#Tw: Kidnapping

[be-xkyy]

𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑉𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐ℎ

Warning: sexual content (mentioned), forced transformation, murder (mentioned), isolation, child abduction, blood, violence.

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★ @minshookie29 ★ @rosey1981 ★ @thejadevvitch ★ @jellystar-star ★

Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★

Son name: Alexandre

Husband name: Louis

Masterlist

Yandere Vampire who doesn't understand why you're so cold toward him; yes, maybe he killed all your friends and locked you in his castle, but he only did it because it was necessary.

Yandere Vampire who thinks you're being overly dramatic; he's already made up for his mistakes, turning you into a vampire, HIS mate, HIS wife, HIS duchess. Don't you see that he did the best for you by freeing you from your pathetic mortality? He gave you the greatest gift of all: eternal life.

Yandere Vampire who, despite his best attempts to make you happy, you're always melancholic. He gives you precious jewels that are over a century old. He makes sure his servants take care of everything and follow your every command so you don't have to lift a finger. He makes passionate love to you every night, giving you so many orgasms and love that in the end, you can't even form a coherent word. So why aren't you happy?

Yandere Vampire who after a long time decides to stop trying to figure out what you need to be happy and asks you directly (which is what he should have done from the start). One night, when you're both in your shared chambers, he decides to ask you the blessed question.

“I see that during these long months, my hard work to bring you happiness and joy has been a complete failure, so tell me, my dear, what do you need to be happy?”

“I want to be free. I no longer want to be confined within the walls of this castle. I don't want to be with you.”

“...”

Yandere Vampire who falls silent upon hearing your cold response; it almost seems as if your words didn't affect him, but his red eyes, which seem to glow, betray his anger. That, coupled with the lover/creator bond that unites your souls and betrays his anger, which seems to burn your body from the inside with a blazing fire, makes you shudder.

Yandere Vampire who decides to be merciful and forget this conversation, but not before threatening you. He approaches you, grabbing your jaw firmly. His elegant, ringed fingers grip your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, which shine with a burning and terrifying fury.

“Never, EVER say something like that again, my dear, or I'll show you what it means to truly feel miserable and unhappy.”

Yandere Vampire who becomes more distinct and rougher in the months following your small talk. He makes love to you more roughly, leaving your body aching and your neck and chest covered in bites and love marks. In retaliation, you leave his pale back covered in deep, bloody scratches (which only feed his ego).

Yandere Vampire who one day while looking for his next dinner date in a nearby town sees a smiling happy woman in a house who reminds him of you when he first met you. She's sitting in front of the fire in the fireplace, which illuminates her with a yellow and golden glow; she's cooing to a baby who's laughing and gurgling happily; a light bulb goes on in his head when he sees this scene. Maybe that's what you need to be happy, a baby. Little brats always bring joy and happiness, right? Maybe you two can't have a baby biologically, but he can take someone else's baby... right?

Yandere Vampire who decides to take matters into his own hands. He sneaks inside the house, ignoring the pain in his throat and yearning to suck the woman's blood dry. After all, he can't alert the town of his presence (there are already many suspicions of vampires in the area). So, he decides to be subtle and snaps the woman's neck, which he does. He sneaks up behind her when she notices his presence; it's too late. He hears the woman's heart race as he grabs her jaw from behind and twists her head with an ugly "crack." The woman's heartbeat stops, and her body goes limp.

Yandere vampire who drops the woman's body to the ground and focuses all his attention on the baby lying on the floor on a worn, old floral blanket. The baby's lower lip trembles as if he can understand the cruel fate of his only parent. His eyes water, and high-pitched sobs soon follow.

“Waah-Waah!!!”

“Hey brat, don't cry. You have no idea what a favor I'm doing you! Now you'll have a beautiful and loving new mother. No more old or worn-out blankets, just the finest clothes and silks for you.”

Yandere Vampire who takes the child in his arms, rocking him a little, but he doesn't stop crying; on the contrary, he cries even more. Frustrated, he covers the baby's mouth, slightly muffling his sobs, and slips out of the house, quickly heading for his castle.

Yandere Vampire who enters the castle through the extensive gardens filled with red roses. He ignores the curious servants who stare at him curiously as he enters with the sobbing baby in his arms and, without wasting any time, heads to his chambers, where he knows for sure you'll be. He pushes open the wooden door and enters. Your eyes immediately look at him, or rather, at the child in his arms.

“My dear! Look at the gift I brought you.”

“From where? Where are his parents?”

“The mother is dead, and there was no sign of the father anywhere, so now he's all yours!”

Yandere Vampire who smiles proudly when you approach and take the baby from his arms. His eyes soften when he sees you cooing at the baby, gently rocking him in your arms, and the child soon calms down. You head to the bed, placing the baby on the soft silk sheets, protecting him from the cold. He can't help but notice the child's resemblance to you, but he snaps out of his thoughts when he hears your annoyed voice.

“You carried him all over the frozen forest in just pajamas? A baby is very delicate and could get seriously ill, you stupid man.”

“I didn't think of that at the time, my dear. I just thought of bringing him to you, and now he's here with you. That's better than nothing, right?”

Yandere Vampire who happily notices how you become someone much more energetic and happy since the arrival of the baby; although he won't deny that he's a little jealous of the fact that you spend more time with the baby (whom you named Alexandre) than with him; you take Alexandre for walks in the garden, you bathe him, you dress him and you even read to him to put him to sleep; the baby quickly became very attached to you.

“Mother! Mother, look at this!”

“I'm seeing you, my love.”

Your voice comes out lovingly as you look at the now five-year-old boy running through the rosebushes adored with vibrant red roses. You walk slowly, following your little boy. Louis, your husband, walks beside you. Your arm is intertwined with his, though you ignore him most of the time. But that doesn't make him talk any less.

