#Tw. abduction

[rottmnt-residuum]

part 23

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[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was abducted by a cult that was deeply convinced that getting me an IRL date with my gf was required to save the world. But my gf lived on Mars.

[zu-is-here]

<– • –>

[system-to-the-madness]

My Cards - Spencer Reid x Reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort Word Count: 2 916 Warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence (abduction, murder), mentions of drug use in the past Summary: At the day that Spencer is clean for eleven years, he decides it’s time to show you his cards. A/N: I've got a few asorted fics that I've writen ages ago, and will publish one after another (might sprinkle some anime and soc in between). Sorry for that already. If you want to block a certain fandom: the tag to blog is #mad (fandom shortcut) for criminal minds, that would be #mad cm

13 years. That’s how long Spencer Reid was your colleague already. Actually – he would correct you – it had been 13 years, 1 month, 2 weeks, 5 days, 14 hours, 7 minutes and approximately 26 seconds.

You were not sure for how long he had been your best friend. Probably 12 years. Spencer would not have been able to answer that question if you had asked him. After all this time he still sometimes struggled in accepting that there was someone he could call whenever, literally whenever he needed someone.

You had been with him through thick and thin, had been there for him after he had been abducted by Hankel, had comforted him, when he had cried for Hotch and Jack after Hayley had been murdered, had talked until the early hours of the morning after Emily had supposedly died. You had never been further than a phone call away, had never complained when he called you in the late hours of the night because he had had another nightmare, had cooked him tea or watched trashy soap operas with him when he had felt down.

He wondered if he had ever paid you back enough. Whether the few times you had called him after a nightmare or a traumatic event or a bad case would ever be enough to make up for what you had given him. With you around, his flat felt like a home, with you on the other end of the sofa he did not worry about the shadows lingering in the corners of the room.

He felt like a pervert for the many times he had asked you to share a bad with him, so he could fall asleep more easily. Every time, without fail you had climbed under the covers with him, maybe even wrapped your arms around him and stroked his back, lulling him to sleep. He hated himself for all the times he had reached out a hand while you were sleeping, to feel if you were really there, if your skin was warm, your chest lifting and lowering with even breaths.

People often liked calling him a genius, but it had taken him many years to figure out that somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with you after you had prevented his complete self-destruction over Maeve‘s death. He felt guilty for it, for having fallen in love with you while you had helped him grieve another woman he had loved, and somewhere in his heart still did. One night you had told him, that he would always carry the people he had once loved in his heart. He had asked how it would ever be possible for someone to accept him if a part of him still loved someone else. You had shrugged at that and answered, that this person would have to understand that we are made off who and what we love, that this way Maeve had become a part of him, which this person would love too, if they loved him. He had nodded at that, and wondered if you could ever love him.

When he had first realised his feelings for you, he had thought his heart wanted to numb itself by making up emotions for you to forget about Maeve, but after years he felt just as strongly about you as he had back then, and he came to the conclusion that maybe he had always loved you, deep in his heart.

12 years. That’s how long you had been friends with Spencer. And yet you had the distinct feeling, that tonight was different, that tonight was not his usual call for comfort. He had been nervous, when he had asked you if you wanted to come back to his place after work, and he had never been nervous around you before.

Now you stood in his living room, your shoes kicked off next to the door, just like his, your jacket on the coatrack, half covered by his. Usually you had no trouble to make yourself at home, but Spencer’s behaviour, his nervousness, made you feel like this was the very first time you had stepped into his flat, so you stood in the living room, fiddling with your fingers, while Spencer was searching for something in his bedroom.

When he emerged back into the living room, he tossed you something, which you barely caught. Confused you turned a coin in your hands, the dim light not allowing you to read the lettering immediately, but then you made it out.

“10 years?”

You held up the coin to take an even closer look, but other than that, and a small symbol, you could not find anything else edged into it.

“Is that a sobriety coin,” you asked, handing it back to Spencer, who took the coin back and let it wander through his fingers.

“It is,” he nodded, letting the coin disappear into seemingly thin air, presenting his empty palms to you before he sat down on the sofa.

