#female kidnapper

[adgp35]

The Wonder of Duct Tape

Elizabeth Sachs, kidnapper, cat burglar and occasional freelance industrial spy, breathed a sigh of relief as she stood up after she had placed several strips of duct tape over the mouth of Adam, who until then had filled the room with the sound of his whingeing, begging and pleading. “I’m not sure who it was, or when, that saw the potential of duct tape to shut up irritating prisoners!” she said to herself with satisfaction as her hogcuffed victim writhed on the ground, “mmmmphing” helplessly, “but it sure was a genius discovery!”

Elizabeth wandered over to the TV, stepping over Adam as she did so. “Now to watch Killers in peace!” she smiled, placing her gun on the table next to the sofa after clicking the screen into life with the remote. Adam continued to grunt feebly. The female kidnapper looked over her shoulder at the young playboy. “Save your voice for the video, sweetheart,” she advised and turned up the TV volume.

My interpretation of the story behind another example of ira9087’s marvellous fm bondage digital art. He used to post on Deviant Art.

[submission4]

The Kidnapper

“Ssssshh!!” Cynthia ordered Robbie, quickly handgagging her bound captive. “Are you expecting company??”

“Mmmph, Mmmph, mmmph!” replied Robbie hopelessly.

[hbfmguy2]

One More for the Collection

Unfortunately I have had to crop this illustration to make it displayable on Tumblr, but I hope the basic depiction of a professional female kidnapper on the hunt for victims still comes across. I love the look of eager anticipation on the face of this leather-gloved beauty. Harold manages to convey both her excitement and scariness as she closes in on an oblivious male taking a shower.

[dmitriene]

living with kidnapper könig, you fear of him, even though you know you'll never get out, seeing the dark, tall forest that surrounds the small, wooden cabin in which he keeps you, the only reminder of the world outside is your ability to look through the frosted glass window, you still run away from him like a little rabbit.

hiding from him in all corners of the rooms, curling up and imagining that neither he nor you are here, poisoning your head with hopes of salvation, even when könig finds you again and again, pulling you into his strong, beefy arms, stroking you on the head like a cute, docile pet and cooing that he was looking for you everywhere.

you don't know why he doesn't hurt you, doesn't beats you, doesn't humiliate you, doesn't break you, he treats you like something tiny and weak, behaving as if you couldn't cope without his help, in feeding, in changing, in washing, even if you allow your arms and legs to twitch in response to his touch, hitting him, könig only bends and kisses your feet, asking if you hurt yourself, schatz.

he wants to have something of his own, forever his own, to the point of greedy trembling in his fingers when he strokes your soft, innocent body, clean, covered only with his quivering, sloppy kisses with which he wears down every part of your skin, under your teary, glossed eyes, over each of your moles, each bone, over something so intimate like your clothed pussy.

you shouldn't let him touch you there, slobber like a mutt over your panties, now embarrassingly sticky with his drool and your seeping slick, sticking to your puffy, fluttering folds when könig spreads them with a tip of his fat, lolled tongue, slurping wetly, making your supple thighs squirm, squeeze around his head, pulling a pleased rumble from his throat.

könig can't make you moan, but he does, making your vocal chords sing song squeaky, syrupy keens when your tummy cramps, heaves with this intense, fizzing heat that makes you tremble, toes curling, twitching, as you hiccup strained cries while gushing in your panties, letting him taste it, get addicted to your sweet sounds and viscous slick.

shouldn't end up bundled in his predatory, pawing grasp, but you're still here, huddled against his burly chest, while he kisses those glistening, thin streaks of tears that wet your warm cheeks, rough thumb rubbing round circles over your hip bone, as könig soothes you with hoarse words of praise, building a shaky foundation of trust, while you slowly doze off.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[bixels]

vague-posting about this here cuz i don't feel comfortable yapping about my su takes on twitter, but after everything that's happened the most interesting thing about the su fandom to me is that so many are 100% there for applying the "everyone can change and deserves a second chance" message to everyone, even the diamonds. except for one ☝️ she doesn't count. cuz she's dead.

[themochiverse]

Lost | JJK

➳ Pairing: yandere!kidnapper!jk x kidnapped!fem!reader

➳ Genre: Yandere, Angst

➳ Warnings: Swearing, kidnapped reader, jungkook is a bit violent to the reader, implied stalking, implied past assaults, Dub-con/Non-Con kissing and touching, Jungkook degrades the reader, drugging (sleeping pills), implied overdose to kill, suicidal thoughts, hair pulling, and scratches...

➳ Synopsis: When you try to escape from your captor's home one more time, there's always this feeling of lostness, and you don't know why but always feel lost. Lost in thoughts, lost in false hope, and lost in the woods with him.

➳ Word Count: 3k+

➳ Disclaimer: This fanfic is purely from my imagination, I do not intend to harm any Idol or person in any way. Nor sexualising them. Please do not steal any ideas from here, this is all of my work and original work. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR.

Lost ©Copyright -2024- themochiverse - All Rights Reserved

No part of the story can be copied, reproduced, redistributed or transformed into any other form. Meaning no photocopying, recording whether written or electrically. No methods are allowed that use anything from this fic. This follows in the permitted Copyright Law. All images and/or gifs go to their rightful owners.

A/N: Finally wrote something in a while, hope you guys like it :)) Also please don't read if you feel uncomfortable, warnings have been listed above.

Taglist; @minshookie29 @6tslovr @proflyndo @pinkcherrybombs @papijiminfeed @justanotherstarlightmonger @kittykatfey @princess-sunshyn @jinniesjoon94

The dim light in the room emitted a warm, orangish-yellow glow, enveloping the space as your fingers were scratching the corner of a table. The gentle hue seemed to intensify the temperature, wrapping you in a sultry embrace, and causing beads of sweat to form on your skin. As the light flickered softly, your heart thudded in your chest, the rhythm echoing in the stillness of the room.

You gulped, and your foot impatiently tapped the wooden floorboards and it immediately stopped once you heard his footsteps. Your gaze was fixated on the corner of the table— you didn't want to look up.

You wanted to ignore him, wanted to ignore that bile feeling in your stomach that made you nauseous. His boots stomped across the room, getting closer to you and your fingers intensified the scratching.

Jungkook dipped his head towards your neck, his warm breath gently brushing over your skin, as it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were tangled in the locks of your hair, and he pulled it gently. He kissed the side of your neck and rested his chin on your head.

"Food's cold."

Your eyes darted to the plate of food he had given you not long ago, and you hadn't touched it since he left for some errands. Normally you would eat the meals he made for you but your mind was eating you up, the constant thought of him possibly knowing you tried to escape last night.

But how would he know? Even if you had slipped a pill into his meal, which knocked him out for about thirty minutes, how would you escape? When you opened the front door the chilly air that hit you caused you to blink several times.

You were free. You finally get to leave.

But as you took the first step outside, your eyes scanned the tall trees that decorated the entire area. Your heart sank. You couldn't get out of this place because you don't know how to.

Where would you go even if you had run deep into the woods? Would you even find a road? A path that could lead you to a sane person? You tried to reason with yourself as you looked back inside. This was your chance to get away from a monster like him, you could report him to the police and go back to your family and friends...

But what if he found you? What if you were lost, and by the time he woke up and figured out you were gone, what would he do? He'd go berserk, and he will find you. You don't know why but you're certain of it. You don't know the woods very well unlike him.

