Danny had drifted far from the grave, flouting in the wind unconscious due to the gas.

He had awakened for only a few seconds, floating above the road that led to Amity, confused about how he got there. Sadly, the very same van that had just finished burying him had driven down the street, spotting him in the air and choosing to capture the famous Phantom.

They had stolen some Fenton Tech on a stakeout while waiting to take the Fenton Boy and were happy to see it had knocked out the ghost. The men had taken Phantom back to the lab, setting him up in a tube so their scientist could pull out his green blood for tests.

The Justice League had broken in that night. After the raid, Bruce hacked the computers, looking for clues about the missing children. His heart fell to his feet when he read the reports.

The children had died in the experiments. Danny Fenton was on the list of failed experiments, his time of death marked in the conclusion section of a report like he wasn't a young boy who had just finished his first year of high school.

Bruce had only been able to pull himself together long enough to find information about Phantom being held in a deeper part of the lab. Clark, Barry, and Bruce had gone to the lower levels, intending to set the ghost free.

What they found was Phantom in his most basic form. A young ghost with his jumpsuit cut open, showing the same markings the other rescued children bore.

Lichtenberg scars around the neck, torso, and arms.

Phantom had been a new ghost. Bruce and Clark had verified that in their investigations. They had never thought to question what had created him, only that he had appeared a few months ago wearing a hazmat jumpsuit and seemingly unable to leave Amity Park.

The same jumpsuit the other meta children were forced to wear to contain their experiments.

Phantom had been a meta child that had been killed by these people. He was recaptured and placed in a strange ghost coma, leaving the Justice League baffled about how to help him.

Besides blinking, his eyes opened for only a few seconds when he was rescued; he had remained unconscious after muttering, "There are more. Fifty-seven kids....help them, please."

The League had taken him back to their headquarters while working through the labs and digging up the bodies of the other victims. The people involved with this heinous crime had all taken their lives, having snuck a cyanide tablet into their teeth.

None of them faced justice properly, not for the deaths they caused or the angst that Phantom had been dragged into. The ghost had been unable to move on, sticking around even after everything they had done to him.

He had likely been attempting to get help for the remaining prisoners because every place he had attacked had been involved with this lab.

The Justice League would later reveal this information to the horrified townspeople.

Valerie Gray would be throwing up in the bathroom after watching the news. Her father's previous employers had been half on staff with the people who had killed Phantom.

They made a list of potential children to test for the meta gene. She had been on there, and had Phantom not gotten her dad fired when he did, she would have been kidnapped. He saved her life, and she had shot at him in return.

Dash Baxter would be found drinking and sobbing in the school parking lot. He had been drowning in guilt for dragging Fenton behind the mall, where he had thrown him in the dumpster. He had nothing to do with the kidnapping, but he blamed himself nonetheless.

Those people had been attempting to take Fenton for weeks, and he created the perfect opening. Now Danny Fenton was dead by the same people who made his hero. Dash vowed never to bully anyone again, even as Kawn took him home and helped nurse him through his hangover.

Sam Madison and Tucker Foley moved about like zombies. They kept sending messages to someone who would never answer, searching the sky for Phantom's glow, or had their phones on just in case they found Danny. With each uncovered grave, the pair grew hopeful as Danny had not been among the recovered bodies.

People were slightly heartbroken for them. They would wait on a best friend that was never coming home.

Not to mention the Fenton's reaction to Danny's fate. The funeral had been one of the hardest ones any of them had ever attended. The cries of the three remaining Fentons had echoed in their nightmares.

Worse, they had closed their portal. The Fentons had sealed everything to do with ghosts away, no longer able to stand the research now that they knew Phantom had been attempting to prevent Danny's death.

Maybe if they had stopped to try and communicate with him, they might have been able to save their son.

Jack and Maddie were still certified geniuses and were able to fall back on working for Wayne Enterprises as engineers. They moved away, with Jazz looking lifeless without her brother.

People in Amity Park passed by the old Fenton Works sign, never to see it glow again. They also realized that Phantom had vanished, many assuming that now he was at rest due to his murder being solved.

They were unaware he was floating above them in the Watch Tower's medical wing, locked away in slumber.

John Constantine had noticed his ectoplasm levels had not moved since his rescue. For some reason, Phantom's body was not producing it properly like other ghosts- most likely due to experiments they had forced him through.

This caused a coma, with every Justice League Dark member scratching their heads. In every way, Phantom seemed fine, but his core did not react correctly.

It was almost as if it had never been adequately formed, as if Phantom was still alive somehow.

After months of trying to figure out how to stabilize the ghost's core, John contacted a ghost doctor from the Infinite Realms. It took calling in a few favors to get the information, let alone the actual communication with the ghost doctor, but he could do it.

He was a magic expert, not a medic. This was the only chance Phantom had to ever wake.

Thankfully, Frostbite seemed to know exactly what to do when his large eyes landed on the floating figure in the medical incubator the League had placed him in.

He had assured them he could help Phantom but needed to take him back to his hospital to properly treat the ghost. After the Yeti agreed to an Oath Vow stating he would not allow any harm to fall upon Phantom while under his care.

Another agreement of having John present for Phantom's treatment had solidified Justice League into letting the being move Phantom into the Far Frozen.

A year after Danny Fenton's death, Phantom's eyes snapped open to the relieved Frostbite and the beaming trench coat man.

He had never been so confused when the first thing his doctor said was, "Great One, I am sorry to say the humans believed Daniel Fenton has passed while you were in a coma."

Well.

How was he going to bring himself back to life?

[konigsblog]

Kidnapper-König and his perverse torture methods. (🌽 link)

CW: NON-CON, KIDNAPPING, DARK FICTION. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. MDNI 18+

König doesn't see anything wrong with his cruel behaviour. Of course, he's not completely oblivious and delusional - he knows that it's illegal, but regardless, he craves control over someone like yourself. You're so meek and quiet, shuffling away from his lustful touch when he attempts to pull you in close. It almost always ends in König's large, gloved hand around your ankle, dragging you in close to hold you down.

To König, you're everything he wants. His heart breaks every time you squirm away from him. All he wants to do is dote on you, kiss your cheeks, and slide into your slick hole slowly and carefully. He'd rut into you while pressing soft, tender kisses down your neck and shoulder, preparing you to take his offspring. That's all he desires, a loving family he can call his own.

But, of course, you put up a fight. König gets frustrated at your behaviour more than he likes to admit. He attempts to hold himself back, but it's inevitable. You're awoken to König's calloused hand slapping your face awake, the tightness on your wrists and ankles already sending you into flight or fight mode. Looking down, you can see that you're chained to a chair, with a vibrator against your little clit, naked and exposed to your kidnapper once again. Your breathing quickly picks up, worry visible across your face. Fuck, König has been so excited to introduce this new form of torture to his beloved captive, to throat fuck you and hear your muffled screams, to feel the vibrations against his swollen cock while you squirm and whimper out pitifully.

Before you're able to react, König turns the sex toy on. The sensitivity slowly begins to increase as he drags his thumb across the remote, placing it in his pocket, out of reach from his victim.

He tightens his grasp on your locks of hair and tilts your head backwards, already shoving his hard, meaty cock down your throat before you can let out a plea for mercy. The sounds of your cries harden König's twitching cock. He gazes down at you, his eyes full of euphoria behind the veil he wears. He knows how much it intimidates you, how you quickly quieten down and become obedient. But, with the vibrator stimulating your sensitive pussy, you can't control the moans that flow from your lips. Your stomach churns with disgust at your body's reaction, your eyes welling with tears and your cunt quickly becoming soaked, juices coating your thighs, leaving your pussy sticky and aroused, a meal for König to devour later.

”That’s it, Mauschen. You’re doing so well.” König's thick length silences your screams, stifling your moans and cries, while the chair beneath you becomes wet with your pussy leaking uncontrollably. His gaze is predatory, stalking his prey, thinking about his next meal when he glances down at your slick hole and the mess you've created between your legs.

Oh, Liebling, give into him. This is your fate, accept it.

[witherby]

What would happen if any if the batfamilys enemies kidnapped baby y/n and ended up hurting them badly?

I'm happy to tell you, but not in any fantastic detail. When you say "baby" I think "infant, no teeth, still in diapers, etc."

Content warning for bruises on an infant

--

The contexts in which you would not be with a family member as an infant are very few and far between. I'm thinking a couple of your brothers have you on an outing, like a soiree or a networking lunch for Wayne Enterprises, where they have to put the masks away and act like civilians. There's lots of people around, their attention spans are divided, and they're also counting down the minutes until it's socially acceptable to leave.

When that time finally hits, Dick politely excuses himself and goes to collect you and Tim so they can head home. But he only finds Tim.

And Tim turns and only sees Dick.

"I thought you were watching them," Tim says, immediately turning sheet white. Dick's complexion is the same.

"I thought you were watching them."

Cue the immediate panic. Tim has his phone out and is trying to pinpoint your location via the tracker they put in all your pacifiers. Dick's eyes are sweeping the area for any signs of you having either crawled away or gotten scooped up by some confused and well-meaning socialite.

You are far away, and getting farther. Someone definitely took you on purpose. They don't hesitate before leaving the gathering and radioing backup. They'll handle all the screaming and scolding from everyone else as long as you get back home safe.

Whoever did take you, be it someone from the usual rogues gallery or a rando that likes kidnapping kids, it doesn't take long for them to catch up to him. It also doesn't take long to do any damage, either, so when they do find you, it's unfortunately with some significant bruising. Your chubby cheeks are red from tears and your arms and waist have handprint bruising from being dragged around, but nothing is broken or bleeding.

Your brothers can't say the same for the one that had the balls kidnap you. He should be thankful Jason was already on another mission.

(Jason comes back and pays him a visit anyway. Nobody gets to lay a fucking finger on you.)

In the aftermath, you're almost overwhelmed by the attention. You don't sleep in your nursery alone again for months; either someone is in there with you, or you're simply relocated to one of their bedrooms for the night. You're handled so, so delicately, like you're made of porcelain. It's all very soft play and quiet voices for a couple days. If you flinch at contact, either due to the trauma of the kidnapping or because someone brushed against a bruise that's still healing, there will be tears shed from that person.

