#yandere drew Thomas

[mayullla]

Title: Stepfather Thoma

Character(s): Thoma (Genshin Impact)

Summary: Modern au, Stepfather au; Thoma always tried his best to be by your side ever since he first saw you when he first started working at the kindergarten.

Warnings/tags: Fem!reader, child!reader, purely platonic, obsessive, yandere themes, minor character death

Your mother was always busy ever since you were young, after she and your father broke up she had to work harder to support the two of you. Maybe in the later years, you would have been thankful for what she has done but you were still but a small child. Still too young for you to understand that your mother can't go to all the parent-teacher meetings and sports festivals and would pick you up late from school because she was often too busy to pick you up on time.

Can't be with you often as you would like.

So more often than not you were stuck in the kindergarten alone, your friends all already left with their parents holding their hands as they tell them about the fun things that happened that day while their parents would humor them with a smile on their faces.

You wished that your mother would come faster…

But it was alright because Thoma was there! A teacher at your kindergarten who was always there with you when you had to wait for your mother! He was a nice man playing board games, tea parties, playing with the ball, and anything that you wanted to do he would play with you.

Thoma was the one who always makes you happy when you feel lonely. Sometimes when you come back home you would miss him when you watched your mother slave away on the laptop for some project she was working on.

You thought of your lonely room or living room where your mom promised to make a pillow fortress with you when she was finally free from work. Yet the living room continued to be devoid of the puffy material and laughter.

But in the end, when your mother comes to the kindergarten you would still cheerfully hold your mother's hand as the two of you would head back home. Too excited in seeing your mother’s face, excited to tell you everything that happened in school, excited to tell her what you did when you waited for her same as the other kids and their parents. Telling her that teacher Thoma and you drew pictures, or how you guys played with the lego and made a castle together.

You didn't see how Thoma would watch longingly at you and your mother, envious of her relationship with you and how close you guys were. 

Thoma always wanted you, ever since he first laid eyes on you. It wasn't something romantic, it was more of how a mother bear would be protective over her bear cubs. It was platonic and… obsessive.

You are just so adorable! How could he help it?

The first time he saw you, he noticed how sweet you were. A troublemaker sometimes sure but weren't all kids like that? But he would always see that tint of loneliness in your eyes when he saw you watching other kids. So he tried to be nice to you, spending time while the both of you wait for your mother.

Thoma wanted you, he wanted you to look at him as you did to your mother. The brightness in your eyes when you see her come to pick you up and the bright and loud voice of excitement that you would give when you explained everything that happened in class that day.

Thoma wanted that…Sure you are happy around him and talk to him a lot as he became the closes teacher to you in the kindergarten but it still lacked… lacked the joy that you have for your mother. This certain reliance that a child would have on their parents.

So he made a decision back then… he wanted you but it was not like he could steal you. He was only a teacher, nothing grand nor does he think he has the wits to outsmart others like his friend Ayato. He didn't want to see you sad and scared either… You were too precious to have tear fall from your eyes, all he wants was for you to smile.

So he started asking you what your mother was like, things that you like about her and he wanted to change a small bit not too obvious but if there was a small thing that you liked your mother doing like patting your head or holding your hand when you go out, he already has that done. If you told him that you like that your mother would listen to your stories all the time or something about candies that she has that you absolutely love. He will listen to your stories! He would also buy you the candy that you absolutely love, and every day he would give you one. 

But he also asked what’s your mother's likes and dislikes too, you didn't understand what he was really asking about but you were too excited to talk about your mother. Telling him almost everything you know about your mom, some stories that made you proud or very clear in your mind you would say it 2 to 3 times, and Thoma would just listen smiling.

You were excited when you saw your mother and Thoma talk for the first time a little longer than the last other than a short ‘thank you’, two of your favorite people in the world were talking to each other after all! Most of the conversations were about you really, like how you were doing well at the kindergarten and that you were a good kid. All sounded pretty innocent to you. Your mother also thanked Thoma for always looking after you so when the two of you when back home you noticed the flushed cheeks your mother had.

You didn't understand why your mother’s red cheek, you didn't realize that your teacher Thoma had been very special kind of ‘kind’ or ‘concerned’ towards your mother because… you didn't hear it, you didn't notice nor understand. You found their conversation boring after a while and chose to go somewhere else to play and amuse yourself while they continued talking.

After that, they two would talk often when your mom would come to pick you up. Thoma would talk about you while she would listen or he would ask her questions, like how was her day and such. Your mother started to ask you what teacher Thoma was like and you innocently would tell her how amazing he was. After that, she would ask about his likes and dislikes, his hobbies and then would ask you to ask him what kind of women he likes. It was a slip-up really asking you that last question it wasn't like you would really know.

One day she was looking at her wardrobe when she asked you what his favorite color was. You did ask him that question before and quickly answered that his favorite color was red. After that, she took you to your friend's home while she was dressed in a pretty red outfit.

You didn't find out that Thoma and your mother started to date, you noticed something was odd between them at one point but you never really understood, maybe you didn't care, maybe you noticed but the focus was never there and you ended up forgetting about it at one point.

It was a few months then when your mother suddenly sat you down, at night when you already got ready for bed. Her eyes filled with concern as she asked you what you thought about her marrying again. You just tilted your head at her and slowly nod a bit hesitant because of the atmosphere. Her smile in relief was the last thing you remember that night as you gaze at the ceiling glowing star stickers excited that you finally have a dad, and not only that it was Thoma!

You greeted him with the biggest smile that next day, asking question after question about him and your mom’s relationship some he just skipped some he answered vaguely. You were a child after all no need to know all the details what Thoma wanted to know was your day, your childish thoughts and feelings he was more interested in them than your mother.

It was a month or so when you gasp at how pretty your mom looked in her pretty white wedding dress, with a flustered look on her face so genuinely happy and you were the flower girl! You were so excited to have a new family as you watch your mother and Thoma kiss on the stage as people cheered, you thought you cheered the loudest that day.

You didn't see Thoma’s gaze towards you too happy for your mom and having a family with a father, you can't hear his thoughts that you were in a way finally his, his little daughter than some kindergarten teacher that can't follow you to your future as you grow. He can be with you as you grow up and stay right by your side. Nobody can tell him off with his obsession towards you because he was your father, after all, a parental figure who worries about their little daughter. Really Thoma just can't calm his beating heart as he watched you cheer for him, as he thought about the future with you with him.

Your mornings were always fun, Thoma was the one who almost always made breakfast after he moved into your and your mom’s home. He was the one who now takes you to the kindergarten. 

You didn't realize it nor your mother too tired and too in love but Thoma was slowly taking more and more of your time.

Times when you watched your mom leave for work when it was the holidays your stepfather Thoma would always be there for you asking if you would like to bake with him or play board games with him. Your stepdad would always make you smile at the end of the day as you felt reassured in your heart that you would not be alone as he told you that he would always be there for you.

When your mother told you that she was too tired to talk and to play with your toys instead Thoma would be there asking you if you would like to play tea party with him, your teddy bear is a little lonely and would like to hang out with you after all. Your mom was always loving, but she does have moments when she is just so so tired that she didn't want anything to do with you that even smiling was hard, Thoma would be there to comfort you after he guided your mom to the bathroom for a long relaxing bath. Telling you that your mom had a rough day and that you could just hang out with him instead. 

You didn't realize it but you started to rely on Thoma more and more, your mother also didn't realize how attached you were to him happy that you have someone other than her that cared and adored you just as much if not more and would be there for you when she couldn’t.

You and your mom didn't see the glint in Thoma’s eyes, absolutely happy that you were slowly looking at him. The obsession that you were his daughter and that he could always be there for you never disappeared and instead grew stronger and stronger, it was unsettling how much he loved you and treasured you yet to others all they see was a father who spoiled their little princess. Nobody saw how he manipulated his words, words that were bittersweet yet poison to a young one, how could they? When they see how much fond love Thoma has towards you, to them it was just cute really.

But as time went Thoma became less and less satisfied with his life, wanting to hog all your attention even the attention you gave to your mother he wanted it all. Because no matter what he could do, he could not change the relationship between you and her.

He started to grow mildly annoyed when your mother would ask for his attention when she ask him to spend a little more time with her instead of you. She noticed how much time he spent with you her daughter yet gave no attention to her, his spouse. When he gave her so much in the past, where did it all go? Thoma grew even more annoyed at her off days when she could finally be with you and play together with you. Taking all his time from you that day, that you still loved your mother this much.

He thought about a life with you and without your mother, it was just you and him. How wonderful it would be, to be with you and to have your undivided attention than to share with your mom. Sure you would be sad to see your mother gone and feel a little abandoned but don't worry he would be with you all the way as he helped you heal any remaining scars that were left by your mom and after that, it would really just be you and him for real this time. And a friend was willing to help him this time make it happen.

You don't remember how it happened, you and your stepdad had headed out to the morning market and had just returned when you saw police cars in front of your home. It was confusing and concerning as you tightly gripped your stepdad’s hand in worry as to why police would come to your home as you already knew that your mom was out at work.

After that, it was almost a blur when you listened to your stepdad talk with the police as the policeman gave you a hesitant glance unsure to say it in front of you but in the end chose to do so, the shock in Thoma’s voice when the police told him that your mother was caught in a car accident and that she passed away as she was taken away to the hospital. 

You asked him what happened unable to comprehend what was really happening. But seeing how hesitant he was and how the pupils of his eyes and his hands shook he took you to another room for privacy, hugging you as if it was some sort of comfort when you wanted to know what was going on. 

You screamed your voice raw that day, as you cried and shouted at Thoma that no your mother would never leave you behind and that she loved you a lot. You screamed and pushed him away, you cried and slammed your tiny fist on his legs too short and angry that he would ever say that, that your mother left you when she loved you so much.

Thoma tucked you into bed after you finally fell asleep, too tired to stay awake any longer. It was a busy day for him for a few days, having to handle so many things, many would pity him for losing his wife after a short time together but many would also feel their blood turn cold at the smile Thoma had as he combed your hair with his hand. The soft whispers that he would always be there for you and that he would forever love and cherish you more than your mother ever had.

You were finally his and he was finally content.

Note: This is really old.... like months old written when I first started writing for Genshin which is almost a year now. But leaving it on drafts is a bit sad so I thought why not post it now.

[cutebat]

Masterlist

~ Welcome to the Masterlist Manor ~

~~~~~

Main Account: @unicreamuwu

Disclaimer: This account does contain dark themes because it is a yandere tumblr account, so anyone who feels uncomfortable or has any sort of fear of any of the things that are contained in this story should not interact here.

This account will NOT contain any romance, so anything like "Any Batfam member x Batgirl Reader" will not be allowed. If I see a request that is related to any sort of romance, I will automatically delete it.

I will also post my own art on this account, and please do NOT steal my art. I work very hard on those drawings that I wanted to show you guys, so please do not steal and copy the art that I drew. If you see anyone doing this, please let me know!

Thank you ~ !

Series

💟 ~ The Little Batgirl ~ 💟

Prologue (On my main account)

1 (On my main account)

2 (On my main account)

3

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Characters

🩷 ~ Batgirl Reader ~ 🩷

Banner by FoiocianoeuVii on Pinterest

Information about her! (Update!)

Art

Random Batgirl Reader Art

Batgirl Reader sketches (on a yellow notepad)

Other

Who is Matcha?

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🩶 ~ Bruce Wayne (Batman) ~ 🩶

Banner by @feiticeirascarlate

Stories

Headcanons

Drabbles

Art

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💙 ~ Richard "Dick" Grayson (Nightwing) ~ 💙

Banner by @iconsgeek

Stories

Headcanons

Drabbles

Art

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❤️ ~ Jason Todd (Red Hood) ~ ❤️

Banner by @wadewicons

Stories

Headcanons

Drabbles

Art

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🤎 ~ Timothy "Tim" Drake (Red Robin) ~ 🤎

Banner by @elvenarcher

Stories

Headcanons

Drabbles

Art

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💚 ~ Damian Wayne (Robin) ~ 💚

Banner by @iconsgeek

Stories

Headcanons

Drabbles

Art

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💛 ~ Duke Thomas (The Signal) ~ 💛

Banner by unknown

Stories

Headcanons

Drabbles

Art

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🖤 ~ Cassandra Cain (Orphan) ~ 🖤

Banner by unknown

Stories

Headcanons

Drabbles

Art

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🧡 ~ Barbara Gordon (Oracle) ~ 🧡

Banner by @dickgraysno

Stories

Headcanons

Drabbles

Art

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💜 ~ Stephaine Brown (Spolier) ~ 💜

Banner by unknown

Stories

Headcanons

Drabbles

Art

~~~~~

Art

Random Batgirl Reader Art

Batgirl Reader sketches (on a yellow notepad)

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Other

Reader wants to move out of the house

Reader being forced to cuddle with the batfamily

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Other Things

Art Request Rules

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Leaving so soon?

Don't go yet... please.

[starzgaze]

ooo!!! Hiii congrats on reaching 200 followers!! Just some questions about the 200 follower thingyy ?just asking to clarify thingss for all) :

But like what do you mean by interactive story, like a poll situation, were we vote for what happens next??

And for drawing suggestions! Is it Like:

ex) jinwoo and Thomas Andre fighting over a bagel?or is it something like the Yandere ones you drew where they're reacting to what you do/did?.ie. The one one you did with Jinwoo and Zhigang (like the little tidbit of them reacting to reader trying to escape)

anywayyys no pressure and cheers!!!

✒️ nonnie

HII AND THANK YOUU ✒️ NONNIE but to answer your questions

1.) it's either that or I'll create a quick online vn that'll have different endings depending on what character you pursue but i might just do the former because i absolutely hate html😕 but it dependss.... lets see🤭

2.) I'd pay to see that and I'm putting that on my list to draw but for ur other question it really depends on what the ask will have or the event I'll put up!! my current idea right now is to make it interactive like you'll say something to the character and I'll conjure up a drawinf of the character replying to that so essentially the same i do for the yandere drawings i do but a bit moree personalized and dependinf on the prompt there'll be a short fic surrounding it!! but yeaah idk still because i genuinely dont know what to do to celebrate 200 😭😭

[nerwkip]

check out yandere thomas i drew this for my berry

[solarisensun]

Broken Loyalties (2)

Yandere! Thoma + Ayato x f!reader 

- thank you for your patience with me as i wrote this. its one of my longer fics and i drew alot of inspiration from ayato’s character teaser when i wrote this. enjoy <33 it is highly recommended that you read p1 before reading this and NO there will not be a p3

After your little stunt, Ayato makes his final decision 

Warnings: smut, yandere themes (as usual), dubcon (intoxicated reader), implied voureyism ig

On the outside, Kamisato Ayato appears perfect.

He smiles at the right moments, puts in a good word or two whenever the conversation beckons towards him. It was an art that he’d perfected over the years ever since he became the head of the Kamisato clan at such a young age. Although it allowed him to solidify his position amidst the hungry crowd vying for his clan’s power, to properly beat the greedy crowd vying for his position, Kamisato Ayato has done one of many despicable things. Though he’s not proud of it, there was no denying that he’d grabbed his position with his own hungry hands and shaped it into the status he had right now.

Nevertheless, he likes to comfort himself that he did it not for himself. But instead, he’d done it for the clan. Their family would be in shambles if he turned a blind eye. How could he abandon the position that his family had held for generations? And as another cold body is flung into the ocean just outside of the Kamisato manor, he tells himself: It’s for the clan.

The Fontaine merchant in front of him guffaws at a neat little joke he’d just slid into their conversation. Another potential ally in his pocket. Now that things in Inazuma have become more stable with the traveler’s help, Ayato doesn’t have to always draw his blade to get the things that he wants. Usually, all it now takes is a little convincing to have things going smooth sailing.