Jungkook knows his way around this deserted place, he's lived in this small cabin for years now, and he held you captive for months now. Of course, he would know, he prepared it just for you. What if you died while trying to escape? What if—

You closed the door as your back rested against it. You were so pathetic, so hopeless.

You stood up and walked up the creaky stairs, entering the bedroom where Jungkook was sleeping on. The effect of the pill even had such good timing that it hit him when he was getting ready for bed with you anyway.

Yet, you wasted it.

A scream was lodged in your throat, and your lips trembled. You hated to cry, but you couldn't help it. The warm tears trailed down your face as you crawled onto the bed.

Kill him.

Your own mind spoke to you, and your breaths shook as you heard your next words.

Go on. Wrap your hands around his neck, and kill him.

Decorate him like a bow on a present, and kiss his lips until you can't breathe anymore.

Your eyes widened when your hands were on his neck. They squeezed the fragile base, and you could feel his pulse. Slow and rhythmic, and it matched the quiet breaths he let out.

You inspected his face, and his hair fell on the top of his eyebrows, his eyelids were shut and his lips were parted open.

He was demented, a cruel person. You won't ever forget the things he did to you, how you felt so humiliated because of him. He took you away from your loved ones just so he could selfishly keep you and show his immense love curated just for you.

But you still couldn't do it.

You pulled your hands away quickly and Jungkook's fingers twitched. There wasn't much time left till he woke up. If you killed him, you would have won and lost at the same time.

You had no idea where you were, and there was no cell reception for you to call anyone. How would you prepare food, and fend for yourself? You don't even know a pathway that could help you to leave this damn forest. What would you do without him? But at least he would be gone.

You sighed and wiped your tears away, and you curled up next to him. You don't know why but your hands automatically reached out to play with his hair until you fell asleep. You don't know why but there was a part of you that didn't want to leave him.

You snapped back into reality once you felt Jungkook slither his arms down your shoulders as he murmured softly.

"Come to the bedroom with me, baby."

You didn't hesitate to follow behind him, and even if you didn't want to come he'd force you to anyway. Jungkook shut the door once you stepped inside the bedroom, and he took off his leather jacket before he put it back on again.

He sat on the edge of the bed and checked out the dress you wore for him. A white mini dress adorned with white laced straps, and the soft, flimsy part stopped on your thighs midway. The embodiment of the outfit hugged your structure beautifully like a doll, and Jungkook couldn't control his growing desire for you.

He patted his lap, and his words came out in a command.

"Sit."

You took a step forward, and Jungkook grabbed your waist, making you sit down on his lap. One arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, and his other hand gripped your chin. Your faces were inches away from each other as Jungkook stared at you intently.

"You wanna tell me something, beautiful?"

Dear god no..

You shook your head at him, watching his lips form into a frown.

"Don't lie to me sweetheart, you know I don't like lying."

His tone had turned serious, and your stomach churned uncomfortably. Jungkook shuffled his arm to get something from his pocket, and he retrieved the item, showing it to you.

"What were these doing under the bed, baby?"

He shook the container filled with sleeping pills, (blue and white) and your fingers dug into his shoulders firmly. Your eyes were filled with terror, and panic flooded in your veins.

Jungkook chuckled at your reaction, and he brought your chin closer to his face. You were forced to stare at him, to look into the eyes that frightened you almost every day, no matter how loving he tried to be.

They were crazed...a look you never wanted to see. His tongue peeked out from his lips, and it traced the silver piercing that was on the flesh of his lips.

"You really think you knocked me out last night?"

Your heart banged against your ribcage, and your breathing increased. He can't know, he can't, he can't, he can't-

"Did you think I wouldn't notice the little act of you wanting to cook for me all of a sudden? Huh?"

Jungkook squeezed your cheeks harshly, and his lips moved against your cheek.

"I wanted to play along. Give you that feeling of being triumphant over something ridiculous. You really are a fool, aren't you?"

Your eyes darted away from his, and your hands were off his shoulders. You yelped softly when you felt him push you even further into him, your chests touching each other as he made sure he held you more securely.

His hand flew to your neck, and he grabbed it roughly, and his nails dug into your skin.

"Eyes on me when I'm fucking talking to you. And don't even think about fighting back." Jungkook's eyes narrowed and darkened as he spoke right against your quivering lips.

Your heart was beating rapidly, and you felt suffocated as if the smoke from a wildfire was in the room. He found out...Jungkook found out.

"When you tried to choke me- honestly...I was surprised. But I knew you didn't have it in you. You wanna know why? It's because you're a fucking pussy, baby. You don't have the guts to kill someone."

A laugh vibrated wholeheartedly from his chest and you felt his cold hand drawing circles on your thigh. He put his lips towards your neck, taking a long inhale before he spoke again.

"You were such a good girl a couple of days ago, what happened to that good little girl who listened to me? Hm?"

You wanted to get out of his grip so bad. Your palms, slick with fear adhered to his shirt like trembling moths ensnared in the silky strands of a spider's web. Your delicate touch betrayed the intensity of your uneasiness with each shuddering breath you took.

Jungkook pulled away from you, a sudden thought coming to his mind. He stops drawing circles on your thighs, and he tilts his head slightly.

"I'm going to give you a chance to run away, okay?"

No.

"Gonna count till...thirty, and you're going to run into those woods as fast as you can."

Stop.

"If I find you..." his hands slide up on the side of your body, arms encircling around your back, "I'm gonna shove these down your pretty little throat, got it?"

Jungkook motioned to the sleeping pill container, sending a wave of goosebumps flying over you, and the hairs on your neck stood as you took a solid gulp. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours before he pulled away. His arms loosened around your back, brushing your hair away from your face. He lowered his forehead against yours, murmuring softly.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

For a moment, you were in a daze, lost in his eyes, captured in them. You didn't want to leave since he was probably messing around with you. You couldn't help but continue to stare at his doe eyes as your reflection glowed inside those dark eyes.

How were you so lost in them? Lost in the eyes of a man who kidnapped you, claiming he loved you. You were lost in your life, alone with no proper companion. Your life was already ruined, and you ached to be loved by someone. That's why he took you because he had a reason, and you didn't have a reason to deny it. You needed someone, and Jungkook claimed that he was the one.

He's observed you before, and you caught his eyes like a hawk once you bumped into him on your way to work. That's why he was able to snatch you on a cold Winter night, and he caught you, his prey, so easily. Why? You were lost, just lost in reality, lost in your depressive thoughts, and lost in love. You were just a poor girl lost in her delusions and wondering if your life would have been different if you had chosen the right decisions. You didn't notice him walking behind you, advancing on you before you could even utter a single scream.

It was an impulse and before you knew it your lips attached to Jungkook's moving ones. You grabbed onto his shirt, kissing him with soft movements.

Kissing him till you couldn't breathe anymore.

His hand was tangled in your hair and he pulled you closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. It was like Jungkook got the message, you wanted some hope, false hope to be exact. His tongue prodded at your lips before it slipped inside, and your body was growing hot as you both made out.

You almost let out a whine when he sucked and nipped on your bottom lip before he pulled away. You watched the way his chest rose and fell before a breathy laugh escaped his lips. His eyes scanned your face, and Jungkook grinned. He brought his hand to your face, wiping fresh tears off your face.

