#yandere kny

When he is a momma’s boy with long pretty hair (that every girl is jealous of) who can’t spell shit, and love to beat anyone & anything as a hobby ♡

Bonus: when he uses his blonde friend as a punching bag

S-SIR!

teehee

Warnings: Yandere Gyomei, mention of murder, mention of nsfw, afab reader, unhealthy relationships, uneven power dynamics, mention of past violence

“Just me and him.” 

“The two of you?” Hiyako considered the thought for a second. “By yourself.”

“He invited me.” You played with the hem of your kimono, your lips pressed into a content smile. “He said I might like the flowers they grow there. Apparently there are entire fields filled with yellow flowers.”

“Aha…” She said again, a diplomatic noise meant to give her some more time to think. “Master Gyomei certainly… looks fondly upon you.” 

“Right!” You immediately replied excitedly, nearly bouncing out of position. “I love spending time with him.”

 Hiyako didn’t share your enthusiasm and seemed a bit awkward as she nodded.

“I’m sure your relationship with Master Gyomei is far closer than the kind he shares with the rest of us.” She started. “He saved you from that dreadful place and has taken great care of you ever since. He truly is a great master, and I’ll admit you are the sole woman I’ve ever seen in his company, but you still work here. He gave you a place here, and that place is to serve, not to… court.”

“I know how it looks-” You started, smiling as if this was a stupid consideration you’d had as well but long dismissed. “I thought so too, but he’s made promises to me! And he wouldn’t lie to me. He’s an honest man.”

“Even so…”

Your enthusiasm was kind of ruined at her lacklustre response. You’d expected to be told off for bedding the master of the house, but the tone accompanying it should’ve been exasperation, not worry.

“Please be careful.” Hiyako grabbed your hand and you could see the dread swirling around her face, her brows furrowed so tightly you wondered if it hurt.”I know how you feel, but we mustn’t forget our place here. I don’t want to see you get hurt if the master ever gets a wife.”

“He-”

“He would, sweet child.” She interrupted, deducing your thoughts. “I’ve worked in many such houses, and while I’ve seen dozens of servants sent away with growing bellies and broken hearts, I’ve never seen a master who would dissappoint his family and forfeit his fortune for one such as us. If not for his own benefit, he would do so for master Kaguya. Please be careful, I beg you, I don’t want to send you off like that.”

“But-” The words hitch a bit in the back of your throat, her earnest concern making you question your certainty on the matter.. “He said he loved me?”

“Even if he does, child, nothing will come of it.” Hiyako grabs your hand tightly, and genuinly seems as distraught as you. “I’m sorry, it’s just the way these things go.”

‘Just the way these things go’. 

For the rest of the week, the words repeat in your mind, and wanting to at least head the warning a little bit, you cease visiting Gyomei. He approaches you at times, and even starts inviting you along to more occassions as a clear attempt to spend more time together, but the fear Hiyako put in your heart needs some time to find a place, and you think some distance might be good. 

You do not intend to stop seeing him, however. Even if you were a hundred percent sure of the bad ending, you’re too fond of the man to ever consider leaving him outright. He saved your life from demons, and for that he’ll always have your heart, even if you do not know now in what capacity it should be given. 

Your head needs to be clear; devoid of any feelings that would cause you to sabotage your own interest. It’s hard to do so in a mansion meant to appease his every need, but it’s easier to banish him from your thoughts in the kitchen than while cradling his face in bed.

And then you overhear a conversation in the kitchens. 

It’s not even whispered. It’s just a small piece of logistical information. 

The effect it has on you is immediate, as you run out of the mansion into the forest, heaving deeply as no matter how much you inhale, no air seems to find your lungs. You’re suffocating, a high-pitched noise leaving your throat with every failed attempt at breathing. ‘

It’s painful, and all-consuming, but the void that encapsulates your heart when you finish crying and have given all you have is many times worse. 

Forget taking a bit of time. 

You needed lots of it.

When you return to the mansion, an hour or so later, a servant approaches you and tells you master Gyomei has requested a servant for aid.

This was usually a ploy to get some time with you, in between all of it, and it seemed every other servant knew, always delegating the requests straight to you. Today, however, you knew even the sight of him would make you lose control entirely, and so you simply smiled and asked the servant, a young boy, whether he could ask someone else, seeing as you had some time sensitive jobs. 