In the worst case scenario, he can always send in the Shumaatsuban instead of stepping in himself. Investing heavily into the Shumaatsuban when it was still in its early roots had certainly been one of Ayato’s best choices.

Over the rim of his glass, Ayato shoots the merchant’s blushing daughter a well-practiced smirk. One that makes her avert her eyes as the blush across her cheeks burn crimson red. Earlier, he’d caught her staring at him across the room. Seeing how deep her father’s pockets ran, it wouldn’t hurt to charm her. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to notice how hollow his perfect smile is.

The clink of glass draws his gaze to the corner. And like a moth drawn to a flame, Ayato’s gaze falls upon your figure again.

He’d met you many years ago, back when he was still navigating the turbulent waters of being the Kamisato head. Ayato had always been a selfish man who had to control his desires. He was thrusted into this position and robbed of his childhood. Nonetheless, you make him feel alive again. Like he isn’t just existing instead of living. So how could you tell him that you were leaving back to Mondstadt? All this time, he thought that the two of you had built a bond. And when you told him that a boat agreed to smuggle you back to Mondstadt, Ayato acts before his brain can fully comprehend the fact that you’re leaving him.

It’s laughably easy to trap a lone foreigner like you in Inazuma. His title as the head of the Yashiro Commission comes in handy too. And the same way Ayato has always justified his own actions. He argues that forcing you into a marriage with him is for your sake. What happens if you get lost out at sea? What if one of the Raiden Shogun’s lightning strikes your boat? He’d never live with himself if that happens.

But deep deep down in his selfish, rotten heart, Ayato knows that keeping you right next to him had simply boiled down to his desire for you.

Pale eyes narrow when you stumble across your two feet. You’d never stumbled; after all, wielders of the anemo vision have always been known to be light on their feet. Even after he’d stolen your vision away and hid it in a locked metal box, Ayato has always been fearful that you’d drift away in the breeze if the wind blew a little too strongly.

He would bound you in chains before he’d allow that to happen.

Ayato’s gaze slides toward the man who’s holding your limp body upright. Thoma. As if sensing the weight of his glare, the young blonde glances up guiltily, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Ayato’s gloved grip around his cup tightens when Thoma winds his arm around your waist. The conversation in front of him tunes out into nothing but incoherent white noise. A haze of blinding jealousy wells up in him; it’s so vicious that Ayato almost forgets how to speak. Nevertheless, he’d drawn this upon himself the moment he agreed to Thoma’s request.

He downs the rest of the sake with a neat flip of his wrist. “Please excuse me.” The young lord gives his guests a blinding smile. One that hides the sharp gleam in his pretty eyes. “It looks like my wife has had too much to drink. I should escort her to her room.” He finishes his sentence with an airy laugh. One that prompts everyone to chuckle along like sheep blindly following a shepherd. Although all Ayato wants is to rip you out of Thoma’s arms, he still keeps a steady grip over the reins of control. He still appears as the smooth young man that Kamisato Ayato is known for. After all, his position is also one of the reasons he can keep you here.

As the guests mingle amongst themselves, Ayato crosses the room towards you in large strides. “I’ll take it from here.” Without waiting for Thoma’s response, he sweeps you into his arms. A startled gasp falling off your lips as you wind your arms around Ayato’s neck for support. Something in him purrs its approval when he sees the disgruntled look on Thoma’s face.

“My lord-”

“ Step aside .” His words are clipped and brusque, a stark contrast to the amiable host he once was moments ago. “I told you to keep an eye on her.”

Thoma’s jaw tenses. It’s a tiny movement, any person less observant than Ayato would have missed it.

“I think it’d be best if I escorted Mrs. Kamisato to her room. You still have guests to attend to,” the stubborn look that flits across Thoma’s face is out of place. It’s one that catches Ayato by surprise. After all, the Mondstadt housekeeper had never been so direct to him before. Not until recently… Yet, Ayato schools his face into calamity, like the still surface of a pool of water.

Arched brows crept up his forehead. “When have you begun questioning my instructions?”

Thoma flinches. “I’m only trying to act in the best interests of Mrs. Kamisato.”

“Did you forget that I’m her husband?”

The word ‘husband’ seems to strike Thoma like a coiled whip. Dimly, Ayato is aware that his guests’ curious gazes have begun flickering over to the three of you. The young lord’s wife in a drunken state and his famous servant squaring against him. He couldn’t have people prying into the cracks like ravenous vultures. He couldn’t afford it.

“Step aside,” Ayato repeats with a smooth smile. “People are watching.”

Although Thoma holds his gaze for another fiery moment, and just when Ayato wonders if he has pushed him too far- Thoma steps aside, his entire body as stiff as a board.

Ayato casts him an imperious glance as he carries you out of prying eyes. In the end, Thoma’s blazing fires have never been able to triumph over tranquil waters. Nevertheless, it doesn’t mean that Ayato is any happier. In truth, he knew that this would happen eventually.

The careful balance he’d built with Thoma is tipping. Ever since your little stunt, Ayato can feel Thoma’s greedy gaze lingering longer, he creates more loopholes to spend more than you, and somehow , Thoma has managed to sweet talk your handmaidens to enlist him for help. No matter how hard Ayato tries to deny it, he brought this upon himself. He was the one who created that promise with Thoma. Ayato did keep his word, he assigned Thoma as your personal guard, let the two of you take more walks around the garden (where Ayato can strategically keep an eye), he even let Thoma bring you out on weekly trips to the market. A lesser man than Thoma would have lunged on you at the given chance. But Thoma is different. He’s smart, and perhaps the scariest part, Thoma knows how to hide it.

Ayato has worked with Thoma long enough to know that his charming grin and puppy dog demeanor is true… to some extent. Thoma’s connections around Inazuma is enough to rival Ayato’s, and he won’t hesitate to use them to his advantage. Ayato had never minded, as Thoma used them to help the Kamisato clan. But things are different now, Thoma wants more and more. He might not covet Ayato's position in power, but he’d probably take his place as your husband without a second thought. Such fickle things as walks and trips wouldn’t satiate his growing appetite. And now that the Sakoku Decree has been lifted, the only thing keeping you by Ayato’s side is his position as the Yashiro Commissioner.

Thoma’s waiting, waiting for Ayato to slip up and Ayato can’t afford to make a mistake when it comes to you.

It’s driving him up the walls.

Nonetheless, Ayato takes small comfort in the fact that you probably despise Thoma as much as you despise him.

—

Carefully, with a breathtaking gentleness that no one thought Ayato was capable of, he sets your limp body on the bed and detaches the ornate pins holding your hair up. He looks at you, your face bright under the flickering candlelight by the bed. He wonders if you are driving him mad. It’s moments like these when the splinters of his true personality shines through. The ghost of his true nature peeking out of the perfect painting he hides behind.

Even when the moon shines its silvery glow, Ayato dreams of you. Before he met you, he has never dreamed quite often. Most of his dreams are an endless sea of darkness. But even when he closes his eyes now, your face shines beneath his eyelids like a reminder of his obsession. A reminder of what he’s done to you. But in his blissful dreams, you don’t push him away. You smile at him like the first time he’s met you. You wind your arms around his neck and Ayato thinks he might drown in you.

Yet, he always wakes up with a bitter taste lingering on his tongue.

When Ayato brushes your hair out of your face, you stir. Groggy eyes fluttering open, your normally bright pupils are glazed over with a foggy layer of alcohol that murkens your senses. You laughed, giggled, in a tone that’s slightly higher than usual. “I want to drink more.” The blankets tangle around your legs as you nearly fall face flat to the floor before Ayato pushes you back to the bed again.

“You are wasted,” Ayato replies. He tucks the blanket around your squirming body again. “Stay in bed.”

The playful edge of your drunkenness is quickly replaced by the crueler side that Ayato has grown familiar with. “Don’t tell me what to do,” you retort with a glare directed at his shoulder. Another sign that you are thoroughly out of it. Your weak fist collides against his chest, rumpling up his carefully arranged clothes. “It’s so suffocating.”

“I know,” Ayato replies, his voice perfectly neutral. His cold fingers wrap around your wrists in a firm yet gentle grip.

“I hate you .”

“I know.” Carefully, he pries your fingers off the lapel of his jacket. His voice remains as calm as still water.

“Do you regret it?”

“What?” A ripple breaks across the pond.

“I don’t know.” Your voice shakes, from the alcohol or from your emotions, Ayato can’t quite tell. “Everything you’ve done to me. You said you loved me. Is that even true?” A tear trickles down your cheek.

“Shh, shh.” He wipes the tears away with a gloved thumb and presses a kiss against your forehead. “You know I do.” Ayato’s featherlight fingers smooth over your cheek. Your breath quivers with each skate of his touch against your feverishly warm skin.

“Then, let me go,” you say in a small voice.

Ayato’s chest tightens. “And what happens next? I never see you again?”

Just like that, the soft moment is shattered into tiny jagged pieces. You jerk your face out of his grip, glistening eyes fixating on him with a teary glare. “Get out,” you slur with a push against Ayato’s unmoving shoulders. All of a sudden, a cruel smile dances across the curve of your lips. “Better yet, why don’t you get Thoma to come here? It’s funny how you have no qualms of sharing me like I’m a brothel whore!”

You try to hit him again. A clumsy wobbly move that sends you falling into his arms. Your head falls against his chest as a sob wracks your shoulders.

“Get some sleep, my love,” he rasps. Even through your clothes, Ayato can feel the warm, tantalizing press of your body. A flicker of emotion that he’d fought so hard to suppress stirs in him.

“I told you,” you reply, your drowsy gaze holding him captive. In such close proximity, Ayato can count every crystal tear clinging to your lashes. There’s a sickening sense of satisfaction that he finds in making you cry, for him. “Stop telling me what to do. I want you to get out and leave me alone!”

“No, I can’t have you wandering out in front of the guests like this.”

“Why?” You sneer, your cheeks heating up with anger and frustration. “Afraid that they’ll find out how you kidnapped me and forced me-“

Something ugly rears its head in Ayato’s heart. It makes him lurch forward, makes him capture your face between his hands and claim your lips with his.

A soft whimper escapes your mouth as Ayato parts your lips with his. The sweetness of the alcohol explodes in his mouth when he pulls you closer, ignoring your half-hearted pushes against his shoulders to deepen the kiss. The weight of his body causes you to fall back to the bed, Ayato’s mouth still on yours as he kisses you so hard that it steals his breath away. Even when his entire body is draped on yours, Ayato feels like he’s burning up from the inside out. He wants to be closer , closer, closer . Maybe then, the hunger he feels for you will finally be quenched.

He wants you, he wants you so bad that it’s making him sick. Although he has you caged beside him, Ayato longs for more. He really is nothing but a selfish man.

The dark fan of your lashes sweeps across your cheeks when Ayato finally breaks away. Both of you are panting, your lips, shiny and swollen, seem to invite him for another tantalizing taste. Ayato exhales through his nose, shifts back a little to give you some space–

And then you slap him across the face, hard enough to split his lip.

For a second, the flaring pain seems to shake him out of his stupor. Ayato shakes his head a little as you glare at him, your chest is heaving heavily like you’d just ran several laps. It only serves to draw his attention to the delicious dip of your cleavage that was exposed when your kimono slipped down your shoulders.

He blinks, and his pupils are practically blown open so wide that there’s only a pale ring of violet around them. The rusty taste of blood stings his tongue, salty and hot. For a moment, the two of you glare at each other with nothing but the sound of harsh breathing echoing in the empty room. The tension between the two of your tensed bodies just millimeters apart seems to hum and crackle like snarling lightning in the air.

Despite the stinging sensation, Ayato refuses to give you the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

Instead, he swipes his tongue across the slow rivulet of blood down the side of his mouth. A deliberate move that has your gaze flickering down as you gulp.

“Stop it,” you say in a higher pitch than usual.

Ayato darts his tongue out to lick his lips again. A ravenous gaze burns in his eyes. “Do you really think that I can stop when you have such an expression on your face, my love?”

An uncharacteristic growl rumbles his throat. Without warning, Ayato kisses you again. It’s a little messier this time, your tongue fumbles awkwardly against his, but Ayato presses against your until he can see white stars of pleasure explode beneath his eyelids.Your stuttered breaths mingle together as his slender fingers unwind the obi that’s holding your kimono together.

The soft rustle of silk sliding off your skin seems to echo in his ears. With your unbound hair spread across the pillow and the glazed look of your eyes, Ayato wishes he could commission the famed painter of Mondstadt to capture the mesmerizing scene before his eyes on paper. Yet, the thought of someone else getting to see in such a state makes his blood run cold. The best he could do now was commit your beauty to memory. The touch of your fingers smoothing across his cheek alone has him hunching over, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp. It’s been so long since you last touched him like this, no more spiteful glares or flinching, just you, him, and the tender warmth of your soft body pressed against his.

More and more, the kimono slides off to reveal your beautiful skin. In his eyes, everything about you is so vividly perfect that it almost hurts to look at you.

When he caresses his fingers over your pebbled nipples, you let out a breathy little sigh

Each puff of breath against his damp skin makes his self-control unravel. He blames it on the fact that he hasn’t touched you ever since your attempted escape. To be exact, 2 months and 15 days. Not that he’s counting. But Archons , he doesn’t think he can stop now even if tried to. Ayato isn’t usually this reckless, he’s supposed to be composed and dignified. Yet, all of his mounting frustrations have piled up so high that Ayato can’t seem to bring himself to care for the fact that you are drunk out of your mind, or how you’d go back to hating him the very next morning. He doesn’t care if the alcohol is the one that’s driving you to accept him instead of your own free will.

Right now, all he cares about is the fact that you are kissing him back, you aren’t pushing him away. Gladly, he lets himself drown in your sweet white lies.

Carefully, he wraps his hand around the length of your hair and pulls your face backward so that you are forced to glare up at him. Even though there’s unadulterated lust and alcohol painted in your eyes, your lips are curled into a downward scowl. His pretty wife, still stubborn even after all this time.

“Despite everything that has happened, you are mine,” he says in a voice filled with rich, dark amusement. “Even if he spends hours with you, tends to you, touches you. You still belong to me. You know that, dear wife?” You both know who he’s referring to. In all honesty, Ayato isn’t sure if he’s saying it to you or reassuring himself. Nevertheless, it feels good to say it aloud. Thoma will never be the one you sleep next to every night. On paper and in name, you are Kamisato Ayato’s wife.

“Never,” you bite out.

When you try to half-heartedly shake his hand away, Ayato’s grip around your hair tightens and you whimper in response, forced to arch your throat in a perfect curve. A tremble skitters down your spine when he drags his tongue down the column of your neck to your collarbone. It’s probably killing you to be so exposed in front of the man you detest. But Archons, this rush of power that thrums through Ayato’s veins when you are utterly helpless before him is a high that gets him off like no other. For some reason, the taste of victory tonight is stronger than usual.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts, pushing you against the bed as he nestles himself between your legs. When he lets go of your hair, you quickly try to push him off, only to melt like putty when Ayato continues to drag his warm, wet mouth across your stomach. He hums into your skin, though the light sheen of sweat tastes salty, there’s that natural scent of just you that never failed to make his mouth water. A flick of your nipple earns him a sweet whimper and Ayato can’t help but groan in response.

By the time he reaches your thighs, the last of your fight has vanished into thin air. Instead, you press the back of your hand against your mouth with your other hand entangled amongst his pale locks. Another shudder ripples across your body when Ayato runs his nail teasingly against your inner thighs. Finally, your bare pussy is revealed to his greedy gaze. He swears that you look more tantalizing than usual, it might be the alcohol burning in your veins. The guilt Ayato first felt for forcing himself on you whilst you were intoxicated drains each time more and more of your skin is shown to his eyes.

