#kidnapping mention tw

[soulrph]

the receiver has recently been kidnapped and held captive by enemies of the sender. send in “ i told you i’d find you... “ for the sender, having spent every minute since the abduction searching for them, to reunite with the receiver after defeating the bad guys. ( OR: if the sender wouldn’t say this, send in “LOST” and whatever they might actually say in that situation! so for example: “LOST + “come on, let’s go home.” )

alternatively, send in “ i knew you’d find me... “ for the sender to have been kidnapped by the receiver’s enemies, and for the receiver to reunite with them after defeating the bad guys. ( OR: if the sender wouldn’t say this, send in “FOUND” and whatever they might say in that situation! for example: “FOUND + “it’s about time!” )

#rp meme #roleplay meme #rp prompt #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #roleplay prompt #writing prompts #writing prompt #dialogue prompt #dialogue prompts #kidnapping tw #kidnapping mention tw

[wvsteria]

@tragcdysewn: 🎵 + 77 mouse and feyre

"i can't fight my fear." it'd been another run in with this woman, who mouse was sure at this point was stalking her. the way she'd handled things with steve didn't go great, so now they were trying a different approach. "i couldn't before. my parents instilled it in me and it took forever to grow out of it. but whatever happened... you can't let it take over your life. i'm sorry your kid went missing. and i'm sorry i helped in hiding the pain from that. but you can't run from it anymore."

lovely - billie eilish, khalid

#hw: spotify #hw.mousehonrada #& feyre archeron #tragcdysewn #kidnapping mention tw #ptsd tw

[nostomannia]

I ranted about this in a voice call earlier but I think I should put it into writing here, as well as some extra thoughts.

Have you guys ever thought about how we can kinda start to woobify abuse victims? Or at the very least like. Not give them agency or even actively take away their agency? I've had that happen before with Solita and it bugs me.

Deity is her abuser. But they're her parent. Her best friend. Her most hated enemy. Her purpose and her downfall. You can't just take them away without even consulting her about it. Or on the flipside, take her away. It's like if you took away someone from their abusive S/O or parent by force, without verbalizing and convincing them that 'hey, this person is horrible.'

Solita NEEDS the agency to walk away from Deity. If she doesn't, she falls back into a cycle of toxic dependency on someone else at BEST. At worst, when her ties are cut from Deity, she will flat out end her own life.

I understand the sentiment of wanting to save someone from an abuser. That's an entirely natural reaction. But if the person doesn't understand, or believes that they deserve better, where's the closure? That's not a satisfying end, is it?

Solita will actively place herself in the way of any attempt someone may try to rid her of Deity, so it's not like she's gonna stand by and watch. SHE'S the roadblock every single step of the way. Going behind her back is only going to break a relationship or plainly just break her.

Easy solutions sometimes make the situation worse. Taking someone from an abuser, no matter how right morally it is, can still just be kidnapping.

#Fawn Speaks || OOC #kidnapping mention tw #abuse mention tw #abuse tw #trigger warnings may apply #suicide mention tw #i feel like with abuse victims its either uwu go ahead and forgive your abuser or #lemmie just get the abuser out of the picture FOR you #but theres still nuiance to explore #and i feel like a lot of people tend to write characters after the trauma of abuse #and ithink its because it can be difficult for both parties to navigate around that #theres nothing wrong with doing it that way #but for me- i want to explore how a relationship is navigated in spite of it

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

I got a request for a audio, a situation where listener and Doll are watching a documentary about kidnapped children of London, and then Doll be like " That's fake, We haven't even got that many children" An listener be like "excuse me, What?!?!" XD something like that hehehe

I'm assuming this is for the Terms of Service AU, DELICIOUSLY DEVIOUS!!

enjooooy~

do you dare open the app after your companion crashed it while watching this documentary...?

sound effects from https://freesfx.co.uk/

(in addition to Freckles' voice, I also improv'd and voiced the fake documentary narration!)

transcript below the cut!

AUDIO START

[KUROSHITSUJI app start: ascending bubble tone, chimes, and a cute female voice saying “Kuroshitsuji!”]

“’Ey! Whatcha watchin’? Oh… documen’ary? Oh, that’s like… that’s like a show… like, based on… real stuff, innit? Wot’s it ‘bout? Oh, okay, watch with y’. Sure.”

(female documentary narrator on TV) “The Victorian era in England was a time of great culture and innovation.”

“Ohhhhh…!”

(female documentary narrator on TV) “However, this period was also not without its own unique problems.”

“So it’s about the Victorian era. Hm…”

(female documentary narrator on TV) “Many of the Victorian era’s flaws stemmed from social issues. Although the statistics are a bit murky… it’s estimated that in the later years of the Victorian era, at least 500 children had gone missing.”

“Wh… ‘uh? ‘Undreds?? C’mon! Oh, ain’t no way. We didn’t take that many.”

(female documentary narrator on TV) “Many of them were the victims of kidnapping, human trafficking, and murder.”

“Uh… ah… I mea… ah…”

(chuckles nervously)

“Sorry, I… I don’t know why I said that. I dunno wot I’m talkin’ ‘bout… uh…”

(female documentary narrator on TV) “An unfortunate black mark on London’s history…”

“Wot the… ah…”

(female documentary narrator on TV) “… The sad truth is that many of these disappearances were never resolved.”