Not seeing any problem with this, the boy nodded and returned to the house. 

Like this, you managed to avoid having to see Gyomei for quite some time. 

Whenever you saw him in the distance, you went the other way, even at the annoyance of some of the other staff. Hiyako seemed to be the most understanding, often giving you shifts in the kitchen to stay out of sight. A few times Gyomei spotted you anyway, either while he was returning from missions or when he’d rest in the gardens and you had no choice but to sneak past. 

Even without his sight, he always figured out your location remarkably fast. He’d once told you while holding you in bed, the moon basking the both of you in a hot summer’s night, that even in crowds of people, he would always be able to recognize the thrum of your heartbeat. 

A lovely sentiment that had melted you into his arms that night, but seemed to carry more truth than you’d expected, as he did always seemed to recognize you in crowds, fixing you with a stare that was intended to make you realize he was aware of you.

He seemed to want to approach you, but seeing as you didn’t want to be approached, he kept his distance, despite the clear dissatisfaction this brought the master of the house.

Two more weeks passed and Hiyako approached you, stating master Gyomei had summoned you to his chambers. This was no longer a vague request you could circumvent. This was a direct demand to see you specifically. Hiyako squeezes your hands again and leaves you by yourself. 

A part of you wants to go back into the forest and scream into the bark of a tree, but your feet are already moving, years of subservience ingrained into your body. If the master wishes to see you, it is not your place to ever deny him. He’d never abused this position thus far, but something inside you fears that’ll change rather quickly. 

It was about time to deal with this, anyway.

Opening up the sliding doors to his chambers, you bow as you see him. There’s already two poured cups of tea in front of him as he sits in wait for you to arrive. Out of habit, you step forward and seat yourself in front of him. This was, of course, no way for a servant to behave, but you’d allowed yourself to grow comfortable during the span of your relationship with Gyomei.

Sitting across from the mountain of a man used to be intimidating. 

He was a presence in every room he occupied, demanding attention just by being there. It was not only his size, but the general aura he gave off, uncompromising and powerful, above all. 

You still remember the times where you shied away from every touch, instinctually scared for the force he was bodily capable of. Weirdly, the stronger you learned he was, the more that feeling subsided. He was a protecter, someone who saved indiscriminately. He’d never hurt you. 

Physically, at least.

His hair was frizzled today, messed up by the long hours of training. Sometimes you’d ask him to bend down, just so you could fix it up for him. Considering how precise and careful he was with his robes, it fit him more to seem immaculate, despite your love for how human it made him seem to have frizzy hair. 

Today was not the day for such affections.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Foregoing any greeting, it seemed he was planning for this to be a serious talk, something you’d dreaded. “I thought I made it clear that if anything was not to your liking, you should come to me.”

“I wouldn’t say anything is wrong.” Neither of you made a move to grab a cup of tea, the beverages seemingly untouchable in the tense atmosphere. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Now you’re being dishonest with me.” He sounded irritated, the mere fact that you’d lie to him a grave misdeed. “You’re aware I cannot stand lying.”

His tone isn’t meant to be harsh, you know that. He’s just irritated at the situation and your response, which you can’t blame him for. But also you want to run up to him and slap him, your fantasies pretending like you could even touch the man. You want him to grovel, to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness. 

Most of all, you just want the heavy feeling on your chest to go away.

“…If you want me to be honest, that’s fine.” Switching the roles, you’re already crying, and for once, Gyomei isn’t. He just sits and listens, expression firm as stone as when he’d push boulders and withstand waterfalls. “I didn’t mean to lie to you, it’s just… complicated.”

“Things rarely are as complicated as people give them credit.” It seems your continual avoidance had aggravated him at least a little bit, since Gyomei never tended to be so harsh in his wording. Not to you, at least. “An easy excuse to use lies. Know that I’m always aware when you are untruthful, so refrain from doing this again.”

Feeling scolded like a little child, you sink within yourself, shame heating up your entire body. Part of the shame stems from his words, but most comes from the fact that it proves he doesn’t care for you as you did him, and what a fool you must’ve been to look past it. He was always stern to you, moving back to his own room after finishing up with you, and while he disapproved of lies, his whispered affection must’ve been proof of his hypocrisy, as you cannot believe a single word of it anymore. 