You keen softly. “There you are, my lovely wife, all needy and whiny now that we are both in bed.” Ayato chuckles, blowing a puff of air on your glistening folds just to hear your whine once more. “As much as I love it when you give me another smart remark… I much prefer having you like this. Don’t you think that we communicate better with our bodies?”

That earns him a half hearted glare. “T-That doesn’t mean I don’t hate you.” You curl your fingers into his tousled hair and tug hard enough that Ayato can feel a blossom of soreness. “I hate you. I hate Thoma,” you breathe out, the edge of your sentence stuttering out weakly when Ayato flattens his tongue and laves it across your slit.

“You’ve stated that earlier,” he hums in response. Each syllable falling from his mouth has your back arching off the bed. “Ayato,” you cry out, flinching when his long, slender fingers dips inside you. He ignores your pleas, opting to instead take his time as his arms keep your thighs firmly spread open for his enjoyment. No one else matters in this space, and Ayato is determined to make you fall apart on his tongue. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he murmurs against your skin, nipping at your inner thighs playfully. “So fucking gorgeous that I can’t believe that every inch of your body-” He dips his tongue into your pussy and sucks, his eyes nearly rolling back when the taste of you explodes in his mouth and across his tongue.

Ayato may be a distinguished gentleman, but he eats you out like he’s been starving. There’s no grace or teasing when it comes to pleasuring you. He simply has the sole intent of making you come so hard that you can’t think. No matter how hard your hips buck, Ayato’s warm mouth remains latched over your pussy, determined to lick up all the arousal that’s already dripping down your thighs. Ayato chuckles in between the strokes of his tongue, making you feel each little throaty rumble through your body. When his nose bumps into your clit, your entire body twitches with a high and needy whine. At the same time, Ayato can feel your thighs closing around his face. Nonetheless, Ayato can’t help but feel a slight stab of regret. Maybe he should have forced you to sit on his face instead.

Out of nowhere, Ayato prodes his tongue into you again. But this time, his cool fingers follow suit. Whilst Ayato alternates between crooking his fingers in your soaked heat and lapping up your insides, your heady scent floods his senses as he angles his head deeper into your thighs. Even though your slick is already pouring out in an obscene amount, Ayato finds himself wishing for more, and more, and more. He could never get sick of the way you taste like the more intoxicating of liquors nor the way your folds feel like the soft brush of sakura petals against his tongue

Despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you in months, Ayato still remembers how to play your body like a skillful musician tuning his instrument to a crescendo. After all, he has always been a quick learner. And particularly passionate when it comes to the things that he adores. It doesn’t take long before you are teetering across the edge as the tension and pleasure snaps through your body, all while Ayato continues to rub the pads of his calloused fingers over your sensitive little nub.

There’s a gleam of dark satisfaction that flits across his violet eyes when you come all over his mouth. When your shaky gaze meets his, the corners of his lips upturn into a smirk as he runs his tongue over his slick stained lips. “Every inch of your body is mine , dear wife,” he purrs as he pushes himself from between your trembling thighs and leans forward to kiss you. The taste of your arousal within the kiss only serves to make the two of you groan. In stark contrast to how he ate you out, Ayato’s mouth on yours is far from gentle. Ayato kisses you to devour you, he wants to make everything in you submit to him. And then maybe finally, you won’t even think about anyone else but him. Maybe then, you’ll finally understand his obsession for you. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, with a single hand, he captures your cheeks and kisses you so hard that you melt even further into the bed. When the two of you finally break apart, Ayato breathes in and a tremble runs through his entire body.

“I did what I had to do with Thoma to keep you here,” he whispers, “You know I’ll burn down the entire world if it means keeping you with me, you know that? If he plans to steal your time, so be it. But your name belongs to me. Your body belongs to me. You belong to me .” When the warmth between your legs brushes against his stiff bulge, Ayato’s train of thought nearly shatters. A small smile upturns his lips when you don’t give him a smart answer. He really does love you when you are like this. All soft and malleable under his touch, it leaves him wondering just how far he can push you until you break.

Nonetheless, Ayato gets a response when he drags you forward - a little yelp of surprise, wrapping your legs around his hips as he slides his yukata off his shoulders. Under the muted moonlight, Ayato’s pale skin shines like the ripple of a silver koi fish reflected against the water. His sweeping lashes paint shadows down his cheekbones; though one might have confused his angelic features for innocence and elegance, the corrupt beauty that hid underneath Kamisato Ayato’s aristocratic features spoke of nothing but depravity.

Ayato hisses through his teeth when the tip of his throbbing shaft rubs against your entrance. He’s so hard that it’s a struggle for him to even think through the unadulterated lust that is clouding his usually sharp mind. You aren’t exactly making things easier for him too. With the stuttered gasps that tip out of your swollen lips each time his cock catches against your folds, Ayato inches a little closer.

Carefully, he teases your hole, dipping in a little just to give you a taste of what he had to offer before drawing back again. “Mmm.” He smirks at you with a click of his tongue, a roguish grin that wobbles at the edges when the velvety heat of your pussy tempts him to just sheath it in. “Do you think I can get myself off like this?” Ayato tightens his grip around your thighs. Though you try to pull him closer with your legs, Ayato’s strength, combined with the fact that your head is still woozy with alcohol, allows him to triumph over your pathetic attempts. He presses his cock into your entrance before pulling out again and slapping it against your clit, just to hear your whimpers. “I might just do this the entire night.” Ayato laughs softly. “You didn’t want this, right? As your husband, I have to respect your wishes.”

“A-Ayato…” you whimper. He knows what he’s doing, leaving you like this, all just so he can hear you beg.

“Yes, my love?” Ayato’s intense gaze is still fixated on your clenching hole. Archons, you are so wet. Slowly, he runs the entire length of his cock along your glossy slit, making him nearly as wet as you are. The sight of his cock on your stomach, his pre-cum dripping against your smooth skin, makes his cock twitch in response. It takes every trained effort in him not to break his patience. “All you have to do is ask… nicely. Ask me to fuck your little hole. Ask me to make love to you. Ask me to make you come until you can’t walk.”

He smiles at you, and for the first time of the long night, Ayato has finally gained the upper hand. He made you want him as much as he fucking wants you.

“Just ask me, alone .”

For a tense brief moment, Ayato wonders if you really are that stubborn. But then, you throw your head back against the pillows with a broken sob that is ripped from your throat. “Please, Ayato. Please! Y-You can have me. Please, Ayato, I need you.”

The smile on his face broadens to the point where it almost hurts. “You want me, my love? Only me?”

“Yes!” you cry out, your cheeks already wet with tears.

“Love, say my name. I want to hear you begging for me.”

“Ayato!” You wrap your arms around his neck, and Ayato nearly forgets how to breathe when he sees the want burning in your eyes. “Ayato, please. I want you.”

Without another word, Ayato snaps his hips forward until his entire cock is sheathed in you. Immediately, a sharp hiss is torn from both of your throats. “ Ahhh—” His eyes flutter close, and Ayato forces himself to breathe in through his nose. When you shudder, your velvety heat tightening around him, Ayato sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. Carefully, he slides out, making sure that you feel each vein dragging against your walls (which you do), before sliding it in, maddeningly slow. It’s a languid pace, one meant to make sure that you adjusted to his size but also to ensure that you feel empty when he slides out.

But when you let out a kittenish mewl, Ayato has to restrain the urge to rut into you just to hear you do that once more. Instead, he leans forward to inch himself deeper until his next slow thrust bumps against your cervix. His pace may not be fast, but Ayato is determined to make you feel each time his cock drags in your cunt.

“M-My love, does that feel good?” Ayato smiles at you almost condescendingly, as if he isn’t nearly about to lose his mind too. He presses himself against your body, hooking your legs over his shoulders until the both of you are so close that he can count every lash framing your glazed eyes. He loves to watch you when he’s fucking you senseless. Maybe then, he can pretend like you’re hopelessly in love with him.

The pressure of your pussy fluttering over every ridge on his cock feels insanely good. He could probably spend a whole lifetime buried between your legs if he could, maybe he should start making you sit on his lap while he goes through his paperwork. He’d ask Thoma to serve him tea on purpose, make Thoma watch as you cockwarm your husband’s cock right in front of him.

The idea makes him even harder than before. But even when he’s fucking the brains out of you, Ayato remains composed. He makes sure that every single bump and ridge drags painfully slowly against your walls each time he thrusts in. Besides, Ayato loves it too. He loves the way you moan so beautifully for him. Each little sensation seems to be amplified tenfold when he’s this slow. Ayato fucks you in deep, slow thursts, hissing between his teeth, and his hips nearly stutter when you clamp down around him so tight that he really has to put the effort to pull out and push forward again.

There is sort of a fragile intimacy when Ayato is fucking you so sensually. Each time he plunges forward at his unfaltering pace, Ayato presses your knees against your chest just so that he can angle his cock against your sweet, sensitive spot. When you stare at him in the eyes, your lips so close to his that it feels like you are both trading air, there is a sort of starry-eyed daze gleaming in them that Ayato can almost confuse for love.

“Ayato, I want more,” you tell him with a shaky gasp.

“Hmm?” Ayato punctuates his words with a particularly sharp thrust that knocks the breath out of your lungs. “Like this?” The slap of skin against skin echoes in the air. Aren’t you satisfied that I’m making love to you? You want more?”

A slow pressure has begun to build like flickering flames in Ayato’s gut. Your pussy sucks him in again when he rocks forward, making the lewd squelch of skin against skin vertebrates around the room. He nearly cums like a teenager when your walls clench around him again. Instead, he lets out a throaty groan as white hot sparks of pleasure explode in his stomach. Ayato lowers his head to your bare shoulder to sink his teeth in. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but certainly enough pressure to make sure that there would be a similar purplish mark there tomorrow.

“P-Please,” you say with a hitch in your breath each time Ayato’s cock nudges against your cervix to cause a mixture of pain and pleasure erupting across your frayed nerves. “Will you fuck me, please?”

He’d never been one to resist your words. Especially not when you beg him so nicely.

Ayato kisses you before pulling away. “Your wish is my command,” he says. And before you can blink, Ayato pounds into you so hard that it steals your breath away. Ayato’s breathing grows harsher each time he slams into your messy cunt. Already, your body is arching toward him like a moth drawn to the flame. “You like that?” Ayato pants into your ear, his fingers pet at your clit as he fucks you with a pace that sends your shared bed creaking against his weight. “You like it when I fuck you like this, my love?” He pairs his words with another cruel swirl at your sensitive little nub, making your mouth fall open in a silent cry. The shallow breaths puffing out of your throat matches the quick slap of his cock into your tight pussy, he’s going so savagely fast that it almost makes him light-headed with pleasure.

It’s utterly unlike his usual nature to be so reckless. But when he plays with your cunt for the third time, twirling your clit with his thumb, you come under him with a strained gasp. Your orgasm has your pussy clamping down around him like you are trying to milk him dry. “Ayato- hnngh . I-I’m cumming!” Your entire body convulses, almost making him lose his cool along with your high.

It doesn’t take long before Ayato has abandoned all pretense of his dignity and he’s leaning his entire body weight on you to angle himself deeper, to jackhammer into your battered cunt with the sole intent of chasing his own orgasm. Even when you cry out from the oversensitivity of his lengthy cock bruising your sensitive insides, Ayato holds you still to keep you pinned helplessly underneath him as he falls over the edge of pleasure himself. Ayato curses under his breath, the sparks of pleasure in his gut explodes into fireworks when your nipples brush against his chest, further edging him past the precipice of his orgasm.

His cock twitches in your pillowy cunt when he cums so hard that Ayato swears he blacks out for a moment. Warm liquid gushes into your cunt as Ayato continues to remain balls deep inside you, letting you savor each jerk of his cock rubbing against your now white stained walls. “ Ahh– my love,” Ayato pants out, “I’m cumming in you, yeah? Y-Your going to take every last drop of my seed in that tight little pussy of yours. I’m going to fill you up.” His large hand splays over your soft stomach, pressing almost possessively against the slight bump of his cock underneath your skin.

Even when Ayato is done, he continues to thrust his sensitive cock inside of you, just so he can see the way his cum oozes out of your pretty cunt. Clearly, he has worn you out. Your eyelids are already fluttering shut when Ayato finally pulls out. The cold air feels almost stingingly painful against his sensitive cock, but when he sees how a strand of his cum is still connected from the tip of his cock to your pussy, Ayato has to take in a deep breath to regain his composure.

By the time he’s tucked his cock back into his yukata and smoothed his hair down, you are already fast asleep. The combined ministrations of his demands and the alcohol making you burrow deep into your pillow as your chest rises up and down slowly. Unable to help himself, Ayato scoops up his murky cum from in between your legs before sliding his index finger into your warm, fluttering hole. You whimper in response, your hips writhing weakly as Ayato chuckles.

Carefully, he pushes your hair back and plants a loving kiss on your forehead. You nuzzle into the warmth of his palm, making his heart skip a beat. Unable to help himself, his smiles curled upward. That face of yours . Truly, you are the reason his mind is so unnerved.

“I’ll have someone send you the morning after tea,” he murmurs softly to avoid rousing you from your slumber.

But in the blink of an eye, the affection in his pale gaze vanishes into thin air. All of a sudden, Ayato has retreated back into the hollow shell that is Lord Kamisato. With a final glance at your peacefully sleeping figure, Ayato pushes himself off the bed and places his bare feet against the hard wooden floors.

He simply pads silently to the shoji. Though he had left it ajar when he first carried you into the room, the gap has widened significantly. Without warning, Ayato slides it open to reveal a flushed faced Thoma, who falls onto his back with an ungraceful thump at the sudden intrusion.

Emerald green clashed with violet. Nonetheless, Thoma is the one who first breaks eye contact whilst Ayato continues to gaze down haughtily at his servant’s rumpled clothes and sticky hand.

“My lord,” Thoma mutters in response.

For a long moment, the silence between both men stretches to the point where it becomes almost stifling. Despite the hostility crackling in the air, you continue to slumber peacefully, utterly unaware of the splintering cracks in their once loyal, undying relationship.

Slowly, Thoma pushes himself back to his feet. Ayato’s jaw jumps a little when the blonde steps forward. Just as Thoma opens his mouth to say something, Ayato catches his angular jaw with his hand. The tips of his fingers are so frigidly cold that it feels like Ayato was searing each individual fingerprint onto Thoma’s skin. “M-My lord..?” Thoma splutters in surprise. Yet, Ayato remains eerily silent. He merely studies Thoma with a careful eye. Unbeknownst to Thoma, the war raging in his lord’s mind ever since the beginning of the night had returned to haunt him.

What is it that he truly desires?

In truth, Ayato had always valued loyalty above all else. And when he thinks of the way you're sleeping peacefully in his bed — an image that he wants to preserve forever, to keep you shackled to him, no matter what it takes— Ayato comes to a final decision.

“My dear Thoma.” Ayato smiles cruelly. It's a devastatingly beautiful smile that whispered of nothing but dark promises; a smile that causes Thoma’s knees to tremble in fear of what’s to come. “Perhaps it is time I be a little more… generous.”

[genshinarchives]

Gorou, Yandere Thoma / female reader ( Little Red Riding Hood AU ).

Synopsis: It’s his job to protect humans from vermin like him. So don’t be too upset.

Warnings: Blood, injury.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl and a young wolf, both of whom were very close with each other. Today, even though they only had a bit of time left before the sun sets, the two were meeting in secret again in the depths of the forest.