Bruce notices you flinch when he burps you after a feeding and he has to sit on the floor with you in his lap because his hands are shaking so badly.

Damian will not touch you directly at all. If you need to be picked up, he's fashioning a hammock to slowly and gently roll you into and then carry you off.

Alfred maintains the calmest facade when he carries you around, but if you make any kind of whine or pained face, he has to take a moment alone to recollect himself.

Dick and Tim can barely stand to look at you. They're overwhelmed with guilt for assuming the other person was watching you and not simply double-checking themselves.

Jason asks Tim if he can do some tummy time with you, and he just straight up shakes his head.

Dick fucks up his sleep schedule keeping an eye on you in the night, because even though Dr. Thompkins cleared you, what if she missed something and you develop a complication and need help? He doesn't patrol Blüdhaven properly for weeks, instead coming over to Gotham to keep vigil at your window.

Needless to say, the general public does not see you again for months, and when they do, you are with the entire family. They will not let that happen again.

[comatosebunny09]

— cw: kidnapping, torture, sedatives, abuse, mentions of r*pists, p*dos, & murder, angst, helplessness, heavy subject matter all around, language, mdni

— notes: a continuation of this blurb. something a little darker than what i usually write. please be mindful that there's some heavy stuff ahead. if i forgot to tag anything, please let me know in the comments. thank you for reading!

— now playing: dusty room - evgeny grinko

An insistent dripping draws you from the inky embrace of unconsciousness. 

It always does. It’s been your alarm clock for the past…three days? Four? Week? You’re not sure anymore. Time moves differently when you’re in captivity, and your mind is constantly invaded and warped.

At first, you could glean the passage of time by the moon or sunlight seeping through the small window in the corner—your captors had shoved you into a spacious room of rotting metal walls and only one entry point. It reeked of mildew and sweat, and you’d nothing but the creak of metal and that ceaseless dripping sound to keep you company.

But your senses are no longer reliable. They’ve poked around your mind so much that it’s becoming increasingly difficult to gauge the difference between reality and fiction. 

Only a few things remain constant during your stay here: the henchman of the day comes in to administer you a dose of something potent with a syringe. Something to ease the ache of your limbs, to curb the hunger gnarling in your gut. But it’s also to keep your Evol tucked in the furthest reaches of your mind. To keep you at their mercy. 

Next, two more men trickle in, sinisterly laughing as they deprive you of food and warmth and keep you lucid. And one of them constantly probes your mind, manipulating it to see and experience things that aren’t always real. Dredging up memories you had compartmentalized after taking up this new life, furthering your torment. 

You would be impressed—their ability is almost on par with yours and would certainly make a man clad in red and black whistle with appreciation—if you weren’t already clinging to your sanity by a thread. 

Your captors have been surprisingly generous, only hitting you a few times when you get mouthy. You’d once heard them say to each other they had to keep you alive long enough to lure your boss from the shadows. Still, you’re sometimes their human punching bag, suspended from the ceiling by chains rubbing your wrists and ankles raw.

They learned their lesson when they first brought you to this prison. When you’d called them pussies and, with what little strength you could muster, took three of them down before they subdued you with stun batons and a heavier dosage of whatever cocktail they’d been pumping you with.

Each time they enter, they ask you more questions. Interrogate you about Sylus and the inner workings of Onychinus. Splash you with frigid water to wake you, inject more serum, and sink their claws into your psyche when you display an inkling of resistance. All in an attempt to bring you to the brink of insanity. To break you. 

You’re a little worse for wear. Bruised and battered. It hurts to breathe when the medicine wears off. You’re constantly shivering, constantly blacking out. You’re sure they’ve shattered a rib or two. And you haven’t much strength left, stripped of nourishment and proper blood circulation for God knows how long. 

You have one good eye, the other swollen shut from their previous assault. Your lips keep splitting, so goddamn dry. They could’ve done much worse. Could’ve violated you in unspeakable ways. So you’re grateful the illusions are seemingly their most potent form of torture. 

No matter how many levels of hell your captors subject you to, you don’t cave. You’re still as haughty as ever. Piss them off whenever you can, fighting back with your tongue in a way that your body can’t. Anything to distract you from the unyielding torment and pain. From your thoughts creeping in, from your mortality looming over your shoulders. 

“He won’t come for me,” you bitterly laugh each time your captors taunt you. “He doesn’t care about me. You’ve got the wrong person.” To which they heckle like hyenas, looking at you as if you’ve said the most absurd thing. 

They tell you you are the right person. That it’s only a matter of time before your ‘boyfriend’ comes sniffing you out. You’re more valuable than any treasure, any amount of money. But you always push those words to the back burner. Those empty attempts to give you a flicker of hope.  

He’s subjected you to danger numerous times before. Thrown you to the wolves on several occasions. What makes this time any different?

One thought reigns supreme in your mind each time they torture you. Each time they fill your head with trickery, visions of him, and memories of past misdeeds. 

If he wanted to save you, he would’ve already come. 

The truth hurts, but it’s somehow comforting. Sylus will never find you like this. Never see how far you’ve fallen from grace, breaking apart at the seams, slowly succumbing to the cold and delirium. He’s got more important things to worry about—more important people to occupy his mind. 

You’re disposable. You’ve known this from the start. 

The notion only rooted itself deeper the moment a certain Hunter disturbed the monotony of your lives.

It was merely a matter of time before one of Onychinus’ most revered assassins was wiped out. 

In a way, your captors are doing Sylus a favor, ridding him of your presence so he doesn’t have to lift a finger to do it himself. You’ve always worried he would no longer find a use for you. Knew you couldn’t always be at his side. And now that he has someone else to play his bait, to bat their lashes at him and tug at those little heartstrings, you know you don’t stand a chance. 

Savagely, you laugh, your face turned up at the silvery moonbeams sinking in through the window. And it hurts, your throat dry like it’s been rubbed with sandpaper. Unbidden tears scorch down the sides of your face. Whether they’re heralded in from agony or hysteria, you don’t know. 

Your solitude in this room is as much of a reprieve as it is a cage. Sure, you’re free to collect what little coherent thoughts you have left before your captors are back at it, shocking you to hell and tearing your mind at the seams. But you’re also left with nothing to do but stew in thoughts of your inevitable demise. 

Maybe this is your punishment. All the lives you’ve taken. All the innocents you displaced when you were a fiery-eyed killer fueled by rage and fear. Murdering coldly, killing because you were told—forced—to. 

No matter how far you ran, the past always snuck up on you. But shielded beneath Sylus’ wings, you were able to delay its descent onto your shoulders.  

Sylus had taken you away from it all. Redirected your ire, your revenge, onto the scourge of humanity. No longer were you a gun for hire, taking out high-profile figures because your very life depended on it. No. Instead, you wiped the most vile men from the face of the planet. Pedophiles, rapists, murderers. And you supposed that served as enough repentance for your life before.

Still, no amount of justification will support what you’ve done. What you continue to do. And all for the love of a man who will never see you as more than a rook. A chess piece, lazily dragging across the board for use at his disposal.

The single door to your prison groans open, dispelling the nebula of your thoughts as a blinding stream of light pours in. You wince against its brilliance, your bruised lips canting up in a sardonic smile. 

Once the new presence clears the entryway, a shock of white greets you. And it’s followed by a wash of scarlet, moving through the bleariness. You huff a painful laugh as the figure nears you, agony swelling in your chest. This trick again. Weren’t they getting bored of using it?

Finding your voice, you grit out, “You’ve tried this one already. It’s getting old. Gonna have to do better than that.”

But your tormenter doesn’t err in their steps. Instead, they hasten their approach until the warmth they carry wades over your skin. And through the dank scent of your entrapment, you make out familiar notes of amber and sandalwood. As convincing as the illusions have been lately, they’ve never smelled this vivid before.

Searing hands curve around your cheeks. Angle your head back until your vision fills with red. Red eyes nestled beneath brows knotted with anguish. Pink lips parted with the effort of breathing. As you fully take in your tormenter’s harrowed features, you slowly realize that maybe you’re not hallucinating this time. And a thick film of tears washes over your good eye, the world blurring and bending.

“You’re getting better at this,” you sob-slash-laugh, still disbelieving. There’s no way he could be the real thing. There’s just—

—no way. Could he? Could it…

Suddenly, the metal chains of your shackles rattle and loosen. And you’re freefalling, loose-limbed and weightless, heading for the ground along with your restraints. But a pair of virile arms spread like wings beneath you, cradling you against a rigid chest, and a ferocious heart beats a war cadence beneath your cheek as you press further into it. 

Weakened by your time in captivity, you feel something prodding around inside your head. Something warm and feather-light creeps through the folds of your mind, chasing away the darkness. It’s a voice—an inherently masculine voice reverberating in your head, working like a soothing balm over your psyche.

I’ve got you, it soothes, dulling the ache in your bones, the maelstrom in your head. And its familiarity is enough to bring a smile to your lips. More tears pour in rivulets down your cheeks, and you cling to the silk of his shirt, unconsciousness pulling you under. He came for you. He really—he actually—

—came.

And as you succumb to fatigue, hypothermia, and hunger, two sentences pierce through the darkness like a lighthouse beaconing through the storm.

“I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all.”

[diejager]

Could you please do a platonic yandere Vladimir Makarov with teenage daughter reader? Where he finds out that he has a daughter and is watching her but after awhile he decided to kidnap her to keep her safe from anyone and anything.?

Cw: DARKFIC, protective dad, kidnapping, spoiling, isolation, platonic yandere, tell me if I missed any.

He hadn’t expected his drunken one night stand to come back to him seventeen years later, at the peak of his revolution and power in the world. It had left his mind by the end of the week, where he spent a night with a pretty woman that he’d approached in the joy and mirth of winning a seat in the political image of Russia, his seat secured and power promised. He was - felt - unstoppable at that point.