“He grew up so fast, don't you think? I remember when I brought him here, and he was just a baby.”

“I remember.”

“I honestly didn't expect him to make it past the week, you know, given the fact that he was cold and malnourished, but your love seems to be able to cure anything, my dear.”

“...”

Your red eyes glare at him in annoyance, and he just smiles, revealing his white teeth and sharp fangs. You want to wipe that smile off your face and slap him for saying something so out of place, but you hold back as Alexandre runs up to you both.

“Mother! Father! I want to see the roses up close! Lift me up, father!”

“Yes, sir! As Your Highness commands!”

You can't help but let out a laugh as your son reaches out for his father, bouncing slightly before Louis finally picks him up and places him on his hip. Alexandre stares at the roses (which he's seen a million times before) with fascination before pouting.

“Roses have the same color as her eyes! I want my eyes to be red too, father!”

“I think your eyes are beautiful—”

“Don't worry, my son, soon your eyes will be red too.”

“Louis—!”

“Really, Father?! I'm so happy my eyes will be like yours and my mother!”

~~~

“Have you lost your mind?! Why are you telling my son he'll also have red eyes?! He's not going to turn into a vampire!”

You yell in annoyance as you pace around your chambers, your furious eyes glaring at him accusingly as he lies in bed, propped up against the pillows. He smiles at you with a shrug before getting up from the bed and walking over to you.

“Why not? I mean, our son could live forever as a five-year-old. Is that really so bad, my dear?”

“That's selfish! You killed his parents, forced him to live confined here in this castle, and now you also want to force him to be five forever?! You are truly a horrible man!”

“His mother.”

“What...?”

“I killed his mother. I already told you there was no father anywhere, and I confined him here because it's safer for him... besides, I know the idea of ​​him being five forever doesn't bother you, my dear.”

“That's not true—!”

“Oh, you can deny it all you want, but I can feel in our bond that you don't mind the idea at all. It almost seems like you'd like him to be your baby forever... so tell me, my dear, who is the really horrible person here, huh?”

You don't know how to respond, because it's true, everything he says is true. You don't want your son to grow up and leave here, leaving you with the pain and agony of your lost life tormenting your soul again. Just thinking about it sends a feeling of pain to your dead heart. Even though you hate yourself for being so selfish, you can't deny what he's saying, so you duck your head and remain silent.

He lets out a playful laugh, moving closer to you. He runs his ringed hands down the front of your dress's corset, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers. His hands slide back, playing with the laces of the corset, untying the knot and loosening the bodice. He rubs his nose against your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses up to your ear. You shudder when his cold breath hits your skin. He murmurs playfully against your ear.

“Don't be ashamed, my dear. After all, being selfish is in our blood. Just let yourself go~”

[danascullysjournal]

“Oh, Archivist.”

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

Detail below:

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Beyond the Grave

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lichtenberg scars around the neck, torso, and arms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well.

How was he going to bring himself back to life?

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Late Night

Pairing: Dark Hawks x (female) Reader

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

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: Keigo hates threatning you - only when necessary.

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Threats.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

"Hey, c'mon, don't cry..." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Babe….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not the bad guy here, babe.” 

“You-” 

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

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

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

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

You hate how helpless you feel. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

[diejager]

more eldritch:konig X his darling mermaid, please & thank you

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.2

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, breeding kink, protective König, hunting, oviposition, tentacles, eggpreg, stomach bulge, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, possessive behaviour, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.6k

Prev

You hadn’t seen the sun in a while, neither had you gone hunting, nor seen your parents. You missed the freedom you had, swimming and racing the others mers your age through the coral reefs, that mundane, but fun activity you did once in a while when everyone gathered at the same spot.   

“Please, König, I just want to lay in the sun!”

“Nein, the outside world is dangerous, Schatz, ” his tone seemed apologetic, eyes cast down, avoiding your tearful eyes that gleamed beautifully from the bioluminescent plants, “I cannot.”

That was what he always told you, his words repeated on themselves, overlapping in your mind without holding much intent of substance to it. Why would it when all he told you was no? His excuses were getting old, they rarely changed over the few months he kept you in his cave, the little haven you grew to love now became a prison, a pretty cage to keep you locked away from the world you were born into. They always had an aspect in common: danger. He would say that it was too dangerous for you, that there were horrors living around his cave and wandering too closely to the edge you found him, the precipice of light and darkness that he stalked you from. If it wasn’t that, he’d push strongly that you could be taken away from him, caught and eaten by another Eldritch Horror that didn’t have the same obsession and favorability for pretty things like you. 

He slowly approached you, arms reaching out towards you to embrace you, his fingers finding the softness of your hips. Kneading the line between your skin and scales, thumb smoothing over your opalescent scales, the smooth surface of it that helped you swim as swiftly as you could. You were a quick, little mouse, able to outrun him if you put enough effort and intention in it to escape his limbs. You shuddered against him, looping your arms around him for comfort that he never kept from you, often reminding you that he loved you and that he would do anything for you —except give you back your freedom.  

