#trap fiction

[maddm00dy]

Papi’s Home

Either I’m crazy or this nigga hasn’t texted me back in two days. Standing here pacing in this room like a crazy person! I can’t stop checking my phone or smelling this goddamn hoodie. Is this nigga playing me? Is he dead?!

“Oh god! CJ WHAT THE FUCK TEXT ME BACK!”

My mind is literally reeling. He told me he’d be back!

As Dyana Townson paces her plush pink carpet , her slides generate static from the friction.

The fierce rain can be heard knocking against her apartment windows. The room illuminated in pink mood lighting

She flops on her bed to stair at the ceiling. Her crisp jersey sheets deliver a small shock to her sterling silver necklace.

“Ouch!” She swats at her neck accidentally snagging at the Figaro linked chain. She traces her fingers down to the dainty jeweled heart charm.

I hate when he’s gone. I worry about him like I’m his damn mother. And she doesn’t even worry about him this much.

Letting out a soft sigh, Dyana takes one last look at her phone before locking it and tossing it at the foot of her bed.

Okay, happy thoughts Ya. Happy thoughts.

Dyana closes her eyes slightly tight at first, but as a face appears in her mind her body eases.

It’s Carrington.

His tall frame stretches past the foot of her bed, his black air forces scuffing her plush pink carpet.

“Why you gotta act like that?”

Carringtons words spill past his gold fronts with an aggressively caring tone. His fingers guide Dyana’s chin in his line of sight. Dyana, straddling the green eyed man, throws a small fit.

“Acting like what, you haven’t been here. I mean I get it, the music is important. But then what am I here for, if it’s left me sleeping alone at night.”

In a bout of frustration Carrington swipes his forehead, ironing out his thoughts.

“Iight, look. I hear you, imma fix it. Just stop with the attitude shit. Please, I ain’t been here, now I’m here and you fucking mad at me?”

Disapproving of his word choice Dyana removes herself from his lap.

“Ya Ya!“

Sucking his teeth , he sits up in a huff. As he turns to look at Dyana, she doesn’t budge. He can spot the pout in her reflection on the mirror at the side of her bed.

“Ya.”

He speaks softly, extending an arm around her waist. He gazes at the mirror while Dyana still looks down at her knees.

“I said I’d fix it. C’mon, you know I think you cute when you mad.”

He places a soft kiss on the layers of brown skin and silver by her neck.

“And you know I hate when you say that,”

Dyana’s voice delivers as a humbled whisper.

“Why?”

He asks in between kisses.

“You know it’s true, plus my favorite part is making you feel better.”

He encloses her in both arms from behind , landing more soft kisses on to her shoulders and neck.

Dyana’s body melts in his grasp. Tracing her hands up his sleeved arms, she swiftly turns on her knees to meet him face to face.

Holding his face in her hands, she places smalls kisses on his forehead. She looks into his eye and gives his free formed locs a small tussle.

“You promise you’ll fix it?”

Dyana continues in whispers

“I promise.”

He matches her tone.

Sealing his statement with a kiss, Carrington gracefully guides her fall to the bed.

The front door to the apartment suddenly opens. Dyana jumps out of her sleep yet again clutching her necklace.

I should’ve known that shit was a dream.

“Who’s there?!”

Dyana’s projected vocals tremble as she reaches for her mini Glock in her nightstand.

“Baby,”

The familiar deep rasped voice laced in southern flair brings a small comfort followed by an immediate anger.

Dyana storms out of her bedroom down the hall.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?”

Her stern demand echos from the hall, catching up with her vocals Dyana and her small frame bursts into the living room.

“Like you really shitting me right now?! Two days? TWO FUCKING DAYS!”

Stay Tuned for Part 2 :3 <3

[spirk-trek]

Georgia Schmidt, Carole Shelyne, Serena Sande, Meg Wyllie, & Sandra Lee Gimpel

A tribute to some lesser-known women of Star Trek :)

[your-fave-gets-saw-trapped]

John Lennon and Paul McCartney (the real world/the beatles) are in the Bathroom Trap (saw i)!

requested by anon!

