#yandere Charlotte family

[unicreamuwu]

hello, can you make perospero, katakuri, and cracker yandere headcanons ? thnx

Bruh, you chose all my favorites, why? 😘

Warnings: Yandere Theme, Manipulation, Kidnapping

Charlotte Perospero

Being the oldest of the Charlotte family, he can get away with anything.

When he first kidnapped you, you of course begged him to release you.

Of course, again, he declined it or just ignored you.

He is also a great manipulator.

Whenever you're planning to go somewhere, he has already plans for you.

For example, help him plan to attack another part of a random island that you have no idea how to do.

When he proposed and married you, he promised to himself that he would always make you stay by your stay even though you already do.

Charlotte Katakuri

Out of all the three, he's the best one.

He may be dangerous on the outside, but on the inside, he's such a sweetheart.

Well, towards you, of course.

When he finishes going on a mission and coming back home, he brings tons of sweets for you and himself.

You can eat any pastries you want except for donuts cause that's his and only hid.

Whenever you get injured from something small or big, he will carry you over his shoulder and run to the infirmary of the castle.

He will be by your side 24/7 and watches over you to make sure you don't move.

When you tell him that you're okay, he would let a sigh of relief, but still wouldn't leave you alone.

Charlotte Cracker

Cracker is not the nicest yandere to be with.

However, he can be sweet, but you have to earn that.

For example, you have to do whatever he tells you to do and have to be good around him every time.

Or else, he's going to be the bad guy~

He will teach you how to fight if you want to.

Because he's not going to protect you 24/7.

And, the sweetest thing that Cracker has ever done for you is that when he comes back home from a mission, he'll bring you a shit ton of flowers.

So, be grateful that he could be nice to you.

[fleet-admiral-hiba]

A GOD AMONGST MEN

A/n: as a kid, you knew you were always special. Being a god among mortals made you inexplicably happy. And so did your family. But you never understood why men and humanity in general had to be so…hypocritical.

A forgotten god, one that watched over death and the underworld. A being that could turn the tides of a soul with the drop of a hat. But you wanted to see why people forgot the old ways, why they forgot you.

You reincarnated into a young kid, in a family that was surrounded by death. The name Big Mom rang a bell in your head: during her youth she had been one of your champion, among many. She had always brought you offerings, and you always accepted her pleas.

But seeing first hand the reason of so much destruction and death, warmed your cold little heart. His children, now your brothers and sisters adores you.

You were different, colder, sharper. They loved your dedication to the family while praising your skills in battle. You were young for the human standards, but you had been around a long time. With other deities, once upon a forgotten time.

But now, you understood why people had forgotten the old ways. Greed fueled the search for an unknown treasure, the so called rulers and emperors did nothing but play into this big scheme. There was no time to pray for a good harvest, for health and blessings.

Not when the main objective was to survive, one way or another. If it wasn’t for the so called “pirates” enforcing they life, pillaging, stealing and destroying every land upon which they set sail towards, the protectors of justice, the WG and their dogs, the marines, will do the rest.

In the end, there was only survivors among predators.

Yet, you felt no need to change the way things were now.

You were a god amongst men, you had your flock to tend to, and they offered you praise daily. They prayed to you with such fervor, that would have frightened a normal being. But you were no mere mortal: you were the god of death and destruction, of chaos and terror. You lived to watch the chaos unfold.

You were overjoyed when a catastrophe happened: it meant more power to you.

Even if they didn’t know, you weren’t a forgotten god. In every heart, every minds and souls of those who brought pain and suffering, you were there. They prayed to you in different ways, but you heard them all.

And you granted them hearings whenever they needed.

For you were not a forgotten piece of history.

You were the one who started it all.

And your name… has forever been forgotten.

You are the one who shan’t be named.

Your name rang fear even in the heart of the shadow that ruled the word.

You were…

Imu

[fanaticsnail]

Sooo if we’re doing yandere can we please get some yandere katakuri ?

It's been a little while since I've written for our dear Katakuri, and I wanted to see how this would play out. Thank you for your ask! 🖤🐌

Safety

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,700+

Synopsis: As housekeeper to Charlotte Linlin, Katakuri saw you as part of his family. He is obsessed with ensuring you are safe, being a human so much smaller than he was and around such a large family. He is doing all of this, just to ensure your safety. Sometimes that means following you home and watching you from outside your bed chambers.

Themes: yandere!Katakuri x gn!reader, yandere trope, hinted nudity, showers, obsessive tendencies, obsessive behaviours, almost kissing, confessions of love.

Notes: I have only written a few fics for Katakuri, but I adore the big guy. I hope you don't mind him with a little bit of obsession over his features.