“I understand, master Gyomei.” You say, as emotionlessly as possible. It hurts to do so, but you try to keep yourself in reign. The tears that had already fallen over your cheeks sully this impression, but you do your best. “I see my presence here has caused you grief.. I apologize for the inconvenience such may have caused. I’ll take my leave now.”

You make moves to stand up, but the hand that shoots forward and presses down on your shoulder keeps you seated firmly. The moment he touches you, you already know it’s meaningless to attempt to scoot away. If he wants you to stay, the order is set, and there’s nothing you can do to change that. 

“You are angry with me.” He says. “You have been for a while now, and I cannot figure out the root of the issue. Please tell me.”

“It’s nothing-”

“Do not lie to me.” He repeats and you look down at your lap, feeling once again shame curl in the back of your neck. “If something’s bothering you, tell me, but I will not stand for any more dishonesty.”

If only you could. 

You feared his response to the truth, whether it’d be anger or a nonchalant acceptance of the facts. 

The tea in front of you grew cold as you agonized over your answer, what to tell him. If he started crying,, you’d probably break and leave the issue, all in hopes that he wouldn’t eventually abandon you, like Hiyako had told you he would. Like everyone had told you he would.

This house had been your last stop, you’d promised yourself. 

The roads were not for you anymore, you wouldn’t travel them. 

Long days in the searing sun, hungry stomachs betraying your desperation as you’d ask for work and lodging, unable to tell the madam where you used to work, lest they find out you left in shame. 

Surviving that the first time had been taxing. If Gyomei made you do it again, you’d collapse. 

You weren’t made out of stone like he was: you were made out of an increasingly sparse amount of happy memories, all soiled by death and abandonment. 

What worth was a memory of drinking alcohol on a porch after a long day of work with every other housekeeper, the small master of the house showing you his new sword, the cook remembering your birthday, when the memory of their viscera being shed across the same wood tainted it?

Gyomei had saved you that day, by killing the demon and taking you in, but part of you felt consumed by the demon regardless. It wasn’t just fear of the love of your life leaving you that was currently clouding your judgement, it was the outright terror you felt at going back out there. 

Back into a world with demons lurking around every corner.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” You speak honestly, your voice sounding fragile. “I don’t have an answer you’ll like.” 

“I don’t need to like it. I need to know what’s troubling you.”  He sighed and placed his hands together in front of his broad chest, once again making him seem like the perfect statue, the tears pooling in his eyes the only fluid thing about him. 

You loved him, you figured, since even knowing what you did, you wanted nothing more than to crawl over to him and sit in his lap, wiping away the tears that fell and whisper endless affection toward the man who’d saved your life, and the man who now threatened to ruin it. “I will not beg, but I will also not allow you to leave this room until you’ve given me a satisfactory answer.”

“Then I guess we’ll sit here for awhile.” You were calling his bluff. If there was any man in high demand of time it was him. Even your trysts had been cut short in several cases, a sudden demon attack demanding his full attention. You never angered in those cases, just hoping he’d manage to end the creature causing such harm. No one who’d lived through a demon attack would ever deny another salvation, even if you worried for Gyomei’s safety at times.

He sighed again, betraying an exhaustion you didn’t associate with him often. Gyomei was unstoppable, always, a force of nature to be reckoned with. It felt unlike him to see him so… fragile. “I can hear your pain, beloved. If you truly have no explanation for it, that is an answer in itself.”

Ice runs down your veins.

“Don’t call me that.” 

He couldn’t. 

Not anymore.

Not after you’d heard the other servants plan a wedding. 

To whom? You’d asked them. Which demon slayer or rich noble held enough influence to sway your lover away from you? Did they even have to be rich, or even have power? Wouldn’t a random lady on the street be considered a better match for the master compared to you, his servant?

Rage bubbled up inside you as you noticed the swelling of Gyomei’s tears, a common sight for those familiar with the man. How could he sit here and call you ‘beloved’, even calling you a liar to your face, all the while keeping from you the marriage he was planning the have, the betrayal he was postponing for a later moment. 

If you’d been heartbroken seconds before, now you were livid.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time.” Rage had steadied your tongue. ”I was told of your imminent engagement. It is none of my business, and I won’t let it hinder my employment from this day forward, so I hope I can count on your leniency on my behaviour thus far.”

And still, despite your rage, you didn’t want to leave. 

Not even now. 