You tried thinking back to ten years ago, and what had happened back then. Somewhat over eleven years ago Hankle had kidnapped him-

Spencer seemed to have interpreted your focused expression correctly, because without further prompting he explained.

“Dilaudid. Hankel injected me with it repeatedly. I- I developed an addiction.”

For a long while you looked at him as he was fiddling around with the coin again. You had always suspected that there had been a phase soon after the Hankle incident in which something had been off. You had basically lived at his place for half a year, since he had called you every night, asking you to come over. You had never hesitated to do so, your desire to comfort your friend also driven by the worry he might do something stupid. Like give in to an addiction. You should have confronted him about it, should have asked. Actually, you had thought about it, countless times, but always come to the conclusion, that he would only deny everything and shut himself off. You had let him suffer on his own, he had never, until today, felt comfortable enough to tell you about it. Maybe you could have helped him. Maybe-

“Actually, it’s eleven years today,” he suddenly said, and lifted his head to look at you. The coin was, once again, gone. “I just… I wanted to spend today with you, instead of going to a meeting.”

“I-”

The voice died in your throat at Spencer’s soft, lopsided smile, the smile he always gave you when he knew exactly what you were thinking, but also knew it was wrong.

“You think you should have said something back then, don’t you?”

You nodded quietly and watched him lean back into the cushions.

“Would you believe me if I told you that you’re the person, who actually helped me to get clean?”

He chuckled at your furrowed brows and patted the space next to him on the sofa, but you remained standing, rooted in spot. You had no right to sit next to him, to be here in his apartment, to be anywhere near the man you had let down knowingly.

“You left a flyer here once, for the community centre,” Spencer explained.

You remembered the flyer. You had spent hours upon hours looking up drug addiction in law enforcement until you had come across a newly funded self-help group in a new community centre not too far away from his flat. After work you had driven by there and picked up a flyer, which a couple of days later you had put onto Spencer’s table, telling him you were interested in one of the pottery classes, and if he wanted to go with you. The advertisement for the pottery class had been right underneath that for the self-help group and been your boldest attempt at ever confronting him.

“Without that flyer, I never would have had the courage to get help,” Spencer confessed. “Other than you, of course.”

“What did I do,” your voice almost was not loud enough for him to hear, drowned by tears that now also blurred your vision. “I just left you alone, I-”

“You always came when you called,” he explained, “I wanted you over as much as possible so I wouldn’t have time for the next fix. I- well I practically used your compassion to get clean.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

Spencer’s smile slowly died, and he pressed his lips together, a clear sign that he knew the answer but felt uncomfortable sharing it.

After a moment of deafening silence, he answered. “I was scared you’d be disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed? Spencer I could never-”

“It was easier to believe that than to accept the truth, that there really might be a person who would care for me either way, no matter how much I fucked up,” he confessed. “It’s still- I still struggle to accept sometimes that you are always here for me. Like… nobody ever really cared about me, other than my mum, and yet… you’ve been here every time I needed you, for years.”

“Not every time. I should’ve-”

“Every single time. And I just can’t understand why you would do that to yourself.”

“Because you’re my friend, Spencer. And I wanted to help you. Just like you helped me, too, when I needed help.”

“When did I help you?”

“You were the first one to check in on me whenever I had to shoot someone. You always make soup when I’m sick, you come over when I have nightmares, or am just lonely. You take me out to movies when I whine about not having a social life, you read me to sleep, sometimes for hours. Do you even realise how much you helped me all these years? Without you I would’ve quit the BAU a long time ago, but with you I can face the demons.”

Spencer looked at you, really looked at you. The soft orange light of the reading lamp beside the couch made his brown eyes glow like ambers. Neither of you turned away, just blinked occasionally. You wanted to tell him, then and there, that you loved him, that you had loved him for years, but you figured that there were some truths your friendship could not withstand. Maybe Spencer had felt that way about his addiction the whole time too. You wondered if there would ever be a time where you could tell him ‘hey Spencer, actually back then, I was totally in love with you and thought I’d spent the rest of my life with you’, and then you’d laugh about it. You blinked the thought away.

“Why did you tell me now,” you wondered, being the first to break the silence.