(Y/n) allowed a fond smile to crawl over her lips as an adorable little sparrow perched on her finger, all the while unaware that a pair of keen turquoise hues was observing her from a safe distance.

Gorou peered around the tree he was hiding behind, delicately holding a pink flower in his right hand. A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he watched the girl with the red hood and a straw basket hum a soft tune with the sparrow; she was so gentle and loving to animals, and he wanted to be by her side so he could protect her.

The big bad wolf of the forest was planning to confess to little red, and he hoped that his feelings were reciprocated.

Stepping out from his hiding spot behind the tree, Gorou nervously approached (y/n) while clutching the flower with both hands. They became clammy when she noticed him walking towards her, and the hooded girl then raised a hand to wave him over excitedly.

"Gorou, you're here!" she said, beaming. His blush darkened at the sight of her sweet smile, and he swallowed thickly as he shakily offered the flower to her. His unexpected gesture surprised her, but she gazed at him expectantly as if she knew what would entail.

Nobody was supposed to know about their secret meeting today, but the green eyes that blended in with the surrounding foliage seemed to state otherwise. The pink flower he had was crushed in his hand as he gazed at the pair in fury.

The village's precious little red was supposed to be his alone.

"(Y/n), I need to tell you something," Gorou began, making said girl blink, "I-" He cut himself off abruptly, his ears suddenly perking up as his bushy tail bristled in alarm. Before he could turn around to face the intruder, a loud gunshot resonated across the forest. (Y/n) watched in horror as Gorou was blown backwards.

"Gorou!" she cried, her red hood slipping off her head when she reached out to catch his falling body in her arms. A crimson patch began to form around the wound on his chest, and the wolf gritted his teeth in pain. Tears brimmed in (y/n)'s eyes as she carefully cradled him against her. "Gorou, hang in there!"

"Ugh..." He groaned, making a futile attempt to stay conscious. "(Y/n)..."

"That wolf is unexpectedly tenacious. I thought that one shot would have finished him off in an instant, but I guess that was a miscalculation on my part."

The sound of a twig snapping underneath someone's foot drew her attention. She then turned her head to look at the new person, and her eyes widened in shock when she recognised the handsome blond hunter of her village. Her breath was suddenly lodged in her throat, her gut twisting in fear and trepidation.

"M-Mr Thoma..." she said, a bead of cold sweat trickling down her forehead, "W-why did you..." Her arms tightened around the unconscious Gorou protectively when Thoma let out a low chuckle.

"Why, you ask? The answer is simple," he told her, aiming the muzzle of his hunting rifle at the wolf's head, "Protecting humans from vermin like him is my job. I was merely concerned about your safety, (y/n)."

"But Gorou isn't a bad wolf!" she angrily exclaimed.

"My love, you misunderstand me," he said, placing a hand on his chest. An unsettling smile appeared on his lips as a shadow was cast over his eyes. "As humans... a happy ending with me and you is only fitting, right?"

Taglist: @coco-goat-milk​ @m3gitsune​​ @melkxsh​ @thomathehousekeeper​

[tjthekpoplover]

Guys my question thing is up and I’ll be writing fanfics so here are the options you can choose from:

ALSO UPDATED APRIL 22 2022

Encanto:

Julieta Madrigal

Pepa Madrigal

Isabela Madrigal

Luisa Madrigal

The Craft:

Nancy Downs

Bonnie

Riverdale:

Cheryl Blossom

Veronica Lodge

Betty Cooper

Stranger Things:

Robin Buckley

Eleven

Mad Max

The Breakfast Club:

Allison Reynolds

Claire Standish

Heathers:

Veronica Sawyer

Heather Duke

RE8:

Alcina Dimitrescu

Donna Beneviento

Daniela Dimitrescu

Bela Dimitrescu

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Pretty Little Liars:

Spencer Hastings

Emily Fields

Hanna Martin

American Horror Story:

Violet Harmon (Murder House)

Lana Winters (Asylum)

Mary Eunice (Asylum)

Misty Day (Coven & Apocalypse)

Cordelia Goode (Coven & Apocalypse)

Bette And Dot Tattler (Freak Show)

Sally McKenna (Hotel)

Audrey Tindall (Roanoke)

Ally Mayfair-Richards (Cult)

Winter Anderson (Cult)

Mallory (Apocalypse)

Wilhemina Venable (Apocalypse)

Montana Duke (1984)

Margaret Booth (1984)

Xavier Plympton (1984)

Lark (Red Ride)

Ursula Khan (Red Tide)

Calico (Death Valley)

Hannah (NYC) Barbra (NYC)

Naruto:

Tsunade

Sasuke

Naruto

MHA:

Momo

Tsuyu

Todoroki

Seven Deadly Sins:

Merlin

Meldiodas

King

Ban

Elizabeth

Escanor

Diane

Gowther

Clue The Movie (1985):

Mrs.White

Ms.Scarlet

DC:

Rachel Roth/Raven

Garfield Logan/Beast Boy

Crazy Jane Harley Quinn

The Conjuring:

Lorraine Warren

Drew Thomas

IT:

Beverly Marsh

Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie Tozier

Bill Denbrough

Stanley Uris

Ben Hanscom

Alice In Wonderland:

Alice

The White Queen

Scream:

Tatum Riley

Sidney Prescott

MPHFPC:

Alma Peregrine

Dark Shadows:

Dr.Julia Hoffman

Angelique Bouchard

Oceans 8:

Tammy

Lou Miller

Rose

Daphne Kluger

Debbie Ocean Marvel:

Natasha Romanoff Wanda Maximoff Agatha Harkness Sylvie Laufeydottir Jennifer Walters Thena Kate Bishop Yelena Belvola Peggy Carter Hela

Things I Will Be Writing About:

NSFW

Headcanons

SFW

Fem!Reader

Male!Reader

GN!Reader

MTF!Reader

FTM!Reader

Any LGBTQIA+ Things

G!P Reader

Things I Will Not Be Writing About:

Yandere (just don’t know how to write it)

Cheating

Underage dating

Divorce

P.S if this doesn’t make sense it’s because I’m tired

Also Ik i keep updating it I just keep forgetting to add things to it 😭

[dearestones]

Portrait of the Hooded Figure (Yandere! Brian Thomas/Hoodie x Artsy! Reader)

Warnings: Yandere character, implied kidnapping, possessive/obsessive behavior.

@mice-on-venus-things Request: Hi could I request a yandere masky or hoodie with an artsy s/o pls :)

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.

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Brian loved watching you sketch in your notebook.

The first couple of times you had caught him staring at you, his eyes glittering, but face surprisingly blank, you had assumed that he wanted your attention. It had been a while since you had established a relationship with him, but there were still times that you were flustered to know that he was yours.

Somewhat.

You were still apprehensive concerning Brian’s… extracurricular activities and his affection for you.

(And by affection, you clearly meant everlasting devotion bordering on obsession).

Regardless, whenever you seemed disturbed or uncomfortable by his staring, Brian’s eyes would furrow a little, which only heightened your embarrassment. However, your fear would be assuaged by what happened next.

He would always offer you a kind, but muted smile before pointing at your sketchbook once again. It was a calm, but almost childish gesture. Draw for him, it seemed to say. Relax and don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.

And well, when you’re stuck with a man who you know has been affiliated with circumstances not appropriate for polite company, you couldn’t help but acquiesce to his requests.

Sometimes, you would draw people. Other times, fancy landscapes and vistas would pique your interest and you would hasten your fingers and search the recesses for your imagination to better align your perceived vision and what you eventually drew on paper. Sometimes, a bout of madness would take over and you would draw abstract, almost nonsensical figures and shapes to bide your time.

Brian loved all of them.

In particular, he happened to like it whenever you drew your nonsensical shapes and fever dreams. There was meaning there, he had said. A meaning that you couldn’t quite grasp. You tried questioning him, but he would wave you off and putter around his editing software on his aged laptop.

(You tried asking a couple times what he was doing, but you never did get a straight answer out of him).

Whatever the case, you kept drawing because you had nothing else to do.

(There was nothing that you could do… especially after he had taken you away).

But there were times… times when night would come and you would find yourself itching for your colored pencils, your charcoal, or your paints. You had to draw…

You had to draw him.

Him. The man who had taken you away from your previous life, had forced you to remain submissive and docile, and was still encouraging the one thing that challenged you and kept you alive.

You wanted to draw Brian.

But how should you draw him?

Would you prefer to draw a mere caricature? Or would a realistic depiction do him justice?

The thing about drawing specific things—like people, in this instance—you needed a reference. You’ve heard of people posing for others, but you weren’t quite sure if Brian would be willing to stay still for you. He was the quiet sort of man, observant too, but the way he would stare.

It was unsettling.

And so, for a few anxiety inducing moments, you merely wondered if you should just picture him in your mind’s eye. Memory would serve as your muse.

You put your pencil to paper and—

Nothing.

For some odd reason, you somehow lost all memory of what Brian looked like. Were you suffering from artist’s block? Has your memory become faulty somehow?

You struggled for a few moments before settling on drawing something else.

Unfortunately, Brian, ever the watchful observer, picked up on your distress and walked towards you, a concerned look in his dark eyes. Apprehensive now, you practically drop your pencil atop your notebook, your breathing hitching in confusion as Brian sits in front of you.

“You know, you can draw me anytime you want,” he offered nonchalantly. “All you have to do is ask.”

You swallowed hard and nodded before picking up your pencil once more.

“Is… is it okay if I draw you?”

Brian smiled and said, “Of course.”

And then you drew him—him, the figure in your nightmares and dreams, the hooded figure in the woods, and the one who held your heart.

The drawing came out better than you expected.

.

.

.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

CREEPYPASTA MASTERLIST

[detectivedonut]

Duskwood Theory:

Currently my no.1 suspect is Richy and I'm gonna list my theories and suspicions about him here (Might contain spoilers if you haven't caught up with episode 7).

At the very beginning Thomas mentions that when he went to Hannah's apartment to check on her, Richy was already there. He said his garage was 5 minutes away so he didn't question anything. What if Richy was there for another reason? Like maybe he wanted to cover up evidence or something?? And since his garage was close no one would suspect him?

After Dan's car accident, he told us that he suspects that someone tampered with his brakes and that caused the accident. That day he was supposed to take Jessy out to dinner but got stood up. If you remember, Richy somewhat admitted that he might have a thing for Jessy. So what if Richy found out about Jessy going out with Dan and got jealous and decided to harm him? I also remembered that, when Jessy was leaving to get ready for her date she didn't find Richy at the garage. Maybe he left early to stalk them and plan what he was going to do? If the man without a face was to harm Dan, he would've been marked first. Dan told us that the parking lot was dark and the player thought of two things- either the culprit would have a hard time tampering the car in the dark, or it gave them the benefit to not be seen cause it was dark. If it was the second option, then the person must have really good mechanical skills to do that in the dark. The only person who we know that has mechanical skills is Richy. So there is a possibility that he was the one that tampered with his car. Also, after Richy inspected Dan's car he tells him that nothing was wrong with it. He even says that the accident was "all your fault" which I thought was really weird for him to say like that. It's almost like he was saying, "you were stealing my girl so it's your own fault that I had to almost kill you". After Dan went offline he said "Sorry. Somehow." Why would he say it like that? Because he was guilty for lying to him about nothing being wrong with the car? Or guilty for almost killing him? Also, Dan's accident doesn't really seem to fit the picture, does it? Maybe because it was never part of the plan to harm Dan out of the blue and Richy's jealousy got the best of him. (Yandere much, Richy?)

Richy went to the darehouse and called the player. But why all of a sudden? Why did he feel the need to tell us about this dare and show us the house? He knew being in the woods was dangerous, yet he went there all alone and called the player out of all people. And then when he goes back to the garage he finds the sign of the raven on his garage wall. What if he drew the sign himself? What if he drew the sign first, went to the darehouse and then called the player? That way no one would suspect him? At that time the only people who were researching about the legend were Jessy, the player and Richy. One thing I also noticed, and someone else mentioned this before, is that Richy's story of his childhood trauma is very similar to the story of the man without a face. Maybe there's a connection there?🤔

It seems like Richy is trying to put the blame on Phil. He somehow thinks that Phil might've been the one that marked him. Right after that incident, he showed us a screenshot of his conversation with Phil and tells us that Phil threatened him/said something weird. But if you actually read the conversation, nothing about Phil's text seems threatening or weird. Richy also told Cleo and Thomas that the police found a matchbox from the Aurora at the scene where the dead body was found. The question is, where the hell did he get that information? Because he never mentioned going to the police or the police contacting him. And when Thomas first went to the police to confirm if the body was Hannah's, he wasn't told about a matchbox or anything being found. The police didn't tell him anything. So how did Richy find out about a matchbox being found? Unless he made that up to make Phil a suspect? And even if the police did find a matchbox, anyone could've bought the matchbox from the bar. But Richy is making it seem like it belonged to Phil specifically. If you also notice, most of the suspicion towards Phil is not coming from any solid evidence, but only from what Richy is telling us. But why is he blaming Phil? Does he have some kind of beef with Phil? Or is it because Phil treats Jessy like shit and he doesn't like that? (Again, yandere much, Richy?)

When we question Richy about his last meeting with Hannah he says that he didn't notice anything strange about her behavior. He continues to explain everything he remembered that day. He even remembered the exact amount of tip Hannah gave him and the exact spot in her car where she kept her change. The thing is, his explanation was very detailed. Usually people who are lying or hiding something give a little too much detail to make their story seem believable. They ramble on about irrelevant stuff and give little to no detail about the important things. When Richy was answering our questions there was no hesitation or pause in his replies. It's almost like he planned out everything he was going to say beforehand.

Him being attacked in the forest..... something about it just doesn't seem right. It looked very suspicious, almost like a set up. Because we know that when the kidnapper stalked Cleo and attacked Jessy, he showed himself to the player. But when Richy got attacked, we didn't see or hear anyone. And wasn't he the one that told us to stay away from the forest? So why the hell did he go into the forest alone to follow the screaming woman? And we didn't even hear any screaming when he called us. When he fell to the ground, he held his phone towards himself and showed us that he was bleeding from the mouth with a very weird expression on his face, almost saying like, "look, I'm gravely injured because of you. This is why you should've listened to the kidnapper and stay out of this". If they don't find his body in the next episode that will confirm my suspicion of him either being the man without a face himself, or being involved in Hannah's kidnapping.

Out of everyone in the group, Richy is the one we know about the least. He seems as open as Jessy on first glance, but he's actually much more closed off and mysterious. Dan tells us that Richy is always busy with his work. There aren't that many customers at the garage, so what exactly is Richy busy with all the time? Even Jessy mentioned that she didn't know what Richy liked to do when we asked her about him. I mean, he seemed like a very close friend so why would she not know much about him? She even said that they never knew how Richy felt most of the time cause he always seemed like the guy who's always smiling and cracking jokes.

The thing that I currently want to know the most is, what exactly did Richy say to Jessy about the player?? He's the one that told us to stay in the beginning, yet the next minute he tells Jessy not to trust us.

As much as I love Richy, the things he's doing are very questionable. Like, I can't help but think how suspicious he is right now. (Even when he might be out there bleeding to death in the forest😫)

[kneamet]

Thomas Sharpe says to the portrait of reader that he has always loved, loved and will love her. He says he will not accept her engagement to Count Harrison. She belongs to him. The next day, reader wakes up in a strange room tied to an armchair. She pretends to be asleep. Thomas is talking to her now.

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere, kidnapping, jealousy

Word Count: 2439

Character: Thomas Sharpe/reader

Summary: Thomas never wanted anything more than to marry you. When he learns of your future marriage to the hated earl Garrison, he knows that something must be done.