“Uh! Sorry, um… y-y’ mind if we watch somethin’ else? I dunno… this one’s… kinda disturbin’, don’t y’ think? Ah…”

(female documentary narrator on TV) “There are speculations that, in the later years, some of the kidnappings may have had something to do with a local circus.”

“Mnh…”

[KUROSHITSUJI app voice: “KUROSHITSUJI app crashed. Fatal error.”]

(female documentary narrator on TV) “While these claims are mostly unfounded, there is some evidence to suggest…”

END AUDIO

#kidnapping mention tw #human trafficking mention tw #Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Doll/Freckles #audio #romantic #platonic #drama #idk does this count as horror???? I'm not sure based on Doll's reaction alone #tho the implication that your A.I. companion might have once been a real person with involvement in child kidnappings is... deffo horrific #sooooo XD #anyway I think this came out really good!!! #it's always a lot of work and editing to do two voices in one audio and one reacting to the other/reacting to each other #but it absolutely always pays off so I'm really proud of this one!! #one hell of a queue

[brandstifter-sys]

Rites of Spring

For @dukexietyweek​ Day 3: Mythology                    (Ao3)(login required)

Word Count: 1203

Rating: T

Characters: Remus, Roman, Virgil, Patton (mentioned)

Warnings: deception, talk of kidnapping

When the god of the Underworld asked the King of the gods to send him a fiance, it looks as if Roman is in for some trouble. Fortunately his twin is more than willing to disguise himself so he can have that edgy snack all to himself. Based off the myth of Hades and Persephone.

---

Remus was not nearly as dumb as the other gods thought he was. He knew that they hated him and wanted him to leave the mountain. Well, Janus still wanted him there, but that was it. He would be happy to leave and never come back. He just needed a good opportunity. And Patton unwittingly provided the perfect opportunity. 

"I don't care if he is the king of the gods!" Roman groaned from his chaise lounge, "I refuse to marry a complete stick in the mud!" High in the clouds, he was far too comfortable to look down and admire his springtime creations. His twin was on the edge doing that for him.

"What if I take your place?" Remus suggested calmly. Too calmly. 

"Why? You would be trapped in the underworld with the dead and the second most boring god in existence. That's no life for a god of spring!" 

"Didn't you say that there only needs to be one? Or did you just want to get rid of me yourself?" Remus jeered and flicked his wrist, sending his blessing to the fungi on the ground. 

"I–uh—" Roman stammered, "What's the catch?" 

"You have to lend me one of your robes and you might not get it back. He's expecting you after all. King Daddykins wouldn't dare send his little storm cloud less than the best."

"I'll have a robe ready for you."

.

.

Remus was ecstatic the second his feet touched the ground. He could feel the earth's life crawling up his legs and he was ready to trick the god of the underworld into becoming his husband. He just had to act like Roman for long enough. 

He frolicked through the forest clearing, humming and singing softly to all of Roman's creations. He didn't sing too much, lest he cause his own creations to rot them. 

"Hey," a low, gentle voice greeted him from behind. Remus made sure his glamor was up and spun around with a bright smile and a flair for the dramatic. 

Virgil was leaning against the wall of a cave, rubbing his arm and not looking at Remus. He was so pretty with his violet hair in his face and his flowing dark robes. Remus had to fight the urge to tackle that cute edgelord and take him right there, right then.

"Greetings, Virgil!" Remus said, doing his best impression of his twin, "You look ravishing today!" 

Virgil lifted his head and eyed him suspiciously. Did he know? No, he couldn't know!

"Look, I know Pat sent you as a forced fiance, you don't have to pretend to be happy about it," Virgil said flatly, "I'm not going to force you to marry me or whatever." 

Remus deflated. 

"So you don't want to get married?" he asked, "Like at all?" 

"Not to you, Ro, and I know you have your eye on the god of sleep. So uh, if you want to hang out, I'm cool with that, but you don’t have to stick around." 

Right, he was pretending to be Roman. He didn't just reject Remus. There was still hope! 

"I would love to!" Remus grinned and clapped his hands together, "But you have to let me see your dog!" 

Virgil actually smiled at him. Remus swore his heart skipped a beat. He didn't know if he could keep pretending to be Roman much longer. 

Virgil led him into the cave and down a winding set of stairs. It was dark and dank and gloomy, and Remus absolutely loved it. 

When they reached the bottom, Remus was in awe of the place. There was a wide river leading to a large gate and beyond the gate there were assorted fruit trees and fungi. Remus recognized those trees as his. Those were his babies! And Virgil kept all of them and cared for them! 

Virgil didn't seem to notice that Remus was internally swooning. He just led him through a small network of caverns and into a large room with a couple couches, a table with a basket of fruit, and a desk loaded with paperwork. 

But the large, black, three-headed dog that took up one of the couches made Remus gasp. She was sleeping and snoring and running in her dreams. 

"You can get comfy. Just don't eat anything," Virgil said and sat on his desk, away from the paperwork. 

"Why not? The pomegranates look simply delicious," Remus pouted and sat down. 

"They'll bind you to this place. You'd have to move in. And you don't want that," Virgil said flatly. 

"Perhaps not," Remus mused, still keeping up his guise, "If that's the case, why present me with such temptation?" 

"I need to eat. And maybe I was hoping Pat would send someone else," Virgil admitted. 

Now that got Remus' attention. 

"Who were you hoping to lure and entrap here?" 

