being titus’s kidnapped little girl 💕
titus danforth x female reader, hardcore gaslighting, feminine reader, cw: fauxcest, cw: kidnapping, titus very obviously has no issues hitting women, cw: violence, miiiiiiiiiiindbreak, dead dove, ursula is dead and titus holds the seat of power
well, you weren’t kidnapped, per se, as titus so often likes to tell himself. au contraire, you walked into the danforth resort of your own free will and volition. titus loves to muse that if your biological “father” was any father at all, he would’ve kept you locked in the house. you don’t do well with freedom, he says.
it was shortly after your birthday. freshly legal! you and your friend decided to take a short trip. you were drinking at the hotel bar when titus came upon you. sitting in that little pink and white lace dress, clearly not of legal age to drink. titus wanted to wring the neck of the bartender serving you. in truth, he wanted to wring your neck as well. silly little girl, inebriating herself. it was there that he’d overheard you and your friend making plans for the night. you’d go to sleep at around 10, tired from the flight in. at about the same time, your friend would head out to explore the nightlife. she told you she’d be back at around 3 am.
he knew what he had to do. ursula probably would’ve told him that this was a patently idiotic idea. she probably would’ve called him a pathetic loser, can’t find a woman he likes with all the money in the world at his disposal, has to capture a barely legal teenager out of her bed at night. but ursula is… gone for that very reason. she thought she could control titus. he had to show her he wasn’t a man who could be controlled. you’d get that soon enough.
so, he stole into your room at 11 pm. as he loomed over your bed, you stirred. he’ll always remember how your eyes widened in terror as he stared down at you. you tried to scream, tried to bite, but he had a cloth pressed firmly over your mouth. making you sleepier, and sleepier, and sleepier. “shhh, baby,” he said long after you had stopped struggling.
he carried you like that, down the hall, down the elevator. placed you on the golf cart and drove you to the lodge. he didn’t much care for discretion these days. with mr. le bail smiling down on him, there’s not much titus couldn’t get away with. in fact, there’s nothing that titus couldn’t get away with.
none of the staff, certainly not pernilla, commented on your arrival. they had no interest in disappearing. pernilla seems to enjoy these things. you would grow to actively dislike pernilla.
he laid you down in the bed in one of the many rooms in the lodge. he made you hot chocolate. he set a syringe of ativan on the nightstand, anticipating a struggle. he didn’t want to puncture you much. your skin was so unmarked, it would look out of place.
by 1:30 am, you started to stir. titus snuffed out his cigar and approached the bed. you shot straight up and he petted your hair. you immediately started crying. “where am i..?” he just shushed you. “please, let me go, i swear i won’t tell the cops.” oh, you sweet summer child, the police wouldn’t do anything.
“relax, sweetheart. did you have a bad dream again? what’s going on, honey?”
he looked genuinely concerned. so familiar with you. to the point where you thought that maybe you were dosed at the bar and are having some strange trip. he petted your hair again. “honey, you’re scaring dad. let’s get you bathed…”
your eyes widened again. dad? no, you have a dad, distant as he may be. and this man isn’t him.
titus clicked his tongue. “oh, sweetheart, my bunny, you’re all out of sorts, aren’t you? ‘s been happening on and off since you were in that dreadful accident. you do remember that, don’t you?”
you weren’t tied up. why wouldn’t a kidnapper tie you up? you jerked, kicking titus in the chest. in the balls. in the face. wherever your feet could reach. they were pinned down immediately. he looked at you with so much sympathy. “my poor girl. shhhhh. daddy’s gonna give you your anxiety medicine. it’s been really hard for you, i know.” he picked up the syringe, tapped the needle, and pressed it into your upper arm. you screamed. he mumbled “close your eyes, kid. i know. you never like this part. this’ll take care of those yucky feelings.”
when you woke up again, around eight hours later, the room you were in was either completely redecorated or a different room all together. your vision swam. you pushed yourself up and saw that it was decorated entirely in lace, a few stuffed bunnies around you, mocking your plight. your voice came out garbled, but as loud as you could muster. “help! somebody help me!”
titus came back into the room. he looked exasperated. and when you got the courage to scream “where am i?” he looked pained. he forced tears to well in his eyes. he thought of ursula, always treating him like a child. well, fuck ursula. you’re his now. and you’re going to obey him. and he’d treat you like a child, not the other way around.
he rubbed a hand over his greying, stubbled jaw. you were so confused. so frightened. “can you tell me what you remember, hon?” he looked like he genuinely cared, though you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. he was actively steeling himself against laughing. not that you knew that. “i— i was sleeping in my bed. in the hotel—” he cut in “baby, what hotel. you know i’d never let my sweet girl stay in a hotel by herself.” you glared at him “and then you were standing over me. and i screamed. and i woke up here. and you injected me with some— some fucking thing. and i woke up here.”
there was a sharp crack against your thigh. tears welled immediately in your eyes. “i’m sorry, baby. you know how dad feels about you swearing. oh, i know, you’ve had such a hard night, but we do gotta keep some manners. ‘s just so fucking crass. but i know you’ve been having a hard time lately. that’s why i’m going easy on you.”
you tried to bite him. “you’re not my fucking father.” he laughed. just laughed. “‘m sorry, honey. i know you’ve been all out of sorts but— god. of course you’re my daughter. raised you by myself, since your mommy died in childbirth. don’t you remember all the pony rides? the parks? any of it? the fucking diapers i changed? the way you cried on the first day of school every year?”
he produced 10 printed photos. all clearly of you as a child. thank mr. le bail for the satanic little favors he bestowed upon titus. you were addled from the after effects of both the chloroform and ativan. you mumbled. “what happened? why can’t i remember any of these?” titus sighed and kissed your forehead. “you hit your head while driving a year ago. it’s why i don’t let you drive anymore. the doctors said the accident severely diminished your capacity for independence—” your eyes started to well again. was this really your father? he had all these photos. and you looked so happy in all of them. “no, don’t cry, baby. dad loves taking care of you. you know that.”
he pulled up an old video of what appeared to be him and you on your fifteenth birthday. you were sitting on his lap, hugging him, the biggest grin on your face. the you that you did not remember said “thank you, daddy!”
thoroughly broken, you whimpered “but i feel really strange… like something awful happened to me.” titus nodded and gave a pout. “i bet you do, angel. i bet dad’s sweet girl feels so bad. but you’ve always had anxiety. that’s why i give you your medicine every morning. but you’ve had a fever for the past two days and i’ve been so focused on getting cold medicine in you that i forgot your other medication.” he gripped your face, smushing your cheeks together. “but that’s dad’s fault. not yours. you get that? i’m the one who was supposed to take care of that. don’t even think of blaming yourself.”
titus picked you up. you tried to bite him again, but it was weak with the confusion of the situation. he was clearly your dad, right?
he positioned you on his lap and pushed your legs apart. you were in a thin cotton nightgown now, with no panties in sight. he inched his hand up your thigh. you curled into him “‘m sorry, dad.” he shushed you. “nothing to be sorry for. we’re just gonna get you taken care of.” a thick finger circled your clit, it did not push in, nor did it attempt to bring you to completion, it simply toyed with you. titus pressed a kiss to your cheek. “‘s okay if you lost all your memory. daddy’ll make you remember, won’t he?”
you lifted your head from his shoulder, tears still welling, and he quickly kept himself from smiling. you looked into his cold hazel eyes. “yes, dad.”