[itsphantasmagoria]

Another quick Draco thirst trap for your enjoyment ✨

Gotta do a Harry one next!

@tessacrowley I'm reading Recursion and got inspired 😁

(ko-fi)

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 11

Masterpost

Patrol that night is relatively boring; Tim stops a handful of petty criminals and makes some progress on a couple of his cases, but none of the work is particularly hard and despite his earlier exhaustion, Tim finds himself wide awake the second his head hits the pillow.

It's annoying, but also unsurprising, and after a few minutes of laying in the dark, he sits back up with a grumble. He turns the light on and walks the few steps over to his desk, and the notes that he'd left there before patrol, and he stares at the names of the... people? They're not exactly victims, so to speak. Unless this arg is trying to imply that their causes of death are a cover-up.

If that were true, it'd be something well worth looking into, but the whole point of this game is that it's supposed to be fictional. Of course, there's always the possibility that this whole thing is some fucked up rogue plot. It doesn't necessarily fit with any of the known players' usual MOs, but if the Riddler were working with someone...

Of course, the two deaths in Gotham were before any of the current rogues really started operating, so the probability of them being killed for the sake of this fucked up game is low. The possibility of a serial killer is also still there; someone who might have orchestrated these deaths and was never caught, now taunting the world and wanting credit for their crimes.

Probably, he should seek someone else's opinion. But Bernard doesn't have the training of a vigilante, and frankly, which of the Bats could he take this to? He has no concrete evidence, just a weird collection of facts and a horrible gut feeling. Nobody had been interested in humoring him after Bruce disappeared, so why would they think any different now?

He knows it's not their fault, really. Tim knows he's prone to making logical jumps that other people can't follow. But it sucks, seeing details and patterns, things that are definitely concerning, and not knowing how to explain it to anyone. And he'll, he could be wrong. One doesn't become a vigilante without gaining serious trauma, and everyone knows that the Bats are some of the worst off in those regards. Gotham rogues are known for their fucked up mind games above all else.

And yet, whoever is creating these videos clearly isn't limiting themselves to just Gotham. That, above all else, makes it unlikely that this is the work of a Gotham rogue. People of Gotham are typically loathe to leave for long, and even when the rogues are sourcing details outside of the city, they still tend to stay close by, and their actual operations almost always remain within the city. It's an odd fact, and it tends to baffle the other heroes, but that makes it no less true.

So, really, the most likely possibility is serial killer, and the wild variance between the two modes of death he already knows, makes that also questionable. And as far as he knows, there's nothing connecting these people, other than the fact they're dead.

Tim catches himself yawning, and glances back towards his bed. Realistically, there's not much he can do about this now, and he does have work in the morning, so he really ought to make a good effort to get good sleep. Besides, he's pretty sure he's read that even just closing your eyes can help, so he forces himself away from the puzzling mess, and drops back into bed, and waits for sleep to finally come.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Witness

"Specimen '873 is starting to disappoint me. He was showing such promise. These numbers, however?" My keeper muttered to himself, distaste painting his face as he watched the feed in front of him. "Unacceptable for a battle class. He might as well be spare biomass at this point."

He was supposed to be wearing his glasses, not holding them. They may have been called "reading" glasses? But they were not, technically, just for that. They also had a blue light filter. Helped with headaches and eyestrain. He just hated wearing them because he thought they made him look old.

A God Forbid ANYTHING remind him of the passage of time.

He did NOT take it kindly.

I managed to avoid THAT landmine by virtue of having witnessed his receiving them. An "incident" that resulted in his head slamming against a screen. Protocol demanded he get checked. In the process, they discovered his eye sight was declining. It was a... bad day. I brought him things to break and stayed very, very quiet.

He bounced back fairly quickly, though. Once the arrogant researcher who had arranged for the incident to even OCCUR? Tried to come lord his "weakened old man" status over him. It was one thing to "accidently" let the battle class get unfettered access to weapons before loyalty train. But to be dumb enough to step into his lab, call him weak, and gloat about it?