"I wasn't going to lure and trap anyone," Virgil bristled, "I wouldn't try to trap anyone here if I didn't have to." His eyes were glowing purple and a darkness whipped around behind him.

"Pardon my wording," Remus said as Roman, fighting back the arousal pooling in his core, "Who did you want to come instead of me? And what makes them so much more desirable?" 

"Uh," Virgil winced and rubbed his neck, "Remus. And I think part of it is that he brings life from death, he doesn’t just end a season of slumber. With my job, that’s more beautiful than anything, no offense.”

“None taken,” Remus hummed and smirked at him. Since he was pretending to be his brother, it wasn’t out of place, “But there has to be more than that!” 

“He's always happy to see me, and he goes out of his way to make me feel welcome and remembered." 

"I see." 

"He might be wily and loud, but he's sweet and caring and beautiful. He makes me happy." 

Remus didn't even think when he grabbed the split pomegranate and clawed into the mass of seeds. 

"What the fuck!? Spit that out!" Virgil yelped and jumped from the desk. Remus shoved half of the seeds down his gullet. 

"What did I just tell you?" Virgil groaned. 

Remus giggled and let his disguise fade away. 

"That you want me and not Roman, and I could stay if I ate the fruit! And to think I thought I'd have to trick you into being mine!" 

Virgil scowled and pinned Remus' wrists on his lap. Remus could easily escape and fight him if he wanted to, but Virgil was hot when he was pissed! 

"Why would you want that?" 

"Because you're the only one who makes me feel wanted and welcome and I love you. I would do anything just to have you, even if it means you're angry and I get tortured!" Remus answered with a shimmy. 

"I'll torture you later," Virgil huffed and kissed him roughly. Remus freed his hands and grabbed Virgil's head, pulling him for more. 

"Make the pain pleasurable and you can torture me for eternity," Remus mumbled against his lips. 

"Eternity isn't long enough for me to spend with you," Virgil replied and let Remus drag him onto the couch to kiss him again. Neither one could be happier.

#dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #dukexietyweek2023 #day 3 #god au #kidnapping mention tw

[devilsmenu]

@hiddenpxpercuts - Jamie & Max continued from here because beta editor

"No, no, I'm not talking about my family, they were good people" mayhaps she wasn't the good one at all. "Is just... There was this doctor that kidnapped me and other kids, he ran a lot of tests to us" she explained to the other with a sigh. "It's a relief to be away from Hawkins".

#hiddenpxpercuts #feat max #ch: jamie #kidnapping mention tw

[connor-a-reilly]

Connor felt bad for Xichen and the venting he was about to witness, but the young man couldn't hold it in any longer. "Are the crazy violent stories about this place real? Cause if so, I would love for once in my life to be either kidnapped or dragged to a world that isn't out to kill everyone. You know, just once, that would be great." He says with a heavy sigh as he wipes his brow before folding his arms again. @coreofgold

#closed starter - xichen #violence mention tw #kidnapping mention tw #death mention tw

[honeybumpkins]

BanBan

Species: it is unknown exactly what he is supposed to be

Main coloring: Red

Notable characteristics: Wide Smile, yellow eyes with small pupils, stubby horns, bowtie, fluff.

Givanium Damage: drippy face, drippy smile, missing eye with damaged socket that sunk inwards, hand material completely melted off with exposed endo claws and touch sensors permanently damaged. Damage to the back of his head.

Notes: no one liked him, not even the kids. He is the smartest of the mascots still roaming the kindergarten. BanBan is the direct catalyst for basically this whole rewrite’s story, he directly caused the givanium meltdown, he is the guy behind the whole hunting human hearts thing, and he was the reason MC came back to the kindergarten(because he was kidnapping and killing innocent people). He has the least amount of givanium damage. Just like the other mascots, he is in constant burning pain because of his touch/feeling sensors going haywire.

BanBan is just as aggressive as anyone else, and even though he’d be assumed to be more friendly with his fellow mascots(due to his ringleader type role), he actually has a strong willingness to kill any of them if it’s for his own gain. For example, when BanBaleena tries to get a heart before he can, he rips her apart. He actually seems to be very in denial about his status as a monster, and he’s unwilling to admit it to himself, forcing blame for all of his actions onto MC and the other(now dead) employees. When he is confronted with this, he is prone to outbursts.

#garten of banban rewrite #garten of banban #banban design #BanBan #I am very Bad at drawing claws #kidnapping mention tw #murder mention tw

[forafcrtnight]

"DUDE, THAT'S INSANE. SO.. YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT THERE'S A LADY LOCKED UP IN YOUR BASEMENT, that your new foster dad is also her dad and that he's the one keeping her there and that he also has some death vendetta against your dad and your.. uncle? WOAH." he hadn't seen gideon in quite some time and now that they were catching up.. well, that was insane. and here he was, thinking that his life was the crazy one but apparently, he had been wrong. huh. "that's wicked, man. hey, if the engineering thing doesn't work out, you could always go into the horror film business or something. that'd make up for one hell of a story." @xtinyslip

#ethan ; talks. #ethan ; gideon k. #sooooo i was thinking that maybe they could be besties or even former foster siblings or something? :L #death mention tw #kidnapping mention tw

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 22 - Modern Brumaria

This is probably the future of the Soldier Boy AU, or any other universe with gang!Kamaria. Also it's much longer than my other Whumptober fills because I'd already been working on it before Whumptober. Bruno belongs to Izzy and is used with her blessing!