“I figured, after eleven years, it’s time to tell someone. So tonight I’m showing you my cards.”

“Cards? Plural?”

“There is one more thing.” Spencer got up from where he had been sitting on the couch, but did not step closer while your thoughts were reeling.

One more thing. Another secret he had never told you. Had he been diagnosed with schizophrenia? No, statistically he was too old for that. Dementia? His mother had it, and sometimes even young people got diagnosed with it. No, probably not, you would have noticed. Was he leaving the BAU? Did he have cancer?

“Whatever world ending scenarios you’re coming up with right now, it’s none of that, I promise you,” he spoke quietly. You hated how well he knew you. Well, not hated, but.. well.

“Is it bad,” you asked, watching how he started fiddling around with his hands again. He suddenly got nervous.

“I don’t know,” he answered, his voice a little higher than before. “It depends, I guess.”

“On what?”

“You.” His answer made your heart sink. “But things will be different, no matter what.”

“I don’t want things to be different,” you shook your head, silent panic rising in your chest. “I like the way things are now.” Quickly you took a few steps across the living room right to him and grabbed one of his hands. “I don’t want things to change!”

“And I don’t want to keep secrets, so please let me be honest.”

For a moment you looked at him, at his beautiful brown eyes, which had brought you comfort for so many years, at his wild, brown curls, at his dress shirt and the loosened tie, and the soft cardigan, and then his eyes again. If you allowed him to speak, you might lose everything you had had with him. He had been your anchor, long before you had developed feelings for him, but now that you had, you wanted to fight, so you did not have to give him up.

But he was his own person. Earlier or later, he would tell you. And he had said whether that secret was bad or not depended on you, so you needed to be ready to accept what he was about to tell you, just like that time your high school crush had confessed to you that he was gay and you had ended up with setting him up with his crush. They were married now. So, whatever it was-

Slowly you nodded, and Spencer’s previously tense features softened slightly. His eyes skipped over your face, making you feel strange self-aware, and his fingers tightened around yours, from where you had taken his hand; a comforting squeeze. Carefully he shuffled closer and bent down. For a moment you thought he might kiss you, but of course he would not do that. Yet he did not lean to your ear either. He just looked at you for a moment, making you hold your breath.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered, his breath fanning over your lips hotly, “That’s my last secret. I’m in love with you and have been for the past three years. What you do with that information is now up to you.”

For a moment you did not move, did not dare moving, just stared at him with your heart hammering in your chest. You were an excellent profiler, had studied human behaviour for soon 20 years, had learnt to recognise what lying looked like. Spencer was not lying. Maybe you were dreaming, but even then-

A flicker of your eyes to his lips was all it took for Spencer to lurch forward and close the remaining distance between your lips. He was not gentle as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in, but rather desperate, desperate to finally feel you as close as he had always dreamt of, desperate to taste your lips and feel your breath. Hoping to find anything to hold onto, you wrapped your arms around him too, slid one hand into his fine locks, the other gripping tightly into his soft cardigan.

Kissing him was nothing like you had imagined it to be, but so much better. He was careful and yet demanding, and he slipped his tongue over your lips and into your mouth, gentle but unrelenting in the way he held you, walked you back to the couch, where he slowly lowered you down, before sitting down next to you, never breaking the kiss. Faintly you felt his heartbeat in his lips and under his skin, hammering hard, testimony of how much he had wanted this. And with each touch of his, your own guilt over the feelings you had developed for him slowly melted away and left nothing but hot, searing love in its path.

Only when you were out of breath, lips red and swollen, cheeks hot, did you pull away, gently shoved against Spencer’s chest, who was still trying to chase your lips. His eyes were wide and glassy as he finally met yours, still completely entranced, and yet confused as to why you had pulled away.

“Enough,” you commanded with shivering voice and a smile on your face, “enough, I need air.”

“Oh,” Spencer mumbled, and you could pinpoint the exact moment he started building up his walls, already searching for an excuse to explain what just had happened.

Not wanting to allow this, you quickly grabbed his face in your hands, and forced him to look at you. His cheeks were hot, and his eyes danced around uncertainly, before finally resting on yours.