Dr. Raghnall Periculum was many things.

But "unwilling to bludgeon a man to death with the nearest object" was not one of them.

He was dangerous like that. Murderous. It came and went like shifting storms, all you could really do was learn to read the triggers. Get good at knowing when to back up. When to hold really, REALLY still. After all... this was a lawless, immoral place. No one here could or WOULD stop him.

They were all just as bad.

Gritty Sci-Fi Otome games are... a lot less fun to LIVE. To be honest? They are actually pretty horrifying. Traumatizing, really. Hellish. As in, I am pretty sure this is a futuristic version Of Hell (but that is a personal opinion). I regret EVER playing a single damn one. But... BUT? I CLING to the knowledge I gained from it. So I can not regret it completely. Because through them? Through KNOWING this world?

I KNOW this will end. KNOW we will be free. That these monsters will pay for what they've done. The epilog promises a golden age. A beautiful, peaceful dawn after this long and terrible night, filled with horrors. I just... I just have to survive. Hold on. Keep my head down and pray.

I may be trapped in hell, but I'm not broken.

We will be Free.

I have SEEN IT.

Sometimes the greatest defiance is just refusing to die. Just keeping hope alive. I... I can do that. May not be able to fight my way out. Not smart enough to hack or sabotage these nightmares. But I can stay alive. I... I can do that. Bear witness, that someday I may stand against them in trial. Record. So no one is forgotten.

It doesn't feel like enough. I feel tired and angry. Hateful and small. But for the sake of my sanity? I make myself feel nothing. Compartmentalize. I've... I've become unfortunately quite good at it. Good at a lot of terrible things. Like placating. Making myself small. Being invisible. A retail smile. Being one with the furniture.

See, just like the poor souls on the screens in front of him? I'm a Clone. Of who? I have no idea. None of us do. They use old DNA databases. From when it was first commercially available, I think. Like those ancestry tests. Here it was squirrelled away, kept for later use. Which... was us.

My template has been dead for centuries, I think. Or perhaps? She would have considered herself my mother? I hope she would have, strange as I turned out to be. We are all children of the dead. It'd be nice to think they'd have wanted us.

Dr. Periculum's cup lifts lightly as he take a drink, more focused on his work then anything else. That heft is about midway point. I've discovered if I begin brewing now, it will be done by the time his cup is empty and he wants more. A glance at the closest screen gives me the time. Food too, is a good idea.

He likely won't eat it. But if it's there? The chances are higher. And when he comes out of his focus, it'll be available. Less chance of him getting irritated by hunger.

On a well practiced route through piles of notes and projects I know better then to touch, I quietly make my way to the coffee machine. Begin another round of abomination the caffeine tar. It is, quite honestly, a wonder he hasn't accused me of trying to poison him to a heart attack.

A few granules of salt, a bit of cinnamon, some expensive fatty creamer, aaaand? There. Unholy bitterness gone. "Just" a cup of liquid tar so potent it could make a rhino taste time.

I also grab one of the meat pies and put it on a little paper plate.

Ah... what has my life become? That I am so well practiced in make snacks for a monster? Picking them up, I don't dare answer that. That way lies madness. Don't think about it. It can wash out in therapy. After. Because there WILL be an After. There HAS to be an After.

Careful steps and...? Just as I estimated. He just ran out. I nearly silently tap the paper plate down to the edge of the table then slide it forward, with-in ease of reach, but not too close. Then I swap the cups. Go to step away. Only to freeze. As, out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his hands briefly leave his keyboard to make a nearly dismissive "one moment" gesture.

Stay put. Don't move. I'll address you when I'm done with my, more important, thoughts. I feel the flash of fear, of panic, but let it go. There is nothing I can do. I will be hurt or I won't be hurt. There is no use suffering twice, through speculation and fear, I remind myself. Force my mind empty and pleasant. Retail smile. Happy to serve.

He finishes. Leans back, dissatisfied with some project or other, and finally slips on his glasses. Gestures imperiously for the cup in my hands. I do not question of course, merely hand it to him. He takes it, passes it to his other hand, and sets it aside. Then, casually, leans slightly over and wraps a thickly muscled arm around my waist. Dragging me off my feet and into his lap.