Taglist: @painful-pooch , @sssunshinebreeze

Masterlist

No. 22: Vehicular Accident

Contains: lady whump, broken bones, dislocation, mild gore, head injury, referenced panic attack, referenced trauma, hospital mention, kidnapping mention, delirium, whipping mention, romance

.

.

This day has completely sucked. Well, it started out normally enough, but then she’d been triggered in the grocery store of all places when she saw a bald white man who reminded her of Roderick. And trying to hold the panic inside because she was in public just made the fallout ten times worse when she finally gave in. Always does, as Bruno likes to point out. Never stops her, though, she’s too stubborn for her own good - another bit of Bruno wisdom that he needs to turn on himself.

He and Shadi have tried their best to make the rest of the afternoon not suck, they really have. But come evening, Kamaria is still feeling off. She needs air. She needs to just not think for a while, which is what she tells her husband as she slips into her leather jacket and boots and straps her knife to her hip. 

“Be careful, love.” He kisses her forehead, then her cheek, concern etched into his handsome features. “And call if you need anything.”

“I will.” She’s not sure who looks more pitiful, Bruno or Shadi, as they watch her reach for the door. She gives one a smile and one a scratch behind the ear, then heads to the garage. 

The rumble of her bike underneath her automatically eases a little of the tension in her shoulders. Driving it far too fast, zipping around curves and past cars with the landscape flying by in too much of a blur to decipher, is even better. All of her concentration has to go into handling the bike. She doesn’t have any time to think about anything else. 

Once she’s way out of town and her mind isn’t so much of a swirling mess, she slows down and sits up straighter, raising her visor so that the wind can hit her skin. It’s nearing dark, and the roads out here are practically empty. Her thoughts slowly move back toward the grocery store, to Roderick and the feeling of being caught doing something she shouldn’t be that had overwhelmed her in that moment, but it doesn’t bring the same buzzing sensation beneath her skin as earlier. 

What would the real Roderick actually think, if he could see her living this life, going out and buying groceries whenever she needs them instead of living off of stolen goods, peaceful and happy with a husband and two dogs and a house of their own and absolutely no one to punish them for their mistakes?

He’d hate it, that’s for sure. But he’s not around anymore, so what he thinks doesn’t matter.

She’s getting closer to being ready to go back home, but before she’s made up her mind to actually turn around, a rumble of thunder sounds above the motorcycle‘s engine. Kamaria glances up at the sky. While she was lost in thought, dark clouds had rolled in, looming heavily overhead. 

Guess that’s my cue.

Checking for oncoming traffic, she U-turns and starts back toward home, picking up her speed just a bit. Fat drops of rain plop loudly onto her helmet. Within seconds, they’ve turned smaller and more and more frequent, until she’s being pelted in the face and has to use one hand to slam her visor back shut. The road is already soaked, so she keeps her pace around the speed limit. 

A few minutes into the trip, headlights are reflecting in her mirrors. They’re too bright to see what kind of car it is, but whoever’s driving is clearly impatient, coming up close behind her and hovering. Kamaria just rolls her eyes and resists the urge to slow down even more. There’s no one else anywhere around, just the two of them, the wet road, and the trees, so it’s not like they can’t pass her if they’re that desperate. 

Which they do, though not before tailing her long enough to make sure she understands their aggravation. Engine revving, the car pulls into the oncoming lane and comes flying by. She doesn’t even have time to react to slow down and let them get back into the lane. Just before they’ve fully passed her, they swerve back over, clipping the front of her bike with their back bumper. 

Her front wheel immediately dives to the side. She jerks the handlebars hard back into place, but there’s not enough traction on the slippery road. In the blink of an eye she’s spinning out, careening toward the edge of the road and the trees. 

The motorcycle tips as it reaches the grass. Her leg hits the ground first, pinned underneath the body of the bike, followed swiftly by the rest of her, head rattling inside her helmet as it slams into the pavement. That’s not the end of it, though. The bike is falling, dragging her with it, off the side of the road and down the steep embankment. It slams into a tree and she finally tumbles free from it, but by then it’s too late. She can’t stop. She’s rolling, violently, hitting trees, flipping, and rolling some more, everything a blur of brown and green and pain. Somewhere along the way she loses her helmet. 

By the time she comes to a stop, she’s lost consciousness, as well.

…

It’s unclear how much time has passed when she wakes. She’s barely even aware that she was unconscious at all, only that she opens her eyes to a dark canopy of trees overhead and rain dripping in her face. Wincing and blinking it away, she tries to turn her head to the side and is met with blinding pain shooting streaks of lightning through her vision. 

It takes a moment before she can see straight and breathe again. Moving very, very slowly this time, she cranes her neck to look back up the hill toward the road…the road that isn’t in sight at all. She fell a long way. She can’t see her bike, either, so she can only hope that it’s somewhere up top, still visible to passersby. 

Coaxing the arm that hurts the least into motion, she fumbles for her pocket. Empty. No phone, of course, that would make this far too easy. 

Okay, she needs to take stock of her body. Obviously her head is in bad shape, she probably hit it on a tree after losing her helmet. With the same hand, she reaches up and gently prods a wet, sticky patch on the back of her skull, gritting her teeth at the pain that responds. 

The arm she’s using is in a familiar bit of pain, itself, though it takes more thought than it should to pinpoint why. Dislocated shoulder. Of course, that was to be expected. Her shoulders have been dislocated so many times in her life that it takes very little to do it again. The other arm is worse, though, it feels broken. With a bit of support from the dislocated left arm, she picks up the right so that she can see it, holding her breath against the pain. 

