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eyeless-cunt · 10 months

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(srry if i already asked this- i have shit memory 😀) what are your kidnapping headcannons for yandere ej ? like how would he kidnap the reader , what would the first few days/weeks together be like , and how would he treat the reader ? tysm <3

Interesting thing to think about. Ej is an entirely different monster than any other yandere I write for. If he knows he can't make you fall normally for him...

CW/TW: Yandere Themes, Kidnapping, Drugging, Severe Manipulation and Medical Abuse. Heavy Derealization.

He would kidnap them while they were sleeping, of course. Ej's a cautious and calculated man, and he knows that no matter the method, the fear you experience will be the same. So he finds it kindest to do while you're unable to panic and sadly attempt to fight back. It's a quick but methodical process that he uses to get you home and situated. He'll think about bringing you some harmless objects from your previous home–things he thinks will get you more comfortable here faster. Your blankets, pillows, the clothes he watched you wear more often. The stuffed animal your grandma got you for your graduation years ago and your favorite red pen maybe. But unfortunately they all must be left behind along with any other objects you held close. The reasoning behind this is simple–he wants you to eventually forget about your past life entirely. If even the shirt on your back will help you remember then it has to be burned.

Jack wants to make you forget in the nicest and softest way possible, but memory in a healthy person isn't easily lost, especially if they're unwilling and missing what they had before. He mulls over the idea that he can make you willingly leave it all behind for him. The idea that he'll be so good to you that you never yearn to go back. But he's not stupid. He knows a strange eyeless creature wont win your love. Not after being kidnapped and locked up. Maybe if he didn't have grey skin he would have approached you in public first, trying to win your friendship and affections. But there's no guarantee in forever in that situation, and even if there was it simply wasn't possible. You can't hide sockets like these without a mask. Even with normal unmarked skin.

There are no doubts in his mind that you'll be terrified and confused when you wake up to find yourself in a small room with no windows or visible exits. So Jack does what he knows he's good at. Putting people to sleep. He continually uses a low dosage of the substance he concocted himself to keep you sleeping and unaware. As it works it's way through your body safely he thanks his millennia of bored research and testing. He had been planning to take you for a few years now, and so by the time he was ready to finally retrieve you he already had everything he needed for your stay. Of course by the end of his meddling in your head you may not remember the use of half the items he collected for you, but relearning wasn't going to be hard.

Your first few weeks will be spent drifting in and out of consciousness. He wants to make this process as quick and easy as possible. Jack spends this time mulling over all the small details in his carefully crafted plan. It may be a bit late now, but it's better than forgetting to iron out the smallest detail and having to deal with the repercussions when it's already far too late.

When he's finally ready for your eyes to open you'll be in a room that he's laid out to look like the average human hospital. The more believable his original lie is the easier time he'll have molding you into what he needs. Of course he understands how cruel he is. How devastating this loss will be for everyone who knew you and how you'll mourn their loss for years if he messes this up. But he won't mess up. He won't drop the ball on something this important. And when you awake to a tall man covered head to toe in white you'll be confused yes, but he can pretend to be a doctor well enough to ease the panic in your eyes.

He can tell you that you were in an accident. That you lost your memories and made up new ones to deal with the trauma. He can make up useless and random medical jargon for long enough that you just zone out as you cope with the loss of what you now can't tell are your real memories or not. Jack will tell you he knows they seem so real, he understands what you're going through, he has patients like you all the time. And he'll "prove" to you that these people in your memories don't exist. He'll even help you try to regain your 'real ones'. Enrolling you in 'therapy' and avoiding the question of, "Why does everyone I meet wear a mask," with, "Pardon? That's a question I'm unsure of how to answer. Perhaps speak with your therapist about the topic."

So you agree to speak with a therapist. You agree to weekly sessions and you agree to everything that your strange doctor suggests to you. If you can't agree you'll simply scream. You have no idea what's going on but at the very least you understand that you're insane. What person just makes up a whole other world in their head? When the reality is you belong to a different one. One that seems to have a much...smaller population. A world where everyone wears masks. You don't understand how you could have conjured up a world that's so completely different. There are so little similarities between the two. You couldn't believe it, even when everything he said made some sort of sense. Even when he showed you proof. It was unbelievable and unbearable.