Tag list: @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @i-am-vita

Amber lights illuminate and press over your skin the moment you enter into your living space within the servants quarters of his mother’s bed chambers. The soft crack of your fire popped and caused you to jump and giggle at the soft interruption. Slowly removing your apron and overcoat, you placed your uniform in your wicker basket for washing on your day off tomorrow.

As housekeeper and confidant to Charlotte Linlin, you were never far from the source of vengeance and wrath from the larger woman. Your body was pushed to the limits when preparing her pastries, fudges and cakes, and was also subject to aiding her in her daily routine: preparing her facial features with paints and powders, and dressing her in her garments for the day.

You were so small in comparison, so frail and meek when compared to the giants who lorded the land. So defenseless and helpless should Linlin express her disdain and wrath physically directed at you. You needed a loyal guard dog, a protector, a warrior to ensure your safety within the grounds and an escort to your suite.

At least, that's what Katakuri told himself you needed. And he was more than willing to provide such a service.

His ruby gaze trailed your body from his position sitting on the ground with his back pressed against the tree outside your window. His lips were partially parted, his eyelids falling to half-mast as his desire for you only grew and grew the longer you served his mother.

You were so small, he could wrap his fist around you in one hand. He wanted to keep you safe, to keep you secure, to ensure you would never go wanting for anything as his mother’s young confidant. He loved his family, and as such: you were an extension of such a title as someone residing in such close quarters.

This had become his nightly ritual: going about his day as earl of flour, writing to officials within his mother's vast nakama, ensuring her title as Yonko remained intact and secure, and following you home to ensure your safety from a distance to not alarm you at the end of your shift with his mother. You were so precious to him, so innocent and pure within Komugi Island.

As you rid yourself of your daily attire and readied yourself for your nightly bath, a warm tint of pink dampened Katakuri’s cheeks with the flood of blood pooling within. He told himself this was private, something you didn't mean to be seen by another individual, and he begged his eyes to pull away from gazing up at you. But the longer he looked, the more he longed.

His sharpened canines began to shake and chatter against one another as he consumed your form, telling himself he was truly ensuring you were safe from any who wished to do you harm. His gaze continued to hold over you as you stepped within the shroud of your bathroom walls. Steam exited the vents from the cement wall beside your quarters, the scents of citrus, flower petals and eucalyptus flooding his nostrils while picturing the lather of bubbled suds over your skin.

Shaking his head, he cast all impure thoughts away from him as he fixed his eyes on the ground in front of him. He was your knight for the night, not some pervert attempting to peek into your bed chambers in hopes of meeting with your bare flesh. He was here to keep you safe from those who lurked in the dark, not to have you fear him more for his actions.

A hum called him away from his thoughts, the familiar tune you would sing to yourself every night ringing out in perfect pitch. Closing his eyes, he allowed the moment to be shared with him as his own deep baritone hummed the counterpart along with you. His soul began to mourn your meeting, crave your contact, and yearn for a simple touch that his obsession with ensuring your safety was not to be misinterpreted as lust.

At the last thought, his eyes snapped open. His pupils narrowed, his brow furrowed, and his sharp teeth grimaced at such horror. He was not in love with you, this was truly about keeping you safe. He did not want to hold you, kiss you, consume you and ravish you with romantic intensity that could rival all others.

Did he?

As you stepped out of your bathing quarters in a fluffed robe and your hands drying your hair with a plush towel, it truly dawned on him. Watching your smile grow as you began to dress yourself in comfortable sleepwear and sat by the fire to heat your hair and dry your scalp with book in hand, he truly was struck in the chest like his trident in the thick of battle.

He did want all of those things with you. He was in love with you. Truly, deeply, and painfully in love with you. His love for you propelled him to do these things, to keep you safe, to shepherd you from harm, to check the future with his haki to ensure no slip ups resulted in your pain. He loved you with every chasm of his chest, and vein that coursed through him.

As his eyes drew up once he had dealt with this internally, you were gone. Panic coursed through him, his heart fluttering and immediately readying himself to prepare to fight whoever stole you from his sights. Standing to his full height of seventeen feet and hardening his stance, he was shocked once again at the opening of your front door and your form glaring at him with an unwavering gaze.

“Are you going to tell me why you are following me, lord Charlotte?” your chastising hum slashed into him with invisible blades, holding him both hostage and accountable for his nightly routine.

Taking several moments of being held beneath your scrutiny, Katakuri took a lengthy inhale before exhaling his woes.

“I swore to myself to keep you safe,” he confessed, lowering his eyes and buckling his knee to kneel before you and fall at eye height, “And safe is where you will be, with me ensuring it.” He continued to hang his head, his nose and lip remaining hidden beneath his furred shroud.