Oh. Yep, that’s definitely broken. In a bloody, something is sticking out through her jacket sleeve kind of way. Right. She carefully sets it back down. There’s nothing she can do about it right now. 

Her left hip hurts, too, where she landed on it when the bike tipped, but she doesn’t bother trying to move it or look at it. As far as she can tell, those few things are the worst. Everything else on her hurts, but it feels like scrapes and bruises, not broken bones. 

It’s been a really long time since she was in this amount of pain. She isn’t used to it anymore. But that doesn’t really matter, does it? Not when she’s stuck in the bottom of a gulley with no phone and no one who knows where to find her. She highly doubts that the car stuck around to call for help. She needs to pull herself out of this situation, just like the old days, which means she’s going to have to embrace the pain again. 

Slowly, though. This is one of the worst head injuries she’s ever had, and if she gets too eager she’ll just knock herself back out. 

Inch by inch, Kamaria pushes herself up onto her left hand and the unbroken part of her right arm, stopping to breathe through her teeth and let the forest swirl around her after every movement. With one last heave, she’s sitting upright, clutching the sides of her head and squeezing her eyes shut. 

Halfway there. Now she just needs to stand. 

Her right leg seems to be in fairly decent shape - minus the long, bloody scrape she can now see on her thigh that tore right through her jeans - so she puts most of her weight onto it. She’s trying to move slowly, but it’s leaving her in awkward positions and she keeps almost losing her balance. Part of her wants to give up and collapse. Somehow, though, with the support of a nearby tree, she fights through the dizziness and pain and makes it to her feet. 

It’s a really, really long way up to the road.

Her first step onto her left leg is nearly her only step. Fire shoots through her hip, she instinctively jerks in response, and her vision fills with lightning again. But she manages to fall into the tree trunk and stay upright, clinging desperately and gritting her teeth until the worst of it passes.

She has to do this. No one is coming to help her. Not because there’s no one who cares, not anymore, but Bruno won’t have any idea where to find her once he realizes that something is wrong. It’s all up to her.

With that in mind, she pushes onward, keeping her weight off a hip that’s likely broken as much as she can, and grabbing onto branches and trunks whenever they’re available to pull herself along. They aren’t available nearly as often as she needs. 

But she’s dealt with worse than this before, right? She can’t think of any specific examples at the moment, but that’s probably just the concussion messing with her. There was the stabbing incident. That didn’t involve broken bones or head injuries, but it did involve a lot of blood loss and trying to get back to base without passing out. She survived that, she can survive this, too. She has to. Back then, all the incentive she had for making it was continuing her path of revenge. Now she has a husband, a home, a real life and someone who loves her and needs her as much as she does him. She can’t let him down. 

Each step is agony. Her vision cuts in and out, her whole body throbbing. She has no idea how far she’s actually made it, only that it seems like the road should be much, much closer by now than it actually is. It doesn’t look like it’s gotten any closer at all. Maybe that’s just the rain pouring down her face messing with her perception, though. 

She takes another step, reaches for a branch hanging just in front of her. It’s farther than it looks, though. Her fingers just brush the leaves as her foot slips on the mud and wet brush beneath her, and suddenly she’s falling. 

She feels every bit of pain when her body hits the ground, but she’s unconscious before she has the chance to scream.

…

She’s been gone too long. 

Bruno tries to give her the space she needs on days like this, he really does, which is why he didn’t protest her going out on her own or start worrying too much when the rain began. Even when the rain kept pouring and there was still no sign of her, he reasoned that she must have found someplace to stop and wait it out. 

But she didn’t call. Didn’t text. And when he finally gave in and texted her, checking in just to make sure she was alright, she didn’t answer. Never even opened the text, in fact. 

Which would make sense if she had given up on waiting out the rain and happened to be riding at the time. But she still didn’t come home. 

Bruno looks over at Dante, who’s watching him pace the house with growing concern, and punches her name on his phone screen. There’s silence in the speaker for a couple of seconds, then the generic voicemail message that Kamaria never bothers to change drones to life. 

He pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it. Her phone is off. Why would her phone be off? Even when they need alone time, they always keep themselves available, knowing their spouse will respect their needs unless it’s an emergency. It doesn’t make sense for her to have turned her phone off. 

Something is wrong. 

Without delaying any further, Bruno snatches his jacket from the closet and goes to his own motorcycle in the garage. He has no idea where Kamaria went on her ride. Just from their house there are two choices of directions to go, and from there it branches off into infinite possibilities. 

But he doesn’t care. He’s going to find her. 

…

Kamaria drifts in and out of consciousness. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows she needs to get up and move, but she can’t really remember why. Everything hurts. She doesn’t want to move, she just wants to keep lying here until maybe the pain gets a little more bearable. 

So she lets herself burrow back into the darkness. When she wakes again, she’s struck with a sudden sense of urgency. She can’t just lie here. She has to get up, her father will be waiting on her to return. He doesn’t care about missions gone wrong, he just cares about obeying orders to perfection, and she’s already late. She’ll get whipped for this. Ten lashes for each hour she was missing. How many hours has it already been? She has to get up, she has to make it back. 

She tries to move, and passes out in a wave of pain through her skull.