"You know, girl? B-21873 really was, actually quite promising. I was starting to think I'd keep him. Decent speed, good stamina, excellent problem solving. His test scoring was exceeding all expectations. Really thought I might have gotten you a little friend to play with. A gaurd so I could send you out on some chores safely. But no, he just HAD to be a failure." He said, leaning forward to grab his cup.

I was crushed awkwardly close. Could feel every moment. Acutely aware of his woody and sea air cologne, the coffee on his breath as words were spoken far to close, the beating of a heartbeat I could feel against my arm. Hyper aware of him. Why was I in his lap? This felt dangerous. I should not be in his lap.

Between sips, he turned his head and pressed his lips to my temple, not kissing... somehow worse. Just... just breathing me in. Slow, deliberate, and deep. Like savoring a scent, a sensation. The subtle back and forth, as though rubbing his lips against my hair. Enjoying the feeling against sensitive skin. It could almost be a cuddle on any other man. It took everything I had not to shudder.

"Unlike you of course. You pet, could never disappoint me. If these rejects tried even half as hard as my perfect darling girl? The world'd be a better place." He paused his almost nuzzling. To simply rest his head against mine, pulling off his glasses so he could tuck his head closer. His breathe was hot against my ear. His voice gravel and distain as it spoke of others.

"It's disgusting. Like they don't even try. We spend countless resources breeding, feeding, and training them... for what? Failure? I'm starting to think those bastards are deliberately sending me bad specimens."

Every word he said was horrifying. I could not cry. Dare not. But my heart screamed for those poor souls. They were just kids. Trapped in hell. Tortured from birth. Disposed of when they no longer met some arbitrarily impossible anime standard. If I turned my head, even slightly, I KNEW, I would be faced with screens of untold suffering. Feeds of "testing". So called training. Autopsy reports and datapoints.

Lists of who... who had been deemed "not good enough".

Who were scheduled to become "recycled biomass".

But if I looked? I would weep for them. And that? That was dangerous right now. Right NOW? I had to be pleasant company. A child's doll to be dragged around. No thoughts, no differing opinions. Preferably no opinions at ALL. Just warm and huggable. Soft. A beloved pet who serves coffee and brings things when told. Endure. I just... I must simply ENDURE.

The night will end. Dawn will come. Believe in her.

J-Just empty your head... and Believe In Her.

An alert pops up. I can hear it on a screen somewhere behind me. Dr. Periculum turns his head to look, reaching for his snack. Freezes. Then, a sharp bark of laughter. It's violent, like the strike of a lightning bolt, jostling me. The ones that follow just as harsh. He's not a man that laughs often. And it's not a kind sound.

Filled with schadenfreude, his laughter is like the vicious barks of hunting hounds. The shots of a weapon. A short and harsh to the ears sound, over and over. Delight in the suffering of an enemy. The fall of a rival. It strikes through his body like seizures. Making him lean forward to read. Brace against the desk, tighten his grip around me, widen the brace of his legs.

Glancing up, his eyes are alight with manic glee. His grin is vicious.

He looks Feral.

"Well, well, WELL! What do we have HERE?! Is that Jack ANDERSON'S facility I see? Mr. 'Master of the genome' himself? Looks like SOMEONE got AHEAD of themselves! Ha!" Raghnall cackles spinning his chair so I can see the screen. Leaning back to grab his cup and toast with it. "Look what we have here, pet! Some fucking KARMA! I knew that little shit wasn't worth the paper his degree was printed on! See this? THIS is what happens when you can't control your own damn compound!"

"Rest in PIECES, you worthless little SHIT!"

I sat. Frozen. As Dr. Periculum laughed and laughed, his mood viciously pleased. Because... because I recognized that facility. Chapter Two. There was an animation that played. The... the BREAKOUT! Joy filled me. Like the first rays of dawn. That was HER. S-she was OUT! Free! She DID it! Oh god... oh god she was COMING! It had finally BEGUN!