Then he learned he had a daughter, a sweet girl that looked like a perfect mix of him and your mother. Thrust into the beginning of your adulthood and the closing chapter of your childhood, you had grown so prettily, adorable and loving. You were perfect in his eyes. Receiving the love of a mother, being pampered by her with the little amount of money she could scrounge to send you to school and provide for you. She truly cared for you despite being a mistake, a regret that reminded her of their coupling years ago.

While he believed in receiving motherly affection, he didn’t like the way you lived. So poor and hungry, denied the riches and luxury of his name and money. He wouldn’t have you live like that. So he took you, flew down to your quaint home, dressed finely and followed by his entourage while he stared down your mother, waiting for you to come back home from school. He’d forgotten her name - your mother - but all that mattered was you. He knew your name, your hobbies and preferences, but he’d like to hear them from you, to know you by your own words and acts rather than the video surveillance and all the digging he had his men do. 

And when he saw you in person, standing anxiously before him, you looked much more beautiful before him than through his screen. He saw the apprehension in your eyes, the small frown that pinched as you fussed about your mother’s fearful expression, using yourself to protect her from him and his men, ignoring her pleas for you to stand behind her, to let her protect you. But you were fiercely protective and loyal, something he expected from his daughter, yet was still surprised by the depth of it, blindly loyal and faithfully protective to a fault. 

“This…” she didn’t know how to explain this situation, he could see it as plainly as the blackness of his suit, “He’s your father, sweetheart.”

Your face broke between pain, shock and disbelief, but none directed at her, only to him whom you glared so powerfully. You were still so determined to protect your mother, knowing that she hid him from you and had never tried to reach out to him —not that he could blame her, he wasn’t a merciful man, neither easily reachable, nor easy to face. 

He gave you his name and smiled, pulling the sweetest grin he could, seeming soft and tender for a ruthless man like him. All for his daughter, the gem that would inherit his empire. Ever so polite, you muttered your name, voice slightly shaky. You took after your mother, taking her last name rather than his, one that screamed power and danger, but he’d have it changed, no daughter of his wouldn’t be given the name Makarov.

He was satisfied with this, and with little need to stay here any longer, he stood and approached you, his hand calling yours to have you accompany him home. He would have you brought home, where you rightfully belonged. On a throne by his side, dressed in the best silk and fabric his money could gift you, given the best education and taught by the best academic in both English and Russian, and if possible, you’d be taught other arts: literature, ballet, piano, theatre and language. 

But he was… somewhat disappointed that you shook your head, declining his invitation to come willingly. He understood that you’d have to start over again, uprooted and starting anew in a strange world without your mother. Truly, he knew how that felt, but he’d grown, he became better and wanted the same for you: to be better and deserve better. 

“Mom!” your cries and scream hurt him, the sound chiseling at his heart, fighting him to return o your mother’s side.

His men held your mother back, careful not to harm her as per his words, he didn’t need her health jeopardised. He had plans of paying her for caring for you, giving her a monthly cheque to support herself, eternally grateful that she sacrifice everything for you. You were now under his care, protected under his watchful eyes and international spread of allies and influence.

“Don’t cry, милая,” he cradled you, seated on his lap as he wiped away your tears, his hushed but steady voice trying to soothe you, “We’re going home.”[darling]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Late Night

Pairing: Dark Hawks x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: Keigo hates threatning you - only when necessary.

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Threats.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

"Hey, c'mon, don't cry..." 

He tries, tentatively reaching with a hand but instantly stopping at the abrupt increase of your sobbing. 

"Y/n? Babe, pretty please..." he sighs, rubbing his tired eyes, "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? It’s getting late and I have to wake early tomorrow."

"Leave me alone." you howl the words out, as if you're a wounded dog. You feel like one, to be fair. Bunched up in a corner of this huge room, face contorted as you cry ugly tears and snot. 

It's only been a week since you were taken from the comfort of your life, and you still can't stop the aching pain that burns your heart whenever you think about it. 

During the day, it’s slightly more manageable to pretend that it’s fine, that you’ll eventually escape him, that everything will be fine.

But as soon as the dark cast of the night hits, it’s like all the overwhelming weight of sad reality starts to wear you down. 

You’re so tired of him. You just wanna go home and hide underneath the safety of your blankets. 

“Babe….”

Keigo sighs once again, leaning back at the adjacent beige wall as he runs his fingers through the blonde hair. 

"Hate to ask, but any chance you can speed this up? Not to the part where you relentlessly beg to go home, to which I'll say no - obviously." Keigo says with such normality as if he’s asking you to turn the lights off.

"Also not the part where you cry your pretty eyes out for another 20 minutes, yell shitty things, threaten me, and so goes on…”

You gulp, with a new batch of tears forming as he tilts his head to the side, lips curling into a half-smile as if your despair amuses him. 

“... but yes to the part where you finally shut up with the hysteria and we go to bed.”

You tearfully glare at him, indignation flaring up at his nonchalant words. 

“I hate you. You kidnapped me!" you continue, half-choking in your own tears, hoping the hatred and anger in your face is enough to show him just how much you hate him. “I hate you!” 

Keigo dismissively shrugs his shoulders, despite the new tension in his jaw as he glances at his wrist watch. 

“I’m not the bad guy here, babe.” 

“You-” 

“If I was the bad guy…” he interrupts you, an unpleasant glint in his eyes showing that deep your words didn’t sit right with him. “...right now I’d be punching a hole into your pretty face for being such a brat. Or maybe I’d be ripping your tongue out with my bare hands, so you won’t speak bullshit like that. Maybe you’d like that better?” 

Your eyes widen at that, body freezing as fear takes control of you. 

For most times Keigo is laid-back and chill, but times like these are the ones that remind you that he’s just as dangerous as a villain is. He could easily hurt or even kill you within seconds, and there was nothing your quirkless ass could do to stop him.

You are at his mercy, much like you’ve always been ever since he took you. 

You hate how helpless you feel. 

Keigo notices your mortified reaction and walks closer, crouching in front of you. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you, babe.” he says with a jovial tone. “But I really need you to behave, ‘kay?”

His hand elevates and he ignores your flinch as he brushes away a few tears. 

“Enough with the tears, you’re too pretty to be cryin’ like that.” he smiles, hand lowering to grab your forearm.

He stands up, pulling you with him towards the bed. 

“Now, let’s go get our beauty sleep.”  

[sentient-stove]

"Hey, um, is this Miranda?"

"It is. Who am I talking with?"

Oh thank god, he was worried he saved the wrong number for a moment there. Danny hit his wrist against the side of the pipe again, the motion doing nothing to break the dampener off. "Cool, um. God. I feel so awkward calling you. It's Danny- um Daniel Fenton? I'm part of the Launchpad Program going on this summer with Wayne Industries? The, um, the like twenty or so high school interns and whatever?"

"Daniel," There was the click of typing and then a hum of recognition from Miranda. "I do remember you, you were the kid that tripped in the lobby and got a bloody nose his first day. Is there something wrong?"

"I, ah, how do I say this without sounding stupid-"

"Daniel, I had an intern call me the other day because she accidentally ended up locked in a custodial closet alone. Nothing phases me."

"Oh, okay. Um, I kinda got kidnapped. Just a little bit." This time, when he tried to bash the dampener off, there was a crack from the bone, followed by blossoming pain when his powers couldn't flood in to heal it. "Also, I think I'm in shock."

"…Previous point withdrawn."

[mint-8]

Platonic Yandere Kindergarten Teacher x GN! Child! Reader

Content/Trigger warning: Mentions of child kidnapping.

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher has experienced a lot of pain in their life, just as many hardships and sorrows have followed them as well. Yet, they never lost their kindness and will to live. They pushed through it all and managed to graduate to later pursue their dreams as a teacher. They wished to give the youth the guidance and love that they themselves yearned and craved for so many years during their childhood.

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher who couldn't really get a job anywhere else other than at the local nursery, so they took the position and passed the interview with flying colors. They are patient, sweet, and attentive to each and every child that ever enters the kindergarten. They are always there to listen to their over excited rablings about what they did that morning and dutifully follow any pretend play the little ones come up with. They skillfully the classroom clean and tidy (well, as much as it's possible with toddlers running around the place), send the babies to sleep during nap time, entertaining them with plays and games and teaching them important lessons about sharing and being polite.

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher who first meets you while they are walking around the town's park. One minute, they are leisurely strolling in a sunny day, and the next, a chubby baby, you is clinging to their legs for dear life. They are used to children being clingy, but that's not important right now! Why is the most adorable toddler in existence alone in here and unsupervised!?

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher is already planning to take you home with them and build the best nursery in the world until they hear the worried cries of someone. Your guardian, seemingly tired and with tears running down their cheeks, yanks you away from Yandere Kindergarten Teacher's hands and into a loving embrace. They are apologizing a mile a minute, explaining how they were so sleep deprived of your nightly crying (bullshit, in Yandere Kindergarten Teacher's opinion) and how they fell asleep on a bench near the playground area and how you most likely got off your stroller and wandered off on your own.

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher is already fuming with rage from the nonsense coming from your guardian's mouth. How dare they lose sight from the most adorable and angelic baby in existence by saying they were too tired? Preposterous! But they are able to keep it hidden, under a false facade of attention and worry. While they listen to your guardian's ramblings, in their head they have already decided they need to be closer to you so as to properly take care of you. Your guardian isn't doing a good enough job clearly! So who better than themselves to properly look after you and give the love and attention you deserve?

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher who mentions the nursery they work at to your guardian. How modern and affordable it is, and how every single staff member takes care of the children as if they were their own! They are delighted when your guardian's expression of tiredness and gloom shift into a hopeful and excited one.

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher is so happy when they see you at the nursery as a new addition to their classroom alongside your sheepish guardian who personally hands you over to them, citing that they 'trust them after last week's fiasco'.

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher can't contain their excitement any longer, and after your guardian leaves the premises, they do a full spin and jump with glee while warmly hugging you! They are so happy their sweetness is here, and they are committed to providing you with the best care and treatment they possibly can!

"We'll have so much sunshine!"