“I’m in love with you too,” you whispered, and leant forward to peck his lips, before quickly hiding your face against his neck. You barely saw his look of doubt turn into that of surprise before a smile took over his face.

“Oh,” he repeated, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer against his chest. He smelled divine. Like safety, like home.

“Can we just stay like this forever,” you asked, you voice muffled against his skin.

“Actually-” from his tone of voice you could tell he would doubtlessly tell you how long it would either of you approximately take, until one of you needed the bathroom or something to eat, but then he stopped himself. “Yes.”

You chuckled against his neck, causing a shiver to run through him and goosebumps to rise on his arms. Gently you brushed your lips against his skin, not getting enough of how soft it felt. Forever was probably not long enough.

You had been colleagues with Spencer for 13 years, his best friend for 12. But from tonight on you also were his lover.

[winniethewife]

I'm getting what is mine (William Tell x F!Reader)

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.  Kidnapping, Sensory deprivation, Non-con, Stockholm syndrome, Drugged, PinV, Fembodied, Oral sex, Bondage, unprotected sex, toxic relationship, Fake Death

Minors DNI

For @romana-after-dark 's Dead Dove Do Not Eat December.

Words: 1162

Just call my name, I'm yours to tame…

I'm wide awake, I crave your taste

All night long 'til morning comes

I'm getting what is mine, you gon' get yours,

It was Dark, Silent, and the gag in her mouth made chafed slightly at the sides of her mouth. The blindfold around her eyes was secured tight as were her hands, tied together behind her back. She had noise cancling headphones over her ears. Whoever had done this know what he was doing. From what little she could tell she was on a bed, the sheets weren’t every comfortable. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting there, clad only her bra and underwear, the cold air of the room on her skin. Suddenly she feels a hand on her shoulder, she flinches at the touch. It’s oddly gentle, the rough calloused hand caressing her shoulder, then down her arm, lifting her hand, Pressing lips on her fingers and slowly but surely up her arm. A chill runs up her spine, she’s not sure what she’s meant to do, such gentle actions in a situation that was far from gentle. She lets out a soft involuntary whimper, this causes William pause. 

This was something he had fantasized about for a long time. Just taking what he wanted, it had seemed so easy when he had started talking to her at the bar of the casino, when he bought her a drink and slipped the tasteless powder in her drink, when he got her back to his motel room where she was out cold. But it seemed a little harder watching her over night. He hadn’t tried anything yet, showing restraint, just sleeping next to her unconscious body, after making sure she couldn’t get away of course. In the morning when she started to wake, he positioned her on her knees, then watching her squirm and twitch in fear, until finally… he was ready. But that soft innocent sound, that was what made this just slightly harder.

“I’m not going to hurt you…” He says softly, knowing she can’t hear him, he wonders if he’s saying it to reassure her or keep himself accountable.  He doesn’t think about it very long before moving to lay her down, his mouth moving along her body, his fingers curls under the elastic of her underwear, pulling them down gently. She lets out a sob, terrified. For her every touch was so intense. Every single time his lips made contact with her skin, every move he made, when he pushes her legs to the side, when he trusted into her…It was all so much, too much. Tears soaking the blind fold as she cries out, terrified of every second, terrified of her own bodies reaction, terrified of what will happen next.

~

Two days pass, William does everything to take care of her, something she doesn’t expect. He makes sure all her needs are taken care of, but he doesn’t ever take off any of the sensory deprivation devices, just the gag. She has barley spoken a word, just letting him know when she needed to use to the bathroom or she was done eating or something similar. But that morning when she woke up, she realized she could hear the soft breathing of the sleeping man who held her tight. She gasped slightly as he pulls her in closer. His mouth on her earlobe.

“Hello Beautiful.” He whispers in her ear then bites down softly on the helix of her ear. The voice, it calls back the image, the handsome man at the bar with the slicked back hair, and a handsome face. 

“William.” She is shocked, her whole body freezes. It’s all starting to come together now. William kisses her neck and hums softly.