You sobbed, a heart-wrenching cry slipping out of your pout, your glossy lips pulled down while pearly tears floated upwards, the density of your tears weighing less than the heaviness in his cave, a closed-off ocean of horror he painted over with enthusiasm and comfort. He whispered sweet words to you, smaller tentacles slipping under his hood to cradle your face. They acted as individual fingers, holding your face as if they were hands holding your chin up, curling under your jaw and eyes with the smooth side of his limbs, keeping the suckers away from your pretty face. He touched you so gently, careful to never break your skin or dirty the angelic image he had of you in his sickened mind. He wrapped himself around you, his thicker limbs latching onto you with the intention of never letting go, curling and looping around one another. The messy bundles kept you stuck to him as you whined, crying out the frustration and sadness you felt throughout your situation.

“Hush, don’t cry, mein kleiner Schatzi,” he wiped away your tears, and collected them between the suckers of his arms, watching them gleam with an opalescent shine, much like those of black mollusc shells. They were a spectacle, a beautiful thing coming from his precious mate, “We can go out when it is safe, ja?”

You nodded your little head, closing your eyes and nuzzling against his broad chest, the softness of his scarred skin that easily moulded to fit your shape. It was strange how easily he changed to fit your liking, to answer to your whims despite your protest or your reluctance. You couldn’t hate him, you simply couldn’t after all the things he did for you and how well he cared for you. Perhaps you’d fallen for him, falling so deeply in this hole of unwilling darkness and strange affection —your naivety working against your betterment and with his mind, dark and wretched. Despite your wails and frustrations towards König, he was all you had, all you had known for the past months, so you sought comfort and safety from him, unknowingly falling into his plan. 

You let him lead you away from the open entrance, down the wide gate of his - your - room to lay you down, unable to move from the confines of his many arms and the warmth he provided. König was warm, he’d always burned hot compared to the cold waters of the abyss, the swirling vacuum of freezing water that seemed to have no end and the surface that stayed cool despite bathing under the sun for half the day. You thrived on warmth, soaking it up to keep your metabolism going, to be able to function without crashing or slowing down, you needed it and you depended on König to keep you warm. 

He pressed down on you, his broad figure looming over your smaller and fragile one, casting a dark shadow with his sole presence. He brushed your hair away, the tip of his tentacle tickling your ear as he murmured temptation, his wide palms leaving your hips to trail down the curve of your navel, teasing the dilated hole of your core, blinking and oozing out slick. He pressed a finger in, listening to you mewl and squirm in his tight hold, your tail twisting and turning before ultimately bucking into his palm when he slid a second one in. He watched your pretty lips part in a gasp, eyes rolling back in pleasure, your lashes fluttering so prettily for him. You felt him everywhere, he was inside of you and all around you, his many arms working as extensions of his presence, teasing you with his little suckers, pulling and biting at you. 

“Let me ease your mind,” his mask rose over his nose, tentacles parting like curtains to kiss you. It was all teeth and aggression, his kiss turning into a sign of possession, marking you with his taste and scent. He didn’t have any lips, or lips similar to yours, they were flat, hidden by a moustache of tentacles, thinner and shorter than his other ones, “Help you relax.” 

They easily slipped into your mouth as he pumped you, fingers curling into the softer part of your cunt. You mewled, rutting back, walls clamping down on his fingers, their thick and rough textures doing you in with the flick of your swollen nub once he coached it out of its protective sheath. He slipped the straps of your bra down your shoulder, letting the cup sag enough to show your pretty nipples, perky and glistening, tempting him to kiss and bite at them. In his rush, he snapped your bra from the middle by the girth of his tentacles, curling around your tits to knead and play with your little nubs, covering them with a sucker and he pulled, the ride closing around it and pulled. You clamped down on him, your slick sticking to his hand as you burst, eyes rolled back so far that all you could see was the white. König admired you, his eyes gleaming with glee at your climax, helping you ride it out with slow pumps of his fingers. He watched your pupils dilate, steadily coming down from your high with laboured breathing.

“You look so pretty like this,” he smiled under his hood, his eyes creasing in the low light. They roved over your face, over your hooded eyes and your parted mouth, down the slope of your neck and the swell of your breasts, and ending at your cunt, your labia closed around two digits, slick and throbbing. “You drive me crazy, Schatz.”

He was panting, his body riled up with how much his many limbs were swaying, latching onto you and hungrily climbing over you. He mumbled incoherent words, his pretty blues turning a bright red, a bloody crimson that made you feel apprehensive, fear and anxiety spiking in your mind despite the pleasurable buzz. You peered down when you felt something nudge your finger-filled cunt, looking at a particular-looking tentacle. It was harder and slick, the tip cylindrical-like with a long shaft and covered in veins, much like the ones on his arm, bulging and throbbing. You were oblivious to its use, confused about the different shape, but once it moved, the leaky head enthusiastically dipping into you, you panicked. 

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, the engorged head of his arm pushing into you, guided by a hand, pumping himself to spread the slick and pre that gathered around his cock. You keened, head thrown back when he bottomed out, the veiny girth of his cock throbbing inside of you. His cock rocked into you, pulling out until his tip lingered, and your labia stretched around his thick rod before he rammed in so suddenly. It rocked you as a whole, your smaller figure jerked back with every hard thrust, your cervix feeling the brutality of his strength and devotion. You screamed, writhing in his restrictive hold, cunt battered by a hard, leaky cock with a flared tip, bulbous and smooth. 

“Scheiße, you’re tight,” he groaned out through gritted teeth, feeling your walls stretch as wide as you could to welcome him despite his size and girth, your pussy becoming wet and sloppy with the amount of slick you produced. You pulsed around him, still sensitive from your last orgasm, clit and nipples swollen and twitching under his tentacles. He could feel everything, jolts sent down his arms followed by a euphoric sensation that ran through his mind, leaving him pussydrunk, mumbling out praises, “Du fühlst dich so gut an. Scheiße – so süß, so nass.”