(Happy giggles)

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher is extra patient with you, only reads the bedtime stories you like during nap time, sneaks you little sweets and treats, always prioritizes your opinion whenever they play games, insist to your guardian that you can be left with them well after hours so that they can go and get that bread, throws away the lunches your guardian made and cooks better ones for you, convinces your guardian to hiring them as your permanent babysitter, builds a nursery in their home and prepare everything they will need when they finally kidnap you and brings you home. You know, just small things :)

- Yandere Kindergarten Teacher absolutely loves that you are baby, so it isn't as difficult to deal with you if you were older. But don't you dare think even for a second that they wouldn't love you as much, if not more, if you were any older. Whether you are a toddler, a child, a teenager, an adult, or an elder, their love and devotion wouldn't change in the least. They are more than willing to get their hands dirty for your sake, but the discovery would be extremely upsetting to you, so it's better to work around it. But if worst comes to worst, they won't hesitate :)

"You are the cutest thing in this world, you know that?"

"..."

"The most adorable, chubby little baby I've ever met"

"..."

"I'll make sure to destroy anyone who ever dares to hurt you and fight against the devil itself if it means seeing you smile"

"... Poo..."

"... Of course, sweetie, let's get you changed"

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

The Joker finds a little kid who looks startlingly like Jason Todd and kidnaps him before hijacking all the tv and radios to broadcast the child tied up and scared.

Joker delighted in the child crying for his daddy to come save him and made biting remarks comparing this to Jason! Robin and Batmans failure to save him.

The window nearby shattered and Joker turned around expecting Batman.

He did not get Batman.

Instead there was an enraged 20 year old Phantom, eyes blazing green as he swiftly beat the Joker to death on air. Luckily his kid (who was likely a clone of Jason) was sobbing so hard that he didn't see anything. Danny blasted the Jokers body, engulfing it in a spectral green fire. He then went over and untied his boy before lifing him up into his arms and comforting him.

Danny made sure to get the heck outta Dodge after that, thinking that the bats were gonna kill him.

Naturally when Red Hood started chasing him via motorcycle Phantom panicked.

Red Hood: Come back, I just wanna talk!

Phantom: Oh, I've heard that one before!

Red Hood: Just listen to me-

*explosion*

Red Hood: Was that a grenade?!

-----

Phantom: I'm not sorry for killing the Joker. I'm only sorry I didn't make him suffer more!

Red Robin: Uploads an audio file of what Phantom said to batfamily group chat

Red Hood: *replies with "Stop! Im already a lesbian!" meme*

-----

Just...Jason chasing around a freaking out Danny Phantom and his clone kid trying and failing to ask him out

[yankpop]

Yandere BTS OT7 - Mistake

DISCLAIMER: This is a FICTION work only made for entertainment purposes that includes yandere/dark. I do not support or encourage any type of abusive behaviour. 

SUMMARY: You make a big mistake and now you deal with the consequences.

Check more: Masterlist.

OT7 x Female reader

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping.

AN: I really made Jimin the bad guy here, but I hope you guys like it 💖

--

You hold your breath for a solid minute, staring at the door as it shakes.

The banging on the door progressively gets more violent as the loud commotion outside of the bathroom you just locked yourself in increases. 

The realization of what you did slowly starts to hit you. 

But you know very clearly how badly you’ve messed up. 

“Y/n! Open this door right now!” Hoseok and Jimin yell, angry voices mixing in. 

“Open it right fucking now!” 

“Don’t you dare ignore us!” 

You wince as a hard punch is thrown at the poor door, silently thanking the strong wood for withstanding the boys’s wrath. 

It’s the only thing keeping you safe from a horrible punishment, although you’re not stupid enough to think you can spend the rest of your life hidden in the bathroom.  

“What is going on here?” a new voice joins, overlapping over the rest of the angry voices, and you guess it’s Namjoon from the deep timbre. 

“Look at this, hyung! Y/n tried pushing Jimin down the stairs and now she’s locked herself in the bathroom.” 

You can practically see Namjoon’s brows rising in disbelief. 

The handle moves and upon realizing that the door is indeed locked shut, there’s a new knock on the door, although this one is much softer than the previous ones. 

“Y/n? Is this true?” he questions you, voice laced with disappointment. “Did you try to hurt Jimin?” 

Hot tears prickle your eyes as the struggle to hold them back proves itself to be worthless.

They’re gonna get so mad at you. They’re gonna hurt you.

“N-No.” 

“Liar!” Jimin cuts you off, and you jump at an unexpected fierce bang to the door. “I was trying to be nice and you fucking pushed me away!”

His explanation is twisted and it awakens flames of annoyance inside you. 

Jimin is not someone you would rank highly when it came to the boys, despite having no clear favorites amongst them.

You hate them all.

They’re all kidnappers, for all you care. But Jimin is particularly pushy when it comes to you and you hate him dearly for that. 

“You’re the liar!” you scream back, still maintaining a safe distance from the door. “You…Why don’t you tell the truth, you asshole?” 

You don’t wait for him to reply before continuing. 

“Namjoon, he tried slipping his hands underneath my shirt.” you sniff, cringing at the fresh memory of Jimin’s cold hands sneaking around your belly, starved to touch any inch of your skin. “He touched me, so I pushed him. He- I didn’t realize the stairs were so close, okay?” 

There’s a moment of silence. 

“Jimin-ah, why would you do that?” 

The muffled question from Jin has a light spark of hope igniting in you. Jin is one of the nicest, he’ll surely understand your situation. 

“I didn’t grope her! It was barely a touch!” 

“Jimin…” Namjoon sighs, clearly having doubts over the younger boy’s dubious explanation.  

“Hyung, I’m telling the truth! Y/n is the one lying!” Jimin argued back, his heated temper making his voice rise. “She’s just making excuses for the fact that she tried hurting me. She’s the one who went crazy on me and tried to shove me down the stairs.” 

“I didn’t-”

“She was probably hoping that I’d break my neck or something.” The malicious tone that Jimin uses upsets you. 

“I already said it was an accident!” you try to defend yourself.

“It didn’t look much like an accident.” Yoongi contradicts you. 

“Yeah, it really didn’t.” You shake your head at Jungkook’s words, feeling yourself getting slightly hysterical. 

You want to scream and shout. Of course they’re gonna take Jimin’s side. 

“It was an accident!” your voice is considerably aggravated, and it shows. “I didn’t mean to!” 

“Then come out.” Jimin challenges you. “What are you hiding for, if it was an accident?” 

You ignore him. 

The boys argue back and forth, with Jimin vehemently insisting it's all your fault against Jin and Taehyung, who try their best to minimize your actions. 

Finally, when the argument threatens to escalate into a fight, Namjoon intervenes.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, guys. There’s no point in fighting like this. Let’s solve the situation like adults.”

There’s a softer knock on the door. 

“Y/n? Can you please come out?” 

You don’t even think before throwing a loud no. 

“Sweetheart, please, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Jin tries.

“Speak for yourself.” Jimin’s voice isn’t low enough to go unheard, and the hair on your arms rises at the implicit threat.

“Jimin!” several boys hiss. 

“Baby, please, just come out!” Taehyung begs. "We can talk things out."

“Y/n, we just want to clear up the situation, okay?” Namjoon tries again, using a pacific tone. “No one is punishing you without having the whole story, I promise.” 

You shake your head, heart pounding in your ears as you walk further away from the door. You don’t believe him.

In the end, they’ll hurt you. You know that. 

Curling yourself into the small space next to the bathtub, you bury your face in your arms.

Any previous anger and energy you had is now fully drained, the seriousness of your situation making you dwell into a light depression. 

You’re tired. So fucking tired of them. 

They’ve turned you into a captive, took away all of your life choices, stripped you away from your freedom. All for a poor excuse of love, as they claimed it. 

Obsessed freaks, that’s what they truly are. 

You cover your ears with your hands, blocking away their circus of begging, threatening and bribing. 

You’re not opening the door. 

It takes less than an hour for them to finally get inside the bathroom. 

By then, you’re slightly more anxious, having cried all the tears you had and yet new ones are ready to spill when Jungkook and Jin’s combined strength finally breaks the door down. 

As already expected, Jimin is the first one to stride in, closely followed by the rest of the boys. 

But what scares you the most is the terrifyingly sly smirk that he dedicates you as he bends down. One of his hands grips your hair, aggressively pulling your head back as he leans down to whisper on your ear. 

“I don’t care what Namjoon hyung said before.” he says, “But you’re getting punished. We’ll see if you can even walk after what I’m about to do to you.”

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: implied kidnapped reader, not proofread, yandere drabble, dark fic (ish), Stockholm syndrome implied

"You like it." König grinned up at you, seated on his knees. Though you couldn't see his face, not behind the ages old mask he wore, his squinted baby blue eyes showed his appreciation, his love, his devotion.

In his large hand was a grasped bundle of flowers, roses. Usually such an utterly basic flower, but these were different. Ish. The roots still attached, dirt clinging to the small veiny structures, almost helplessly withering away in his tight grasp. Bits of blood from the pricking of thorns against König's fingers. But he would never expose you to any danger, the thorns sloppily carved off with a knife, little indents of what was.

A breath of air - hesitance.

"I like it." You whisper, body shivering, cold. Covered only by a thin bedsheet, satin and white. König made a sloppy noise of delight, offering the flowers closer. Letting you get a scent of freedom. One he'd take at any given moment; a power he abused, simply because he could.

"Gut.. ja gut.." König purred praises as you sniffed the subtle scent. "Maybe next time, I will let go outside with me. Hm? You will like it, yes?"

Ignoring the tears that slipped out of your eyes with a rough pat to your head. You sniffled slightly, "Love you.."

Words he wanted to hear, words part of you felt. You did love this monster. Your monster and his flowers.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Is it possible to have some more Mr Flavour please?

The first thing he notices is the soft mattress underneath him. It's such a stark difference between the bed of his motel and even the bed at his house that Danny knows he's nowhere near his tax bracket.

There is such a thing as too comfortable. The sinking feeling of the plush pillow around his head is entirely like that.