“Safe from what? The shower and my bedroom?” you press him, walking forward with your robe flowing at your knees and parting slightly with each step. “Lord Charlotte, I know you have been following me for several months now. I have never felt safer, but,” you finally reach him, his large head the size of your torso and hidden from you beneath his plum-colored hair, “I am lost for reason as to why you are doing this.”

He froze, feeling your body so much closer than he was accustomed to experiencing, inhaling the scents you had washed yourself with in the shower so close, and consumed with longing for you. He didn't want to lie, but he was growing wary of how you would interpret the truth from him. Biting back his nerves, he scrunched his eyes tightly shut and slowly whispered out his hushed confession.

“Because I am in love with you,” he waited with baited breath, making himself as small as possible by deepening his lunge and hanging his head lower.

Your soft hand cradled his cheek, lifting his eyes to meet with yours and revealing his sharpened teeth to you for the first time. He was overcome with panic as your eyes darted immediately to his lips, but his panic softened into confusion as all he was met with was a gentle smile and a warmness in your eyes.

“Forgive me,” he mouthed, his voice lost to him the longer you cradled his larger cheek, “I do not wish to frighten you. I just-... I just wanted nothing more than to keep you safe from all harm.” He darted his eyes between yours, his gaze somewhere between consumed with humility, and plagued with an underlying argument with himself, “You are so special to me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, lord Charlotte,” you lulled your head to the side, continuing to examine his features and darting over his stooped body, “And I can say I have grown a fondness for you too. I think it's due to the fact I always know where I go, you're only a few feet behind me. It's a comfort, truly.”

Stepping closer to him, you cup the other side of his face within your small hand and smile down at him in his low kneel. You raised his chin, prompting him to angle his face higher up to take in your form without filter or shroud of the fact that he truly loved you.

“All that remains is where we go from here,” you giggled down at him, the hum of your voice ringing like a soft, pleasant bell in his ears and raising a smile over his lips.

“In what way do you mean?” he asked, his ruby eyes half lidded and longing for more from you. Inching down closer to his lips, you hover yours over his and whisper in a smooth and sultry tone.

“Well, lord Charlotte, I am unsure if my living quarters are truly safe,” you smiled down at him, his lips parting as they shuddered forward in anticipation of meeting with yours. “Can you come inside and check them for me?” You pull away from his face and gaze down into his eyes, “That is what you were ensuring, correct? My safety?”

Charlotte Katakuri’s eyelashes fluttered with a soft stuttered blink, never truly widening them once reopening. He was consumed with pride at the notion you wanted to keep him with you, finally receiving permission to continue his nightly task of ensuring your protection from a closer vantage point.

“If that is what you so desire,” he whispered in response, slowly leaning into your touch with his chin before pulling away from your grip entirely, “I would never leave you fearing for your safety. Please, lead me on and show me where you feel the most frightened.”

Slowly raking your eyes over his features, your gaze turned hungry and possessive to mirror his own features.

“I can admit, I am plagued by nightmares of late, my lord,” slowly drawing your fingers down to tease at the chest-lining of your bathrobe. A slow, unintentional and protective growl rose up in Katakuri's chest as his lust now blackened his irises. Rising to his feet, he extended his right hand out to you and purred down from his impressive height.

“Then we shall start in your bedchambers.”

[yanderes-galore]

Omg I love ur yandere one piece fics! So if I may 👀 could I ask for a concept of charlotte katakuri? Love this man <3

Yandere! Katakuri Charlotte Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Arranged marriage, Manipulation, Possessive/Protective behavior, Isolation, His family enables him (Always fun....), Stalking, Forced relationship.

Katakuri is an interesting case since he cares so much about family.

By that logic, I can see him being platonic or romantic,

However... For this concept I will be focusing on a romantic plot for this concept.

To most, Katakuri is a very serious general who works to please his family.

He's calm, diligent, and intimidating to most.

That's how his family wishes to see him and that's the side he's most known for.

How I personally imagine a romantic Katakuri happening is probably an arranged marriage situation.

Those who have watched/read One Piece will know that Big Mom is obsessed with weddings.

It isn't that difficult to think that she'd prepare a wedding for her second son, right?

It would either be because your family is important... or Katakuri was expressing an interest for a while in you.

Your first formal meeting with Katakuri would be when you hear he's meant to be your fiance.

You two are so different it's jarring.

First of all, your husband towers over you.

Second of all, he seems so uninterested in your arranged marriage.

Your first meeting is so awkward, his size and stature make you so uneasy.

However, you make a mistake when reading him.