You felt like you would burst, ploughed open by König’s cock arm, warm wall milking and sucking him deeper, coaxing him to fill you up with him. Your lover’s pace grew frantic, snapping harshly and deeply as if to leave a lasting presence in your innermost part, to mould your pussy into the shape of his cock and his alone, rendering you impossible to be pleasured by the sheer size difference between him and others of his kind. With a few precisely, but sloppy thrusts, he had you gushing around him, back arching - as much as you could with his strong grip - pussy clamping down on him as he fucked you into the soft algae-covered surface. You blacked out, euphoria filling your hazy mind, slick dripping down the sides of your tail and your nerves were set alight with blinding fires, burning through you so strongly. 

König swore lowly, his chest rumbling against yours, his cock throbbed and his arm stuttered, pace growing unsteady as the whole length of his arm pulsed with a load of cum. He gave one last thrust, roughly slamming into your gummy cervix, before a rush of cum shot out of his tip, flooding your womb with hot, white cum. It clung to the wall of your womb like glue, coating your cunt in the same adhesive and warm substance. He groaned, nuzzling his face in your bared neck, falling victim to his wandering mouth, biting and lapping at your shoulder and throat. His whole body shook, laboured breaths kissing your sensitive skin as something travelled through the length of his shaft, small bumps varying in size, from small pearls to big grapes, steadily moving towards the flared head of his cock. 

You sobbed when the first egg struggled against the entrance of your womb, breaking through the firmness of your soft entrance. It pained you, the forced pop into your virginal womb that wasn’t made to take in, but push out. Your cries were shushed by König, his reassuring words mixed with his heavy breathing that did little to dampen the pain he put you through. The first egg dropped into your womb, sticking to the walls, and another quickly joined it, plopping down beside it, weighing heavily by every egg, adding to the heaviness inside of you. 

“You’re doing so well,” he brushed away your tears, his thumb gently cradling your cheek, groaning and grunting at the rising eggs and his flared tip unravelling to latch onto your whole cervix, “Just a few more, ja? I am almost done.”

His “a few more” were more so dozens than anything, stuffing you until you bloated slightly. You were exhausted, limbs as heavy as your stomach did, eyes fluttering through your hazy sight, dancing on the edge of sleep and consciousness. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, falling asleep in this moment, you’d wake up from this as if it were a nasty dream, finding yourself in your little cave near the surface of the ocean. Perhaps this was all but a nightmare made up by your anxious and paranoid mind from all the stories you’ve heard from your parents and the elders. You were tired after all, sleeping wouldn’t be so bad to regain all the energy you wasted, and you hoped - that if this was your reality - that König would take care of you for doing this to you, for enrapturing you with all his madness and devotion.

You still missed the sun, the warm rays when you laid beneath it, just over a rock, but it was a far memory, further than you were willing to confess. You’d already grown used to his overbearing presence, his lingering eyes and wandering limbs, keeping one wrapped around your waists, your wrist or on your back, you’d gotten used to ignoring him and his dark eyes, bleeding into your world like the blood that stained the waters when he caught a live fish to feed you. 

He fit you in his schedule, a routine he practised on a daily basis without a fault. You would wake up with a wail, coming all over his tentacle at least twice before he left you alone for the morning. He would go hunting after making sure that you were comfortable on your little perch, returning an hour or two afterwards with enough food for the whole day and a few shiny trinkets to try to appease your sorrowful heart. They were pretty, shimmering and glinting under the bioluminescent light, similar to the pretty pearls and seashells you would collect. Despite his intentions, it only reminded you of a life long gone, one that you unknowingly and willingly gave up when you took his hand that fateful day, condemning you to a life of darkness and solitude. 

Then he’d spend the day with you, caring for your round stomach, rubbing soothing circles on your aching body, gently working the kinks and knots out of you. He provided for you, feeding you, soothing your pains, courting you with gifts and loved you with the entirety of his sickened heart. Your every need was taken care of, your hunger fulfilled, be it shark meat (a rarity for your kind of mermaid), squid or tuna, and your excitement satisfied with his cock, fingers, tentacles or mouth, eager to stuff you full despite your womb being grossly swollen with his progeny. He was fiercely protective, letting you out once in your month-long gestation, giving you the freedom to wander close to the ridge with a long arm wrapped around your waist. He never let you wander too far from him and never without a piece of him attached to you, clinging onto you as if you two were a singular entity —you probably were at this point, his thoughts and words echoing in your mind against your reluctance to accept him. 

“Mein kleiner Schatzi,” he called, laying his head on your shoulder, his hood hanging over you. He forced you on his lap, snuggling up to you as he curled - loomed - over you while he shamelessly let his hands rove over your swollen stomach, feeling the grooves and bumps of his eggs, “You are very round. One more month and we will have little Satansbraten.” [Mischievous child]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @0-ramen-0 @dreamdiaries777 @under-the-dirt @ajadell @danielle143 @bubbletae7 @mushroompasta @skystreamchan @kaelysia @notspiders @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @lilpothoscuttings @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[comatosebunny09]

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

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

— now playing: dusty room - evgeny grinko

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—no way. Could he? Could it…

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

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

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

—came.

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

“I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all.”

[witherby]

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

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

Content warning for bruises on an infant

--

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

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

And Tim turns and only sees Dick.

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

"I thought you were watching them."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sentient-stove]

"Hey, um, is this Miranda?"

"It is. Who am I talking with?"

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

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

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

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

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

"…Previous point withdrawn."

[mint-8]

Platonic Yandere Kindergarten Teacher x GN! Child! Reader