“Yes...God you’re so pretty baby. And you’re mine.” He growls in her ear, pulling her in close, thrusting his hips into hers, she feels his cock against her. A soft moan escapes her lips. She feels instant shame as she does so. William huffed into her shoulder, moving his hips into hers, snaking his arm down to her cunt, running his fingers through her wet folds, drawing more soft moans from her. She doesn’t know what to feel as he moves her body, parting her legs and finding his way with his mouth to her heat. Running his tongue along her slit his thumb rubbing circles on her Clit.

“No, No, No, Please, Please…Ngh.” She tried to move away, tried to make an effort, but he easily held her down as he moved to pin her. “I said you’re mine.”

~

This became her life after that. She was his, and that was her only reason to exist. She loses track of the time she’d been in this one motel room, but slowly she earns the ability to see, to be untied, to do things on her own. Over time she doesn’t even think about her life before, this was her life now, and at some point she hardly recognized herself. She was waiting for William to return after one of the now rare occasions that he left. As He came in the door she stood up from the bed, excited to see him. Like a dog who’s master had been gone all day.

“Hey, look at you, so pretty for me.” He says as he looks over her, she’s wearing one of the outfits he bought her, they don’t cover much, but he likes it that way. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her in to kiss her cheek, then deeply inhales her scent, burying his face in her neck. He nips at the sensitive skin under her jaw. She lets out a soft mewl as he does so. “Mmm…That’s it…Who do you belong to?”

“You, William…Only you.” She answers. Her hands wrap around his shoulders as he growls in appreciation.

“That’s right baby…You’re mine.” His voice is low as he presses his tongue on one of the Hickeys on her neck, a physical reminder of his ownership. After a moment of appreciating his prize he pulls away and looks into her eyes. “You’re ready, sweetheart. We’re hitting the road tonight babe, just you and me, gonna show the world who you belong to now.” He smiles softly, an unusual look for him. She smiles back.

“I’d follow you anywhere, Darling.” She whispers, she means it. She would follow him to the ends of the earth.  She was entirely enraptured by him, not even a thought of what he had done, how she got in this position in the first place. None of it mattered.

“That’s my girl…” His lips meet hers and they move together in sync. He got exactly what he wanted, and all it took was a little persuasion, a bit of patience, and convincing the entire town that this girl…was dead. Now she was his, and his alone. They would leave in the morning around 10, when everyone who knew her buried another woman’s body.

And she was none the wiser, her mind, body and soul were devoted to him, and him alone. ~

Masterlist

[rouecentric]

╰►❝ SORRY I KIDNAPPED YOU, DO YOU STILL WANNA FUCK? ❞

summary: dion gets... interested.. in his fathers friend.

a/n: i fantasized ab dion with a dilf/milf! reader, have fun reading this shit

the actual work is under here!

the first thing DION noticed when he entered his father's office was an unfamiliar figure sitting in front of his father, cheerfully interacting with each other.

your voice was rather enticing, such a shame you stopped talking after hearing the doors open. maybe he should've just waited before opening the door just a little more so he could hear your voice?

DEON, who was surprised by his father announcing that you, a person from one of the other five ducal families, would be overseeing his training.

DEON, who always trusted his teacher, you, and your opinions, your word is law to him, even if it's negative about his father.

DEON, who overtime started noticing little things about you, such as how your tone would ever so slightly change when talking to people you disliked.

DEON, who always felt an uncomfortable pang in his heart whenever you would act all lovey-dovey with your wife/husband and children.

DEON, who realised he saw you as more than a mentor and friend. he later pondered if he should kill your spouse so he could be with you.

DEON, who started to try and seduce you, noticing your little expressions whenever he does so.

DEON, who abducted you in your sleep and tied you up to a bed in a manor he bought himself, all just for you💕

DEON, who when you woke up, demanded that you'd say you love him, looking at you with a crazed look in his eyes.

DEON, who worshipped your body and kissed you all over your body when you said it, as if you were some sort of god.

DEON, who let you use him and his body however you saw fit.

DEON, who happily partook in the fall of the agriche dukedom because of your orders.

DEON, who was now your lover, having an affair on your poor unsuspecting spouse and children, who thought that the reason you and him were this close was because he saw you as a parental figure.