When he blinks and opens his eyes, he finds that someone has placed him in a large bed with a canopy bed. Shifting about tells him that all four of his limbs were tied to the bedposts, and although he's not pulled taunt, he definitely isn't going anywhere without his powers.

The chains used were long enough that he would likely be able to shift about but not get off the bed. It looks like they were meant to allow him to move in the middle of the mattress, but that's it.

Curiously, he heaves himself into a sitting position, mindful of not going too far in any direction, running his eyes over the bedroom he finds himself in. It takes him a moment to notice that everything is themed around a mushroom forest, almost as if he was dropped in the setting of a fantasy novel.

He realized his clothes had also been changed, starting to look at the silk-like tights and tunic. He felt a weight shift when he moved his back to bring his knees up and lean on them. Glancing over his shoulder, he found a pair of wings strapped to his body.

Danny tilts his head before he goes back to surveying the room, and his eyes catch the mirror of a light brown wooden vanity. His reflection looks back at him with carefully done make-up. He has dark navy blue eyeshadow but with glitter resting on them and his cheeks to remember stars, the twinkle-looking kind. White eyeliner was also used to paint sharp butterfly-looking wings from the edges of his eyes pointing towards his ears.

Metal cuffs shaped like pointed ears were added to his ears, and a pin was attached to his hair, which held tiny little daises, even in his few strands of hair.

A jeweled collar is wrapped around his neck as thick as his thumb, with the North Star resting just over his Adam's apple.

The bed he was sitting in had a mushroom top that spanned out with a bright red cap and white poke dots. He could not see it from underneath it, but it looked like his bed was the steam of the mushroom.

Oscar dressed him up like a garden fairy.

"This feels like it was way too much effort," Danny mutters, staring at his reflection. He looks annoyingly pretty, offended the style fits him so well. He thinks he would have made a way better vampire. At least Sam would find it funny. "I have to handle it to him, though; he knows his way around a make-p brush. Wonder if I can get out of here."

Danny tugs on the chains, pulling his limbs as far as they go before a nasty pop is heard, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to stop a scream. His left wrist is useless, having snapped. A wave of agony courses through him until his healing factor kicks in long enough to snap his bone back, but the soreness lingers.

Phantom was just out of reach still, hidden somewhere underneath his skin.

"Guess not," he sighs. A few minutes pass, and Danny fills the void by reciting the periodic table and their atom masses. But when he grows bored of that, he starts patting his knees to a random beat, making popping sounds with his mouth.

That leads to him singing, at first, a few words from actual songs, then it drifts into nonsense.

He finishes his little jingle for his sodas, creating a rip-off of commercial jingles from home, adding more ecstatic slaps against his knees in a fast-paced drum roll.

He attempts to think of a rhyme for soda, using words he believes aren't real when the wall across from his bed suddenly shifts.

Danny hadn't even realized the open space across from his bed was a door since it blended so well with the flowers that decorated the wall. Oscar stands in the doorway, still wearing his suit and smiling his oily grin. "How is my lovely little fairy?"

Danny waves at him. "Hey, fruitloop. Here to kill me?"

Oscar laughs, steps in, and closes the door behind him. He crosses the room to carefully caress his hair. Danny hisses, but it does nothing to deter the man, who sighs lovingly, "I could never harm you. You're the first of your kind in my collection. Usually, my fairies have lighter hair like those of the forest, but you're from the stars, aren't you? My lovely cosmos fairy."

"Hmmm," Danny squints, "I don't like this. Just kill me."

The man laughs, dragging Danny into a hug by the chain on his left arm. "You are so mischievous and defiant. I should have collected your kind years ago."

Danny allows the hug only to feel Oscar's pockets press against him. He doesn't feel like a key is on Oscar's person, nor does he feel like he is carrying a weapon.

Quick as a wipe, Danny throws out his fist, nailing the older man between the legs. Oscar wheezes, but not enough to make him stumble. He squeezes his arms tighter, encaging Danny, and the pulled chains limit his movements.

Danny struggles against him until his eyes land on the mirror again, watching as his kidnapper grabs the side of the watch. "No misbehaving."

One click later, the North Star lights up. Shockwaves of electricity rush through his body as a scream is ripped from his throat. Distantly, his mind flashes back to the last time he felt this sensation- when he opened the portal on himself. His body spams about as Oscar coos into his hair, muttering reassurances until the power dies.

"Good boy. Such a good boy.," Oscar mutters as Danny gasps against his chest. "A good fairy can be mischievous but not misbehave, right?"

Danny opens his mouth to snap at him when he notices a glow in the corner of his eye. He raises his hands, staring at the familiar sight of Phantom's glow, feeling his heart leap with joy as his healing kicks in. He wonders if he finally got his powers back.

He wills his body to flout, to sink through solid, or even to vanish from sight, but nothing happens. He gains a new piece of his other half, but not nearly enough to turn into him. There is only a glow to his skin for now.

Oscar obviously sees it, for he gasps with delight. "My star fairy, shining for me."

Danny headbutts him, but even though he causes the man's nose to bleed, all he does is laugh and pet Danny like a cat. Another button press has the chains retreating into the wall, flinging Danny back on the bed, spread out and unable to move.

The teen frowns when Oscar eventually leaves him, promising to build him a galaxy room soon. A few hours go by, and a dull ache builds up in his limbs, but eventually, the man returns, setting up some glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the top of his bed. He rewards Danny's "good" behavior by allowing the chains to grow, and he's back to being able to move on the bed.

Days go by like this when Danny attempts to force the man to use the button, wondering if he needs electricity to finally have Phantom back. Sadly, nothing seems to upset Oscar, who chalks every act of defiance as a characteristic of his "star fairy" genes.

Eventually, Danny grows bored, even though Oscar regularly brings him food and walks him to a bathroom where he is ordered to shower—thankfully without the man inside but attached to the chains of the shower walls—and retouches his make-up with great care. His clothes are always replaced with new, clean versions, even with the same design. He doesn't know how long he's been trapped here, but he is sure it's a few days.

"Can I make sodas?" He asks while Oscar is laying behind him, hugging Danny to his chest like the teen was a giant teddy bear. There is, thankfully, nothing intimate about it, just holding him while they slept. "I'm bored."

"Of course. Your kind needs mental stimulation rather than the physical kind, don't you? That's why you made your drinks before; you wanted humans to need your potions." The fruitloop mutters, tucking the galaxy blanket over Danny's shoulder. "I'll bring you things tomorrow."

The following days are a little more leisurely with his soda-making. Oscar had his men find Danny's motel, taking everything he needed to create his Mr. Flavor soda and sets up three tables next to the bed for him to work. Apparently, Danny is his calmest fairy, so the chains around his wrists are removed, and the ones around his ankles increase in length.

Danny can now freely move about the room to his heart's content. Oscar vanishes for hours on end but eventually always comes back every night to watch Danny work on his sodas. He brings glass bottles the two fill, and Oscar hauls them away to who knows where.

Danny can't really tell the time as there are no windows, and the only source of light is one large lamp hanging from the ceiling. However, Oscar's behavior has a pattern. The older man shuts off the giant lamp and lights some fairy lights, leaving the room in a dull glow.

He only does that when the pair go to bed, making him think it's nighttime. Danny carefully counts the hours from there.

One day, Oscar doesn't come back, as the hours drag to what he knows is nighttime. This is his chance. He takes his wooden spoon, the one he uses to mix the syrups in a bored flavor experiment, biting down on it as hard as he can.

Danny grabs his feet, bending them until two nasty cracks are heard. The wood muffles his scream, but even as his healing attempts to fix the damage, he yanks and pulls his limb until it slips through the metal cuffs.

Once they land on the ground with a clack, Danny is hit with a wave of nausea. His tunic is coated in sweat, his head is swimming, and he doesn't feel Phantom, but Danny is free.

A few minutes go by when his healing gets to work to fix the damage as he drags himself to where the door is. The chains had allowed him to wander there, but he never attempted to pry it open.

Today, he not only tries, he succeeds. His bare feet return to a healthy state, allowing him to stand in the doorway. Outside his colorful galaxy, slowly losing the first theme bedroom, is a long grey hallway filled with other doors.

Each door has a number painted in a large black font.

Danny glances both ways, sees no one, and sprints down the hallway on his right. He makes it all the way to the end, where all that's visible is a single door. He looks over his shoulder to where he came from and finds that his room is the last one in the hallway, showing no exit.

He gulps, praying this is the way out while carefully twisting the door numb as quietly as possible. Thankfully, no soul is in sight when he pushes the door open.

The first thing he realizes is that the space is much smaller than his cell, looking more like a broom closet than anything else. Inside, a chair is set up in front of multiple monitors that are all handing over a large desk. Two file cabinets are on the side, but that's all the room there is for.

Squinting, Danny realizes it's a security system. Getting closer, he watches as various light brown hair people dressed as fairies are shown chained up, moving about their rooms frantically and fearfully.

They are all forest themes with a number on the corner of the screen. Danny realizes he knows those numbers and glances back over his shoulder. Sure enough, the numbers are in the same font and color as the ones on the screens.

Well.

Danny hums, rummaging through the office in search of keys. He is alight with dying, but he doubts the other people Oscar has kidnapped are Halfas in waiting. There is nothing on the desk, so he turns his attention to the file cabinets

Inside are deranged notes on fairies' habits. Records of their diet behavior and a shockingly large amount of physical exercise for each kidnapped person are documented.

Apparently, where Danny, a star fairy, needs mental simulation, the forest fairies need to do HIT training mixed in with random types of Dance to keep them happy and healthy.

Number 4 was tap dancing, while Number 7 was doing ballet. It was so unfair. He would have loved to develop some muscle here, making his new desire to break into the grid storage easier.

Maybe he could shock Phantom back. The next drawer has his bottled sodas, which clack against each other. A note about storing his potions for future healing is on top of them, and Danny's face twitches.

Fruitloop.

He considers the drinks before deciding the other captives may need an energy boost to help them leg it when he sets them free. He grabs a premade hanging water cooler, swinging it over his shoulder after checking to make sure his sodas are inside.