Content/Trigger warning: Mentions of child kidnapping.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We'll have so much sunshine!"

(Happy giggles)

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

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

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

"..."

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

"..."

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

"... Poo..."

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

[certified-pumi]

Unloved Beloved

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

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

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

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

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

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

A human.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I know, I know, child…” 

“It’s not fair, it’s not fair!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like how Nuwa did to him.

He was done watching you suffer your fathers’ foolishness. 

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

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

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

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

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

ending note:

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

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

Thank you everyone that stuck ‘til the end!

[goatgoesmbe]

personally, i think vampire!Gaz should chained me up in a room and keep me as his personal blood bag

[junkdrawerfan]

Absolute CRACK BatFic Idea:

An AU where Tim knows Batman needs a Robin and discovers (somehow) that Bruce Wayne has a biological son and sets out on a quest to kidnap Damian into become the new Robin.

It’s like “Fine! Dick doesn’t want it and Jason’s dead. If Bruce Wayne needs a son to turn into Robin, I’m going to go get him one!”

Too competent, no awareness Tim Drake (very fandom Tim Drake I know but listen…. It’d be funny!) hacking into the League of Assassin computers (sneaks into the cave during Bruce’s solo patrols to connect his personal laptop to get access to the BatNet) so he can talk to Damian (small boi, very sweet, was never taught internet safety because who the fuck could be talking to him on the LoA’s intranet!) and get his location.

Tim waiting months, befriending Damian the whole time, until Talia takes Damian to one of the Leagues’ European safe houses, all the while promising Damian that he’s his friend and he wants to meet but his mom is too protective.

Tim: you can’t tell her. She’ll make us stop talking.

Damian: but what if I convince her we’re friends?

Tim: hmmm let’s wait until I can see you in person! That way we can convince her together!

Maybe they’re in Paris (it’s always Paris) when Tim meets and admits the reason he’s talking to Damian is because he knows his dad who sent him to bring him home (lie).

“I’m friends with his eldest son,” Tim says, you know… like a liar. (But he did snap a selfie with Dick for this exact purpose because oh holy contingencies Batman. “I can take you to your dad.”

And Damian is unsure and resists but than Tim points out Talia never tells Damian when he’ll get to see his dad. “And isn’t taking initiative something encourages by the LoA, Dami?”

Anyway, Tim gets Damian on that plane fast enough (and with Damian’s help and Tim’s tech savvy sneakily enough) to avoid the ninjas. Until it’s 8 hour later and Tim is knocking on the door (he’d tricked Dick into visiting for the weekend because he knows he’s going to need the older boy to smooth all this over) like “TA-DA! NEW SON ALERT!”

Cue fallout and Dick and Bruce quickly realizing they’ve got two new kids in the house because Talia is going to have to pry sweet baby, naive, adorably arrogant 6 year old Damian from Bruce’s cold dead fingers and also “Oh my god we need to fix this little stalker neighbor boy before he becomes a new rogue.”

(Side Note: this could so easily be a horror fic from limited POV like from Damian’s POV :D where the audience doesn’t know who Damian is talking to while he’s being stalked and eventually kidnapped. Until the end it’s revealed to be Tim who’d have never hurt Damian and actually did bring him to Gotham to meet Bruce!)

[yankpop]

Yandere BTS OT7 - Mistake

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

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

Check more: Masterlist.

OT7 x Female reader

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping.

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

“Open it right fucking now!” 

“Don’t you dare ignore us!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-No.” 

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

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

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

You hate them all.

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

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

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

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

There’s a moment of silence. 

“Jimin-ah, why would you do that?” 

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You ignore him. 

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

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

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

There’s a softer knock on the door. 

“Y/n? Can you please come out?” 

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

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

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

“Jimin!” several boys hiss. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re tired. So fucking tired of them. 

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

Obsessed freaks, that’s what they truly are. 

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

You’re not opening the door. 

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

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

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

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

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

[dcxdpdabbles]

I've seen a lot of Danny being Ellie's dad but where is the Pariah Dark adopts this sassy ghost child that beat him in a duel and is now prince because why not adopt the overpowered child. Which leads to the JL fighting Danny for whatever reason and when he calls for help he calls his new dad and oh shit is that the Ghost King

Danny was with Sam and Tucker in the Ghost Zone when three seven-man squads of ghost knights found him. They had found an empty island near the portal that they had made into a makeshift training ground so he could safely practice his powers.

The most recent fights had shown him that he was only winning because of his quick thinking and adaptability that tricked his enemies, but he needed to get better if he ever wanted to prevent an incident like the ones at Axion labs from ever happening again.

He couldn't afford to create another arch-nemesis. Plus his good luck and clever mind could only get him so far if his body couldn't keep up.