You were crying? Of course, just lost again but lost with him in an intimate moment.

He cupped your face, and his head beckoned to the door.

"Still haven't finished yet, baby, I'm close to twenty, you sure you don't wanna run now?"

You let out a quiet sniffle, getting off of him and once you left the room you sprinted down the stairs. You didn't bother to put your shoes on as you ran into the woods, your white socks already muddied. You ran and ran, and this time you noticed yourself crying. Why has your life turned into this? Why did you kiss him?

Your body shook with each step you took and each shuddering breath made you want to give up. It was completely dark, and the tall trees engulfed the entire area. There was barely any light, how were you even going to get away from him? The wind blew harshly over your face as you slowed down, stopping at a trail that seemed endless.

You wanted to laugh, but why did you even attempt to escape yesterday? Why did you even think about escaping in the first place? You know what happens, Jungkook has taught you several times but you just don't stop. Your life was shitty, your family disowned you because you were a disappointment to them. Your friends were toxic and fake, and you were alone. And you hated that.

Is that why you kissed him?

You kissed him because he was the only person who knew what your life was like, you kissed him because you were scared or maybe you kissed him because you were lost in the emotions you felt about him, and about yourself. There were moments when you were sad, and the next when you felt angry, rebellious, hopeless, irritated and lost.

Just run.

Just fucking run and stop thinking.

You're getting lost in your thoughts again, and he was going to catch you if you didn't stop now.

So you ran, and your heart was throbbing in your ears. Twigs snapped, birds cawed and for a second you thought you heard Jungkook.

You could hear another set of footsteps behind you, and the realisation dawned upon you. He's right behind you. You forced yourself to run even faster, ignoring the cuts that were plastered on your skin. You were running out of breath and your legs wobbled, they began to ache. You can't give up when you've come this far.

You can hear him getting closer to you. When you looked up straight ahead, there was a faint light that glowed uphill. A light! It could be a car, a home, or somebody. You bit your lip as you tried to go uphill, the pain in your feet grew as you stepped on sharp twigs and debris, desperately trying to climb up. You squinted your eyes to see a road, and your hope grew instantly.

You could leave, you could find someone and call for help, you could finally get away from him—

Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. A scream erupted from your throat, and you thrashed in his hold.

No— you were right there, you were about to escape.

A sob broke from your lips as you kicked your legs, doing anything to get out of his hold. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, his hold on you tightening.

"Shh," his voice didn't soothe whatever you felt right now, "if you fight me back, I swear I'll make it worse for you."

The threat hung in the air, and it immediately made you stop your movements. Jungkook pushed you down to the forest floor, the wet soil coated your white dress, and this time the scratches stung even more.

"I was going to take you back, but look how far you made it. Almost made it out of here." A smirk formed on his lips as he took out the sleeping pill container.

"How does three sound?"

His words were a blur to your ears as you stared into the far distance. The light was still glowing brightly and soon a car drove by. You sobbed and your nails dug into the ground. Just a bit more time and you would've been free.

You felt the back of your head yanked up, and Jungkook's hand tugged your hair as you glared at him with furious eyes.

Jungkook whistled, smiling as he popped open the container.

"Don't look at me like that, you should have left the moment I started to count."

Your eyes fell to the water bottle next to him and that's when it hit you. Jungkook giggled at your reaction as he unscrewed the lid on the bottle.

"Came prepared because I knew my girl would get lost in these woods pretty fast, and far."

One hand gripped your jaw, and Jungkook pushed the pills inside your mouth. And he gave the bottle to you.

He wanted you to do it because he knew that you knew you lost. Your hands squeezed the bottle, and you brought it to your lips before chugging a good amount to swallow the pills.

"Did you say three?"

You asked him with a hopeless look.

"I lied," he said, watching you with a gleam on his face, "and gave you two instead because I don't want to kill you."

You wanted to laugh at that, maybe you should have just taken three. The effects soon hit you, and your eyes became sluggish, and your eyes blurred with tears. You lost your grip on the floor, and Jungkook swooped you into his arms effortlessly. His face was blurred as he was taking you back to the cabin. Just before your body shut down, right before your tears escaped and your eyes closed, Jungkook murmured to himself quietly, and a mixed feeling of hope and happiness washed over him.

"You're lost again, baby."

[pipsqueaks89934]

December 18th: Homemade Christmas Dinner

Warnings: mentioned kidnapping, kidnapping, kidnapping family, Yandere family, Yandere stuff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That was eventful!” your kidnapper said as he walked into the house behind you.

You two had just gotten back from Christmas at his family's house and all you can say is yes it was eventful. All of them were like you and your so-called husband and it wasn't hard to tell which one was the kidnapped one.

“At least we're home,” you sighed as you set everything that you were holding on the floor by the tree. “It's almost dinner time and we still haven't opened our presents yet.”

“Do you want to start dinner or do you want me to?” your husband asked as he set the rest of the stuff down on the floor as well.

“I’ll unpack everything while you start dinner,” you said as you looked at all the luggage and presents on the floor. “We sure got a lot of junk from your family didn't we?”

“Yeah,” he said while wrapping your arms around you. “They love you though.”

“Especially your brother,” as you said that you felt his arms wrap tighter around you. “He was also the only one who did not have anyone.”

“I don't want you around him anymore,” he whispered in your ear before slowly letting go of you. “I'm going to go start dinner.”

“Okay, baby,” you whispered before turning around so you could kiss his cheek. “I'll put all this away.”

You started by taking your and your husband's suitcases to the laundry room and putting all the dirty clothes in the laundry basket. After you put all the dirty clothes in the laundry, you took your and your husband's suitcases to y’all’s room so you could put all the clean clothes away. Once you were done with that you put the suitcases away in the storage closet before going back to the living room and taking out all the gifts out of their boxes and bags.

This is some cool stuff!

You put the gifts that belonged in your and your husband’s room in that room before putting the other gifts away in their corresponding rooms.

Finally done!

“Babe, I'm done putting everything away,” you said as you walked into the kitchen. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”

“Uhh yeah,” he said before pointing at the oven. “Can you please get that out the timer is about to go off?”

“Yeah,” you said as you walked to the oven. “I can do that!”

You grabbed the oven mitt as you opened the oven door before putting the mitten on and taking the food out. After taking out the food you set it on top of the oven before closing the oven door and taking off the mitten.

“Anything else you need from me?” you asked as you looked at your husband.

“No,” he said as he turned to look at you. “I don't think so.”

“Okay,” you said before putting your arms around him. “When can we eat?”

“Now if you want but some of it will be hot,” he said as he put his hands on your waist. “But we can wait if that's what you want.”

“No,” you said as you pulled away from him and got a plate. “I want to go ahead and eat our homemade Christmas dinner before opening presents.”

[yander-city]

Loading resident information…

Yandere husband/kidnapper

Pyriv Falor

——————

Proceed…?