Eventually, Danny finds a ring of keys at the bottom of the last drawer. After confirming that the exact numbers are painted on them, he rushes out of the office. He arrives at number 1 with a cheer and flings it open.

A man in his mid-twenties jumps a good foot off the lofted tree-shaped bed. He is also dressed as a fairy, but instead of Danny's blue and purple hues, this one is in different shades of brown, and his face is clean.

A similar color to the one Danny wears is wrapped around his neck, but the centerpiece is a large oak tree instead of a star.

Danny grins, holding out a bottle of cola. "Hey man, want a drink?"

The stranger only has chains around his wrists, which means he can scramble to the back of the wall the second Danny speaks, "What?"

"Oh, by the way, I'm doing a prison break. You in?" He laughs, swinging the keys around his other hand.

Hours later, Number 1—he refused to give Danny his name after the boy attempted to rip off the collar on their necks. Apparently, explaining that he wanted to feel the zap all over his body instead of wanting to set Number 1 free was "alarming"—it had helped him free all nine captives.

The Halfa was the youngest among the group, as everyone else was at least older than twenty, though it looked like ages ranged from early twenties to late forties.

The only things they shared were chestnut hair and earth-themed fairy costumes. Danny stood out for more than just his manic grin and bubbly personality. He offered one of his sodas at every rescue.

Everyone had accepted a drink from the overly cheerful child, who eyed Danny with distrust but was willing to follow him through the last door. It led to a ladder drilled into the wall. Danny volunteered to go up first, ensuring the coast was clear after forcing a latch to open above him.

Oscar had stashed them in a bunker far outside Gotham's city limits. It took some coaxing, but Dannt got the group to wander through the darkness, holding hands so as not to lose anyone. His powers weren't entirely back, but he's always been able to see a bit better in the dark than his friends.

He chatted the whole time, offering more bottles whenever someone grew too anxious. He spent twenty minutes describing all the flavors he made for his sodas, taking careful steps through small dips in the uneven ground. It seemed the bunker was on a hill, isolated from people.

Eventually, they caught sight of a road, and everyone breathed a breath of relief when a car came into view. It was three loops of curling roadways down below. Still, it passed under the only light post, showing a sleek black model that indicated wealth.

Number 3- who also refused to tell him her name- was in the process of thanking the heavens that someone could help them when Danny demanded that everyone drop.

It was gratifying when they all did it without a second thought.

"That's Oscar's vehicle. He drove it at the restaurant." He hisses as the car rounds the cliff's side, nearing them. The air grows cold as the rest of the victims try to hide in the shadows.

It won't work. Despite the fact that they are on high hills, there is no coverage. The second Oscar's headlights were within reach so he would see them.

Danny considers the sobbing Number 3, her once joy now gone, and realizes she doesn't want to be found. Unlike him, if she gets hurt, she won't unlock the powers that had once made him unbreakable.

He takes off his cooler and hands it over to Number 1 with a soft command: "Stay low, and no matter what, don't try to save me."

"What-"

Danny stands from his hiding spot, flinging himself over the edge of the cliffside in a familiar leap and landing with a loud thump on the lower hill. He drags himself to his feet, running in the opposite direction of the group, singing at the top of his lungs his new Mr. Falvor jingle.

Oscar's headlights fall over him as the man hits the brakes. A second of silence later, the car turns on its wheels with a loud screech as Danny rushes to the edge of the second loop.

"My Star! What are you doing!?" Oscar cries, but the tone sounds amused as Danny flings himself over the edge with a cheer.

"Come catch me! I want to play a game!" He calls out, ignoring the ache of his knees, and takes off in a run the second he lands. He hears the roar of the motor as Oscars round the side, foot on the accelerator, and laughs alongside Danny.

He barely makes the leap when the vehicle smashes against the road railing. Oscar had attempted to run him over.

"Oh, you naughty star fairy!" The car is thrown in reverse and starts down the much longer road as the man driving it sings Mr.Flavor's jingle. Danny doesn't look towards the victims, worried he'll give them away, as he whoops loudly and takes over into a sprint.

The longer road bought him time, but now it's just him against a speeding car. There is no light down here, and he forces himself to be as fast as possible. He can hear Oscar getting closer, but he pushes through, wanting to put distance between them and the other kidnapped people.

He uses the fact there are trees alongside the road to his advantage, but beyond that is a cliffside and the crashing waves of the sea. He could jump, but even if that brought back Phantom, Oscar would potentially cut his losses and turn back, catching the hiding group. He weaves through the barks as Oscar drives behind him, yelling about punishments and naughty fairies.

He gets pretty far, he thinks, the hill with the bunker long behind him, looking much smaller when Danny runs out of trees. Then it's just him and the open space. Oscar's headlights bathe him as the man jumps off the road, speeding until the motor sounds like a roaring monster.

Danny can't outrun him, so he doesn't. He stops, twists on his heel, and spreads his arms wide open. He doesn't close his eyes as the lights get closer, and he sees Oscar's mad, flushed face seconds before the metal rams into him.

"KID!" A horrified cry fills the air as Danny is thrown from the windshield. It's like time has slowed down.

He manages to turn his head in time to see multiple police cars come to a stop just a few feet away from him, a man in the process of throwing himself out of his car, one arm stretched toward Danny.

His face is twisted in horror, but Danny recognizes his eyes. It's the masked man who felt guilty the day he was kidnapped. Ha. He knew he was an undercover cop.

Danny hits the ground hard, rolling three times before he lies broken and tired. His skin is glowing, and his hair puffs up a little, like it was electrocuted, but that's the only real chain besides the multiple wounds on his body.

Phantom's powers are still not entirely back.

He feels numb as the background noise of the police swarming Oscar is heard, with one of the Gotham heroes leading the charge with a war cry. Danny can't bring himself to turn his head but watches Red Robin fly by on his motorbike, aiming the front wheel hood of Oscar's car.

He uses that as a springboard to launch himself through the front windshield- already cracked by Danny's body, and attacking the driver like a beast. Police near the car, all with guns pointed and shouting.

Someone drops to their knees in front of Danny blocking his view. It's the same undercover cop who is talking fast and desperate, but Danny can't really understand him because of the ringing in his head. He feels his healing factor finally start, but it's much slower than normal.

Hands carefully turn him onto his back so they can put some pressure on the bleeding coming from his neck. Glass had smashed against his flesh there, and Danny hadn't even noticed.

The man's desperate face fades in and out of focus until his healing finally pops his ears, and sound rushes through his senses.

"-going to be alright!" The man is screaming. "Hang on, kid. Hang on. What's the ETA on the medics!?"

"Five minutes! Keep putting pressure on his wounds, Grayson!" someone shouts back out of Danny's eyesight. Hmm, dark spots are appearing in his vision now. He was going to pass out soon.

He should tell Officer Grayson about the rest of the Numbers before he does.

"The Others...."He coughs, spitting some blood. The man's face spams.

"Don't talk. Save your strength," he commands, but Danny ignores him, forcing his hand to raise and point to where the group was hiding.

"The others...are hiding....I lead....Oscar away.....from them. They need help.....please." He babbles, watching tears gather in the man's blue eyes. He blames himself—Danny can see it clearly as day—for putting the Halfa in this position the day he helped the rest kidnap him.

Obviously, he needed to do it to find the rest, but that doesn't stop the guilt from eating him alive right in front of Danny. He forces his face to twist into a smile.

"Don't be sad....I told you....I wanted to be a ghost." His words are a bit clearer as his healing throbs around his throat, but it's all he can handle. He fells himself, fading as the look of devastation clouds Officer Grayson's face. Just as Danny passes out, he mutters. "Delete Oscar's footage of my soda making. It's my secret formula."

He surrenders the blissful darkness as the ambulance sirens fill the air.

[konigsblog]

one nightstand with obsessive könig.🩸

ever since that one night, könig hasn't been able to get you out of his filthy, gross mind. he fantasizes about the warmth and texture of your slick cunt around his meaty shaft, the way he rolled his sturdy and broad hips back and forth against your tight rear, to fuck and fill your tight cunt with his girthy size.

he remembers every slight detail about your face, your beloved name, the warmth and perfection of your drooling pussy. könig can't hold himself back from doing his own research on you to find your social media accounts and where you work. fuck, könig even attempts to find your address and location, and before he even realise how obsessive and overprotective this is, he's doing some research on your apartment building. it doesn't seem safe enough for someone as precious and loveable as you, by könig's strict standards as someone in the military with such a high rank. könig craves to have you in his strong arms once again, but fears that you won't recognise him because of your drunkenness that fateful, memorable night.

regardless, it's könig's mission to find you whether you like it or not. although he's ashamed and embarrassed to be this desperate for someone, so deprived of your sweet and soft busy, and far too anxious to meet another woman after being so vulnerable with you.

instead, he signs his neverending, creepy letters off with ‘secret admirer’ so that you're unable to detect who it came from. of course, the letters get more graphic, horrifying, and sexual with flowers appearing at your door every single monday morning.

sometimes when könig feel the need to tease you and creep you out a little bit, he'll leave a fun fact at the end of the card, a reminder that he knows everything and anything about you. könig would even go as far as to say that he knows you better than you know yourself.

you're flattered for a while before you're creeped out, but it's all too late when you're awoken to the feeling of könig tightening the ropes on your wrists and ankles while you're laid against the cold, dirty basement floor with a ball gag silencing your pleas for him to spare you some mercy.

[keikikait]

ʀᴇʙᴇʟ ꜱᴜɴ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part three. for part two, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.5k

summary: rafe brings you breakfast and problems arise

warnings: dead dove, do not eat. stalker!rafe, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, manipulation. use of the word 'bitch'. rafe is trying but he's still a freak, mention of drugs

a note: i'm so pissed about episode 10 btw

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Two hundred and eighty-nine days.

You’ve been going through something.

It’s been 289 days since Rafe decided to keep you, to hide you away in his room like a little doll, to keep you on his shelf just for his eyes only. You were so resistant at first, always crying and squirming while he tied you to his bed, always trying to fight back. He tried everything he could think of to calm you down; asking nicely, trying to hold you, pinning you down and covering your mouth. The only thing that ever worked was cocaine, holding you down and rubbing it all over your gums. You were his little druggie, and he was smitten. For a while.