No, Katakuri isn't uninterested.

In fact he's quite intrigued to have you as his fiance.

Maybe even excited if he's had his eyes on you for a while.

Katakuri is an intimidating man, but he wouldn't hurt his obsession.

He tries to be caring, even if he appears to be cold when doing it.

He always keeps an eye on you, even when you sleep.

There's times you have never seen him rest, always on guard around you.

He's honorable, always checking in on you like he does with his siblings.

Except when it comes to you, things are different since you're meant to be his fiance.

You think he's just doing it to appease his mother, just like how you're trying to protect your own family from Big Mom's wrath.

However, that isn't entirely true... Katakuri does love you himself, not just for his mother.

He's just... awkward with showing it since he hates being vulnerable.

Katakuri would not enjoy being vulnerable around you for a bit.

He feels he needs to be a protective husband for you, that's his role....

You shouldn't see him when he's vulnerable.

It's a sad life for him, honestly.

Even when you're married, or at least the months prior, you probably came across him when he was most vulnerable by accident.

Admittedly, this no doubt leads into an argument.

He hates people seeing him like this, even those he's kind to.

Even more so since he's insecure about his mouth.

You may even think he's going to hurt you right there in your shared room... Until you think quickly and tell him you don't mind his vulnerability.

Due to his obsession, it makes him pause.

You... You accept that? Really?

Honestly, seeing Katakuri vulnerable may make you enjoy his presence more.

Are you still upset you're being forced to marry? Yes.

Yet you're less scared of the man when you're in private.

Originally you were more closed off and nervous.

Now you feel a bit more comfortable, even if he still refuses to show his mouth to you at times.

He'd kill anyone else for seeing him like that, but the way you were so open makes him stunned.

Uncharacteristically, I personally think his obsession makes Katakuri flustered when they're alone.

You just can barely see it under the scarf.

Katakuri is also careful of your small size.

He knows he towers over you due to his genes, so when he holds you he's very careful.

He keeps you against his chest and is surprisingly soft, like mochi.

While Katakuri tries to be caring and nice, he can also still be a threat.

Mostly to anyone around you.

Katakuri, with you as his fiance, is naturally going to be protective of you.

It borders on possessive, really.

He isn't keen on letting anyone around you too close.

Sometimes he even dislikes his family around you.

While he's nice to you, he isn't going to just let you leave either.

Katakuri is probably one of the hardest yanderes to escape.

Once you're his fiance, there isn't any going back.

You could try to escape during the first few months before you're married...

But it won't last long.

With Katakuri's mochi powers, there's a good chance you're going to be caught.

He could straight up turn the floor to mochi and make you stuck just long enough to pick you up.

Plus, think of the consequences of trying to leave a marriage with him?

He's the second son of an Emperor.

Nothing good comes from angering Big Mom, trust me.

Katakuri learning of your escape attempt is a mercy.

I don't doubt his siblings would help catch you, too.

If someone was helping you escape, Katakuri would track them... and they most likely won't live.

Other than his family, you are one of the most important things he has in his life.

If he has to keep you under constant surveillance until the marriage happens, then he will.

Once you do officially get married, Katakuri nearly never has you alone.

When you sleep, he's there.

He'll even hold you if it means you're in his sight.

He has to be very careful with affection due to his size.

So... nothing too intense.

Before you know of his mouth, he'd do mock kisses as he held you with his scarf.

Although afterwards, he doesn't mind kissing you in private with his actual mouth.

You are the only person who deserves to see him vulnerable.

He's meant to be your husband, after all.

While he can be soft and caring with you...

Blood being spilled for you isn't uncommon either.

Truth is, you were his the second Big Mom arranged this marriage...

You aren't escaping Whole Cake Island now.

[yandereend]

I'm officially in love with Dorian, could you please do another chapter? Maybe reader is willing to be kidnapped? I'll leave it up to you <3

Me too<3 but to be honest I think everyone who reads yandere fiction wants to be kidnapped too😅

Yandere pretty boy

Your new life

TW : yandere stuff, kidnapped reader, Dorian is interesting…

P.2 / let me know if you want more

Your new life was more than interesting, but a welcomed suprise nonetheless.

To be honest you always hoped this would happen. School was shit, it always was. The people were fake, the teachers annoying and the grades not so great.

The best thing that happened in school was meeting Dorian, he was so nice and pretty. So spending every day in his mansion with him was great. He even gave you a new phone which you could use when he supervised.

Being kidnapped was only bad for a short time. Maybe faking your death was a bit of a overkill on Dorians part, but when you realized that your parents didn’t care you gave in.