I caught myself. Barely.

My eyes felt a bit wet so I disguised it with a fake yawn. I dare not show empathy. NEVER show empathy. Keep it guarded like diamonds in your chest. If he thought, for even a moment, that I empathized with anyone but him. CARED about anyone but him? They wouldn't last the hour.

And it would be the longest, cruelest, hour in existence, as they died.

You make that sort of mistake exactly ONCE.

"Ah~ todays a GOOD day. And you know what we should do?" He hummed, nearly a coo as he spun us almost lazily around on his chair. In whimsical circles like a bored child. "We should celebrate. Ding dong, the fuckers dead~ HA HA! Not to mention? It's been entirely too long, pet, since I've spoiled you rotten. We should get a cake, hmm? You want a cake? Lil treat? Sweet lil treat for my girl?"

"I could get you that new dress I've been looking at. Bet you'll look like a classy lil princess, won't that be nice? Can even make it match the trackers I'm finishing up! No more uncomfy collars when we go out! Just pretty lil bracelets, ain't that nice?"

I force myself to smile. Nod. Ignore the fear and anger, the humiliation and helplessness. It's not time yet. Bid your time. You will LOSE your chance for True Freedom if you give in to your anger. Your hurt. Patience, THEN strike. Remember! Chapter two! There are FIVE.

It is COMING.

He stopped spinning, planting his feet on the floor. His manic grin softening. No less unhinged, less full of teeth, but perhaps the closest a man like him could come to loving. His eyes obsessive as the roam my face. Cataloging everything.

"You know, pet? You really might be might greatest creation. Best thing I've ever made or done. Anyone wants you? They'd have to pry you from my cold, dead hands. I'd burn EVERYTHING down. Kill just about EVERYONE." His voice was the sort of whispered confession meant for churches, not the heart of this hell he had built. It felt unholy. Dangerous.

Exactly like him.

"Once I figure how to take humanity to it's next stage? Reverse aging? Heck, even stop it. I promise, pet. Gonna take you with me. You're coming along for the ride. Straight to the end. Heat death of the universe. Well become GODS, pet. Live forever and a day. Bet you can't wait, huh?"

"Don't worry. The futures going be BEAUTIFUL. Just you wait."

[6gmrnv3hin]

The hardest thing for me as a writer is being my own boss.

I need to set my own deadlines, arrange my schedule, scold myself if I fail to follow the schedule, all while writing and planning a story that I'm terrified I'll never finish.

[ghostofsnails]

so did you guys know theres this character called tristan vik disventure camp and

[spirk-trek]

S1E2: The Man Trap ⋆.˚ ✧ · ˚⊹ ·

[todaysbird]

ashfur warriorcats dying in a glue trap

[a-stars-art-blog]

I hate the mom hunter jokes so much y’all Kakyoin is the most respectful boy ever he would never and I think him and Holly would have an adorable mother-son relationship if y’all would stop being WIERD >:{

[kissingarthurclaus]

Heeem I feel like I don't draw Rex initiating enough, so I wanted to doodle a little something to fix that 🥺💖 he's definitely more cautious about pda than Brea is, but he's not shy by any means!

Taglist♡: @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @squips-ship @sunstar-of-the-north @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @adoredbyalatus @dearly-beeloved @cherry-bomb-ships @me-myself-and-my-fos @sunflawyer @cassmeeks

[chernobog13]

In orbit above Planet M-113.

[undeadgayboynes]

to the freaks writing p3do/inc3st/r4pe chainshipping fics, I wish you a very die

And the freaks reading an enjoying them, that sentiment extends to you. I also wish you a very die

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag part 2

Warnings: blood, vampire night club, kidnapping of human, intimate vampire whump/blood drinking and violence

Alex cocked his head to the side, an amused smile playing across his lips. "Well, mister 'Curse You', what do you think about going on a little car ride?" he said smugly.

Alex gave the hunter a vicious smile full of fangs and teeth, before yanking him off the wall and dragging him over to a table.