For the past few weeks, Rafe has been slowly trying to ween you off of it. You were getting too addicted, too addicted to something that wasn’t him. As much as he loved you, he didn’t like wasting his cocaine on you just to get you to calm down. He wanted things to be different. He wanted you to enjoy being with him in his big, beautiful house in Figure 8, a far cry from your modest childhood home in The Cut. He didn’t want to hold you here anymore, against your will, he wanted you to willingly be his. Rafe was a strong, powerful, handsome, rich man. Why were you resisting? Is he not good enough for you? Is there something wrong with him? Is he not what you want, what you need?

The cold metal of the handcuffs bite at your skin as you squirm, tied up to the headboard. Although you spent most of your time tied up on your side of the bed, he moved you around a lot; keeping you on the floor underneath his desk as he worked, leaving you on the bathroom floor after you’ve been particularly resistant, and even keeping you under his bed when the police first came knocking after you “disappeared”. People were looking for you, JJ and John B especially, but they would never find you. Rafe would make sure of it. 

He let you up once, watching you with a sharp eye as you padded around his bedroom, stretching your legs out, your arms still bound. You spent your limited time standing in front of the window, looking outside, daydreaming about the day you finally get to go home. You were only free for 10 minutes before Rafe got nervous, picking you up and throwing you on the bed, squishing you with his body weight as you squirmed and wiggled.

Sunlight pours in through the windows, the curtains moving slowly with the fresh spring air. You haven’t been outside since last September, and now as July creeps up, you’re not sure if you’ll ever get out of Rafe’s room. The last 289 days have all felt like a blur, one second it was Halloween, the next second it's Christmas and Rafe is opening your gift for you as you sob, scream, and beg him for mercy. His present to you was a gold necklace spelling out Rafe, as well as a matching gold ring. You screamed and cried and tried to bite him as he put the necklace on, but it didn’t deter Rafe. He jotted all of your misbehaviour down to withdrawals, and he would pack you full of drugs to keep you pliant, satiated, and quiet. He’s never been more happy to not have neighbours. 

His punishment was enough to convince you to keep the necklace on. You spent two days locked in the bathroom, stuck in the bathtub, arms and legs tied behind your back. You sobbed when you saw him, mostly out of relief, and you screamed and begged for him to forgive you. He thought you looked so cute like that, your eyes red, tears streaming down your cheeks, and he forgave you very easily. 

The door softly opens as Rafe steps through, carrying a TV tray packed full of breakfast. Rafe wasn’t the best cook, but he was trying to learn, just for you. After all, he couldn’t hire a private chef if his unwilling girlfriend was tied up upstairs. He smiles at you, carrying the tray over and setting it down on his side of the bed, smoothing down the duvet. “Mornin’, angel. You hungry?”

“Fuck off.” You say, shooting him a glare before looking away from him. 

Oh, he hates when you do this. When you glare at him like he’s the worst person alive. When you keep silent, refusing to even look at him. It drives him crazy. Why doesn’t his angel love him, why doesn’t his angel want him? What is he doing wrong? He sighs, giving you a disapproving look. “That wasn’t very polite, angel, and I was trying to do something nice for you.” He takes a seat on the bed, grabbing the tray and setting it in between the two of you.

“I’m not hungry.” You say, although it’s a lie. You rejected his lunch and dinner offerings the night before, and the French toast in front of you smelled so fucking good.

He lets out a breathy laugh. “Now, don’t lie to me, baby. I know you’re hungry. I know you’ve been starving yourself, tryna prove you’re all big and strong, but I’m not gonna let you do that.” He pushes the tray closer to you. “Aren’t you tired of being all stubborn and difficult? I just want to take care of you.”

“I want to go home, Rafe.” You say.

“You are home, baby.” He says, his eyes hard, although there was some hurt behind his tone. He hated your constant cries to go home, hated hearing you ask for the outside world when all he wanted was to keep you here, to keep you safe and to keep you his. “Why do you want to leave so badly? You’ll be safer here, you don’t have to worry about anything ever again.” In Rafe’s eyes, he saved you, and he wanted you to save your soul for the devil in him.

“You can’t just kidnap me and expect me to be okay with it!” You say, your voice wavering as you start to cry again. “I won’t cling to you like some love-blind addict.”

His eyes soften a little when you cry, his heart beating a little bit faster at the look on your face. God, he just wanted you to love him. He didn’t know why he was being so stubborn, why he couldn’t just force you like he normally would. He bites his tongue, trying not to say anything too harsh. “I don’t want you to cling to me like some love-blind addict. I want you to love me because you want to, not because you have to.”

“You can’t kidnap me and expect me to be okay with it.” You say again.

“Well, I have, and you’re still here, aren’t you?” He says, his jaw tight, trying to keep himself calm. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you, but you’re still not happy. What else do you want from me, angel?”

“I just want to go home!” You say, tears starting to stream down your cheeks.

He scoffs, his words coming out harsh and fast. He’s starting to get annoyed with your attitude. “You are home, you selfish little brat. I’m trying to keep you safe, all I do is try to protect you, and you keep acting like this, like I’m the bad guy!” Rafe scoots closer to you on the bed, putting the TV tray closer to your legs. “Now, you’re going to eat your breakfast like a good little bitch, and then you’re going to thank me after. Are we clear?”

You hesitate, sniffling as the tears travel down your cheeks onto your neck. He sighs watching you cry. God, he hated seeing you cry. He hated how desperate you looked, how beautiful you looked. He was just trying to keep you safe and happy, trying to keep you his. He reaches up towards you, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at him. “I asked you a question, angel. Are. We. Clear?”

You nod. You were starving, and Rafe was even nice enough to bring you your favourite coffee. You should just say yes and try to get on his good side. “Yeah. We’re clear.”

Rafe’s eyes soften when you agree, finally giving in. He liked it when you listened to him, when you were calm and sweet and obedient. He brushes under your eyes with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears. He doesn’t miss how beautiful you look when you cry. “Good girl.” he murmurs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead. You always look your prettiest when you’re obedient. 

You hate the way it makes your heart flutter. Shame is sharp, and your skin gives in so easily.

He uncuffs your ankles, letting you sit up and get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be. Your arms were still being painfully yanked, tied up onto the headboard, but at least you weren’t laying down anymore. “Now, are you gonna be a good girl and eat your breakfast?” He asks, glancing down at the food. 

You nod, trying to get more comfortable. He watches as you shift and squirm, biting the inside of his cheek. He hated that you were still tied up. He hated having you like this. He wanted you to be free, to walk around, to be able to do what you want to do, but he didn’t trust you not to run away yet. He didn’t want to keep you tied up forever. Rafe sighs, taking the mug of coffee and handing it to you. “Here, baby, drink some coffee first.”

You carefully take a sip, trying to not burn your mouth. He smiles a little, watching you sip on your coffee happily. You’re doing so good so far this morning. Not so much crying, no screaming, no begging, just a little hiccup in the beginning. He liked this; liked seeing you docile and quiet. “Good?” He asks, tilting his head at you.

You nod, licking your lips. You were a bit surprised that Rafe remembered your coffee order. “Yeah. Really good. Thank you.”

He’s a bit shocked when you thank him, his heart hammering a little bit faster and his chest warming. “Yeah? You’re welcome, angel,” He feels himself smile, his hand twitching a little, wanting to reach out and caress your cheek, touch your hair. He forces himself to stay where he is. You take another sip of the coffee. He continues to watch you, feeling his chest warm again. He was always a bit thrown off whenever you thanked him, because it didn’t happen often. That was his fault, he knew that. He was always taking you against your will, having to force you into things. “Keep drinking your coffee, baby.” He says softly, wanting to keep you calm and quiet.

You finish the coffee and Rafe sets the mug aside on your bedside table. He shifts around, sitting cross-legged as he cuts up a piece of French toast. Your mouth waters as you sit up straighter. “Did you use the--”

“The brown sugar maple syrup?” He smirks. “Yes, angel, I did,” He stabs a piece with the fork before bringing it up to your mouth, one hand cupped underneath to catch any crumbs. “Say ahh.”

You eagerly open your mouth, closing your lips around the fork and pulling the piece into your mouth. It’s delicious, and you lean your head back against the headboard as you chew, eyes closed.

He feels his heart skip a beat when you lean your head back. God, you looked so perfect. So goddamn pretty. He could stare at you forever. “Good?” He asks, his gaze lingering on your throat as you swallow. He wanted to bite you, mark you up as his. But he had to be patient. You didn’t fully trust him yet, and he was eager to break you.

You nod, opening your eyes. “Really good.”

He smiles, leaning forward and wiping a little maple syrup off your lips. He lets his hand linger on your face, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss you, but he didn’t want to ruin this. He didn’t want to ruin how good you were being. “Good. I’m glad you like it, angel,” He moves his attention to the small ramekin of fruit, stabbing a couple pieces. “Alright. This one next.”

You accept the fruit, eyeing up the rest of the TV tray. You swallow, shifting again. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me, Rafe.”

He knows he didn’t have to. He knows that he could’ve just given you shitty breakfast sausages and an apple and called it a day, but he wanted to make you feel good, wanted to make you trust him more. He hated that the only time you were sweet and quiet was when you were hopped up on drugs. He wanted you sweet and quiet without the drugs, he wanted you to love him the way he loved you. “I know I didn’t have to, angel. I just wanted to.”

You eat some more of the fruit. “Well… thank you.”

He feels himself smile again, your quiet gratitude still throwing him a bit off kilter. Why did you have to be so goddamn cute, making him feel all soft? He could imagine what it would be like if you were willingly with him, letting him dote on you the way he wanted. He would cook you food every morning, give you gifts, hold you in his arms every night. It would be so perfect, if only you would just be a good girl and submit. “You’re welcome, baby.”