—————————————————————————————————————

Name:

Pyriv Falor

Appearance:

Dark reddish-blonde (HAIR)

Light hazel (EYES)

Light-medium tan with olive undertone (SKIN)

Occupation:

Management consultant

Age:

[UNSPECIFIED]

Known family:

Dahlia Falor (MOTHER)

Alejandro Falor (FATHER)

Personality [Host’s experience]:

“Pyriv is astonishingly normal on the surface, I had no choice but to scan his storyline to spot any proper reason as to why we should've admitted him. It's bold of me to declare that this is one of the worst cases I've laid eyes upon since [REDACTED]. This location makes an adequate home for him, he lives normally among everyone else as a proper citizen, unfortunately, I just can't shake the information I read from my mind…”

Found background:

According to the background check, there are no signs of Pyriv having a troubling childhood. He grew up in a loving household, with loving parents who care about him. The only “troubling” thing we could find is how attached his parents were to each other, causing Pyriv to see things he shouldn't have.

What had caused Pyriv to be the disturbing individual he is now? Speaking with uncertainty, it could have been exposure to excessively adult content and speech as a teenager. There is little evidence proving this.

To the present day, Pyriv is forcefully your husband.

Trivia:

Pyriv frequently works from home, only attending work in person if absolutely necessary.

Pyriv is a dominating and physically threatening person, he attempts to remain kind and soft to ensure your trust. But everyone has their limits.

Pyriv craves a traditional family life, double the amount of children.

More information will be implemented…

Feel free to ask questions…

[jesterfairy]

.♠︎.💜 𝐀 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 💚.♠︎.

Chapter 1: The Game Begins

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

Chapter Word Count: 5,487

Fic Summary: Alina Vale dreams of escaping her dead-end life as a diner waitress, finding solace in painting Gotham’s haunting shadows. But when a routine trip to the bank turns into a living nightmare, she finds herself face-to-face with the Joker—a man as captivating as he is terrifying.

As his twisted games unravel her defenses, Alina is forced to confront the pull he has over her, a collision of fear and desire she can’t control. Trapped in his world of chaos and power, survival means facing not only him but the darker parts of herself he’s brought to life.

A story of obsession, control, and the intoxicating allure of letting go.

Genres: Dark romance, Gothic romance, Stalker romance

Pairings: TDK Joker x Female OC

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: non-con, extremely dubious consent, violence, psychological manipulation, kidnapping, stalking, slow-burn, toxic relationships, trauma bonding, childhood trauma, graphic sexual content, stockholm syndrome, dead dove do not eat

A/N: This story is the result of my obsession with imagining what it would truly be like to fall for the Dark Knight Joker and how such a twisted romance could unfold realistically while keeping the Joker in character as much as possible.

If you love dark romance with toxic dynamics, morally gray situations, and tons of smut, you’re in the right place! Please be warned though, this story is going to be quite dark with a lot of extremely dubious consent bordering on non-con. Please mind the warnings.

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

Chapter 1: The Game Begins

The sky above Gotham was an unbroken sheet of slate-gray clouds, pressing down on the city like a suffocating blanket. Relentless rain poured over cracked sidewalks and grimy streets, turning everything into a slick, shimmering mess. The cold bit through Alina Vale’s coat as she pulled the hood tighter around her face, the black fabric already soaked through from her walk. It wasn’t supposed to be like this—her day off, a rare reprieve from the monotony of her waitressing job, ruined by late rent and a malfunctioning bank app.

Everything always felt heavier in Gotham, especially on days like this. The towering buildings loomed like sentinels, their Gothic spires dark and imposing against the stormy sky. It was a city that ground you down—and Alina had never felt strong enough to fight it.

She shivered as she pushed open the heavy glass door to Gotham First National Bank, the warm air inside a stark contrast to the chill outside. Her combat boots squelched as she stepped inside, the hem of her short grey dress swaying over her black tights as she scanned the room. A line of impatient faces greeted her, all waiting for their turn at the counter. No one noticed her, everyone too caught up in their own misery.

Alina wiped the rain from her face, her mind drifting as she waited. Overdue rent. The landlord’s cold, cutting voice on the phone. Her own pale reflection in the mirror that morning—a face she barely recognized. It wasn’t just these problems that made her feel small. It was everything. Her life. Her past. The choices she’d made—or failed to make.

The door creaked open behind her, and an elderly man shuffled inside, his cane tapping lightly against the marble floor as he closed the door behind him. He stepped into line directly behind her, shaking off the rain from his coat with a slow, gentle motion.

“Cold out there today, huh?” His voice was soft but carried a warmth that contrasted with the bitter weather outside.

Alina turned, meeting his gaze with a small smile of her own. His eyes crinkled at the edges, and for a moment, the weight she carried felt a little lighter.

“It’s awful,” she said, her voice a bit brighter now. “I wasn’t prepared for it to get this bad so fast.”

The old man chuckled, nodding in agreement. “But it’s Gotham. We’ve seen worse.” He gave a little shrug, leaning slightly on his cane. “Stick with it. Something about you tells me you've got the spark to handle it.”

Alina felt a flicker of warmth at the unexpected kindness. "Thanks," she murmured, her voice warm with gratitude. "I guess we Gothamites are tougher than we look."

The man smiled warmly, his kind eyes twinkling. “That’s the spirit.”

For the first time that day, Alina felt something other than dread. It wasn’t much, but in Gotham, moments like these were rare, and that made them worth holding onto. Still, as she stepped forward in line, the brief warmth began to fade, replaced by the familiar weight of her worries.

Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched her wallet and paycheck. It was barely enough to cover the rent. Once it was gone, she’d be back to nothing, scraping by until the next payday.

And then in an instant, things got so much worse than she ever could have imagined.

The doors to the bank slammed open, the sound reverberating through the marble walls like a gunshot. Alina flinched, turning to see a group of masked men pouring into the room, guns raised. Panic spread through the crowd like wildfire as people screamed, dropping to the floor.

Alina’s heart stopped when she saw him.

The Joker.

He strolled in behind the gunmen, his presence commanding the room instantly. Rain dripped from his soaked purple trench coat, clinging to his tall, lean frame. The grotesque smile painted across his face twisted unnaturally, the scars at its edges seeming almost alive.

She had seen his face on the news countless times, heard whispers of the chaos he left in his wake, but nothing could have prepared her for this. He wasn’t just a man; he was chaos incarnate, a force pulled straight from Gotham’s darkest nightmares.

But he was real. And he was here.

The room fell silent, fear pressing down like a rising tide. Alina dropped to her knees, the cold marble biting through her skin. Her pulse roared in her ears as she stared in disbelief.

The Joker himself—standing mere feet away.

All around her, the hostages were frozen and pressed to the floor like statues. No one moved, no one dared to.

The Joker sauntered lazily into the center of the room, his shoes flinging water across the polished marble floor. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as the terror settled around him, as though this moment—a masterpiece of fear—was something only he could create.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, his voice an unsettling blend of gravel and silk, low yet playful. It carried a theatrical lilt, every word dripping with mockery and menace, pulling the attention of every terrified soul in the room. “What a wonderful day for a little... social experiment.”

The words hung in the air like a noose tightening around each hostage’s neck.

Alina’s stomach dropped. She didn’t need to hear more to understand that whatever he had planned wasn’t going to be quick. This wasn’t about money or valuables. This was about them—the people trapped here with him.

The Joker continued to move with unsettling grace, each click of his shoes echoing like the toll of a distant bell. Every gaze was fixed on him, as though the air itself bent toward his presence. His grin sharpened as he prowled the sea of horrified faces, dragging their fear into the light.

And then his eyes found her.