He was in the middle of shooting the rays from the various drones Tucker set up when the knights landed on his island. Their metal clacking with each step they took, marching away from their skeleton winged horses.

At once, Danny flew between the ground, feeling more than seeing his friends scrambling for their weapons as he raised his fists.

"Who are you?" He demanded, watching the other squads surround them. Tucker and Sam spun around, each pressing up against his back in a makeshift triangle.

The hum of their ghost guns echoed through the air as the knights continued their marching until they had formed a circle around the three.

I don't like this. Danny thought felt his own ecto-ray heating up in his palms. They look oddly familiar. Where have I seen those armors?

The knights all, simultaneously, dropped to one knee, surprising the three teenagers. They bowed their heads, and even the winged horses followed suit,

"Prince Phantom." The one right in front of Danny said, "We have come as your formal escort to your Father's keep. He demands your presence."

"My Dad?" Danny repeats, voiced, laced with doubt. , "My Dad sent ghosts to escort me home? Do I look stupid to you?"

"It is not your sire, Jack Fenton, I speak of," The Knight explains, voice still respectful even when staring at the ground. Danny can't see his eyes or any of the other knights, as they are hidden in the shadows of their helmets. "I speak of the Ghost King, Pariah Dark, who has chosen you are his Heir. You are summoned to complete the adoption process."

"Yeah, that's going to be a no from me." Danny deadpans, even if his insides have turned to ice. Pariah Dark was resealed, Danny personally made sure of that, so why was this guy speaking as if he was back?

"Apologies, my Prince, but you do not have a choice," declares the other, and almost as if that was a cue of some kind, the other knights rise from their knees. They descend on the trio faster than Danny was expecting.

He ducks and waves as three different fists fly to his face, reaching down to aim an uppercut at the one on his right. It lands with a clack and a sting in his knuckles as the helmets odd shape as some protection to the chin

Shaking out his hand, Danny is not prepared for the kick to his side that sends him flying.

He lands in a heap but is quick to get back to his feet as rope is lassoed around one of his wrists. He gapes at it as another knight, quickly throws on to his other arms and suddenly he's being tugged in two different directions.

Summoning his ice, Danny has it travel down the ropes towards the knights, who drop it just as the ice would have encased their hands. Freed, Danny, leaps back as a flying kick paces mere inches from his face and has to quickly raise his hands to block an ecto-ray to the chest.

"Do not harm the Prince!" The leader barks "Capture the humans, he will go willingly if we have hostages!"

Danny swings his head towards Sam and Tucker, who have been forced up against a wall, shooting desperately at the advancing knights. Their shots are being knocked away by flowing swords, and it was obvious their movements were slowing down.

Despite the many fights they have helped in a fight, neither Sam or Tucker could outlast a ghost. Their stamina was superior, and sadly, it seemed these particular ghosts also had training under their belts.

"No!" Danny moved to help but just as he turned his eyes away from the Knight Leader, a bubble of ectoplasm exploded in his face.

"I told you not to harm the Prince!" Someone roars over the sound of ringing in his ears. Hands fell on all his limbs holding him down, even if he weakly tried to shake them off. Everything is spinning, though, and his vision is blurring in and out of focus. He sees Sam fall to the ground with Tucker screaming something he can't make out before Danny is left up and dragged away.

There is a weight around his wrists and ankles, indicating he's been tied up, but Danny can barely keep his head from bobbing to the side. He had no energy to attempt to break his bonds.

He knew no more as he was thrown into a carriage, the block dots in his vision taking over completely.

Three years later, Danny is overlooking the development of a ghost colony in a far-off corner of King Pariah's empire. This colony was made entirely of former slaves whom Danny fought his adoptive father tooth and nail to free.

Pariah moods were odd. He controlled everything Danny did, but he also wanted Danny to take his own stances on how the empire should be run. The Ghost King's control had expanded to nearly all corners of the Ghost Zone, breaking and tearing apart any resistance they found.

War had broken out as ghosts from various tribes and kingdoms fought desperately to keep their freedom. Pariah saw no challenge in their attempts, crushing anyone that stood in his way.

His aim was to once again rule all over the dead, and later, once every ghost bowed to his whim, invade the living world again but this time there would be no Halfa child to stop him.

Said Halfa that was now heir of the tyrant. Everyone knew about the kidnapped Prince, as his tale was told in resistance meetings both in pity and in rage.

Prince Phantom's iconic white hair and green eyes were just as widely known as his golden collar was. It was created by King Pariah, to keep the prince in the area by an invisible fence he set up. Should Prince Phantom attempt to fly or walk out of those areas, the collar would turn into flaming chains, yanking the prince back. It wouldn't burn him, thankfully, but it would drag him roughly.

It didn't help that the collar stopped Prince Phantom from accessing his powers. It was almost like he was a full human, except he was trapped in his ghost form and in the Ghost Zone, which meant his options were far more limited than normal.

He was more of a royal hostage than an actual heir.

Even out here, while overlooking reports and listening to testimonies, Prince Phantom could not leave the tower of the newest colony. At all times there was two guards that followed him and limited his movements too.

Despite his position, the Prince did everything he could to protect the people, tales of him jumping to a servant's defense against his father, advocating for the abolishment of slavery, and even offering to serve any punishment for any ghost child. The people loved their prince, and all wanted to one day see him free as well.

Rumors had it that the leaders of the main resistance were two humans who were desperately trying to free Prince Phantom, but since everyone in the rebellion's army's identity remained secret, no one knew how true those rumors were.

Danny unrolls a scroll, sighing at the numbers. "If nothing is done about the harvest, the people will starve come winter. We need to start rationing. Take whatever you need from my own supplies before we start applying it to the people."

"My Prince, we couldn't possibly ask that of you. Already, you granted us freedom and a home. ," Started the mayor of the colony, only to stop at the sight of a large magical circle forming around the prince. Danny's eyes widened as well, feeling his collar start to glow as whatever it is attempt to yank him away.