You finish the rest of your breakfast in silence, leaning into his hand as he wipes your mouth for you. You shouldn’t be doing this, willing leaning towards your stalker, but… you can’t deny how nice it feels for him to be kind to you. For him to not be screaming at you, holding you down while you cry, drugging you into submission. But if you wanted to get out, you had to play the long game. You had to get him to trust you enough so he would uncuff you, and then you had to wait for the perfect opportunity to run.

He watches you finish your breakfast, watching you lean into his hand when he wiped your mouth. His gaze lingered on your lips for as long as he could manage, feeling himself want to kiss you. You were doing so good, you were sitting so pretty and being so sweet and quiet. He wanted you like this all the time, wanted you to be his good little girl and obey him all the time. But he knew it would take time, it would take weeks to break you.

Rafe piles the dishes high on the TV tray, setting it aside. You lick your lips, shifting on the bed again. Your arms were killing you, pulled tight behind your back, your shoulders aching. Maybe if you were good, he would uncuff you. You take a deep breath before speaking, “Any plans today?”

He notices your discomfort right away, but he didn’t want to risk untying you when you could run away. But you had been so good this morning, he would hate to ruin it. He glances over at you before standing, the TV tray balancing in his hands. “I have a few meetings with my attorney today, but other than that, I was gonna hang around here.”

You nod. This might be harder than you thought. “Attorney?”

“Yeah,” He tilts his head at you, watching you for a moment. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he couldn’t exactly have his attorney come over and risk spotting you. “I’ve got some stuff… going on with my dad’s estate and life insurance stuff. I’ve got to talk to the attorney about legal stuff.”

Oh. Right. You remember the day Ward died, how the entire island seemed to come to a screeching halt, rumours starting to spread of the Kook Prince’s breakdown. You had felt bad for him back then, back before he kidnapped you. Now, you didn’t feel as bad, but you needed to lie your way into getting out of his stupid house. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “It’s not your fault. Kinda glad that fucker is gone anyway.” He sighs, picking the TV tray up and standing. “I’ll be out for a few hours, though. Appointments at 3:30.”

You nod, watching as he heads out of the bedroom, stomping down the stairs. You let out a shaky breath. Rafe’s nice guy act was just that, an act, as fake as the lifestyle he lives and the image he portrays. You were being punished, by Rafe and the universe, punished for being stupid and naive enough to think that you were special, that he would treat you any differently than he treats the others. No matter what he said, you knew deep down that he didn’t love you. He just wanted to get you weak, groggy, and docile so he could take off your clothes and hurt you. If you gave in, he would just hurt and abuse you until he got bored. He would tare off chunks of you to eat before you were nothing but bones. 

You hear him moving around downstairs, putting the dishes in the sink before opening the fridge. You wonder what he’s doing, what he’s getting up to when you can’t see him. You can’t help it. You squirm on the bed as you hear him heading up the stairs again, looking over at the door as he enters.

He smiles softly when he sees you, his little bride, his sweet divine. “You’re squirming again, angel.”

“The handcuffs hurt,” You say. 

Rafe sighs, chewing the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want you to run, but he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. You would have a much harder time submitting to him if your wrists were permanently rubbed raw. He pulls the key off of his neck, looped through an old necklace chain. “Lean forward, baby,” You lean forward, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he unlocks one wrist. He quickly pulls it away from the headboard before reattaching it to your wrist. You were still bound, still his, but he was hoping this would help you finally give in. “There we go. Is that better?”

You nod, relaxing your shoulders. It was still uncomfortable to have your hands behind your back, but this was light-years ahead of being trapped in his bed. “Much better.”

“You didn’t try to run.” He says. 

You didn’t have time to run. “No, I didn’t.”

He tugs you closer to the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He presses your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “Good girl.” Your head spins. He smells so good, and he’s so warm, and fuck you missed being held. You lean against his chest, burying your face into his sternum. He kisses your head again before stroking your hair, one arm tight around your shoulders.

Rafe opens his mouth to speak when there’s a sudden pounding on the front door. Your breath hitches and your stomach drops. You look at him, at the confusion streaking across his handsome face. “Who is it?”

He clenches his jaw, his hands forming into fists and flexing. He walks over to the window, peeking through the curtain, looking down at the driveway.

Shit.

A Kildare County Sheriff’s Department squad car sits in his driveway, and he watches as two officers climb out, a thick manilla envelope in hand. Fuck. Fuck. “Stay here, baby,” He says, watching you as he walks back towards the door. “Just stay quiet, and I’ll take care of it, okay?”

You watch helplessly as he heads out of the room, stomping down the stairs.

He walks down the stairs, opening the front door to confront the cops. “Officers,” he says smoothly, holding back the dread that was growing in his chest. “How can I help you today?”

The officer on the left, L. Hughes according to his name tag, speaks first. “Mr. Cameron?”

“Yes. That’s me,” He says, forcing a smile on his face as he leans against the door frame. “May I ask what this is about, officer?”

Hughes starts to open the envelope. “We’re just doing some rounds, sir. Handin’ these out,” he pulls out a large stack of 8 by 11s. He takes a sheet off the top and hands it to Rafe. “Do you know this girl?”

Rafe takes the paper before looking down at it. His fingers clench, his grip tightening. It’s a missing flyer for you, your smiling face staring at him. It had all of your info; name, age, height and weight, as well as the day you were last seen in Kildare, September 18th. The bottom of the flyer has the Sheriff’s Department phone number and email. Did Peterkin rat him out?

“No, I uh…” Rafe clears his throat. “Don’t recognise her. Sorry, guys.”

“She’s uh… from The Cut,” The officer on the right, J. Patrick, says. “Do you know anyone down there who’s uh… particularly violent?”

Rafe’s grip tightens. He could easily point them in the direction of JJ and John B, hell, maybe even Pope would go down too. “I mean, a few of ‘em, yeah. They can get pretty aggressive. Thought she’s just missin’, though.”

“We’re hoping that’s the case,” Hughes says. “But you know… it’s been 9 months since she disappeared. People are starting to talk, rumours about this girl gettin’ killed. You sure you don’t recognise her?”

They know something. He’s sure of it. Rafe looks at the flyer again. “Nah, I don’t recognise her. I don’t really get to that side of the island very much.”

“Well, the thing is, Mr. Cameron,” Patrick says. “Is that we got an anonymous tip. They said that they were up here not too long ago, and they saw someone that looked a lot like her in your upstairs window. We’re just here to check it out.”

Rafe’s blood runs cold. What the hell? Peterkin didn’t rat him out, did she? He swallows thickly, clenching his jaw. “Alright, come on in then, but I guarantee you there’s nobody in the house but me.”

Fuck. Fuck. His plan was falling apart right before his eyes. He was just starting to break you down, and now you were going to be ripped away from him. He steps aside and lets the officers in, setting your missing person flyer on the table. He leads them upstairs, hands clenched tightly in a fist, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t want to lose you, he didn’t want the officers to even see you, his little rebel laying in the sun.

You’re still on the edge of the bed, listening. You stand up when you hear the officers coming, the beeps of their radios sounding so incredibly loud. Your legs shake as you stand in the middle of the room, frozen in place, clad in only one of Rafe’s t-shirts and a pair of panties. 

You could escape. You could get out of here. You could go home, back to your family, back to JJ, John B, and Pope. You would be able to sleep in your own bed, and take a shower without having Rafe holding you, washing your body and hair for you as you cried and sobbed. 

You could be free. 

But you can’t do it. You don’t want to leave Rafe, and you don’t know why. He kidnapped you, kept you full of cocaine and benzos to keep you quiet and asleep your first few months here. He was hurting you, using you as a little pawn in his game. But you didn’t want to leave him. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you couldn’t leave him behind when he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world for him.

Is he the one? Is he everything you’ve ever wanted?

Will you regret this?

The doorknob twists, and you suddenly crawl under the bed, the bed skirt cascading down the side to cover you.

The officers look around the room. Hughes takes a few glances around, Patrick’s back facing where you are, hiding underneath the bed. They look everywhere but underneath the bed, and Rafe’s heart pounds in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. Why were they here? Why were they doing this?

Rafe had to stay calm. He can’t lose you, he can’t. “See? Told you, it’s just me here.”

“Alright,” Hughes sighs. “Guess it was just a mistake. Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Cameron.” Their voices fade as they leave the room, and you lay under the bed, paralysed with fear. But was it because of Rafe, or because of the officers?

He walks them downstairs, saying goodbye before shutting and locking the door. He quickly heads back upstairs, watching through the window as the squad car drives away. He looks out the window again before walking over to the bed, kneeling down. “Come out, angel.” 

He lifts the bed skirt as you crawl out, body shaking. “Are they gone?”

He reaches out, grabbing your shoulders and hoisting you up. “Yeah. They’re gone, baby.” He sighs, cupping your face. “You did so good hiding like that.”

You lean into his calloused palms. “Thank you.”

He feels his heart flutter when you lean into his hands, his fingers tracing over the smooth skin of your cheek and jaw. “You’re such a good girl, angel. I’m so proud of you.” He pulls you close, kissing your forehead.

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t think I wanna leave.”

Those words almost stop his heart, tears welling in his eyes. He’s wanted this, for you to admit that you wanted to stay with him, that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. “You-You want to stay?” He can’t help how small his voice sounds, the vulnerability leaking out of it.

You nod, burying your face in his shoulder.

He’s speechless, so shocked that this is actually happening, that he’s finally got what he’s been wanting this whole time. He doesn’t hesitate to snake his arms around you, holding you close and burying his face in your hair, his breathing shaky. “You’re serious, angel? You don’t want to leave? You want to stay with me?”

You nod again. “Yeah, Rafey.”

He loves when you call him that, a whine of pleasure building in his throat. He nuzzles his face in your neck, kissing you sweetly. “Oh god, baby. You can’t imagine how happy that makes me. Thank you, baby, thank you so much. I’ve been trying so hard for so long, thank you.” He murmurs against your skin, his heart feeling light and happy, like he could finally breathe.

You knew you were betting on a losing dog. You would never make it out of this house, but maybe you could live with that.

Rafe would always find you anyway.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

this will be the last part, but i have more rafe fics on the way!

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