Even if you had to see sights that would make you fall to your knees, raise the children born from a woman other than you, or wash her back while cursing the very mother she’d spawned from. 

It didn’t matter if the mistress was nice and airy, cold and regal or serious and graceful. You’d hate her from the moment she stepped foot on this property. 

“Stop talking like that.” Gyomei insisted, his hand still on your shoulder and pressing down. “Please.”

“I truly care for you master Gyomei.” The honorific makes him flinch. “But I hope I can count on your discretion in matters relating to the new mistress, as I don’t want to leave this place disgraced.”

‘Please don’t send me away’ you begged internally. ‘I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, but please don’t make me go.’

Your adopted method of utter formality made it easier to relay your anger, your utter terror at the thought of having to serve the wife of the man you loved, knowing that he’d hold her in public and love her at night like he once had with you. It was just the way things went, as Hiyako had said, so you just hoped facing your replacement wouldn’t be so utterly gutwrenching as you imagined.

Suddenly he sighs, and it sounds close to relief.

“You’ve misunderstood.” The hand on your shoulder moves to cup your face, wiping your tears with the back of his thumb. It’s familiar and comforting, even if you want to slap his hand away and run into the forest. His words give those intentions a bit of pause. “Please have some more trust in me, beloved. Know I would never betray you like that.”

You cannot stop crying on such short notice, but you feel a slight shift inside you at his words. He would never betray you? You’d misunderstood? Those words were soothing to hear, even though you were still overflowing with grief. Such strong emotions wouldn’t turn tides that quickly, even if you knew otherwise. Still, a small bit of hope sprung to life in the back of your mind.  

“It’s-?”

“It is just a marriage in name.” Gyomei said, dousing the little bit of hope inside you that still wanted it to be a misunderstanding. “Her family has offered a great deal of finances for our union, money that is of vital importance for the demon slayers. I’ve negotiated that she will not reside here, and that I’m only obliged to visit once every two months.”

“Ah.” At that point you figured heartbreak was aptly named, as you could feel your heart contract painfully, your breaths turning even more laborious than they’d already been. “I see.”

“This does not soothe you?” The hashira seemed surprised at the turn of events, watching you crumble to dust in his hands. “We’ll still be together, isn’t that the most important part?”

“Does she know of me?” A humorless smile formed on your face, already knowing the answer.

Gyomei tilted his head, not seeming to see how this was relevant.

“No?” 

Ah. 

As you suspected.

“I love you.” You admitted, the words hurting more to say than any other you’d said this night. “I really do. It’s why I really wanted this to work, why I didn’t listen to any of the other servants when they said that you’d replace me and send me off. Why I didn’t listen when they said I’d never be any more than a servant to you.”

Gyomei muttered your name, but you didn’t listen.

You bunched up your clothes, squeezing your thighs to tightly, the pressure became painful on your skin. The pain calmed you, focused you to what you wanted to say, no, scream.

“But what am I supposed to do here?” You cried out. “What’ll happen if she gets pregnant? Or I do? Do you think your wife in name will allow me to stay here if she ever found out? Do you think you’d still love me once she has your children? When once every two months feels too little?”

“I’ve-”

“And the worst part? When were you planning to tell me this?” Your speech comes out frazzled, and you can’t even follow your own lines of thought anymore. All you know is that you can yell endless objections his way, and the hurt in your chest wouldn’t diminish, but it was still better than keeping silent. “The other servants are already planning a wedding, they have been for weeks. Did you think I just wouldn’t notice?”

“I can hear how this affects you, beloved.” Tears ran down his face, but for the first time in your life, it wasn’t sympathy brewing up inside you, but anger. Hypocrite, you wanted to yell, liar. “This was never my intent.”

For all your fears of being sent away, for a second you wish he would. That way, at least, you’d never have to see him again, and you’d finally be rid of this entire conversation. It was a strange wish, since you knew that if it ever came true, you’d fall to your knees and curse the very god you wished to. 

Gyomei pushed the table with tea to the side, and held open his arms, a familiar offer where you’d normally leap at the possibility of affection. Now it felt forced, affection offered because he was uncomfortable with the situation he’d created. What did he think would come of this? 

You didn’t move. 