[veampa]

Yandere alphabet sebastian michaelis

Gender neutral friendly!

Character(s)- sebastian michaelis

Warnings are tagged, please please PLEASE don't hesitate to tell me if I've missed any

That being said this is purely fictional and is in no way shape or form trying to romanticise these types of behaviours I am purely writing this for others enjoyment and because It's something I find interesting to write, please do not seek out relationships anywhere remotely like this and if you do find yourself in a relationship like this where you are unsafe please try and get somewhere safe if you are able to.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?- Sebastian isn't far too affectionate, after all he's a busy man his contract with the earl is a busy job after all, though there is times where he gets more touchy, hugging you close to him with the little bits of free time he has not budging when you yell and try to squirm out his grasp

♥

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?- He doesn't care, if he's on a tighter schedule than it'll be less messy, if he has enough time then he can make it messy, though its not often he'll kill another.

♥

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?- No, he understands it's gonna be a hard time for you to adjust so the least he could do is not mock you, though he might occasionally laugh at your futile escapes or your meek insults.

♥

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?- Aparts from refusing to let you out and not letting you have interaction with anyone but mey-rin,no.

♥

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?- He's not that vulnerable, or atleast he doesn't show it, he's a demon for crying out loud he can EASILY hide and lie about stuff, even if you don't believe him he can put up facades and wont end them till he decides.

♥

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?- Depends really, theres a 15% chance he would react negatively to it, he understands you're going to have outbursts until you get used to your new life, though if he's had a particularly long day his patience will run thin, giving up and snapping at you, though majority of the time he just snickers and chuckles at your attempts.

♥

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?- He finds it amusing the first few times doesn't mean he wont punish you though, he knows you won't be able to escape and if you do he'll find you. He's very knowing of your abilities and always seems to know your next move.

♥

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?- When you tried to escape for the first time and he didn't talk for days, you were tied, bindfolded, had earplugs and gagged, causing you to get desperate and paranoid, the only time you wouldn't be gagged is when he came to feed you and give you something to drink by the end of it you were paranoid and didn't try escaping again for a few months.

♥

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?- Any where you're happy with him, maybe even making a contract with him once his with Ciel's finishes.

♥

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?- Not really, he knows that in the end of almost every possible universe where yous two know eachother you'll end up his.

♥

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?- Calm, collected and understanding, he knows when to stop and what to do, but sometimes he gets alot more affectionate and forces his affection on you.

♥

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?- He would have met you through lady elizabeth when visiting, you were one of her maids/butlers, he would approach you after hours when everyone else was asleep or busy.

♥

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?- When he first met you he would put on a much sweeter facade, dropping it when he abducted you, still he would be sweet just not as much as he forced himself to do before hand.

♥

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?- Psychological punishments or threats.

♥

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?- Freedom and privacy, you don't need either of that anymore after all he's taking care of you now.

♥

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?- his patience only runs thin on stressful days, so normally he's quite patient towards you.

♥

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on- He wont let you, at all.

♥

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?- Nope! He tells you and himself its to protect you (even though its more so his own greed).

♥

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?- Curiousity mixed with greed.]

♥

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?- at first he felt empathy towards you and your situation and would show it by holding you close to him.

♥

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?- Be more understandng and patient.

♥

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?- None :p.

♥

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?- Physically no. Mentally yes.

♥

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?- Sickly sweet compliments before he took you.

♥

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?- It only took him three months before he abducted you.

♥

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?- No he knows your limits and will stop just before he breaks them.

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

"Baba!"

Danny smiled as he toweled his hair dry. He loved hearing his little one yell from the living room of his-now thier- lair.

The circumstances of his conception were irrelevant. He loved his kiddo very much, hence the abundance of photo albums and home videos chalked full of his kid doing random stuff. The one with him in his high chair stuffing cheerios into his mouth is his favorite solely for the fact it caught him trying to stuff them up his nose a few times. Definitely something to show future dates when he's older.

His smile fell when he heard anothers voice. No one should have access to his lair. They were in the Infinite Realms for stars sake.