Alina felt it immediately—his gaze cutting through the crowd and sinking into her like a blade. It was more than being seen; it was being pinned, dissected, exposed. Her chest tightened, her heartbeat drumming a frantic rhythm she couldn’t control. She froze, every instinct screaming at her to stay invisible, but her stillness only seemed to deepen his interest.

Surely, she wasn’t imagining it—was she? The weight of his stare felt deliberate, as if he had singled her out for reasons she couldn’t grasp. Then, with a flick of his head, he moved on, the connection cut as abruptly as it began.

The sharp clap of his hands cracked like a whip, slicing through the oppressive silence.

Hostages jolted, some gasping, others shrinking into themselves as if the sound could strike them. The Joker’s grin widened, his jagged scars pulling tight across his face as his tongue darted out, a slow, serpentine flick over scarred lips, savoring the terror that hung heavy in the room.

He spun on his heel, arms thrown wide. “Oh, come on, people! Don’t get so jumpy.” His strange voice leapt between high-pitched glee and gravelly menace, each word twisting unpredictably. “We’re just gonna play a little game! Simple rules: I explain. You play. And we’ll see how many of you… walk outta here.”

He chuckled, a rasping sound that danced dangerously close to genuine delight. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”

A chill raced down Alina’s spine. She had heard about the Joker’s games—on the news, whispered in the streets. He thrived on pushing people to their limits, making them squirm and break. And now, she was caught in the middle of one.

One of his henchmen dragged a wooden chair to the center of the room, its legs scraping loudly as he set it down. It stood before the group of terrified hostages like an altar, foreboding and terrible.

The Joker circled it slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. His fingers trailed along the back of the chair as he spoke, his voice soft but clear, carrying through the deathly silent room.

“This chair,” he began, “is where the magic happens. One by one, each of you will sit in it. And once you do, you'll have a choice.”

He paused, savoring the fear radiating from the crowd, his expression sharp with twisted delight.

“Option one ends this nice and quick: die a hero. I shoot you, and everyone else walks free. Simple. Noble. Clean.”

The weight of his words struck Alina like a blow, stealing her breath.

“Option two,” he continued, his voice dropping into a chilling drawl, “you pick someone else to die in your place. Round and round we go, until someone decides to end the game the right way.”

The hostages remained motionless, their eyes wide with terror as the realization of their fate settled over them like a choking fog. Alina struggled to still her racing heart; she was trapped, just like the rest, at the mercy of a madman.

“But here’s the fun part,” he said, his voice dripping with glee. “If you refuse to play, if you think you can just sit there and wait it out. Well…” He trailed off, raising a gloved hand toward the back of the room, where one of his henchmen stood, holding an assault rifle.

“This is Ernie,” the Joker said, gesturing with a casual flick of his wrist to the hulking man. Ernie was tall and broad, his face hidden behind a clown mask frozen in a sinister smile, the grim weapon cradled in his hands like a precious toy. “Ernie here will handle... the messy part. Can’t decide? Ernie will decide for you. And trust me—he’s got great aim.”

Ernie gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod, the eerie grin of his mask fixed on the terrified crowd.

The Joker stepped closer to the chair, his tone growing darker. “Everyone gets twenty seconds to decide—tick-tock, tick-tock. If you let the time run out, Ernie makes the call, and let’s just say he’s not picky.”

The Joker clapped his hands together suddenly, the sound sharp and jarring in the tense silence. “Now, why don’t we show everyone how this works, huh? Ernie, my friend, would you be so kind as to give them a demonstration?”

Before anyone could react, Ernie raised the shotgun with chilling precision, his gaze momentarily sweeping the crowd. Panic rippled through the hostages as his focus landed on a man kneeling at the back.

Without a word, Ernie pulled the trigger.

The blast echoed through the bank like a thunderclap as the doomed man crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap, blood splattering across the white marble in a stark, violent display.

Screams erupted from the hostages, their fear spilling out in a wave of horror and panic. Bile rose in Alina's throat as she stared at his lifeless body. This was real— it wasn’t some twisted bluff. The Joker was going to kill them, one by one, unless...

“See?” the Joker said, as he nonchalantly motioned toward the fallen man. "No hesitation, no mercy. Wasting time wastes lives.”

His gaze shifted back to the terrified hostages, the playful menace in his voice returning as he spoke. “So, remember, my friends... if you don’t make a choice in twenty seconds, Ernie gets to have a little fun again. And if you still can’t pick after that, well...” He trailed off, chuckling softly. “Then it’s your turn to die.”

“Now, who’s first?”

The Joker's expression darkened as he slowly scanned the terrified crowd with a sinister smirk.

“Any volunteers?” he asked, his voice dripping with mockery.

The room remained deathly silent, the tension thick and suffocating.

“No takers?” He arched a brow, his voice laced with feigned disbelief. Then, he let out a low chuckle and said, “Well… looks like I get to choose.”

He strolled through the cluster of terrified hostages, savoring their panic as his gaze flicked over each frightened face. A mother clung to a small child, shielding him with her arms as she murmured soft, trembling reassurances drowned out by the oppressive silence. Nearby, an elderly woman hugged her purse to her chest, her frail frame trembling with every shallow breath. Each expression—a mixture of dread and helplessness—seemed to feed his twisted delight.

When he stopped in front of Alina, her breath hitched painfully in her throat, but she kept her head down, willing herself to disappear into the crowd.

But he lingered. Too long.

Her pulse quickened as his suffocating presence loomed over her. Despite the fear crawling under her skin, something defiant within her refused to shrink away. Her fingers pressed into the floor, grounding her against the overwhelming urge to melt into the marble.

And then—almost without thinking—she looked up.

Her gaze locked with his, and the world seemed to blur. His eyes weren’t the soulless black she’d imagined, but a rich, burning brown, flickering with something she couldn’t decipher. They pierced into her, stripping away her fear and leaving her raw.

His lips curved faintly, a flicker of amusement sharp enough to twist her insides. For a heartbeat, time froze. Something in his eyes—dark and consuming—sent a shiver racing down her spine. A strange, unwelcome sensation stirred in her stomach as she stared back, caught in his gaze like prey tangled in a snare.

The silence between them thickened, heavy with an unspoken challenge. His eyes bore into her, deliberate and predatory, daring her to hold his gaze—to see how long she could endure him.

Then, just like that, he turned away, his attention shifting to the middle-aged man beside her.

The spell broke. The world snapped back into motion, but Alina remained frozen, buzzing with the aftershocks of that terrifying shared moment. She let out a shaky breath, struggling to pull herself back together.

“You,” the Joker said, his voice sharp, making the man beside her flinch. “Looks like it’s your lucky day.”

The man’s face went white as Joker's men dragged him forward, his legs buckling as they shoved him into the chair.

The Joker crouched in front of him, twisted amusement etched into every line of his face. “Alright, sport. You’ve got twenty seconds to decide—be the hero, or pass the buck?” He tapped his wrist as if checking an invisible watch, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

The man trembled as he glanced desperately at the other hostages—looking for salvation, or maybe looking for someone to sacrifice. Alina could see the panic in his eyes, the way his mind raced to process the impossible decision in front of him.

Finally, his lips moved, but no words came out.

The Joker leaned in closer. “Come on, now,” he cooed, his voice dripping with mock encouragement. “Time’s running out. You’ve got 10 seconds left. Die a hero, or point a finger and keep on living. Easy, right?”