POV Thomas

Thomas knew he couldn't afford to be silent. He'd been silent for too long, and now was the moment to snap. He won't let anyone steal you from him.

Sharpe had never expected to find the love of his lost life. That he could find someone he would love and who would love him. A girl who would take care of him, and he would protect her from people.

But it just so happens that Thomas was born in a place where your right to vote doesn't count. Especially with Lucille. He loved her, he really did, but she probably didn't understand that it was more a need for a person than love, because Sharpe could hardly survive alone in this huge house, which also needs to be provided for. And her obsession with him, which Thomas hated, was also very annoying and dripping on his brain. It was very unpleasant to be thought of as some kind of object, thanks to which you can fulfill your desires. And these were used by all the girls in his entourage.

Parents, as Thomas noted, for the most part also did not care about the emotional outbursts of children and their hobbies. Well, why care about it? They're just kids. They can also be raised by nannies and teachers who were hired.

And the women... All those moments, all the things that his late sister controlled, mostly related to the women he married and later received money from. And he didn't particularly like it. Why is she controlling him? Why him?

However, even in the largest darkness, you can find a small corner that is dedicated to light. And that light for Thomas was you. His sweetest, most beloved, and most incredible girlfriend. He would pick up so many epithets, metaphors, and comparisons with you, fearing that even they could not describe all your beauty.

He smiled dreamily. It was so nice to think and fantasize about how you would live together, you would caress him, and he would stroke your soft, honey-scented hair, telling you how much he loved you and cherished you. But what was the point of thinking about it if they were going to be together?

Thomas looked down and passed his gentle hand, which had no bruises or wounds, for which he in turn had once been scolded by Mr. Cushing, Edith's father, perhaps the only woman who could attract his attention a little and almost even accept that he could not marry you, but his thoughts quickly dissipated then.

***

"Have I ever loved anyone before you?" Thomas spoke in a low voice that echoed small and tiny in the walls of the dilapidated but pleasant-looking room. He turned his slow gaze to the beautiful Edith, who lay beside him on the slightly stiff bed, looking straight into his eyes, blue as clear water.

Thomas sighed. He didn't want to talk about you. His favorite girl, who helped him believe in himself. I knew Edith wouldn't like it.

"Yes, I did once -" Sharpe began again in a whisper, lightly squeezing the girl's light hand in his. He did not want to share his thoughts and feelings with others, because he knew that they would betray him. Otherwise, they will use it against you, which was very insulting.

Thomas looked at Edith again with a lost look, a girl who was different from the others and who might soon be dead. Damn it. He didn't think she was beautiful. She might be pretty, but there was nothing remarkable about her. Well, maybe it was just the beautiful eyes and the unusual mole above the soft lips that she didn't even try to cover up. Perhaps it was the openness that drew him to her.

But no. No, no, no, no. He won't fall for that pretty face and possibly witty mind. He only loved you. Only her flower, which fortunately her sister did not know about.

***

Thomas shook his head quickly. He didn't care now. He and Edith had never been in love. A hobby? "yes, perhaps. But no more. He can't do more than that. After all, all his steely heart and soft soul belonged to you, his childhood friends.

Childhood friends. It's been so long... Memories of his past childhood flashed through his mind as if they were the wind that tries to impress a person. His most vivid memory of you and your current fate was when you came to visit them in Crimson Peak, as your parents were busy with his parents and spent time with Thomas while Lucille was doing something else.

That's probably what influenced him back then. After all, if you hadn't been there at that time. At that difficult moment, when he was, if I may say so correctly, beaten with his stick by his mother, with whom she always went, and even connected the rod after.

And Thomas didn't know why. What did he do wrong then? What's the big deal?

He sighed and touched the small framed portrait with his palm. Before the portrait of his favorite flower. His favorite girl, who probably doesn't even know what he thinks about her right now. He couldn't remember when the portrait had come to him. If an artist came to him who painted to order and he had a photo that his beloved sent him, then it was the portrait that sent his flower.

She was so beautiful in that picture. Her light, slightly curled hair fell gently over her shoulders; her lips smiled a soft smile that wished everyone well; her nose was slightly tilted up, but it did not show disgust or contempt; her beautiful, transparent eyes looked at him intently.

Suddenly, a fleeting but painful tear ran down Sharpe's cold cheek, and with a quick swipe, it fell to the carpet, then dissolved into water.

He always liked to imagine you — the most joyful and smiling princess-marrying him of your own accord. He has so often, since that very moment in childhood, imagined how he would put a ring on your fragile finger, which would symbolize your love.

"I loved you, my flower..."

It's true. His love was always there. She started the exodus as a child and never stopped.

"... I love you..."

But still an engagement. Yes, the damned engagement party you invited him to, apparently thinking Thomas would be thrilled that you were marrying the Earl of Harrison. But no, he already hated the hell out of him. This dirty man who was unworthy of you and probably only used you.

"... And I will always love you..."

He would not allow this engagement to happen. That's not why Thomas waited, waiting for you to fall in love with him. However, he is tired of waiting and hinting to you that he loves you. You belong to him.

"After all, my flower belongs to me."

The words spoken by the portraits were immediately swallowed up by the dark house, absorbing them.

***

POV You

Oh, how you loved Earl James Harrison. He was the very person who, at a difficult time for you, your family and your family situation in general, pulled you out of such a blizzard. He was the one who helped you.

James was probably the most attractive person you've ever seen. And both in terms of external parameters, and in terms of his spiritual and mental abilities. Being very well-read and intelligent, he always found moments in which you can learn something new. Yes, it's no secret, you both learned new things thanks to each other, because each had a field in which he understood.

And when he proposed to you, you couldn't help but agree, because you knew that he loved you just as much as you loved him.

If you were a writer, the kind of writer who delves into novels, describing the tumultuous lives of people, revealing all the mysterious secrets, then you would definitely describe your relationship as very fickle, unfathomable, and possibly equal. After all, he did not humiliate you, did not lower your abilities, but treated you as an equal person, which greatly impressed you.

Very handsome was your lover: dark, brown hair that was usually scattered in a careless hairstyle, brown eyes that were carefully watching what was happening and usually beautiful clothes. Beautiful clothes. Oh, you should have one.

***

"I love you so much, James," you murmured sleepily, resting your head on the man's strong shoulder and closing your eyes. You could feel him chuckle.

"I love you too, honey," he said after a few seconds. You no longer heard it, because you were in a perfect state of sleep. In a state where you can rest.

He never stopped looking at you, smiling a gentle smile

***

Suddenly, your wrists felt very uncomfortable. There was a persistent feeling that they were rubbing against something. But what could it be? It felt like a rope woven into several knots.

And the smell... The smell was also completely different from the one in James ' room, where you went to sleep. There was the smell of old books and tart milk, and here there was the smell of clay mixed with the smell of some metal. No, if Jim didn't decide to start making toys and drag you to the workshop, then fine. But there was a smell of something else, too. Something is unclear.

You opened your eyes a little, trying to see the place you were in. You couldn't have been kidnapped, could you? Or could they? And who could it be, if we follow this theory?

However, nothing surprised you. You were in a not particularly large room, which by its own condition was basically normal, only one thing did not paint it, so it was the smell and appearance of dust that lay on the shelves with old books. You flinched a little. A large bed stood beside you, strewn with a small number of rose petals, and covered with a dark corduroy coverlet. There were large windows nearby. Does the theory about your kidnapping include that if you jump out, you'll break every bone in your body? Or were you on the first floor?"

At the bottom, or rather the floor of the room, was decorated with a large dirty carpet with large drawings of incomprehensible shapes. It seems to have been a spontaneous fantasy. Although you could see the flowers there, too. Across from the bed was a large wardrobe that probably contained all of your captor's clothes.

"I've been waiting for this moment for so long!" an eerily familiar voice exclaimed. Such a soft, husky baritone. He was definitely familiar to you.

When you heard the voice, you immediately closed your eyes. I'd rather pretend to be asleep than face the man who kidnapped you." No, you'll talk to him later, but not now. Now is not the time.

Suddenly, you heard the floorboards creak beside you and someone blocked out the light that was continuously pouring out of the window in a cold stream.

"I love you so much, my flower," a voice murmured in your ear, barely audible. His heart was pounding at a furious rate now, replaying in his brain the words that the man had spoken earlier. Who is he? What is it about? Why had he waited for this moment? Why does he love you? Do you know each other at all?

"I know that you love me as much as I love you. I know you hate that damned Earl Garrison, and you want to marry me because you only love me."

What? You tried to focus on your thoughts, trying to remember what that familiar voice was. What kind of person would dare to do something as audacious as kidnapping?

"I loved you. I've loved you since the day you comforted me in this house, protected me from my parents, and showed me your concern... I never forgot about you."

All of a sudden, you feel like you've been electrocuted. Protection, comfort, care. The words echoed in your brain. You didn't listen to the man just now, because you realized who it was.

Thomas. Thomas Sharpe. Your first person to open up to. To whom she confided all her secrets. You didn't really know him as a person, only as a child, as children, you crossed paths a couple of times, and only because your parents and his parents collaborated.

And nothing else. What kind of love is he talking about? What do his thoughts know, which he seeks to convey? Why did he think it was love? Why not a less powerful feeling?

***

The clock ticked. They gave off a slight tinkle that broke the silence that had arisen in the room. Only the soft whispers of the children trying to comfort each other could be heard. They were quiet, almost inaudible.

"I'll always help you, Thomas, just call me," you muttered to yourself, turning to the boy and scratching his dark head with your thin hand. Trying to comfort him, to show him that you care.

***

But for this to happen — by kidnapping, by declaring love, and by binding — love simply could not arise. What kind of love is in a person's need for another person, you just didn't understand. What was the point? Unclear.

"I know that you have belonged to me since the day you comforted me..."

You didn't want to hear Thomas mutter about it. If you had been bolder, you would have screamed, trying to escape, but there was no way out now. It is better to obey him. Yes, the logic was wrong at the moment, since there was no need to think like that. It is better to resist than not to try to do anything.

"...I know you belong to me..."

No, you don't belong to anyone! Since when does he want you so badly? After all, as you remember, Thomas was quite a quiet, calm and peaceful boy. And what happened now? Why is he acting like this? What does he want? Love? So why would he fall in love with someone else?

"...And I know that you will belong to me..."

The only person you'll ever belong to is James, and that's only because he belongs to you. No more than that. Doesn't that include negotiated equality?

You felt someone's soft lips touch your lips, which were very thin, but pleasant. Spiced and slightly wounded, apparently bitten, Thomas's lips were not bad

"...Because we love each other, my flower..."

[nais-nook]

Sawyer - Pt 3

(Hey there! You may be liking/reblogging something without links to new pieces I may have written for this character, just letting you know in case you’re interested in reading more!)

Imagine writing a Sawyer part but he doesn’t show up. That’s so like Sawyer lmao. I promise he shall return. Sawyer belongs to @yandere-flower​

~***~

Part 1,  Part 2

Summary:  You get rescued, though the person who landed you in this predicament is nowhere to be found.

Pairing: Male x Female Reader.

Words: 2402.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Swearing, Violence (and Blood).

Your fingers were numb, and yet you still felt the burn in your wrist and the thousands upon thousands of pin pricks running up and down your arms. The strained muscles in your back and legs let you know you had been in this position for longer than anyone should, and despite your body begging for release, the restraints that held you wouldn’t budge. You couldn’t see anything, not with the damp strip of whatever it was wrapped tightly around your eyes. 

In the darkness you could make out vague whispers - one distinctly nasally, alongside a much gruffer and scratchier voice. Whether the stale stench of cigarettes and alcohol was coming from them or not, you didn’t know. There was a scuff of boots. What you could only assume was broken glass was scraped aside along the floor, then the scrap of material was ripped off your face.

You winced, eyes watering as they adjusted to the harsh light spilling in from the ajar door. Your years of training did not help as bile began to rise in your throat, burning and bitter. The beat of your heart grew so intense it was all you could do to not focus on it.

The man crouching in front of you was tan, with greying hair and wrinkles to match.

“Where’s the white-haired Japanese prick?” 

You were taken aback, expecting him to be the one that sounded like he smoked a pack a day. He was the nasally sounding one, speaking as if he had a stuffy nose.

“I - what?”

He moved in extremely close. You tried not to gag. “What, you don’t speak English, sweetheart?”

Sawyer. They were definitely talking about Sawyer. Why were you being asked about Sawyer?

“I- I’m sorry, I-”

Before you could utter another word, something metal was pressed against your temple. You were suddenly very conscious of every slight movement you made, of the air being sucked out of the room. Cold dread ran rampant in your veins.

Calm, calm, panicking won’t help you.

It was much easier thought than done.

“Where. Is. The tattooed dude. With the piercings. You know who we’re talking about.”

“Sawyer.” The lanky one standing in the doorway spoke. “Cauley.”

“Who’s that?”

Lies, lies, all lies. The smell of the room suffocated you. Rust and damp and foul. Your legs trembled, against your will.

“Listen girly,” the thing at your temple pressed harder, “don’t act stupid. We know you patched him up after he had a scrap in that alleyway.”

The man at the door sighed, picking at the glass of its shattered window. “We just need to know where he is. We’ll leave you alone after that, alright?”

Even if they were telling the truth, and they would let you go after you told them, you had nothing to tell them. Sawyer had made good on his promise to never see you again, so the fact that these people even knew you were barely associated would have been baffling. If you weren't so terrified, that was.

“I don’t know,” you answered, voice shaking despite your honesty.

“Try again.” 

It was a blade pressed against you, and the bastard holding it had drawn blood. Searing pain ripped across your skin. You almost retched. You hoped and prayed at the very least the blade was clean.

Your words tumbled out, each one more frantic than the last. “I swear, I don’t. I patched him up and he left. He could be halfway across the world by now for all I know.”

“See the thing is, we have a score to settle.”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand.”

The blade travelled from your temple to your neck, its tip dragging along your skin. You leaned back as far as you could. From the glimpse you caught, the blade wasn’t rusted, but you knew that meant jack shit on whether it was actually clean.

“Someone very important died because of Sawyer.” The older man mumbled.

“W-what? Who?”

He pressed the knife right up against your carotid artery. Tears blurred your vision. “Ah, see, you’re not privy to that information.” 

“I’m telling you I have no idea where he is.”

 The one fiddling with the broken glass looked straight at you. “He didn’t say anything, hm? Didn’t send anything?”

He had sent you something. Flowers. But the address on that was probably fake, assuming Sawyer had some working brain cells left in that head of his. 

A hand wrapped around your throat and you flew into a blind panic.

“Flowers. He sent me flowers, but I threw away the card, I don’t know where it is.”

The gangly man nodded; eyes fixed on a point you couldn’t discern. “So, he did survive after you were done with him. Interesting.”

They… thought he had died? They thought he had died. You just told them he was alive and well.

Shit, shit, shit -

“So -”

A loud thump echoed throughout the room, its source right outside the door. You didn’t want another stranger walking into the room, not when you were so close to passing out. The room tilted.

The gangly one at the door slipped what looked to be a gun from his belt (a terrible place to keep a gun, really). It did nothing to stop the person outside from barrelling in and completely knocking him out in a matter of seconds. The man who was previously holding a knife to your neck seemingly manifested a gun out of nowhere and pointed it at… Thomas?

It was Thomas. 

You flinched, expecting a gunshot to tear right through Thomas’ chest. Instead the bullet that pierced the air came from the hallway and landed squarely in your captive’s shoulder. His cry was shrill in your ears, but even that couldn’t distract you from the sight that was Ambrose, her hair tied back and face ghastly as she stalked in. She landed a stomp on the man's head. He fell silent.