Rushing out of the bathroom in only his sweatpants he charged into the living room to find it filled with capes. More specifically different (largely in costume) versions of Tim Drake. Uh oh.

How did this happen?

"Baba!" He looked down at thier child who was smiling up at him from the arms of one of the younger Tims, showing off his brand new baby fang and bloody hand. Danny rushed into the kitchen to get some alcohol pads and some bravery badges, walking past the summoning circle he had on his wall and taking note of the tiny bloody handprints near the bottom of it.

Crap. That was meant to summon friends and family into the lair. His little star must have tried summoning his father.

After bandaging his kid up and kissing the area he smiled and said, "all better!" Which earned him a giggle from the one year old and an odd look from the child still holding him.

"Tim?" The vigilante looked startled, but Danny didn't give him a chance to recover, "How about you take the little one into the living room and wait with the others? I need to make myself decent before I come explain things."

The kid looked skeptical but agreed and left in that direction.

Danny made his way to his room, and after chasing out two teenage birds who somehow snuck past him into there, he finally got dressed and chased more out of his toddlers room before making it to the living room.

Feeling a room full of eyes on him he sighed and conjured more couches from the ectoplasm in his lair, ignoring some startled shouts as he sat down.

There were a lot of different Tims here. Three adults all in gear, one good two evil, about seven teens, three in gear while four in civvies. Two of the civilian ones were the boys he had caught snooping in his room for clues.

Lastly there were three boys, two in gear with one in a civilian outfit.

Thats a total of thirteen (13) Tims.

"Okay, to start off id like to apologize on behalf of my son. We didn't mean to summon any of you."

The Robin holding Danny son chimed in, "How did he summon us?"

"Kiddo is too small to properly pronounce things yet. Hence why his calling you "baba" instead of "papa"."

He ignored the surprised sounds and questions and just let that sink in before adding, "To clarify, no. None of you are actually the father."

Danny waited patiently for them to calm down and ignored more questions, "I was with an alternate version of you who turned out to be evil-ish and wanted to eliminate all superpowers from existence or something, a fact I didn't know at the time."

"Anyway, he purposely sabotaged my birth control to get me pregnant knowing I wouldn't abort. He did this knowing that when his plan started to come to fruition I'd be too far along to stop him. He had a counter to everything, even things we never told him about. I ended up having to sever the connection between this place- the Infinite Realms- and my home dimension, trapping him there with no way for him to get out and leaving me with no way to ever see my friends or family again. Questions?"

There were many.

[rottmnt-residuum]

part 25

:)

⇇ | ⇽ | index | ⇾

[morgue-nymph]

what a girl wants is being hogtied in the back of an unmarked van by men in tactical gear with ill intent! 🎀👼🏾

[zu-is-here]

<– • –>

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I had a friend who looked like Drew Gooden, and they went missing one day and it turned out Drew Gooden had abducted him and convinced him to make videos in his place so that the real Drew could just vibe and not work.

[whennoonecares]

Based on what?- NO IDEA! :D

Bodyguard!Cody AU where he's protecting a famous Obi-Wan. A running joke is no one's entirely sure why Obi-Wan's famous, but he gets invited to stuff and gets on with most people and he's pretty, so who cares!

Problem is that- as much as most people like Obi-Wan well enough- there are a select few who REALLY HATE HIM, so he kept getting mugged or kidnapped/abducted.

So his agent or whatever hires Cody to be a personal guard for when he goes out.

But Obi-Wan,, is fine?? Like, any time there's an attacker, he'll try to talk to them, but if they swing, he's swinging back. So more often than not, it's just Cody standing back watching Obi-Wan beat some dude's ass, and occasionally offering aid in the form of calling out improv weapons nearby. Like sure he'll call the local authorities, hold the attacker down once he's out, but rarely does he need to do any defending.

Bonus points of Obi-Wan has a self-defense tool on him, but regularly forgets about it, or loses it, or straight-up elects not to use it because, "Oh this shouldn't take long".