“Please, beloved. Have some faith.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.” You repeated, for a second shocked at the way you lashed out at him. Even in your most intimate moments, you’d always been a bit careful with your words, since you didn’t want to be considered rude. Now, you didn’t really care. If he called you rude after all he’d put you through, you’d know enough.”Just tell me. What was the plan here? What did you think would happen?”

“I…” 

You stood up, not stopped this time by any large hands. “I think… Hiyako was right. I still have some family in the city. I’ll go see if I can stay there for some time.”

How swiftly the tides changed. 

Just earlier you’d begged to be allowed to stay, wished to every god present to be able to continue to reside here, if only to never have to worry about demons again. Now the sentiment made you nauseous. Getting killed by demons was preferable to this… this! 

Though you also knew you’d probably regret saying this later.

“What? No.” Gyomei immediately rebutted. “You’ll not be travelling by yourself to the city. Have you no idea how dangerous that is?”

“Fine. Then I’ll go to the village and wait till someone else also makes the journey.” You snapped. “Is that alright?”

“No! Of course not. You could be-” Gyomei wasn’t used to feeling this riled up, his entire chest thumping with something wild. Something he usually managed to keep locked inside, chained by mantras and routine. “A party of two will not protect against demons. Please just stay here.”

“Isn’t Genya going to the capital tomorrow?”

“No.”

“I’m quite sure he was planning to-”

“You will not leave to the city.” It seemed he had figured out he didn’t really need  to listen to your decisions, as he could undo them just as well. If word got out that you were a runaway, in contrast with a fired servant, no one would help you leave. “That’s final.”

“Then what?”

“You stay. I’ll work this out.” Gyomei stood up and moved toward you. As close as you’d been to leaving, to opening the door and never coming back, you decide against struggling when he wraps his arms around you and carries you back to where he’d been seated earlier. He cradles you in his arms as he sits again, and if you weren’t so upset and angry, you’d feel safe. “I promise you. As long as I live, you will not be left wanting.”

“I will be.” You assured. “You cannot give me what I want.”

A small part of you had hoped this all to be a misunderstanding, that the wedding was coming, but that it’d been for you and Gyomei. It had been the dream of a small girl, not the full grown woman you were today. 

Anger made way for exhaustion, and as he cradled you, with no way of escape, you just settled down. It was warm, being held like this. His broad and toned arms wrapped around you so tightly and as you exhaled and inhaled softly, trying to catch your breath, the scent of pinecones and grass hit your nose. It was all very familiar.

All you felt was longing.

What’d you’d give to be the one sitting next to him during the day, lie in his bed without worrying when the sun would rise, eating with him whenever work would allow, kissing him-

“I’ll kill her.” Gyomei sighed. “After the wedding.”

Your eyes widened as you were forcibly thrown out of your musings, and for a second you wondered if you’d actually heard him correctly. 

“Gyomei?”

“I’ll kill her.” He repeated. “I promise.”

“What? Don’t say such things.” You immediately hushed. “It isn’t funny.”

“It was always the plan, as agreed to by master Kaguya.” Gyomei wiped away some of your tears, ignoring the ones streaming over his own face. “The corps needs the funds, but as I told him as well, I cannot bear leaving you. This was the compromise we ended up on.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt the need to ask such a thing, but forgive me for asking.” You had to, this didn’t make any sense. “Are you lying? What are you talking about?”

“I knew this would also hurt you, so I tried keeping it from you, but I cannot stand to have you suffering any longer, beloved.” He kissed your forehead. “Please never doubt my devotion to you.”

“But-” Your face was pressed into his yukata, as if to smother any further objections. Unable to let this go, however, you pressed your palms against his chest so you could distance your mouth far enough from his clothes to speak. “She’s human. You- You wouldn’t kill someone just for money?”

“Money that will save other lives. I’ve been ensured it’s quite necessary for the survival of the corps.” He sighed. “Please do not worry about this. You will not attend the ceremony, and you will not be here when it happens. I’ll make sure her name will never even be mentioned in your presence.”

It is quiet for a while as you try to comprehend the situation, as well as to analyse exactly what you are feeling, as your turmoil switched targets rather rapidly, and you are unsure what exactly is happening. 

Gyomei was going to killthe new mistress?

“Could I… attend?” After feeling such hatred for the woman in question, now you just wanted to warn her and send her home. She was probably forced into the union by her parents, yet to ever meet her husband, unknowing of the atrocity he was planning. “Please?”