The next time that she finds herself staring up at the canopy of trees, she has no idea where she is or how she got there. She’s wet, and she hurts. Must have been Roderick again. He probably beat and waterboarded her. She can’t remember what it was she did wrong this time, but chances are it doesn’t matter, anyway. Their ideas of punishable offenses are usually things she can’t avoid no matter how hard she tries. 

Her last thought before losing consciousness again is, I want Bruno.

…

As he rides, Bruno calls the local hospital and police station, just in case. No one has seen or heard anything about a black woman with green eyes and a large scar across her face named Kamaria Stenberg. 

He goes from fretting that she may have gotten into a wreck to wondering if somehow she’s been taken again. Kane shouldn’t have any way to get to her, right? And none of his cronies should have a reason to want to take her, they were just following orders the first time. Then again, maybe one of them is holding a grudge, or enjoyed having her in their clutches a little too much. Or maybe it’s someone from her old life, animosity among gang members dies hard and there were plenty of people back then that wanted to get their hands on her. Yeah, they’ve moved states to get away from all of that, but that doesn’t mean anything. If someone really wanted to track her down, they could.

He’s sick to his stomach, thinking of all the possibilities as he forges on through the pounding rain. It’s been hours. Her phone is still going straight to voicemail. The two-lane stretch of road he’s currently riding is one he knows she frequents, but he’s gone all the way down it without any more sign of her than any other street he’s been on. He turns at the end, riding around a few more blocks with his heart in his throat before heading back up that same road, back toward town.

There’s a skidmark on this side. He’d noticed it out of the corner of his eye coming past the first time, but it’s not like they’re uncommon. This time he pays more attention, though, slowing down as he reaches it. It, because there’s only one. Not two, like a car, but one single mark. Like from a motorcycle. 

Bruno pulls over quickly, punching the button for his hazard lights, and tugs off his helmet as he climbs off the bike. Running over to the mark, he follows its trajectory with his eyes first, then his feet. It’s probably nothing. He’s trying not to get his hopes up and also fighting back dread at the same time. 

But then he stands with the toes of his boots hanging off the edge of the pavement and looks down the embankment, and he sees the large rivet that something left behind as it skidded through the mud. He sees bark missing off the bottom of a large tree trunk, like something smashed into it at top speed. 

He’s moving again almost before his mind has caught on, slipping and sliding to the tree line. He wants it to be her as desperately as he wishes that it’s not. Then he sees it, just a couple of yards past the first smashed tree - a motorcycle, lying on its side. He doesn’t have to see it up close to know it’s hers. But he goes over anyway, as fast as the uneven terrain will let him, eyes darting around the area. 

She’s not there. It’s her bike, like he knew it was, and it’s scratched and dented from its fall, but there’s no Kamaria to be seen. No sign that she was ever even there.

Could she have gotten up, walked away from a crash like this? But then he would have passed her on the way somewhere, right? And he’s already confirmed she hasn’t been to the hospital. 

Or maybe his second fear was correct. Maybe a wreck was just the start of it, just the method someone used to grab her, and that’s why she’s not here now. 

Fingers buried in his hair and chest heaving, he takes a few steps back and looks around wildly. “Kamaria!” His voice echoes through the trees, down into the hollow below. “Kamaria!”

…

Someone’s calling her name. It must be her mom. She’s really, really tired, she must have stayed out too late again, playing in the creek in the woods behind their house. She didn’t mean to make her mom worry.

“Coming, Mama,” she mumbles, trying to find the energy to get up. Her head hurts really bad. She doesn’t remember why. Mama will make it better, though, she always does. She’ll probably give her some of the pink medicine that’s supposed to taste like cotton candy, and plenty of kisses. 

Kamaria is about to fall back asleep, thinking of her mom’s kisses, when another noise jolts her back awake. Leaves are crunching and branches shaking somewhere above her, like someone or something is sliding down the hill toward her. Automatically her hand moves to grope for a knife at her hip, but comes away empty. She tries the other side - nothing there, either. Maybe there’s one in her boot, but she can’t make her body bend to check. Why is she out on a mission without all of her knives? If she was stupid enough to lose them all, and even her gun, then she deserves for whoever or whatever this is to get her. 

“Kamaria? Kamaria!”

She still doesn’t know who it is until his face appears above her, fear carved into his handsome features. “Bruno,” she breathes, a smile spreading across her face. “What’re…you doing…here?”

“Looking for you.” His hands cup her cheeks, and wow, they’re so warm. He needs to keep doing that. She didn’t know how cold her face was before now. “You’re gonna be okay now. I’m gonna get you help.”

She hums a little as he pulls his phone from his pocket and punches buttons with his thumb. “Better not…let my mom see you. She says…she says ‘m not allowed t’ have…t’ have a boyfriend. ‘Til I’m thirty.”

He holds the phone up to his ear, looking down at her with a strange look on his face that she doesn’t quite get. “Wait until she hears I married you.”

He starts talking to someone on the phone and it’s a lot for her to follow, so she just stares up at the trees and enjoys the one hand that’s still on her cheek. It stopped raining at some point. It was raining earlier, right? It’s nice that it stopped now, and that Bruno’s here. 

“Kamaria? Love?” The hand is patting her cheek now. “Open your eyes for me, love. I need you to stay awake.”

She didn’t realize she’d closed them. Wrinkling her nose, she whines a little. “Tired.”

“I know you are, but you have to stay awake for now. The ambulance is on its way. Come on, open those gorgeous eyes for me.”