“Hey.” It was Thomas, fiddling with the restraints around your wrists. “You okay?”

“No,” you choked. From the corner of your eye you witnessed Ambrose drag the taller of the two unconscious men through the door and shattered glass. You could have broken down into tears right then and there. From fear and relief.

Thomas stopped for a moment, and he pressed his forehead against yours. You felt a little more at ease when he whispered, “You don’t have to be.”

Your wrists were rubbed raw and your joints cracked when you were helped up. You nearly toppled over at the sudden chorus of gunfire and yelling from below.

“Sorry about your ankles hun, but you’re going to have to run.” Ambrose frowned, head tilting towards the direction of the hallway.

“Run?” 

Thomas stroked your hair back, face shrouded with sympathy. “I’d carry you, but that would just make both of us a bigger target.”

“Don’t fret, Tommy and I’ll be right next to you.” 

Ambrose swivelled her foot right as someone tried to barge through the door, flipping them effortlessly into a pile of crumpled beer cans. With a swift kick of her steel toed boots the man went still. Immediately she reached for you, fingers wrapping around your upper arm and steered you down the hall. You didn’t miss how she completely avoided your damaged wrists.

It was darker. Much darker than the room you were tied in moments ago, and you had to hold onto Ambrose with your aching fingers to steady yourself. Ambrose approached the end of the hallway, the dim glow revealing a set of stairs. The fighting was deafening here. Gunshots and shouts reverberated through the narrow passage as you struggled to keep your breathing steady. Thomas, who had been padding behind, silently advanced in front of you, giving a hand signal you didn’t understand before creeping down the stairs.

“I know.” Ambrose gave your arm a little squeeze. “Just pretend you’re at some sort of intensive surgery. Nothing will happen if you do what we say, okay?”

“Okay…”

The faint light from the stairwell made Ambrose’s face look younger, softer. And then you remembered she wasn’t that much older than you to begin with. What caused her to fall into such a violent line of work, you didn’t know. Maybe if you both got out of this alive you would ask her.

Tentatively, you stepped down the stairs, wincing at the spike of pain that shot up your leg as you placed weight on your ankles. Ambrose’s arm was immediately at your waist, and she supported you as best she could down the uneven steps. As you got closer you could pick out the thump of things being thrown amongst the yelling. Thomas was crouching on the bottom step, face serious.

Ambrose drew you closer still, her voice hushed as she said, “Listen, we’re gonna have to do some running and ducking, okay? Just don’t let go of me.” Thomas threw up another hand sign before disappearing into the fray. “We just gotta wait for a little while.”

A little while is probably what it was, but it felt like the moment stretched on for an eternity. Then, out of nowhere, three shots rang out in the mess, clear as day. Ambrose didn’t say a word, jerking you forward so roughly you nearly tripped over yourself. 

A warehouse - you were in a warehouse, dodging and weaving through gargantuan shipment crates as Ambrose pushed and pulled you through bits of debris and rubbish. You couldn’t take it all in even if you tried. You caught a glimpse of Thomas in the corner, wrestling someone carrying switchblades. Gasps of moon rays filtered through the broken beams in the ceiling.

“Eyes forward (Y/n), you’re going to fall,” Ambrose hissed, pressing you flush against a metal container as someone was thrown right past you both. Whether they were friend or foe you were unsure.

The noise was giving you a headache amongst other things, and if it weren’t for the adrenaline and Amrbose’s insistent tugging you could have fallen asleep right there. Exhausting was seeping into your veins like you were on a drip. It felt like a miracle when Ambrose was able to steer you to a door, before shoving you through it.

“Get into a car, any of the grey ones, hurry.”

The door was flung shut.

Why, why, why - 

Why were they risking everything to come and get you? You did nothing for them. You had nothing to give them. 

Something heavy slammed against the other side of the door. You could barely hear the sound of your soles hitting the pavement over the noise as you scrambled to the cars, climbing into the nearest one. 

“... Riley?”

The door wasn’t even shut properly before the tyres squealed and the car jerked forwards. You clung to everything and anything. Every turn of the car caused you to lurch against the seats and doors.

“Get your belt on!” He veered right. Hard. “Did you not hear me?!”

“I’m trying!”

You finally managed to clip the buckle in just as he swerved right again.

“Riley you’re going to kill me!”

“Shut the fuck up, or I will kill you on purpose!”

A digital ringing resounded in the car. Riley’s hand shot out, grabbing one of the many mobiles strapped to the dashboard. You saw his mouth move in the rear-view mirror but could barely hear the words spoken over the roar of the engine and tyres.

“Oi, (Y/n),” he yelled, giving you a passing glance in the mirror, “hold on to something.”

What?

If you were finding it difficult to keep your insides where they belonged before, you were definitely struggling now. Riley paid no mind to the speed bumps dotted along the road, skidded around corners at a speed you knew was illegal, and even forced the car down narrow alleyways.

“Riley! Why are you driving like a maniac?!”

“I’m trying to get you to the drop off point!”

“Drop off point?!”

You barely managed to process what he said as you were flung right against the window. You caught a flash of the menacing smile plastered onto Riley’s face as he gripped the wheel and gear stick in terrifying confidence.

He yelled over the engine, “Listen, we’re hitting a tunnel soon, and you’re gonna have to jump!”

“What?!”

Your head was spinning.

“As soon as I tell you to go, you fling that door open as far as it goes, and you fucking jump!”

“I’ve never done anything like that before! I’m going to die!”

“Well, if we get caught, we’re both fucking dead!”

This is it, you thought, mind a flurry of too many things with too little time to sort them out. I’m going to actually die, and my family will have no idea where I went or who took me or -

Cars identical to the one you were strapped in tailing behind Riley’s erratic driving. Your car slowed down slightly as it entered a tunnel, plunging you into darkness. Your heart lurched in your throat. 

A hand on your leg pulled you out of your panicked stupor. Riley’s green eyes were lit up by the lights on the dashboard. He stared at you in the mirror, his face deathly calm. The world quietened down immediately.

“You open the door as far as it goes, you jump at an angle away from the car - there’ll be a grassy patch so the landing won’t be as rough - and then you pull all your limbs in and roll. Land on your shoulder if you can. You’ll be fine.”

And then all the sounds came crashing back.

“Someone will pick you up, just hide near the entrance of the tunnel until they arrive! Ready?!”

“No, I’m not,” you whispered, hands shaking like mad as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Wait for it.”

Your knuckles blanched as you gripped the handle.

“Now!”

You flung yourself out of the car.

You could have sworn you heard something crack as you landed on your shoulder. Your skin was on fire as you skidded across the grass. You pulled back just as the grey cars sped by, one after another.

And despite being exhausted to the brink of collapsing, you still managed to drag yourself to hide in the shadows on the tunnel.

All that was left to do was wait.

[girlmeetsliv3]

Price of Prejudice

~ Inspired by Pride & Prejudice ; Requested ~

Kim Seokjin is a man with the grace of a dancer, face of an angel, and enough wealth to keep several governments afloat. It is in his nature to be entirely narcissistic and classist - a man of his nature can afford to be. (There are few things that Seokjin cant afford.) When you're invited to the annual 'buja' ball, you hope to find an eligible bachelor to wed and live happily ever after with. What you end up with is a crazed man willing to do anything to have you bear his name and with a ring on your finger.

Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation and abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Please enjoy.

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“Have you heard? Surely you must have. It’s all over town.” Tzuyu whispered underneath the white sheets that covered both of you. The outline of her face could be seen through the candlelight that pierced through the comforter, but her beautiful features were hidden away. “You know I’ve never been one to focus on rumors. Not the boring ones at least.” The two of you giggled before hushing each other. Your mother was sure to throw a fit if she discovered the two of you still awake at this time. “A Mr. Jeon has come into town. Mother convinced father to invite him to the town ball.” Her smile was wide, smile lines forming and eyes lighting up with excitement. “Well then, we must make sure to look our best then. Shan’t we?” A silent agreeance formed between the two of you as another uncontrollable giggle escaped your lips. No wonder all your younger sisters had been so excitable this morning; not to mention your mother. Her nerves hadn’t calmed down since the last ‘suitable’ suitor Mr. Richards left the town several months ago. Taking with him any hope of marriage and salvation with him. Tzuyu poked her head from under the sheets and with a puff of her lips let out a soft wind that overpowered the candle’s flame, plunging the room into darkness. You let your eyes flutter shut as your body relaxed into the soft bed below. A brief thought passed through your mind, a fading one, as exhausting overcame you and sleep began to weigh you down until it dragged you to unconsciousness. I hope everything goes well tomorrow…please let me meet someone…

The entire day had been spent preparing for the ball. Corsets were tightened and your best ribbons were taken out to be worn tonight. Your mother had spent all morning coaching Yeri and Nancy on how to be ladylike and respectful – as if that could reel them in. Tzuyu had busied herself with planning her attire for tonight and you decided best to leave her to it; she carried the most pressure after all. So you found yourself strolling around the perimeter of the Longhorn estate with your head buried into the latest publishing of First Impressions. Your mother had previously warned you that you tended to get into your novels, but you tended to disregard her advice. Once you raised your head and saw that you had, in fact, walked all the way from Longbourn to Netherfield. Great just my luck. You had every intention of walking back until you noticed the carriage standing at the entrance of the estate. Walking closer you noticed the doors open and two gentlemen step out. Even from a distance, you could perceive how attractive they were from their saunter, posture, and clothing. One stood out far more than the other, his ragged hair being blown by the wind as the ruffles on his white muslin shirt lightly moved. He looked like something out of those ridiculous romance novels Nancy insisted on reading – a true dandy. Perhaps he was Mr. Jeon or a friend? It didn’t matter for you felt your feet pick up as you began to race home, anxious and anticipating meeting the mysterious man who was sure to appear at the ball.

A loud booster of music, conversations, and the tapping of shoes against the hardwood floor echoed around the wooden manor. Its infrastructure weary and old, but it was the only place in all of town that could manage to fit most of its inhabitants with room to spare. It was a snug fit, none of it mattered when the alcohol and adrenaline poured through everyone’s veins. Tzuyu, Nancy, and you have spun around and ‘wooed’ by the men you danced with. Each trying his luck, every so often all of you would make eye contact and laugh at your own private joke. One of the men was not aware of it. Your attention was captured by the man in front of you a Mr. Coleen or Collins, you couldn’t quite recall. Not much was distinguishable about him, except for his height. He was not short for a man, but he was much shorter than you. “Miss Bennet. That was a lovely dance. Almost as lovely as you look tonight.” You smiled, a politely bowed not missing the way your mother watched the interaction from the corner of your eye. “Thank you, Mr. Colleens. It was my pleasure.” He seemed enthusiastic about your response for he opened his mouth quite widely to speak but was interrupted by the doors opening.

Everything stopped at that moment. The crowd parting for the two men to walk through, you recognized them instantly: Mr. Jeon and his friend. Now at a closer range, it dawned on you that their beauty was incomprehensible, no image you conjured up in their mind could do them justice. Tzuyu nudged you slightly, the two of you bowing when they passed by you. You didn’t miss the way the shorter man’s eyes lingered on Tzuyu, a light flush adorning his cheeks. When they reached the center of the room, the music resumed as did the activities. “Girls. Girls. Come here.” Your mother beckoned you over, the four of you lining up beside her as she waited her turn to speak with the newcomers. “Oh, where is your father? I swear if he –” A sudden cackle resonated from the crowd in front of you, one that you could recognize anywhere. It seems your father had already made himself acquainted with Mr. Jeon and his friend. The three share a polite conversation. Not wasting any time, your mother pushed out the ladies in front of her dragging the four of you by the wrist like rag dolls. “Oh darling, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Her voice was pitched, it got that way when she lied. Your mother turned to the men before bowing, “My apologies. I didn’t mean to disturb your conversation, I’m Mrs. Bennet.” Then she turned slightly towards the four of you, “These are my daughters Tzuyu, Y/n, Nancy, and Yeri.” Both men responded to your greetings, though you noticed the dandy man did so cooly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all, I’m Jeon.” A bright smile spread his lips apart, making Mr. Jeon resemble a cute animal. Though he spoke in general, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes of Tzuyu. “This is my good friend, Mr. Kim.” Mr. Kim bowed politely, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Mr. Jeon and Mr. Kim looked like beings out of Thomas Gainsborough's paintings. Their beauty enrapturing, in every sense of the word. Though Mr. Jeon was attractive in his own right. There was something about Mr. Kim, be it his aura or demeanor, that drew you in. Your family excused themselves to allow the men to greet others, but Tzuyu and you hatched a plan to conveniently converse with them once more. “What if he doesn’t like me, Y/n?” Tzuyu stressed as she bit her lip anxiously, the skin turning white at the pressure she was exerting. “How could he not? You’re the most beautiful girl here. Not to mention he could barely keep his eyes off of you.” It didn’t take much to persuade Tzuyu, but it didn’t take much to dissuade her either. Tzuyu was as beautiful as the full bloom in the spring, but she contained all the delicacy of one too. “Don’t worry all will be well.” That statement was just meant as encouragement for your older sister, but for you as well. Mr. Kim was intimidating and from his aloofness, you could perceive he wasn’t fond of the environment he found himself in. All he needs is to feel comfortable. I’ll help. Tzuyu and you walked around the entirety of the room twice, engaging in mild conversation before coincidentally stopping at a spot right next to the two gentlemen. It was bait, you hoped one of them would latch on. Thankfully Mr. Jeon did. “Good Evening, ladies. I hope I’m not interrupting anything am I?” The delivery was charming, as was the way his eyes glowed with excitement whenever he spoke to Tzuyu. Her small one worded reply doing little to off put him.

The conversation between the four of you was more of a three-way: Mr. Kim simply stood there staring off into the distance as if wishing to be somewhere else. He appeared bored, even annoyed at moments. “Mr. Kim, do you dance?” It was a simple question, one you hoped would involve him in the discussion. All he did was stare at you before replying, “I try to avoid it when at all possible.” You could pick up on social cues easily, but there was something telling you to poke once more. “Why is that? I find dancing to be a necessary skill in life.” Mr. Kim raised his brow as if his interest was piqued. “Why is that?” You resisted every urge to smile teasingly at him, “Dancing allows for talking without words. A way to see if one is compatible with another, or simply as a means of merriment.” There was something unknown in his eyes, swirling around in the dark pool. It frightened as much as it intrigued you. You longed to know the man more until, “I’m afraid I don’t dance Ms. Bennet.” It was curt and monotonous as if he was scolding a child. A light scoff left your lips. “Very well then, I’ll find someone who does.” With that you walked off, leaving the group behind feeling eyes piercing into your back.

You felt satisfied with your response at the situation, as you sat down between the barracks letting your feet rest for a bit. Men like Mr. Kim often needed to be shown off their high horse, even if it was only for a second. Sighing, you leaned back against the wooden frame a small smile playing on your lips as you recalled how shocked he seemed at your response. Faintly you could hear multiple people conversing around you, but none that you found interesting, so you allowed them to fade to a buzz in the back of your mind. Until you picked up on two voices that had you turning around in your seat to ensure it truly was them. Between the crevices, you could clearly see Mr. Jeon and Mr. Kim talking unaware or uncaring about who listened in. “Doesn’t have a certain charm?” Jeon asked with his bunny smile on full display, it must be a signature of his when he was joyful. His companion, however, didn’t share in his delight, “If you were to find pauperess and no civility charming.” Your jaw slacked at Kim’s response. “Come on, it's refreshing. Not to mention all the beautiful women.” Again Kim remained stoic in his response, did he always look so miserable. “The only beautiful woman here was Ms. Bennet who you seem to have taken quite a liking too.” It was difficult to tell in low lighting, but you were certain Jeon shrugged whilst letting out a small giggle. Tzuyu would be so happy. She may be incredibly shy, but anyone could tell she liked him as well. “That isn’t true. Her sister Y/n is very agreeable.” A long pause was shared between them as the nerves swelled in your chest. “Barely tolerable if you ask me.” What an ass!