Another 5 seconds passed when finally, the man pointed to a man standing nearby. His voice cracked as he finally spoke, barely more than a whisper. “H-him…"

The chosen man staggered back, his eyes wide with terror. “No! Please!” he stammered, his voice rising in desperation. “I have a family—please, don’t do this! I’ll do anything, I’ll—"

Without a word, Ernie raised his gun and fired.

The crack of the gunshot ripped through the air, loud and final as the chosen man’s body crumpled to the floor, blood spreading rapidly across the marble. Alina’s pressed her hand to her mouth, fighting the overwhelming urge to retch as the sudden, brutal finality of it hit her like a punch to the gut.

Ernie holstered his gun with an eerie calmness, stepping back without a glance at the man he’d just executed.

Alina felt her limbs go numb as a wave of helplessness washed over her. The reality of the game, of what was happening, began to sink in deeper. There was no mercy here. No humanity. Just survival.

She couldn’t stop her mind from racing—who would be next? Would it be her?

The Joker chuckled, his eyes glinting with wicked amusement. “See? Easy as pie,” he crooned. "Ernie doesn’t mess around. Now, who’s next?"

Without warning, the Joker pointed a gloved finger toward a young woman near the front of the group. “You,” he said, his voice sharp and playful. “It’s your turn.”

“No!” she cried, shaking her head as tears streamed down her face.

Two of Joker’s thugs moved forward, dragging her toward the chair with mechanical precision. She clawed at their hands, her sobs rising into a crescendo.

“Please!” she pleaded, trembling violently as they forced her into the chair. “I have twins at home—they’re just babies. Please, don’t do this! I’ll do anything, please!”

Alina’s heart ached for her, the sharp pain of helplessness clawing at her chest. She clenched her fists against the cold marble floor, willing herself to look away— but she couldn't.

The Joker crouched in front of the woman, his head tilting as if studying her.

“Oh, my dear,” he crooned, his voice smooth and chilling. “That’s what makes this so much fun. Everyone thinks they’re special—that they’re the exception.” His gaze flicked lazily toward the crowd. “But here’s the thing… no one is special. Not in my game.”

The woman’s sobs grew louder, her hands gripping the chair like it could somehow save her. “Please… don’t make me do this,” she begged, her voice breaking. “I can’t… I can’t…”

The Joker tapped his wrist, his tone darkening. “Oh, you can. And you will. Tick-tock.”

She shook her head, the seconds slipping away. The trembling of her body grew violent as she gasped out one final, broken “Please…”

“Ernie,” the Joker said with a casual wave of his hand, not even glancing at his henchman.

Ernie adjusted his grip on the weapon, his movements steady and precise. The room seemed to quiver under the weight of collective fear—gasps, stifled sobs, and the sound of shallow, panicked breaths breaking the stillness as he raised the gun.

For a moment it felt as though time itself had stopped.

Then the gunshot ripped through the air, defending and final as a man crumpled to the floor with a sickening thud.

The woman screamed, her sobs turning into wails of despair as she realized what had happened. She had taken too long. Someone had died because of her hesitation.

“See?” The Joker turned to the crowd, spreading his arms as though presenting a masterpiece. “That’s what happens when you waste time.”

He twirled on his heel, glancing back at the crowd of terrified hostages. “Your twenty seconds restarts now. Go beyond that and it'll be lights out for you too. What's it gonna be?"

But the woman sat frozen in terror, her breath coming in ragged sobs as she failed to steady herself.

A lump rose in Alina's throat as she watched her struggle.

“Time’s running out,” the Joker hummed, his tone faintly annoyed. “Who's it gonna be, lady? You or someone else? Don’t worry, I’ll make it nice and quick.”

The woman's panicked gaze darted around the room, seeking salvation in terrified faces. Finally, with a trembling finger, she pointed toward a middle-aged woman standing across from her.

“H-her…” she stammered, barely audible. “Please… please don’t…”

The middle-aged woman’s eyes widened in horror, her steps faltering as though she could outrun her fate. “No!” she cried. “Please, I have a family—don’t—”

The shot came without preamble. The older woman crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

The young woman in the chair let out an anguished scream, her wails reverberating through the room.

“Now that,” the Joker said, his tone almost admiring, “is what I call dramatic.” He wagged a finger at the broken woman. “Two lives on her conscience now. What a mess.”

“Now,” he continued, his voice dark and commanding, “who’s next?”

The game continued, the atmosphere in the room growing more desperate with each passing moment. One by one, the hostages were dragged to the chair, each of them forced to make the same impossible choice. Some screamed, some begged, others pointed fingers with barely a moment’s hesitation.

Alina’s heart trembled with every gunshot, every sob. There was no escape. She watched as person after person broke, giving in to their fear, sacrificing someone else in order to survive just a little longer.

Until finally, Alina's turn came.

A cold sweat crept over her skin as two of Joker’s men seized her, their grips bruising as they shoved her into the chair. In the blur of chaos and fear, her wallet slipped from her grasp, landing on the floor with a hollow thud.

She didn’t move to pick it up, too terrified to care about something so trivial.

The Joker, ever observant, caught the movement. With a slow, measured motion, he knelt down and plucked the wallet from the floor, flipping it open casually as if it were his own.

Before Alina could react, a sudden shout pierced the tension-filled air. One of the hostages bolted for the door, his shoes squeaking against the slick floor as he made a desperate dash for freedom.

A gunshot rang out as one of the goons discharged his weapon at the doomed man.

Alina’s head snapped toward the sound, her heart hammering as the would-be escapee crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath him. Bile rose in her throat— the gruesome violence just another reminder of what could soon be her fate.

The Joker stood back up, completely unfazed. He tossed the wallet lightly into her lap with a flick of his wrist, laughter dancing across his gaze.

"You can’t just leave your life lying around like that, sweetheart. Someone might snatch it up,” he said, his voice dripping with twisted mockery.

Alina, still too shaken by the chaos and death around her, barely registered the wallet now back in her lap.

With measured steps, the Joker closed the distance, his eyes fixed on her. Alina’s pulse quickened as he loomed over her, savoring her discomfort like it was a private performance just for him.

A smirk played on his red-stained lips as his eyes lingered, sliding over her trembling form with a deliberate intimacy that made her stomach twist.

Finally, he crouched down, their faces mere inches apart, his eyes locking onto hers with unsettling intensity. His grin stretched wider as his tongue flicked over his lips in a slow, deliberate motion—a gesture that felt calculated, primal, and disturbingly intimate. It made her skin crawl with revulsion.

“Well, hello, beautiful,” he purred, his voice low, each word dripping with unnerving reverence.

Alina’s breath hitched. His words were soft but his voice carried weight—a dark, magnetic pull that wrapped around her fear and squeezed. It wasn’t just the words he spoke but the way he said them—a predator’s promise, steeped in mockery, with a subtle, insidious charm that tugged at something she couldn’t name. Her chest tightened as she fought the instinct to lean back, to shrink away from the quiet menace in his tone.

His gaze raked over her once more, traveling slowly from her wide eyes to her trembling hands, before snapping back to meet her stare. “You look a little nervous,” he mused, his voice brushing over her like a velvet knife, teasing and cruel.

He leaned in closer, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone thick with cruel delight. “We’re gonna have fun.”

