CHRISTMAS KIDS - YANDERE ! DSMP SUPERHERO AU + TEEN ! READER

// chapter fourteen : opal //

" opal // releasing attachments , emotional amplification . "

trigger warnings : cursing, yelling, kidnapping, death, obsessive behavior, blood, weapons, panic attacks

( sorry 😰 )

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third person pov

Techno stared at them, chained to the wall by the legs with shackles on their hands. The man grimaced, walking away from the two-way mirror and to the bolted shut door.

He opened it easily.

It creaked loudly, Y/n groaning. They had been passed out for just over a day, which just got Philza mote frustrated. Wilbur was ecstatic, although the three other "captures" didn't make him as happy.

Technoblade grabbed a cloth, pouring a bit of bleach on it and putting it by their nose. They eyes snapped open, arms swinging and clocking the pinkette straight in the head with the shackles.

"wh- technoblade?"

Their voice cracked, evident fear in them. He laughed, sitting back up in-front of them. Wow, they packed a punch.

"Hey, uh, again. Sorry f'scaring you."

Y/n whipped their head around, eyes flashing around the concrete walls. Realization set in as they stayed sitting, leaning against the wall.

"I.. I didn't know Wilbur was going to actually bring you. I cant help you."

The pinkette glanced at the camera and speakers in the room, being careful with his words. Y/n had fell silent, staring at the ground.

"Look, Mirage-"

"don't fucking call me that. none of you deserve to call me that."

Mirage was their name to the public, their facade that was being a vigilante. They didn't look at him when they talked.

"Sorry. Y/n. They're gonna be here soon, and it's not gonna be good."

He whispered to them, at least not in earshot of the microphones in the room.

"im sorry."

And with that he just.. Left. They listened as the doors locked shut, the teen letting out a heavy sigh. They were chained down to where they could walk around but not reach the door, and it sapped their energy to move.

Teleporting wasn't an option- They were too weak to. Y/n stared into their lap, trying to remember last night. At one point they were with their new dog, and now they were here. But what happened between thoses hours? Or days?

The young adult got up, going to the mirror. They pressed a finger against it, their reflections touching. Y/n stared dead eyed to whoever was behind it, knowing it was two-way.

Probably Wilbur or Philza being weirdos. The h/cette sat on the bed, the bed being better than what they had. Rich bastards had everything.