Where are the fast food places, the internet, the cars and tvs? At most you've seen three people outside this room at any given time and you only leave this room a few times a day to go to the bathroom. The people in the halls don't move much or talk to you at all. You're afraid that if you tried to speak to them they'd... well you're not sure what they'd do. You don't know anything anymore. You don't understand how you made so many things that don't exist up in your head. Any hard questions you ask the doctor get unanswered with a simple, "Pardon?" And a few more words that all typically involve the idea of a therapist.

A therapist. So you didn't make those up. You didn't make up doctors. The trip to the office isn't far at all. In fact it seems to be in the same building. Your strange doctor and two very odd looking people in white coats with plain white masks led you there in a wheelchair. You're perfectly capable of walking but he insisted. Did you make up windows? There are none here. No sunlight. It's cold. "Do you know what the sun is?" You don't know who you're asking but the doctor responds anyways.

"Yes." That was a first. "It exists?" That question hangs in the air as he opens a wooden door, pushing you into a warmly lit room. Is this your life now? Weekly visits to a therapist because you're crazy? You didn't have any family or friends? Not even people you knew? Why hasn't anyone visited you?

"Just take a seat. He'll be out shortly." You can only stare, your body seemingly moving at a different time than everyone else here. You looked different–no mask. The only similarity was your clothes. What was really going on? Were you really just crazy? Was it that simple?

The door you entered from opened again, a man dressed similarly to the door but in brown tones walking in. His mask was plain. Simple. Just a flat black. Why couldn't you seem to ever find eyes behind these masks? Even the doctor's white mask should yeild some space, enough to see what lays behind, right?

"May I sit?" You nod, swallowing as he takes a seat on the other side of the table across from you. He asks you simple starter guestions, like how you're doing and settling in here since you've woken up

"I don't know if I'm fine. Or settling in here. I don't know what here is. I'm sorry, I can't answer any of these questions." Saying it out loud brings tears to your eyes, the emotions you're feeling bubbling to the surface too quickly to process.

"I understand. This must be very hard. I hope you don't mind, but your doctor gave me some notes on your condition. Is it still true that you don't remember your life here?" You nod. "I understand. And...is it true that you have memories of a different life? One that didn't actually happen?" Shaky now, you nod again. Cotton in your mouth prevents you from speaking.

"Okay. What's your name? Is it the same in both "worlds"?" I shake my head. "No. My name here was my middle name there." He nods, humming as he scribbles down something you can't make out.

"Do you think maybe that was the 'you' in that world trying to remember the real you? The you that is here now? Maybe you were giving yourself reminders. Or it was perhaps just your subconscious remembering. The same way someone you know will show up in your dreams?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Okay. Tell me more about this world you dreamt of. How similar or different was it from this one?" You didn't even know where to start. You told him about things you liked to do for fun, your family and friends, the music you listened to and how it was nothing like the world you lived in now. How this one was... depressing. Bleak.

"That does sound incredibly different. I think what happened was also a stress response. What I'm reading from your files is that you have no family here. I'm not sure about friends but I'm sure when you get home you'll find some mail from any friends or partners that might be worrrying about you. Maybe you felt depressed having no family to speak of, and so your body took the coma as a chance to make one. It's a strong possiblity."

"Home? Where do I live?" You didn't even think of that yet. What was outside this hospital? What friends would be sending mail to me? Partner?

"The address is listed here in your file, although you won't know where this is. Would you like to look? Might jog some memories." You looked. Nothing came up. It was just...numbers. They made no sense to you.

"It was worth a try. This session is over in five minutes. I have something for you before you go though." This grabs your attention.

A box. "Here you are. Go on and open it. They retrieved this from your house." You opened it, excited to finally see something that belonged to you in this strange world. Ah. A mask. A simple...black mask.

"It's quite strange to see someone without one here. I was quite taken aback upon meeting you, but I understand you've relearned cultures from a different sort of 'world'. Here, in this place it's extremely uncommon to see a person without one in public. Typically the only people who see your face are your immediate family and your life partner. You've shown many people your face since being here, so your potential partner at home may be a bit upset if you come home without one." That last part was said as a joke, but you found more questions in it. Did you have a 'life partner'? Was that marriage?

"Go on, see if it feels familiar. It wouldn't be a good idea to travel now without it on."

The inside of the mask is cold. It feels lifeless. Was this how your life was? Is that why you had to create a happier one? Now as you sat with it's loss, you wished you had never dreamt it up in the first place.