A shiver flicked through her, the teasing threat in his voice twisting her pulse into a frantic rhythm. He was savoring this—feeding on every hint of her discomfort.

Before she could react, his hand moved with unnerving calmness, brushing against her cheek as his gloved fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was deceptively tender and laced with an unsettling dominance, as if he was marking her with his caress. Along with the leather of his gloves, a faint, dizzying scent clung to him—a sharp blend of smoke and gunpowder, with a raw, masculine warmth beneath it. It crept into her senses and settled there, as invasive as the weight of his gaze.

Her skin tingled where his fingers had been, a strange mixture of dread and a dark, unwanted curiosity awakening inside her. She was too terrified to question what it meant, too consumed by the weight of his gaze and the chaos unraveling around her.

His smile deepened, eyes flickering with something dangerous, something primal, before he finally pulled away, leaving her breathless and unnerved.

The Joker stood again, straightening his coat with a quick snap. He turned to the room, glancing over the other hostages, then back to her.

“So, dollface,” he drawled, his voice laced with unsettling charm, “What’s it gonna be? Are you gonna save them all, be the big hero?” He leaned in closer, his breath grazing her skin like a dangerous caress. “Or are you going to pass the buck, like everyone else?”

Icy dread coiled deep in the pit of Alina's stomach. She had watched it unfold with the others—the desperate fear, the decisions that shattered lives—and now it was her turn. The weight of it pressed down, locking her in place. Her mind screamed, but her voice refused to come.

The Joker tilted his head, the faintest flicker of amusement ghosting across his features. “Tick-tock,” he murmured, tapping an invisible watch on his wrist. “Don’t take too long, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of you.”

She looked around at the hostages, her gaze catching the torrent of raw terror passing over each one. A woman near the back whispered frantic prayers, lips barely moving. A young man clutched his knees, his body trembling as he fought back sobs.

So many of them had already played the game, pointing fingers, sacrificing others to keep themselves alive a little longer. But what had it bought them? They weren’t free—they were just as trapped as she was, caught in the Joker’s web of chaos.

Was this truly all they could do? Break apart, piece by piece, just to survive a few moments longer?

The weight in her chest grew heavier. Memories she didn’t want to face pressed against the edges of her mind, threatening to break through. Not again. Not someone else because of me. Her jaw clenched as tears threatened to spill, but she wouldn’t let herself cry—not here, not in front of him.

She had survived Gotham, survived worse things than this—hadn’t she? But a quiet voice inside reminded her that it wasn’t completely true. The city hadn’t just suffocated her—it had slowly chipped away at her, piece by piece, until she’d started to let it. But here, now, she had a choice. She wouldn’t let the Joker, of all people, take the last shred of dignity she had left.

“Times up.”

The Joker’s voice snapped her back to the moment, sharp and final. He nodded toward Ernie, who, with chilling precision, raised his gun and aimed it at the kind old man she had spoken to earlier. The man trembled under the barrel, his fear raw and unhidden as his eyes locked with hers.

No. Alina's pulse roared in her ears, and before she could stop herself, she shouted.

“Wait!”

Her voice rang out, startling even her—an act of pure instinct. Every eye in the room turned toward her, including the Joker’s.

Panic surged through her veins, but beneath it, a strange calm settled over her, the weight of her decision crystallizing in that single, defining moment. Her life had been a string of powerless moments, defined by mistakes that still haunted her. But here, she could finally do something that mattered.

She wasn’t going to let more innocent blood be spilled—she couldn’t.

“I’m staying in the chair,” she said, her voice soft but true.

Ernie shifted, his weapon steady, the cold barrel still trained on the old man. His finger tightened slightly on the trigger as he prepared to fire.

Then, with unnerving calm, the Joker raised a gloved hand. The gesture was silent and absolute. Ernie froze mid-motion, lowering his weapon as tension rippled through the room like a taut wire ready to snap.

The Joker’s men stood motionless, their focus locked solely on him.

For a brief moment, the Joker’s expression faltered, his eyes narrowing in a flicker of surprise. Then, his head tilted, confusion dissolving into sinister curiosity. A shadow of a smile played on his lips, more menacing than any grin.

“You’re staying in the chair?” he repeated, his voice low, almost a growl. He stepped closer, circling her slowly like a predator assessing its prey. “Now, why would you go and do a thing like that?”

Fear coiled tight in her chest, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “Because,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the pounding in her ears, “I can’t let this continue. I’m ending the game.”

The Joker stopped in his tracks, his dark eyes narrowing as he stared down at her, equal parts amused and intrigued.

“Well, well,” he murmured, his tone darker now. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a real anomaly here, folks.” He crouched again, inches from her face, studying her like she was the most interesting puzzle he'd ever encountered.

“You think you’re better than the rest of them?” he asked, his voice a sharp murmur. “You think you’re special?”

Alina shook her head. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Definitely not.”

The Joker’s scars stretched wider, a glint of something wicked sparking in his eyes as his tongue flicked across his lips. He seemed to savor her defiance, lingering far too close, the silence between them taut with electricity.

And then, in the distance, a faint wail broke the silence of the moment.

Sirens.

The Joker’s head snapped up, eyes squinting slightly as the playful edge in his gaze sharpened. He stood, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the last moments before the inevitable.

“Well... looks like our fun’s being cut short.” He straightened, looking past the terrified hostages toward the growing sound of law enforcement closing in.

“Such a shame,” he said, almost regretfully, turning to Alina with a sly smile. "We were just getting started.”

Alina’s heart pounded as the room suddenly buzzed with a different kind of energy. The Joker’s men shifted uneasily, their focus flickering between their boss and the doors, but none dared to act until he gave the word.

Alina watched in mounting terror as Joker's hand slipped down to his waistband, fingers brushing against the gun tucked there.

Was he going to kill her? Was this the price she would pay for staying in the chair?

The Joker’s eyes glinted with a sinister playfulness as he drew the gun with excruciating slowness, the polished metal catching the light in chilling flashes.

This is it, she thought, her breath shallow and uneven. This is the price I’m paying to save everyone else. The cold realization settled over her like a shroud, numbing her to everything but the steady thrum of her heartbeat. She forced herself to sit still, her trembling hands gripping the arms of the chair like anchors. If this was how it ended, she would face it head-on—without screaming, without begging.

But then, with a sudden flick of his wrist, he flipped the gun into the air, catching it effortlessly. His grin widened, and he twirled the weapon once before holstering it again, as though it were a toy.

“You didn’t actually think I’d shoot you, did you, sweetheart?” he purred, his voice laced with amusement. Suddenly he closed the distance between them and reached for her face. She flinched, bracing for certain violence, but his fingers brushed her cheek lightly, sending a shiver down her spine. “No, no... what a waste that would be.”

He straightened, stepping away as he cast a lingering look over her. Then, almost as if to himself, he whispered, “We’ll pick this up again soon.”

The Joker’s eyes darkened as he turned to the room full of hostages, his voice carrying a casual weight as he addressed them. “You all owe her your lives today. But don’t get too cozy. Gotham doesn’t forget... and neither do I.”

With one last smirk in Alina’s direction, he spun on his heel, his long coat swishing as he strode toward the exit. His men, glancing nervously at the approaching sirens, followed close behind.