The rest of the ball had proceeded as normally, though you did catch Nancy and Yeri engaging in a conversation with several officers bordering on improper. They hadn’t enjoyed being scolded, but you somehow doubted they would learn their lesson. The two of them, especially Nancy, were desperate to be out into society even if Tzuyu wasn’t married yet. Not that you could afford to wait much longer, your father wasn’t getting any younger. Once he passed the house would be returned to the landowner, regardless of his female heirs. The only way to save the estate is through marriage – a strategic one at that. Mr. Jeon represented all that and so much more to your mother, but you were glad the two seemed to like each other. That’s all one could hope for. Eventually, the night drew to a close and one by one people began to dissipate. Your parents and younger sisters preferred to travel home by carriage, Tzuyu and you walked enjoying the warm night breeze. Sensing your discontent, Tzuyu offered up some kind remarks. “Think about it this way, if he liked you that means you would have to talk to him.” A small smile tore through your chagrin expression. “That’s true. Now I won’t ever have to deal with Mr. Pompous anymore.” The two of you laughed walking hand in hand. “Still Mr. Jeon looks like a good man.” Tzuyu nodded enthusiastically, “He is? Isn’t he? He’s an amazing dancer.” You valued your sister. Despite her age and the pressures on her, she managed to fall for him not for his wealth or grace simply for his ability to dance. You pulled her tight against you, “Be sure to name your child after me. Both of them.” You teased her, before running off Tzuyu giving chase. “Then they would come out as hideous as you.” She screamed back as the two of you raced finally reaching the house, heading straight for bed.

It was several days later that you would have the misfortune of running into Mr. Kim again though due to an entirely different circumstance. Your sisters and you were heading into the main square with the purpose of buying ribbons, the other ones you owned beginning to fade. Nancy and Yeri were most excited due to the military parade. “Do you know how many handsome men there will be. One is sure to fall for me if several don’t.” Nancy rambled on and on as Yeri agreed with her every word. Tzuyu and you sharing a knowing look. “If you’re so certain drop a handkerchief and see who picks it up. All the popular maidens do in stories.” Yeri suggested causing you to let out a small chuckle, “I doubt any respectable officer would step out of the parade and risk being trampled over just to return a handkerchief to Nancy.” The three of you giggled, as Nancy pouted. “We’ll see about that. Get ready to eat your words.” With that, she strode off to where the crowds were gathered. The three of you watched as she desperately tried to draw attention to herself, then she threw the handkerchief. Minutes later she was walking back with a heavy frown as the three of you laughed at her. “Don’t worry Nancy. I’m sure you’ll be married off by the age of twenty-seven.” Yeri poked fun before all of you continue your stroll. You felt as if someone was calling out to you, it was until you felt the slight tug on your sleeve that you turned around.

“I’m sorry Miss but is this your handkerchief.” The officer, clad in fitted blue and red uniform, had pouty lips, feline eyes, and beautiful light brown hair. Alluring was the word to describe his appearance. Before you could even speak Nancy appeared before you, “Isn’t that so nice. What every would she have done without it?” The officer bowed before introducing himself, “Park. At your ladies’ service, whatever I may do for you feel free to ask.” The four of you thanked him, though Nancy’s response was the loudest. “You can accompany us to the ribbon shop if you’d like.” Yeri spoke suddenly a smirk evident. Both you and Tzuyu scolded her, while Nancy only encouraged her idea more to Officer Park. “If it wouldn’t disturb you.” He replied, staring at you. “It wouldn’t Mr. Park, but we understand you must be a busy man.” Tzuyu offered the man an escape, he didn’t seem to want to take it by what you could read from him. “I promise its no trouble at all.” There was little left to say. Park accompanied your sisters and  you across the town square, into the store. The man had even paid for your ribbons after Nancy had slyly suggested it. I swear she must say the first thing that pops into her head. After the shopping spree, the walk home had been long but not plain, as Mr. Park was a pleasing companion. “Tell me Y/n. What do you most dislike about the world?” The two of you trailed behind the group, the girls speaking incongruently about this or that. “Prideful men.” It slipped out without much thought. “That specific, huh?” Park laughed, it was a nice one. A mixture of a nice rasp and a titter. “I imagine you’ve conjured up the image of whoever fits the description?” That you had, his miserable face coming to mind.

It was the sound of hooves and neighing of horses that drew your attention, both Jeon and Kim were up ahead conversing with your siblings. Adorning Kim was his custom black suit with a muslin top – ruffle free this time. He could give Beau Brummell a run for his money. Although you doubted there would be anyway Kim elegance could go unnoticed. He hadn’t seemed to notice you, putting all his attention on Mr. Park. Giving him unscrupulous stares. The closer the two of you got to the group, the clearer the conversation became. “Y/n do you hear? Mr. Jeon is throwing a ball.” Yeri gleamed. “It’s a costume ball. He’s invited everyone in town.” Nancy gushed, looking over at Mr. Park with a suggestive gaze. Mr. Jeon who had been engaging in nonverbal communication with Tzuyu where both stared at each other until one looked away, noticed his name mentioned. “What…ah yes. You all must come. You will, won’t you?” He turned back to look at Tzuyu. The latter was biting her lip to prevent a grin from showing, “It would be our pleasure. Thank you.” Mr. Park looked quite uncomfortable probably due to Mr. Kim’s unwanted attention. “I do hope you dance this time, Mr. Kim.” Kim let his eyes glide along with your figure, before reeling his horseback and galloping away. “I do hope to see you all there. Goodbye for now.” Jeon spoke hurriedly, before racing off trying to catch up to his friend. Mr. Park was paralyzed on the spot, failing to notice his name being called. “You will attend won’t you officer?” Nancy asked. The man shook his head and smiled, “Of course. It sounds like a delightful time.”

It was the night of the ball. The invitation had been received via letter and it was dubbed buja ball, Tzuyu and you had laughed whilst Yeri and Nancy pestered you to know what it meant. If your family had spent all day preparing for the previous one, they had practically spent all week. Mother had all but banned going out, to ensure that you all looked dainty and pure as could be. “This is the perfect opportunity for all you to find a suitor. A wealthy one. God knows we need him.” A part of you was undoubtedly excited, if officer Park showed tonight then you would be able to converse more. He was a kind man, attractive, and in good standing. It was a befitting proposal; one you hoped would work out. Tzuyu spent all afternoon doing your hair, twisting and coiling it into beautiful curls adorning with pearls. “You’ll be the pearl of the ball.” She mused. You thought that was fine, for she would be the belle. All of the dresses worn were white with elegant trimmings and fastened silk ribbons. Your family looked like the picture of propriety. By the time, you had arrived the ball was already bustling. Though it painted differently to the type of environment you were accustomed to. There were less cackling and more hushed chuckles. Less clamoring and more whispering. Everyone looked to be as pretty and fragile as a doll. The bourgeoisie… You nursed the glass in your hand as you saw everyone enjoying themselves.

There was the loud rise that came with the beginning of a song as the musicians played. “May I have the next dance, Miss Y/n?” You jumped in fright before turning around to meet the mysterious man. An ornate mask covered his face but his physique was tall and lean. Knowing it would be rude to keep gawking at him, you softly placed your hand in his. “You may.” He guided you onto the dance floor and as the music swelled. It wasn’t that he was a bad dancer, but you could tell he was anxious about it. So much so that he didn’t speak at all to you focusing entirety on the steps. “I do say this is quite an elaborate dance.” You remarked, hoping he would take the hint. However, several seconds passed by and he had no intention of replying. You sighed softly, “I spoke about the dance. Now you ought to remark on the size of the room or the number of couples.” At this, you felt his interest piqued for his head tilted slightly. “I’m perfectly happy to oblige. Please advise me what you would like most to hear.” The man's voice was strangely familiar when he spoke sarcastically, it was on the tip of your tongue you simply couldn’t get it out. “That reply will do the present.” You spoke coyly. The two of you continued to dance, switching couples every so often only to return to one another. A thought struck you, “Perhaps by and by, I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones.” Once again, your partner refrained from answering. “Well, for now, we may remain silent.”

“Do you talk, as a rule, while dancing?” He spoke, voice not revealing anything. “No.” You smiled, “No, I prefer to be unsociable and taciturn. Makes all more enjoyable don’t you think, Mr. Kim?” From his slight misstep, you could tell you caught him off guard. Perhaps he was not expecting you to identify him so quickly or at all. Due to the mask, you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or upset. “Tell me, do you and your sisters very often walk to town?” What? “Yes, we often do. It’s a great opportunity to meet new people.” He didn’t seem all to pleased with your answer by the way he straightened up. So that’s what this is about. “It seems you have formed a new acquaintance then. Mr. Park is blessed with such happy manners he is sure to make friends. Whether he is capable of retaining them is less certain.” You couldn’t understand the anger in his voice or the fear that began to paralyze your stomach. Come to think of it, you had not seen Park all night. At first, you assumed it may have been due to the sheer size of attendees, now you weren’t so certain. “Pardon me, Mr. Kim but I need a breath of fresh air.” Not bothering to hear his response, you briskly walked away from the man. Trying to find the nearest exit. The door was just out of reach until you ran headfirst into a crying Yeri. “Yeri what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” Your every joyful sister looked disastrous as she clung onto you. “Nancy has run away with Mr. Park. They plan to elope. She wrote me a letter and gave it to me when we first arrived. I simply didn’t bother reading it till now. Now I can’t find her.”

Your heart began to constrict in your chest. No that can’t be…Nancy wouldn’t do that to us. “Y/n she believes they’re in love. She won’t come back until there wed and then…and then…” You shushed Yeri as you rubbed her back soothingly. “It’s okay. Go speak to father, I’ll go out and search for her. They couldn’t have gone far alright? We’ll get her back.” She nodded against your shoulder before wiping away her tears and trying to locate your family among the crowd. With greater determination, you broke ran out the main entrance looking around for any sign of your sister. If she went through with this it wouldn’t just ruin her life, but your entire family’s reputation. All of you would be ruined and deemed unfit for marriage. Your father’s estate would be snatched up and all of you would face poverty. “Damn it, Nancy. How could you be so selfish?!” You muttered as you took off down the murky road, not caring about the mud gathering on your dress and shoes.  It felt as if you had walked miles until your legs gave out and you crawled over to rest on a withering willow tree. The tear ducts had long dried, as had your sweat which had been soaked into the dress. Your hair was dishelmed and coming undone by the minute. If your mother saw you, she would be sure to throw a fit. If the nerves from Nancy’s situation hadn’t killed her already. You rest up against the willow tree, trying to decipher how everything had happened. Park had looked so kind and been so charming, you would’ve never expected this from a man like him. You had let him fool you so easily, he seemed the exact opposite of Kim yet proved himself to be a lot worse.

It was then that the rain started to pour as if the heavens were truly weeping or laughing at you. Condemning your family. So preoccupied with your thoughts were you that you failed to notice the appearance of Mr. Kim until he was right beside you drenched in head to toe. “Miss Y/n.” He began, causing you to jump in fright. Mr. Kim looked shaken, though it didn’t appear to be from the rain. He looked at you earnestly before speaking once again, “I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past weeks have been a torment.” Kim spoke with fervor as if he himself couldn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth. “I have fought against my better judgment, the expectations placed on me, the inferiority of your birth, my rank, circumstances and all these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.” You stepped sat up, taking tentative steps. “I-I don’t understand.” Where was this coming from? What does he mean? The frown between your brows deepened. Mr. Kim stepped forward, simultaneously you stepped back. Your back hitting the trunk of the willow tree. “I love you…most ardently.” You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. “Please do me the honor of accepting my hand.” You swallowed thickly, unprepared for what was to come next. You spoke cautiously avoiding looking into his reddened eyes, “Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done.” You let the words fade. Not feeling the need to explain yourself further. “Is this your reply?” He asked. Finding it difficult to speak, you opted to nod. Trying to look anywhere but at him. Why now? Since when? Why? “Are you laughing at me?” You looked up at him in shock. “Surely you tease Miss Bennet. I couldn’t imagine a reason why –”

“For all the reasons you’ve just mentioned. To you, it may seem illogical, but what seems illogical to me is how a man I’ve only just met declares his undying love for me, after being nothing but uncivil towards me. Then he goes as far, as to propose whilst listing all the reasons I am unfit to accept such a proposal.” You ramble on, not bothering about sensibilities when it seems Mr. Kim is so strung up on his ego, he forgoes all common sense. “Were the roles reversed I am certain you would react the same.” Kim didn’t speak for a while, his head hanging low in what you believed to be a shame. Rather abruptly, however, he broke into a laugh. A maniacal one at that. “On the contrary Miss Y/n. If I were in your position, I would leap onto the opportunity to save face and your family’s reputation.” He was laughing so hard that tears strolled down his face. You were reeling thoughts raising about your head as you tried to comprehend everything. “After all, what kind of woman would you be if you didn’t? Your father is in ruins, older sister unwed, youngest sister disgraced. Why you would be lucky if your family didn’t die of shame.” You found yourself caged between the trunk and him, every time he spoke his voice grew deeper. More animalistic.  You feared for your life. “Mr. Jeon plans to propose to Tzuyu. Nancy will be found, I’m sure of it.” He laughed once more, his left hand went up to pat your head. “Jungkook won’t propose unless I allow him to. I’m in control of his inheritance and your mother won’t allow Tzuyu to marry without a pretty penny.” He smirked, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear. “Not to mention, Nancy may never be found. At least not alive.”

The fear left you paralyzed as you whimpered softly, “What have you done, Mr. Kim?” The lust in his eyes left little to the imagination. “I believe I have just proposed to you, but since it didn’t go as smooth as I would’ve desired let us try again.” Kim stepped back allowing you room to breathe. Whatever little oxygen you had regained was robbed once more, when he got down on one knee. “There is something I must tell you Miss Y/n. I have to tell you, you have bewitched me; body and soul. I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.” Tears welled in your eyes as you listened to each and every word. “Well then, what’s your response?”

[trashy-slashy]

Yandere Thomas Hewitt maybe if requests are open? It’s completely okay if not, I love your writing :)

I’m not too familiar with yandere stuff, but I hope this is okay!

Small warning for mention of non-con

Having a 6′4 chainsaw wielding boyfriend had not been on your original list of life goals, but it seemed preferable to not having a life at all. Upon arriving at the Hewitt home years ago, Thomas had taken a liking to you, begging Luda to keep you. She had been suspicious, lurking around corners and watching you, despite Thomas never letting you out of his sight. He treated you well, bringing you small gifts from his victims, making sure you had enough water whilst working out in the Texan heat. The butcher was surprisingly gentle and affectionate. His mother eventually backed off a little, and you began to wonder if life here would be all that bad.  Soon after Charlie had began pestering you. 

Everything he did made you uncomfortable. From the lingering gazes to using excuses to touch you whenever Thomas wasn’t looking made you sick to your stomach. You snapped one day, calling him out for his actions, but he had simply grinned wickedly, your vision going black as something collided with your head. 

When you came to, your wrists were tied down. You went to scream for Thomas but saw he loomed above you , the hum of the saw reverberating through the air. His nails drew blood from his own palm, his breathing ragged as he broke through your restraints. You stayed silent as he hoisted you onto his shoulder, and turned to leave the room. His feet had squelched in the viscera that covered the floor.