Overall, I think it'd be funny if Obi-Wan just sort of treats Cody like a friend who's tagging along, and not a hired extra set of fists

[angrelysimpping]

Now I have a head canon in which grown up and well off neurosurgeon Whitney meets PC who is not in a very good place at all and tries to help them/repent for his past still denying being in love with them and behaving like a tsun-tsun

Or college age Whitney who wears glasses, studies a lotand kidnapped his girlfriend/pet from their home town and slowly mellows out, and while he still has his mean moments he is far more chill and won't whore PC out anymore and is a bit less mean.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

LOOK

LISTEN

first one, yeah, cute, adorable, sweet, halmark movie maybe

SECOND ONE?????

SECOND ONE?!??!?!?!

(warning for yandere behavior and abduction. implied dubcon too, i think)

Whitney with his reading glasses on, hair band on to keep his fringe outta his eyes while studying. Got those 8am classes that he hates but would never dream of missing. Got those straight 'A's. Hurries home from the uni library to his tiny flat and, there's his slut, collared and chained to his bed. They can move around enough to get to the bathroom and kitchen, trust them enough to leave them alone. But, still, keeps 'em naked and shackled.

Gives 'em a lil kiss to their forehead before putting a hand on their shoulder, almost gently guiding them to their knees but with an unspoken threat of the force he could use.

oh my godddddddd

[banchuuya]

And I wish there was something more than this

Saturated loneliness

[unforgivenn]

Hai a request for writing how about a whumpee that gets washed ashore by the river in a forest and someone finds them ( that someone can be either a whumper or stranger your choice :D )

CW: Isolation, betrayal, minor injuries, panic, desperation, false sense of security, abduction, drugging

Whumpee's figure lay motionless across the riverbank. The currents had carried them, like a fragile leaf in a storm, until finally depositing them gently onto the soft bed of moss and ferns.

The fresh breeze blew gently on their face as their eyes blinked open slightly, trying to figure out just what the fuck happened. They sat up coughing violently. With trembling hands, they clawed at their parched throat, desperate to expel the water that still lingered within.

But it wasn't just the water that sent shivers down their spine. It was the eerie silence that enveloped the forest, broken only by the distant whisper of the river. The usual cacophony of bird songs and rustling leaves was conspicuously absent, as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation.

Whumpee looked down to see the small cuts and bruises on them that had formed during their little swim. They hissed slightly forcing themselves to stand up their survival instinct kicking in.

"H-Help! Someone! Plea-!" They were cut off from their shouting by the spluttering from their dry and hoarse throat that hadn't gotten water for god knows how long.

Whumpee's heart raced as panic surged through their veins like wildfire. The realization of their isolation sank in like a heavy stone, pressing down upon them with suffocating weight. Each labored breath felt like a desperate plea echoing into the void of the silent forest.

Disoriented and vulnerable, they stumbled forward, limbs trembling with exhaustion and fear. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig beneath their feet, sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through their battered body. The forest seemed to close in around them, its towering trees casting sinister shadows that danced mockingly upon the forest floor.

Tears blurred Whumpee's vision as they frantically scanned the treeline, searching for any sign of salvation amidst the oppressive silence. But there was no one—no comforting voice to answer their cries, no friendly face to offer solace in the face of their terror.

And then, just when Whumpee's resolve began to falter, they heard it—the unmistakable sound of footsteps crunching through the undergrowth. Their head snapped behind him to see a person, an actual man.

Whumpee squinted their eyes, blinking them for a while to make sure they weren't hallucinating before they broke down in wracking sobs stumbling over to the figure.

"P-Please" Their voice sounded high-pitched as they gasped for breath between cries.

The man walked towards Whumpee looking down at the younger person. His gaze was calculating, boring into whumpee's tear-filled eyes. Whumpee could feel that they were almost judging them.

Whumpee knew they looked absolutely pathetic on the layer with torn clothes and cuts in a state of broken sobs. But as the man neared, Whumpee's hope turned to horror. The calculating gaze bore into their soul, stripping away the façade of safety. In that moment, they knew—they were not the savior they had prayed for. The injection pierced their skin like a dagger, the venom of betrayal coursing through their veins.

As consciousness slipped away, Whumpee's last sight was the mocking smirk of their assailant, their fate sealed in the darkness that closed in around them.