The Joker didn’t glance back as he disappeared into the stormy night, his laughter echoing through the cold air like a final, twisted farewell.

Alina sat rigid, aware only of her own shallow breathing. The hostages sat frozen too, the weight of their ordeal settling over them like a thick fog.

Finally, Alina slowly rose from the chair, her legs trembling beneath her. The Joker had let her live. But the way he had looked at her, touched her... it hadn’t been mercy. It had been a warning.

A promise that this was far from over.

___. ♡ ✦ ♧━━━♢ ✦ ♠️ ✦ ♢━━━♧ ✦ ♡. ___

A/N: Thank you so much for reading the opening chapter of my first Tumblr fic! I hope you enjoyed it and found my Joker to be in character. Feedback is always welcome and I’d love to hear your thoughts! 🖤💜💚

Stay tuned— I've already written 6 more chapters plus a bunch more that just need editing. I'll try to get the next 6 up ASAP.

Navigation Links:

Masterpost | Next Chapter →

[adgp35]

“How you doing, boys?”

Amanda decided to check on her prisoners. After all, it wouldn’t be long before her two teenaged kidnap victims would be picked up and she could cash in. Jimmy and Derek of course couldn’t reply to the older woman’s cheery greeting due to the fact she had cleave-gagged them both, but the sniffling and quiet sobbing emanating from the two tied up lads was unmistakable. “Oh stop making that ridiculous noise, you big babies!” Amanda laughed. “You want momma to give you a good spanking and something to really cry about? So long as your parents pay up, everything will be fine…”

Sources: capturedguys.com and uniquefacewitch on Tumblr. Unfortunately I was unable to obtain her permission to use her art as she no longer appears on Tumblr.

[risilence]

You're telling me there was a whole event with her in it?!?!?

😭😭😭 Why has she been the only sinner who has gotten mad on our behalf??? (I say extremely loosely lol 🥹)

I've never wanted to runaway with a sinner more 🏃‍♀️‍➡️🏃‍♀️‍➡️🏃‍♀️‍➡️ I surrounder Du Ruo... take me!

[dmitriene]

previous

kidnapper könig trying to feed you, he does, and even cooks everything himself, but it's doesn't matter to you at all, when you avoid him in this small cabin, hiding in the room when he's calling you to eat, fearing, knowing he's going to poison you, or drug to use, even through he's not, taking a spoon to show you that the food is good and you have nothing to fear.

yet, you almost starve yourself, not accepting either homemade meals or buyed one's, walking around sluggish and weaker than you looked before to his eyes, drinking some water and eating a bits of fruits here and there, the only things you sure in them, but nothing more, seeing how his eyes droop down in childlike resentment when you refuse his offers to cook something fresh for you.

it's a big way for you to accept his feeding, or the starve talking in your belly, yowling at you when you catch a whiff of the hearty, mouthwatering stew he was cooking, enough to make you paddle out of the bedroom to check at the smell, even through you hate the amused creases around his eyes you see, lined deep in his skin, as he croons for you to come closer, have a taste, kleiner hase.

eventually, you do, and it's the best food you ever tried, rich and flavorful, the meat is soft and appetizing, neatly sliced and carefully cooked to make it easier for you to eat, along with the cubs of melting, tasty potatoes, as you hum and devour spoon after spoon, warming your belly, too lost in the taste to see the pleased, giddy glint in könig's glacial, sparkling eyes, as he watches you.

it's only then, when you ate two bowls, that you ask what about him, a silly, innocent question that tugs at his thrumming heart, as he scoops you up on the wooden table, brushing the bowls aside, even through your little, squeaky protests that eventually die on your tongue when he thumbs a calloused touch over your panties.

pressing against the pudgy, small bud of your clit, hidden there against your puffy, clenching folds, soaking your cotton panties with little drops of slick, reacting to his touch, to the way könig throws his hood back from his face to nudge against your clothed pussy, nuzzling his nose right where you drip, licking teasingly, before he smiles lopsidedly, humming that his meal gleich da ist, hase.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[soysville]

I've discovered a character archetype that I like, and it's like... "weird middle-aged and older guys who kill folks for reasons they believe are righteous"...? They don't kill out of revenge or anger, but out of the belief that they're saving or improving others. A kind of person you'd never want to meet irl, but you probably wouldn't notice if you did. A subcategory of poor little meowmeow.

They come on a spectrum:

("Righteous" is a bit flimsy in Hannibal's case, but an argument can be made. More importantly: I like him.)

[hanzajesthanza]

combining (one of my) favorite short story with (some of my) favorite characters ❤️

[pipsqueaks89934]

December 24th: Christmas Eve dinner

Warnings: mentioned kidnapping, Yandere family, Yandere stuff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Christmas Eve night and you were starving. You and your fiancé (aka the man who kidnapped you) were at his family’s house for the night since his family wanted to meet you and his brother's fiancé. This was the 3rd or 4th time you had met his parents but your husband still didn’t want to marry you just yet since he wanted to wait until you were fully in love with him even though you two have been together for 4-5 years.

Where are they and when are they going to get here?

You didn’t know your fiancee’s brother that well but you did know that they hadn't been together for long.

Why are they so late?

You were so hungry and wanted to eat the dinner that your soon-to-be mother-in-law had just finished making not too long ago.

“We are here,” your almost brother-in-law said as he opened the front door while dragging a girl by her arm with him. “I'm so sorry that we are late but someone kept arguing with me about stupid stuff!”

“I’m just glad that you two made it here safe,” your soon-to-be mother-in-law said as she helped her son take off his coat before hanging it up. “Why don't you two go ahead and grab a plate since I'm sure you two are hungry.”

“I'm just glad that they got here at all,” you whispered to your fiancee while walking to the kitchen to get something to eat. “So we can finally eat.”

“Sorry for making you two wait,” you heard a soft meek voice from behind you say. “I'm sure that you two are way more hungry than I am.”

“It's fine she just gets in a pissy mood whenever she's hungry,” your fiancee explained as he turned to look at her. “Right baby doll?”

You mumbled a few incoherent words before going to get something to eat.

“Is she mad at me?” the young woman asked while looking at your fiancee.

“No, she was already mad,” he chuckled before following you to the kitchen. “But maybe don't try talking to her again until after she eats.”

“Okay!” she said softly while smiling at him.

After everyone got their food and seated at the table your fiancee's family said a little prayer before everyone started eating. You melted as you ate food.

I'm so happy to be eating right now!

Once everyone was finished eating the dinner that your soon-to-be mother-in-law made everyone just hung around in the living room until it was time to go.

[yander-city]

Welcome to Yander-City.

Salutations, I am Host.

I will be assisting you in discovering the residents of this city, along with their personalities and background. Unfortunately, all the residents are (and will stay) male for a female audience.

Who knows what you may find.

I present to you, the list of locals:

_________________

Current residents…

Will Vellion • Yandere waiter

Quin Dahl • Yandere mafia boss

Pyriv Falor • Yandere husband/kidnapper

Lazarus Seltzar • Yandere cult leader

Emmanuel Levlon • Yandere friend/stalker

Louis Martinez • Yandere coworker

Nolan Delvon • Yandere camp counselor

Kyiv Solheim • Yandere villain

Victor Hallandale • Yandere soulmate

Solitaire Celsior • Yandere croupier

Kyle Lakasier • Yandere classmate/roommate