Gyomei was silent for a while and suddenly smiled, so lovingly it made your heart nearly combust, despite the dire circumstances. “I think we both know why that wouldn’t be ideal.”

Your new goal wasn’t completely out of reach yet. You were a servant here, after all. You knew all the ins and outs of every room, and the schedule of most of the guards. 

No one would be suspicious if you went to the bride’s chambers with some fresh flowers, though you knew Gyomei would know it was you if his new bride suddenly ran off without a word. That didn’t matter, you were still sure he’d never harm a hair on your head. You could save her.

“You mentioned family in the city right?” Gyomei mentioned, still smiling so overwhelmingly affectionate. For a second you understood how he could perceive the world, since you were sure that even with eyes closed, you’d feel love radiating off the man. How you’d ever doubted his devotion was uncertain, but this new situation wasn’t ideal either. “Perhaps it would be nice to visit them during the occasion? I’ll have someone trustworthy accompany you.”

You nearly cursed as he used your words against you, and considered alternatives. Perhaps Hiyako would assist you, if you could not be there in person. Warn her and tell her to leave and never come back.

“I can tell you haven’t given up.” Gyomei stood up and carried you through the room, very pointedly making his way to his private quarters. It seemed he wanted to make things right once and for all, relishing in the way your hurt was no longer heartbreak.“It is sweet of you to be so caring, but I assure you that this is a matter you’d best leave alone.”

“I just don’t understand.” You eventually said, unsure how to combine your image of upstanding hashira with the man that now held you. “Youdon’t kill humans. You- You’re the kindest, most empathetic man I know. How could you ever go through with something like that?”

“For the corps, and for your sake-” Gyomei said, uncompromising, hands moving to undo the knot keeping your kimono together.”I would do anything.”

Please request only one person if you want a prompt. I know that I wrote in the past for more than one character but I can write with more ease when it comes to fluid writing when I can focus on only one character. I don’t know why that is though, I guess otherwise I feel too drained afterwards.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, manipulation, clinginess, gaslighting, abduction

Prompt 28: “I need you more than I need air to breathe.”

You wanted to cease to exist or die right in that moment, tears silently dripping down your cheeks despite your best attempts to bite them back. The abhorred and terrifying closeness between you and him had you wishing to be swallowed by Mother Earth and feeling his cold hands and his sharp nails on your neck, arms and back had your insides recoil with disgust and horror.

It was sheer fear that kept you seated obediently on his lap, hands folded awkwardly and eyes glued on them. His touch was unbearable enough, his gaze would only give you the rest. You despised those plum red eyes, all high and mighty, judging you and examining you.

You loathed those eyes because you couldn’t recognize any emotion that could have made the monster he was in front of you even the slightest bit more human. Muzan was cold-blooded, narcissistic and menacing and the pure gleam of obsession and possessiveness whenever you locked eyes with him was enough to make you feel nauseous.

Even this rather lovely gesture right now was eerie and frightening you to your bones. It was toxic because of the fondness he was currently expressing, keeping you placed on his lap, caressing your body and even going through the troubles of wiping away your tears every now and then.

You could even hear him taking calm and deep breaths to savor your scent and could feel the exhaled air tickling your skin, a contrast to your own suppressed sniffles and sobs.

You didn’t dare to relax and lower your guard, not when this man was Kibutsuji Muzan. You never had felt more out of place either. Thrown into a world full of demons with the king of them keeping you in here for himself, for reasons unknown to you still.

In moments of coldness he was implanting fear into your heart, snarling at you in his monotone voice that you should be grateful that he even spared your life and took you in. In moments where he seemed to lower his guard and became more intimate and open with you, he claimed to love you, expressed a desire to protect you yet in his eyes you had only ever seen an infatuated obsession and the greed to own you.

You stifled when one of his thumbs slid right over the pulse on your neck, the fear to be pierced by his claws embedded in your soul.

“I’m not going to hurt you, darling. Right now you don’t have to be afraid.”

That nickname made you want to cringe away though you refrained yourself from doing so, fearing to anger him in the process. It was probably still better than being labeled as a “feeble human”.

“You fascinate me. Somehow I need you more than I need air to breathe.”

The moment he forced you to meet his eyes, you felt sick to the core. You hated that look in his eyes that saw you more as a priced possession than a living being, something to own.

“I wonder what else you’ll surprise me with.”