She complies, but gives him her best unamused expression. “My head hurts.”

He grows even more solemn. “I know. I found your helmet way up there somewhere. Can you tell me what else hurts? Your leg is scraped up pretty good.” She feels him gently lift her shirt. “Stomach is, too. I don’t see any concerning bruising on it, though I’ll bet you cracked a rib, at least.”

“Head,” she repeats, trying to think past that all-encompassing, throbbing pain to see what else there is. “Hip. Arm.” Almost as an afterthought she adds, “Shoulder.”

“No, I don’t want to move her.” He sounds like he’s talking to someone else. The person on the phone still, maybe. “Hip…” He carefully prods at both, eliciting a gasp and jerk from Kamaria when he touches the injured one. “Left hip. I’m guessing broken, based on the reaction, but could be dislocated. Left shoulder is definitely dislocated. And, uh…” Leaning over, he touches her hand, but quickly pulls back. “Right arm has an open fracture. Yeah, I’m staying on. How far out are they?” He listens for a moment, free hand coming back to rest on her cheek. “They need to hurry up. I’m worried this is more than just a concussion.”

She really wants to go to sleep. Now that Bruno is here, she feels much safer. Maybe now that he’s asked his questions he’ll let her nap.

“Stay with me, Kamaria.” His face is close to hers again. Eyes normally blue like the sky look more like storm clouds in the dim lighting.

“You’re…pretty.”

She somehow expects him to smile at that, but he just keeps looking at her with that worried expression and lightly strokes her hair. “Thank you. So are you.”

“Mean, though. Won’t let…me sleep. And…lost my knife. Can’t…stab you.” 

“We’ll find your knife. And if you try your best to stay awake until the doctor says it’s okay to sleep, then you can stab me all you want after, okay?”

“No,” she whines. She’d like to bury her face in his chest, but she can’t move. “No doctor. Hate doctors.”

“I know, love. But I’m afraid you have to go this time.”

“Will you come?” She doesn’t want to go alone. He just got here, and the doctor is scary.

“Of course I will. I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Can…Shadi come?” 

“Tell you what, I’ll check and see if she can come visit you while you’re there. Alright?”

Kamaria sighs and lets her eyes drift shut again. “‘kay.”

“Eyes open. Come on.” He pauses, turns his head a little. “I hear the sirens. They’re almost here. I’m gonna have to let them work on you to help you feel better, okay? But I’ll be right here the whole time. I’m not going anywhere.” Bending down, he presses a warm, gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too, Kamaria.”

#whumptober2023 #no.22 #vehicular accident #original content #fic #broken bones tw #dislocation tw #mild gore tw #head injury tw #trauma tw #referenced panic attack tw #hospital mention tw #kidnapping mention tw #whipping mention tw #shadow of death #kamaria the assassin #bruno stenberg #brumaria #lady whump #lady whumpee #romance #assassin oc #modern au #whump series

[riftofthestars]

After The Return - P1 [The Station]

The cloth around his neck that held the long arm cast only caused him more neck pain - but at this point he got what he could. Going around with a missing arm would only bring more attention to him, so wearing this filled out cast kept to bucket of worms from spilling out was the best option until his arm would reform. The plastic chair he had to sit in while the reports were filed wasn’t the most comfortable either.  

‘Escaped at the north border (...) the culprits are still at large (...) alone, as I was a high priority target’  

He hoped that would be a good enough story. It would be a good enough story, they could not expect him to give a full recollection of the story. 

All he had to do was keep his shoulders straight, eyes forward and be unquivering. He’s done that so far; he could continue doing it.

The cast also brought up a lot of inconvenience; made him seem more vulnerable to those that would benefit from and actually plan his kidnapping. He had to stay vigilant while he attempted to salvage his plan. He’d been alert all the time. It played into his story about being kidnapped, but in truth he was alert since he was missing his bodyguards and thus couldn’t make an attack look as if it was stopped by them rather than himself.  

But no one would attack inside a police station. He tried to keep telling himself that as he considered his situation over and over and over and over and over again.

The team was disbanded. The political party had been struggling. Whatever social life he started to have had practically gone down the drain. And all these reporters would be storming him every time he went out. He saw them through the window, preparing for when he would come out of the station.

No use in taking off the bandage slowly - he could always ignore the reporters, or at the very least attempt to. As long as he stuck to the same story, he would be fine. Things will slowly fall into place in the public eye, he could take care of the rest in his own time.

With everything settled with the authorities, he would be escorted out to his vehicle. After that he could go straight to his new estate; take this cast off and begin work. 

Leaving the station after a few policemen, the hurricane of questions began and instantly drowned themselves out, cutting each other off, repeating what one another said. Having to be kept at a distance by a few policemen, they made the escort take a lot more time. They became irritating with each passing second. Words felt like they repeated themselves, over and over and over and over and over again. 

All he had to do was keep his shoulders straight, eyes forward and be unquivering. He’s done that so far; he could continue doing it.

At this point he wasn’t even processing the questions thrown at him, blood boiling from all the sound.

“Let us turn this a detailed lecture on the practices of kidnappers, how about that!?” He growled, eyes glaring at each face that held a microphone or a camera. 

“Shove all that equipment down my throat, why not?? You people are insensible to a degree that I have not seen before. I have just dealt with an incredibly stressful part of my life and I will continue to be stressed as I try to pick my life back together and here you all are, wanting to document it like it is some sort of event to gawk at. Have some fucking sense people.” 