The young man flailed and struggled, cursing loudly at him, but Alex didn't care. He threw his new pet to the floor and pinned him stomach-down with a foot on his back to free his hands.

"Get--uff-- OFF OF ME!" The human shouted indignantly, trying to get his legs under him and throw the vampire off-balance.

Alex casually yanked the tablecloth off one table and ripped it into two long strips, using one to bind the human's ankles together, before rolling the human onto his back and tying his wrists together next in front of him, despite how the hunter squirmed and tried to make it as difficult as possible.

Then Alex stepped back to examine his work, humming in approval and satisfied that his prize wouldn't be escaping anytime soon. He grabbed the hunter by the tablecloth around his ankles and started carelessly dragging him out of the club, ignoring how he twisted and turned trying to slip out of the restraints.

"Where are you taking me, freak?!?" The man barked angrily. He sounded outraged, and not nearly as scared as he should be of Alex. But Alex would correct that behavior soon enough, just like training a dog. That couldn't be too hard, right?

There was the beep of a car unlocking as Alex dragged his catch across the hard gravel to his vehicle, throwing open the back door and effortlessly scooping up the agitated creature, shoving him in the backseat.

The human immediately tried to lunge back out, but Alex slammed the door in his face, activating the child locks. He chuckled to himself as he walked to the driver's side and hopped in, turning the car on.

"Let me go, monster!" The human snarled behind him, and Alex could hear him fighting his restraints, kicking hard against his own seat.

"Strange," Alex mused, "that you are the one who barged into a club full of vampires -- and now you're mad that you got caught? I'll never understand humans." He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, peeling out of the parking lot.

"W-What are you planning to do with me?" The human asked when they were on the highway, and Alex didn't miss the new thread of shakiness his voice had taken on. It was just delightful.

Alex shrugged innocently, glancing at his pet in the rear view mirror. "You're a human. I'm a vampire. Figure it out. It's really not that hard to under--"

"I'M NOT GOING TO BE YOUR SLAVE!" The human shouted furiously, and gave Alex's seat another kick.

Alex rolled his eyes with an annoyed huff. "You're not in any position to negotiate, boy. You should be thanking me that I didn't kill you on the spot. Your blood is my payment for that mercy. Now stop whining, you're giving me a headache. It was cute before, but now it's plain irritating."

"Then let me go and I'll stop harassing you!" The human snapped.

"No. Now be quiet.”

"Not until you let me g-"

"I said SHUT UP!" Alex roared, and suddenly slammed on the brakes, sending the human smashing into the back of the front seats and falling onto the floor of the car with a startled yelp.

The vampire pulled his car off the freeway and turned on its hazard lights, unbuckling his seat belt. "I have been quite patient with you this entire time," he snarled, "but now you're getting on my nerves. Be quiet, or I am coming back there to teach you a lesson myself and put that cocky ego of yours in its rightful place. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" He had no idea humans could be so obnoxiously noisy.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

[usercelestial]

okay here's my thing about buck not saying the word bisexual yet- i think that's the point. i just think they aren't doing it in a very graceful way so it goes mostly unnoticed by the audience.

maddie asks how many men did abby turn gay and buck skirts around the question and only defending tommy there while not clarifying that he himself is not gay but rather bisexual. he didn't say that because i don't think he's actually thought about it yet, because i don't think he felt like he had to. like he kind of just speed ran the whole "im bisexual" thing and focused more on the fact that he lied to eddie and felt like a fraud because of it. he didn't have the words to express his sexuality outside of "me and tommy were a date, is that weird?" which obviously eddie can assume "okay so you're not straight" which he was about to say when he asked "wait tommy's gay? so you... two were..." but he shifts away from that question and into another one. so buck never on screen comes to a conclusion about what his sexuality actually is.

i think instead of buck looking amused in that maddie scene, he could have tried to say "well i'm not gay" and stumble over clarification to bring more attention to the fact that yes he is still struggling with his identity and doesn't fully accept/understand it yet.

again, i still have issues with it but i'm trying to see it from the writers perspective and see what they were going for.