He changed after that day.

*

“Tommy, please!” You screeched, backing up against the wall of the barn, flinching unconsciously at the chainsaw revving near your face. He snarled, clenching his fist in your hair. Since Charlie had died, Thomas had basically kept you locked up in his basement, aside from when he kept you beside him when you slept. It was getting too much. Your skin looked grey, your face gaunt from the lack of sunlight. Thomas only really remembered to feed you every other day when Luda reminded him.  “I’m s-s-sorry!” After your attempted escape today, Thomas had chased you down like any of his other victims. His eyes full of rage as he brandished the chainsaw, making you cower into the wall. Tears dripped down your cheeks as the faint hope of freedom faded away. Thomas wouldn’t let you try again. 

“Please...” You whimpered meekly, closing your eyes as he rotating blades dipped towards your knees.

[serpentine-fxrtune]

questions what fandoms have you been a part of? did you have a powerpuff girls art style phase?

Okay everyone, time to head down memory lane!The first fanart I ever drew was indeed in the powerpuff girls style (the style around the point when the RRB were reborn by Him) so I’ll count that as my first fandom. My favourite out of any round, bug eyed character there was without question Butch.The second one was Bakugan Battle Brawlers. I started there during the second half of New Vestroia and was a major fan, and I still have many of the toys I got then, such as the ventus Dynamo that sits on the underside of the stand my bedroom tv sits on. Shun and Ace are my alternating favourites, but Shun was part of the original six so I guess he’s my actual favourite.My third was Tokyo Mew Mew, or Mew Mew Power concerning the English dub by 4Kids. I had a few OCs, such as Mew Dream and Auber (a Cyniclon). Most of the OCs in that fandom were recolours of the five heroines, although the style looked pretty annoying to try and mimic anyway. Mew Zakuro is my favourite here.Then was the fourth, Pokémon. I seriously wish I got into it sooner. My main point of being a fan in pokémon is Pokémon Special… I think I just like Silver too much, and I’d love to translate some of his lines to Welsh.The fifth was Hetalia. I got into this through a Germany lemon on DA all because of curiousity. I recently made an OC here actually but this is about fandoms, not OCs. My personal favourite there is Romania. He’s a good big brother.My sixth. The sixth. Good old Yandere Simulator. It started (as a mention) in April 2015 and caught me in the September of 2016. I only made an account to be part of the fandom in February of last year, 2017. Marena Resaiyume is my current main OC there, and I even have a drag queen in my OC roster there by the name of Tsukito Kunin. I’d say if anyone asked me about obscure things, I’d answer them best on the topic of Yandere Simulator. I love Chojo the most and it’s nota surprise, considering he’s like a mini comfort character for me.Steven Universe is seventh and very brief. My pfp currently is my gemsona, Lizardite Serpentine, she’s under Blue Diamon according to her clothes but don’t count on her being nice about it. Pilot Garnet is current favourite. She’s too damn fabulous for me.Eighth is Persona, and on my wall is a persona I made for myself, Thelxiope, of whom is a Wheel of Fortune… Or Wheel of Fxrtune in my case. I got in just before Persona 5 was released and honestly, Persona influenced my opinion of the Occult club in YS more than I’d like to admit. Naoya Toudo, aka MC of Megami Ibunroku Persona is favourite, hell, he’s in the center of my phone’s background.Ninth and fairly recent is Homestuck. More specifically Hiveswap, and I even have Thelxi Opeleu on this blog under all the random reblogs I have. I’m gonna wait for Hiveswap to finish before I choose favourites here.The tenth while I was typing, which is Sanders Sides, and I even have my own sides; Aethlin (Morality), Mar (Creativity), Kyna (Logic), Sorrel (Anxiety) and Pandora (Deceit). Picking a favourite Thomas? Impossible.So there’s that.

[flowerchoked-a]

Non Binary Muses:

Bing

MSN

Google

Yandere

Logan Sanders

Max

Gary Valentine

Morose

Alby Emery Reyes

Cryaotic

Kenny McCormick

Corrupted Logic

Transgender Male Muses:

Eddy Fischbach

Jack McLoughlin

Sean McLoughlin

Chase Brody

Matty (Self Insert)

Oscar Wilde

Alexander Hamilton

Rick Sanchez

Transgender Female Muses:

Gwen

Cis Male Muses:

Mark

Damien

Host

Wilford

Bim

Dr. Iplier

Drew

King

Ed

Jeremiah

Antisepticeye

Jack’s Shadow

Thomas Sanders

Adrian Sanders

Fear Sanders

Depression Sanders

Roman Sanders

Patton Sanders

Daniel

Red

Tony Pratcher

Culpeo

Virus!Cry

MadPat

Tyler Scheid

Matthew Patrick

Shane Dawson

Matthias

Felix Kjelberg

Evil!Morty

Raphael

The Master

The Tenth Doctor

Bill Cipher

Gortimer Gibbons

Stewie Griffin

Brian Griffin

Cis Female Muses:

Sasha

Ana

Dana

Shelly Marsh

Monaka Towa

Heather McNamara

Louise Belcher

Peridot (?)

[kneamet]

Older Brother (2/10)

Trigger Warning: hint of sex, incest, jealousy, angst, yandere, obsession.

Summary: What if the story of Crimson Peak existed in reality? A menacing atmosphere, Gothic dresses and costumes, an intriguing Sharpe family, with a sister who has a rather strange relationship with her older brother Thomas.

Chapter 1: https://kneamet.tumblr.com/post/635786937450594304/older-brother-110

Chapter 2: you are here

Chapter 3: https://kneamet.tumblr.com/post/636154464285392896/older-brother-310

Chapter 4: https://kneamet.tumblr.com/post/636240864055836673/trigger-warning-no-summary-what-if-the-story-of

Chapter 5: https://kneamet.tumblr.com/post/636333063910178816/older-brother-510

Chapter 6: https://kneamet.tumblr.com/post/636426508886491136/trigger-warning-smut-anal-sex-jealous-summary   

Chapter 7: https://kneamet.tumblr.com/post/636514022923075584/older-brother-710

Chapter 8: https://kneamet.tumblr.com/post/636694578135695360/older-brother-810

Chapter 9: https://kneamet.tumblr.com/post/636966569235382272/older-brother-910

Chapter 10: https://kneamet.tumblr.com/post/637144259140698112/older-brother-1010

The sumptuous, romantic sounds of Mozart poured out from under Thomas's fingers, and all the participants in the ball, most of them standing, held their breath at once. The baronet sat very straight, leaning slightly over the keys. His art was impeccable. Nevertheless, he was surrounded by an aura of inaccessibility and even coldness.

Thomas sharp ended the game with a great passage, but not everyone realized that the music did not reflect his soul at all. He was clearly more than just a handsome man traveling with his sister. I wonder what his dreams are and what he wants. The man was slightly older than lady Y/N and apparently unmarried.

When the company broke into applause, Tom stood up and bowed modestly. However, something drew the audience's attention away from the pianist, and a whisper passed through the hall. Everyone else turned away from sir Thomas to see what had caused the commotion.

Lady Y/N, the lost guest, finally appeared in the hall.

James stood on his arm, dressed in a stunning suit.

When Sharpe saw that the eyes of the audience were not on him, he looked up to see what had stirred the audience. Sister. He clenched his hand into a fist.

Yes, apart from the fact that Tom was as eager to get the money as you were, he had no doubt, but He didn't really want to share you with anyone... You were his! You belonged to him!

Tom and Y/N looked at each other. Wrong thoughts were forming in their heads.

"James," you chimed in, smiling, "this is sir Thomas sharp, my brother," Cushing smiled and the man gave him a fake smile.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Cushing," Thomas said. "That's who my sister owes, "he leaned in and kissed you, murmuring softly in your ear," we'll talk at the hotel, " and you nodded, swallowing and looking forward to what would happen next. "Why are you in a suit? Didn't we agree that you would wear your mother's dress?" James looked from you to Thomas in disbelief. 

"Thomas, I - "

" Ladies and Gentlemen, please step aside. The Baroness wants to show you how to waltz... In the European style," said the hostess of the party.

You, after a quick glance at your brother, who was just going to the piano, took the candle from the servant's hand and went to the middle.

"The waltz is not really a difficult dance. The lady stands slightly to the left of the leading gentleman. Six basic steps, that's all. Nevertheless, it is believed that a real waltz should be fast, perfect and so smooth that the capricious flame of the candle in the hand of the presenter does not go out. "It takes... the perfect partner," you said loudly. Some of them got a little closer to you, but your target was James. "Do you agree?" you asked Cushing, giving him a soft smile. He looked into your eyes, confused.

A small murmur ran through the room. A girl dressed as a man asks a guy to dance? Where has this been seen?

"Consonant."

Good thing no one saw Thomas's eye twitch.

***

Your relationship with James was perfect. During these 3 weeks, you have become very close. He was a great conversationalist and a great friend. You thought that if your brother wasn't controlling you, you and Cushing might have gotten away with something.

You took a deep breath, pausing at the door. By clicking on the handle, you went in. Looking down at your feet and muttering to yourself, you didn't notice that you bumped into someone. That someone was James. You smiled.

When you saw Cushing picking up the papers he had scattered, your eyes suddenly opened wide. Today you will have to make him an offer. And he will have to agree.

***

"I don't want to do this again," you whispered pityingly to your brother. Your eyes filled with tears, and Thomas just rolled his eyes.

With a slow, predatory gait, he began to approach you, smiling a dangerous smile. Putting his left arm around you, he placed his right hand on your cheek, starting to stroke it with light and slow movements.

"You will do it, dear sister. You can do this," his hand touched your soft hair and lightly squeezed. You gasped in pain and tried to free yourself from his hand-held captivity, but only made the situation worse. "You know what happens if you're not going to be good, right?"you nodded, startled. Sharpe put his face close to your ear and whispered: "you will marry James Cushing and we will get his money and live happily ever after. And you can continue your work."

"Well... All Right, Thomas."

"Now you will go to him and make him an offer, as we discussed earlier. And just try to disappoint me."

***

Memories flashed through your mind.

Thomas... Your brother... You knew it was wrong to do what you were doing, but you couldn't make him stop. Unfortunately, then he would have beaten you.

Blinking briefly, you looked down at your suit and reached into your pocket for the ring box.

You saw that he was in love with you. This was clear from his awkward movements and stuttering.

Although the girls never proposed, you couldn't help it because your brother made you. But you didn't understand why he was using you... Why can't he breed people and marry girls himself? Why exactly did you get this job?

"Is everything all right?" he asked as he finally gathered up the papers and adjusted his glasses. When you finally gathered your strength, you finally spoke.

"Mr. Cushing... James ... I don't have the right to ask this, but..."

"What is it, Y/N?" you were happy to see that he dropped your title and was now talking to you normally.

However, your awkward and failed conversation was interrupted by Latimer Cushing, James ' father.

"Lady Y/N... I have a serious conversation to have with you and your brother. Would you be so kind as to call him? James, please tell everyone we'll be back soon.

***

"So, lady Y/N, sir Thomas, on our first meeting, you couldn't help but notice my dislike for you.

"You made it clear, sir, but I was hoping that in time you - "

"Your time is up. "

" What do you mean?"raising an eyebrow, you asked, swallowing and glancing at your brother. The man's brows were very furrowed.

"I'm afraid you won't like it," he turned to your brother, as if to say that it would be easier to communicate with him. "Thomas," he said, and the older Sharpe nodded. "In the past few days, your sister has thought it possible to interfere with my business and, clearly, by being familiar and courting my son. Only son.

"Sir, I understand my position is not high, but with all due respect, I-"

"I don't know what it's like in England, but we don't do that. For a girl to take care of a guy, not the other way around," the man protested, and you opened your mouth. "I take it you fell in love with him, right? Am I right, lady?""your eyes expressed sadness and seemed to want to say something. "You're a great actress..." he leaned over some papers. "Recently, my son asked me why I disliked you so much. I didn't have an answer at the time, but now I do. Here is this document, " he handed it to your brother. "He put all the dots in place. By the way, for the first time I see that your reaction, lady Sharpe, is not fake." Your eyes darted around the room, however, the document in took.

In fact, even though you didn't know James that long, only 3 weeks ago, you knew that you were starting to feel something for him. Although this has never happened before.

James was funny, smart, protective, protective. He would be a perfect match for someone. And you didn't really want to involve him in your business with your brother, but unfortunately, you didn't decide here.

"Does he know?" Tom asked, taking the papers from you and looking through them.

"No, but I'll tell him if I have to. "

" Sir, I know this is going to be hard to believe, but - " you were about to say you were interrupted by a man.

"You are in love. I know. You repeat yourself," Cushing turned to your brother, handing him an envelope. "So, Thomas, I think you're thinking more sensibly. I know I'm being overly generous, but to get this money, you need to meet two conditions. There's a train leaving for new York tomorrow morning. You and your sister must leave. Do we understand each other?"

"Of course. What is the second condition?" Tom asked politely.

"It concerns my son," he turned to you. "You must break his heart today, lady Sharpe."

Men looked at you. You swallowed excitedly.

You didn't want to break his heart. It was still too innocent.

***

Thomas, you and Latimer returned to the table, allowing you to take the most prominent position. This was the time to break James's heart.

You closed your eyes for a second and stood up, tapping your spoon against the glass. Everyone paid no attention to you.

With a sigh, you spoke:

"Ladies and gentlemen," you smiled seductively, but it didn't show in your eyes. "I came to America with my brother for hopes and a couple of pounds in my pocket. However, realizing that we can't do anything here, we decided to leave here, since there is nothing holding us here, " you said loudly and was about to sit down when James jumped out from behind the table and ran towards the stairs.

But you managed to overtake him and block his path.

"James".

"You're leaving," he said softly, looking down at his feet.

"Yes, my brother and I must leave immediately.

"I see," Jim said angrily, heading up the stairs and into the room.

"Your detective... I finished reading it last night. Tomorrow morning it will be returned to you, "seeing that the guy is not interested in your conversation, you spoke again:" do you Want to know my opinion?" Cushing stopped and nodded lightly... It's eerily banal and predictable," you started walking towards it, starting to get closer. "The seriousness with which you describe the scenes of investigation and murder is ridiculous," you leaned even closer to him. "You haven't experienced anything like this, have you?"

"Stop it!" Jim exclaimed loudly. Suddenly, out of the blue, guests appeared in the hallway, looking at your quarrel with a lot of curiosity on their faces.

You blocked the writer's path again. "I'm not finished yet!"

Your eyes, as well as Jim's, were filled with genuine tears. Swallowing them, you continued:

"You've never seen a corpse, have you? Have you ever dreamed of ghosts? You are just a silly sentimental boy who has not yet come out of daddy's wing and experienced the real life and suffering, " your speech was interrupted by a loud slap in the face.

James ran away in tears to the room, and you were left standing in the middle of the corridor and the guests. Raising the look, you're met with the sight of his brother standing near the door.

***

Your trip to the hotel with Thomas was very quiet and stressful. You didn't say a word to each other, but you knew something would happen at the hotel that you wouldn't like.

After paying the coachman, you went outside and went to the hotel. Thomas, as always, opened the door to your room for you.

Locking it, he turned to you, who was taking off her corduroy coat. Slowly taking off his coat, the elder Sharpe walked over to the bed where you were sitting, head bowed in shame.

He squatted down in front of you and took your chin in his hands, gently pulling it to him and giving you a rough kiss. He pushed you down on the bed and slowly took off his shirt.

You looked at him absently. Why now? However, you didn't have the strength to ask, so you just told your brother.

A/N and here is part 2. By the way, I also post on Ao3.