He feels it start to crack as the magic overpowers the collar's settings. Hope flares in his heart as his guards leap to their feet. Before they can so much as come near him, the mayor throws himself at them with a roar. "Run, my Prince! I shall buy you time!"

Danny is swallowed by light before he can respond, the collar left behind to clatter against the floor. He is flung through a portal made of multiple colors, so bright and blinding he has to close his eyes and hold his hands in front of his face. He lands with a startled yelp, but his hands fling to his neck.

When all he feels is flesh, tears burn his eyes sight as he sobs. He's free. He's finally free.

"Well, this isn't what I was expecting when I offered a piece of my soul" An accented voice hums, drawing attention to a group of oddly dressed strangers. A man in a trench coat lights a cigar, the glow casting his face in a dim light as he stares down at Danny with a detached appraisal glint in his eyes. "Tell me, why did my spell bring me a child when I asked for a champion to overthrow the Ghost King?"

Danny's ice core starts to slowly freeze the room over, his breath visible as his eyes harden. "It brought me here because I am going to kill my father."

"Prince Phantom" Trench coat man identifies with some relief. "A pleasure to finally meet you. This is the Justice League and they like to lend a hand in your parricide."

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Can't Leave Me

Pairing: Dark Hawks x (female) Reader

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

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: Seeing a darker side of Keigo has you rethinking your entire relationship. But it’s not like Keigo is planning on letting you go. 

WARNINGS: Murder; Kidnapping. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

His hand rubs comforting circles over the expanse of your back, innumerous apologies being mumbled as he kisses the crown of your head. 

“I should’ve eased you into it. I‘m so sorry, baby.” his tone is apologetic, almost regretful, but you can’t be bothered by that.

Not after what you witnessed. 

The queasiness in your stomach increases, and you swallow hard, closing your eyes in a poor attempt to control both yourself and the wave of nausea that threatens to rise. 

“Next time, I promise I’ll let you know beforehand, ‘kay? No more nasty surprises, I promise.” his cooing has you pushing your palms against the edge of the marble kitchen island, and you take a few stumbling steps backwards.

“I really thought you’d like to see my patriotic work.”

“You…” his golden eyes squint for a second when you dodge his hand from touching your arm, “That man-”

“He’s no one. Just some fucking dirtbag I caught the other day on patrol. No one even cares that he’s gone, if that makes you feel better.”

You look at him in bewilderment, unable to believe his words. Was Keigo - always so sweet and gentleman - trying to convince you that killing people was fine? That it was okay for his basement to have pools of blood and pieces of human limbs?

The pungent smell of fresh blood is still haunting your nose and you scrunch it, remembering the nasty scene your boyfriend presented you. 

When Keigo asked you to come to his house, telling you he had a surprise stored in his basement for you, your mind wandered to the idea of receiving a sweet gift.

Maybe a painting or a bracelet, anything with a romantic meaning. A normal thing. 

But when Keigo took you to his basement, chest inflated with pride at what he called “city scum cleaning” it wasn’t at all what you expected. 

“You’re worrying too much.” he sighs, his wings ruffling behind him. “I’m cleaning the city from the filthy scum, nothing else.”

“They’re human beings, Keigo. You can’t take justice into your own hands, that’s not your job.”

Keigo only shrugs his shoulders, disinterested at your attempt to bring some conscience to him.

“I know this upsetted you, baby, so why don’t we change the subject? How about we start making dinner and then watch a movie? I know you’re excited to see that new action movie, right?”

His proposition makes you feel sick to your stomach for more reasons than one, but the realization that your boyfriend is trying to distract you from the fact that he’s a serial killer is too much.

You need to leave. Immediately. 

But you’re scared. Terrified of becoming Keigo’s new addition to his basement, if he realizes that you’re not on his side. You’re not sure if he loves enough to spare you from such destiny.

You’re not sure of anything anymore. 

You shift the weight from one foot to the other, eyes drifting to the kitchen door. 

“I think…” your voice shakes, and you attempt to clear your throat, “Maybe I should go,  Keigo. I’m not…feeling great.”

His expression drops for a moment, cold anger being replaced with feigned sympathy so quickly that you almost believe you imagined it. 

“Sweet cheeks, if you’re not feeling well, then you can just sleep over.” he takes a minuscule step in your direction, his wings stretching behind him for a moment. Demonstrating their enormous size before he pulls them back.

A not very subtle threat.

“I can prepare a warm bath for you, and then get you in bed with some painkillers. How about that?” 

You shake your head, feeling helpless. 

“No, Keigo, it’s fine, really. I can just go home and-”

“Nonsense. Besides, I don’t like the idea of you all alone in your apartment, especially if you’re feeling sick.” he brushes you off, “I can’t have you puking or passing out when you’re on your own. What kind of boyfriend would that make me, am I right?” 

A few of his feathers gracefully fly in your direction, gently but effectively pushing you forward. 

The conflict inside your mind only fires up, but you’re hardly able to bitterly swallow down all the shabby excuses and useless begging that would only result in angering Keigo. 

Your body bumps against his and Keigo instantly wraps his arm around your waist, replacing the feathers that rejoin his wings. 

He kisses your cheek with an arm tightly gripping your waist, as if he’s waiting for you to bolt and run away. You’d be lying if you say the idea doesn’t seem awfully tempting.

Maybe if he looks away or gets distracted…maybe then  you could take the chance. 

“C’mon, let’s get you a bath, ‘kay? You’re really not looking too good.” 

The melancholic moonlight hits you in the face, seeping through the locked window. Your eyes are wide open, despite the ungodly time of the night. It’s quiet now, aside from the light cricket’s sounds and the occasional car speeding up through the street.

You barely move your head as you glance towards the fluorescent numbers of the digital clock on the bedside table next to you, careful enough to shift as little as you can.

The arm draped across your waist feels like a rope, keeping you bound to Keigo.

But it’s better than the red wing that lays wide open in all of its immense size, acting as a second blanket to your body, caging you to the bed with its oppressive weight. 

Despite your objections of becoming too hot during the night, Keigo still insisted on covering your body with it, shutting you down with a gentle kiss.

He sleeps soundly, his chest a few inches away from your chest, his deep calm breathing hitting your ear and neck. 