He could just feel his bones start to ache from the release of tension, continuing to push through the now silent crowd. The interior car allowed him to take a moment to breathe and take his mark off - thank the gods for smoked windows.

“Home?” The voice of the Tiefling in the driver seat called out, muffled by the parting glass.

“Yes, please-” The Jailer groaned out, rubbing his face with his (temporarily) only hand. “I will explain more about your contract when we get there.”

As the engine started, his mind went back to making plans. Properly introduce and explain the contract to his new employee. Pick up the pieces of his political party, undoing and controlling the damage of the temporary leader. Find out the status of the previous team and properly deal with each one. All the while dealing this regenerating arm. He went over the steps of each plan during his trip home. Over and over and over and over and over again.

All he had to do was keep his shoulders straight, eyes forward and be unquivering. He’s done that so far; he could continue doing it.

#The Jailer is the Key: IC #Library of Eternity: Writing Work #Storyline: After the Return #Here's the whole thing #TW: Police #Police tw #TW Kidnapping Mention #Kidnapping Mention tw #Long Post

[itwcsmcroon]

’ you didn’t even hear me out. ’ ( morgan & hope >:))))) ) @lcvenderhcze

"yeah well... little hard to understand you right now considering well... your mouth's full." she pulled herself to her feet, stumbling a little as whatever tranquilizer had been used to knock her out and... bring her here. she glanced around, taking everything in, the television... the contraption on hope's head. what the fuck... "fucking hell, i feel like i've seen this in a movie once," she muttered, making her way over to hope and starting to undo the restraints on her wrists while at the same time examining the large metal device encasing hope's head. "don't get up yet... there's a timer back here, if you do, it'll pull a cord from it and it'll start." she jumped when she heard static as the television switched on and looked over her shoulder to see. what the fuck?

#morgan || threads #morgan || hope #trap tw #kidnapping mention tw #sjhfkjahdf #LET'S GOOOOOO

[sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins]

Rogers stop kidnapping people challenge (failed)

#( ooc ) #kidnapping mention tw

[wannabecatwriter]

“You’re sure it’s safe to talk to this Wyatt guy?” Rachel asked. “It won’t make things worse?”

“Well, Jasper and I have known him for many years. And we haven’t known him to do anything dishonorable during this time,” Ashton tried to reassure her. “As people go, he’s pretty upstanding.”

“Ok,” she nodded. “I’ll take your word for it. Will he believe me, though? I mean, I was angry at Harvey before I walked in there. How do I know he won’t think I’ve made it all up? Or worse, hallucinated the whole thing.”

“He’s not really the type to think that,” Ashton told her.

“Alright,” she breathed carefully, trying to steel herself. She still remembered the time when her classmates tried to report a kidnapping attempt on on of them in their senior year and were practically brushed aside by the police.

But Ashton was sure this won’t be the case now. Ashton, who always thought everything was fine...

She felt her insides do a somersault, with bile rising up in her chest.

“Sorry, where’s the bathroom?”

#Sims3 #Chronicles of a Pessimist #Ashton Byrd #Rachel Everett #Sims Stories #nausea tw #kidnapping mention tw

[deathlesslight]

tw for kidnapping, being held against one's will and other such unsavory things

nirnasha siraj went from being the siraj golden girl to a pariah and it all it took was one vampire bite.

the siraj family are a well known, well connected, well respected and rich hunter family. and appearances? appearances were everything. to the outside world, they were perfect. perfectly happy. a perfect family.

but behind closed doors mom and dad fought a lot and they put a lot of pressure on nirnasha especially to make her first kill; they send her out on her first assignment when she was eighteen but when the time came, she couldn't go through with it.

so she fled. cut ties and left everyone and everything behind.

she thought she was careful. she thought she put all the training to good use. but aman mrithun still got to her. he let her family know in order to taunt them, but they didn't lift a finger to get her back.

aman collects people like trinkets and spirits them away to his den. but what he didn't account for was the fact that nirnasha's ability to see the future activated after he turned her into a vampire - a vetala.

(some vetalas see the future, others can possess people. very rarely does one vetala have both abilities, yet it's been known to happen once in a blue moon.)

nirnasha spent two years in aman's den, feeding and being fed on (energy, blood, food and drinks were all fair game). the one thing that kept her going was her friendship with the others and the fact that they'd get rescued someday. they'd get rescued and aman would get what he deserved.

(nirnasha thought it'd be the other hunters in the community she grew up in. she was wrong.)

it happened, yes, but not in the way she expected.

it took two grueling years - during which many people and vampires died - but it happened.

they rescued themselves after lots of trials and tribulations and in the end, aman's den burned down with him inside of it. most of them got out, but not everyone did. it's nirnasha's greatest regret.

nowadays, nirnasha is adrift. she can go anywhere except home. she keeps in touch with the people she met during her time in aman's den. but she's not in contact with her family anymore; she's dead to them and they are dead to her.

#headcanons / nirnasha siraj. #kidnapping mention tw #kidnapping tw

[cherrykamado]

warnings: yandere touya, kidnapping mention.

Yandere touya kidnapping you because he couldn't stand you rejecting him. He already had his family move on without him, he'd be damned if he let you do the same.

#yandere tw #kidnapping mention tw #🍒 — cherry thirsts #touya<3 #HELP this is angsty tho :(