You can’t sleep. Your mind is too bothered, too upset to even consider something as futile as sleeping when there are more urgent necessities. Such as escaping this house. 

Keigo fell into a deep slumber a few hours ago while you remained awake, thinking about your next steps. You have to leave the bed, leave the house, leave him. 

But even the last step seems complicated when you can’t even pull yourself out of the bed - out of Keigo’s suffocating embrace. 

You’re frozen with fear, you begrudgingly admit. Scared of accidentally waking Keigo up and in the process, to wake a side of him that you don’t want to see. 

You have to do this.

The first step is to test the waters.

You take a deep breath, slowly shifting your body, your hand gently pushing his arm down and away from you. Nothing happens.

Your heartbeat speeds up as you embrace yourself for the final step. 

Looking down at the impending problem of escaping the red wing, you take the decision to slide underneath it. 

It’s awkward and embarrassing when you weirdly dive underneath the wing, squishing yourself against the bed as you try to touch the feathers as little as you can. They don’t pulse or move, remaining completely still as you make your escape. 

A relieved sigh gets caught in your throat when your feet touch the floor. Just a little more, you think, bending your body to slide down the curve of the bed. 

Premature hope makes your breathe faster. Maybe you can actually get away.

Oh god, you’re actually going to get away. 

Your whole body freezes for a scary moment when Keigo mumbles a few incoherent words, shifting and turning in bed, but thankfully he remains asleep. You can breathe again.

It’s a bit hard to walk in the darkness, only the dim light of the moon helping you guide yourself, as your feet take baby steps and you prod the walls with your hands until you finally find the closet room.

The door creaks slightly as you slowly close it, and you hold your breath for a moment. Nothing happens. 

You open the light, hoping it doesn’t infiltrate through the door’s crack and search the place with your eyes, looking for your clothes. Keigo kept them there before handing you one of his shirts earlier in the night, saying that it would be more comfortable for you to sleep in his clothes than in your outer clothes. 

It’s easy to find your shirt and pants, both of them tucked away in a corner of the room, the evident contrast between Keigo’s expensive clothing and your cheap casual outfit standing out. 

You quickly put them on, looking around for your purse before remembering that you had left it in the kitchen. Fuck. 

You close the light, and silently leave the closet. 

“Babe.” 

Your blood runs cold at the sight of Keigo casually standing in front of you, arms crossed in his chest. There’s no anger  in his face - nor sleepiness, you notice - but there are hints of annoyance. Did he really expect you not to try and run? 

“I’m kinda disappointed, I gotta say.” he shakes his head with a tired sigh. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t do anything stupid tonight. Guess I was wrong.”

“I wasn’t-” your words lose strength, and for a moment, the idea of dashing for the door with all of your speed seems incredibly enticing, “It’s not what you think.”

“Yeah? Pfft, c’mon, you seriously think you’re gonna fool me into believing any crappy excuse? Like I didn’t just catch you trying to sneak off on me?” he clicks his tongue, messy strands of blonde hair falling onto his forehead, “But you know what?”

It’s now. The moment he switches the flip on you and beats you and-

“Let’s continue this tomorrow, alright? It’s late, so how about we sleep on this and in the morning, we’ll talk.” 

You look at him, surprised. Isn’t he gonna drag you by the hair to his basement and beat you? 

Keigo directs you back to the closet, watching as you hesitate to change back into his shirt. 

“That was never gonna work, you know that, right?” he says. “It’s not like you could outrun me. I’m too fast for you, with or without quirk.”

When you get back on the bed, his wing covers you once again and his arm pulls you flush against his chest, suffocating you with his presence.

He kisses the nape of your neck. 

“Sleep tight.”

You wake up startled, mind buzzing with a chilling nightmare. Red blood and sticky viscera follow you even though you rise away from the realm of dreams. 

You breathe in. It was just a dream. 

Distant sounds coming from another room catch your attention and you remain quiet, catching the tiny rays of sunlight that come through the curtains, basking on pacific solitude. 

What are you supposed to do now? Relent and pretend that everything is peachy, to act as if the basement isn’t torture chamber and that your boyfriend isn’t some cold-hearted killer? 

You roll to the side, yelping when your leg gets caught on. 

A chain. 

A soft leather wrapped tightly around your ankle, connecting it to the links of metal that keep you in a short leash. There’s barely any length to it, meaning you won’t even be able to reach the bathroom if you need to. 

This can’t be real. 

You persistently rub your eyes, shaking your head as fear threatens to spill in the shape of a panic attack. 

Keigo wouldn’t do this. He can’t do this. He just can’t. 

Much to your consternation, you don’t wake up. This isn’t some wicked dream, after all. 

“No, no, please, no.” you cry, pulling and tugging on the solid chain with both of your hands. It doesn’t work, despite all the clicking it does. Doesn’t so much as move away from your ankle.

But it does make a shrilling noise and soon Keigo rushes into the room, a worried expression on his face before he understands what you’re doing. 

He plops next to you, firm hands pulling your shaky ones away from the chain, despite you not giving up and you yelp when he uses his strength to expertly twist your wrist, forcing you to let go of the chain.

“Keigo, please, don’t…don’t do this. I promise I won’t run away, I swear!” you plead, snot and tears pathetically dripping down your face as Keigo pulls you into his lap, a large hand securing both of your wrists. 

“Keigo…”

“Shh, it’s okay. Everything is fine, it’s all okay.” 

It only makes you cry harder. One of his hands rubs your back while the other holds the back of your neck, pushing your face to his chest. 

“C’mon, don’t cry.  You know how awful that makes me feel.” he presses a gentle kiss to your head, rocking your bodies back and forth, comforting you as if you were a child throwing a tantrum.

“You left me no choice. You were gonna leave me, abandon me like I never meant anything to you.” his voice is almost quiet and you know that if you looked up, his face would resemble a kicked puppy.

It almost makes you feel bad until the stupid chain in your ankle clinks, reminding you that Keigo isn’t a good man. 

“But it’s okay now. I know you’re not happy with… our current situation, but you’ll soon see it my way. I’m doing this for you - for us.” 

His arms tightened around your wriggling body, keeping you close to him. 

“I’m not letting anything get between us. Not even you.”

[diejager]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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