So now you had private cooks, maids and every other thing you always expected from rich people. Sometimes it was even kinda cliche how often Dorian called for a maid, but that’s just how he grew up.

You also didn’t have to go through any punishments you heard of in other yandere stories cause you loved your new life. And thanks to that you’re and Dorians relationship was still going strong.

You two woke up togheter and you helped him getting ready for school. Then you two would eat breakfast with each other and say goodbye to each other. And then you were without Dorian for the next eight hours.

His father would also leave with him, going to work. You realized that Dorians obsessive personality came from his father, who acted with his wife the same way Dorian acted with you. But Roger was a very nice after he warmed up to you.

And when both left the house you were left with his mother.

You new best friend.

Charlotte was the nicest woman you ever met and also by far the prettiest. Even though she was 38 she looked like she was at most in her late twenties. And her youthfulness was complemented be her naive personality.

As you learned over the first month Charlotte was kidnapped by roger at only 16 years. It was love at first sight for him. He realized she was too pure for the world and would not survive on her own (his words). So he „rescued“ her and gave her the best life. And now they had a happy family with the newest addition being you.

Maybe a few rookier parts of the story where being brushed over by everyone, but hey in the end everything was fine … right?

What would your next step be, my love?

Btw a part about Charlotte and rogers past where wasn’t as obedient as reader kn the beginning ? Let me know if you want that <3

🩵Please let me know if you enjoyed it especially the person who asked, i love taking requests 🩵

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌. — !# :

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: You and Griffith were the best of friends since childhood trying to get by in the kingdom of Midland. After a lack of communication for years due to a fight that cost you two your friendship, you and Griffith are invited to the same ball, where you two lock eyes together. Such a scenario is harmless, right? What could possibly go wrong?

𝖈𝖜: dubcon, mild sexual tension, implied stalking.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: I must admit this was rushed. However, I have no regrets writing this.

“Griffith…. I can’t do this. I can’t afford our friendship to transcend into something more. My parents don’t approve of our…relationship. It’s best if we just stop meeting each other, okay?”

Chandeliers filled the ceiling of the ballroom, illuminating bright enough to light up the whole venue. The windows were decorated with crimson red curtains and white roses, giving off that elegant feel one could ever ask for when stepping into the palace. The doors were made of gold, stainless steel, and intricate patterns that boasted the wealth Midland’s kingdom had over the nations.

This feeling was a dream come true, you thought, as you danced with your partner of the night. You weren’t beyond friends, but it was nice having someone to tag along when dancing to the rhythm of classical music that echoed through the halls.

You were beautifully adorned with a gown as black as ebony and a flower crown that gave emphasis to your crowning glory. There is indeed beauty in the smallest of things the moment you step foot into the ball, giving you a glimpse of what it feels to be in possession of the luxury you usually never had. Is this what it was like being a part of the elite and the royal family in Midland? Perhaps.

You swore to yourself that there was nothing that could get in the way of your amazing time at the ball. You had a handsome partner to dance with, appetizing food and drink you could turn to in moments of hunger and thirst, and your friends to accompany you as the time passed. Your parents trusted your friends enough to protect and be by your side in case things don’t turn out rough ….so far as to let you be invited with your friends to sleep at the guest rooms of the palace.

You were a close friend of Princess Charlotte, which granted you some privilege at least. She handed out invitations to you and your friends to join the feast as it was her birthday being the main focus of the celebration. But what bothered you is her friendship with someone you refused to speak of—a man with long, wavy, and flowing white hair and a pair of icy blue eyes. A man whose dream was to build his own kingdom and have people work for his rule. A man who once claimed you as someone he wanted to keep for as long as time stretches itself into the void. A man who was once your childhood friend, but was somehow separated from you because of your family disapproving of the relationship.

It didn’t take even a second. The moment you looked back, he was amongst the crowd, right behind you and your partner. Seeing him dancing with another woman felt almost strange to you, as he wasn’t one to mingle with other girls other than just you. Anyhow, you chose to move on. Your parents always had a disdain for him, claiming he was a dangerous, selfish young man who took pleasure in taking lives within the battlefield. They say it wasn’t a very smart decision to be friends with him, and the fact that he confessed his feelings for you enraged your family even further.

You dared not revisit the past, better yet, you’d rather not reminisce about your friendship with him. He was not good for you, end of story.

“Griffith, I’ve had it. Let’s just stop meeting here, okay? Our relationship serves ZERO benefits and I just can’t stand the sight of you anymore!”

“Then we’ll fix things one by one. What is it about me that you so despise, hm?”

“The bloodshed, the destruction, the violence you constantly put yourself in! Why would I, a diplomatic person advocating for peace within Midland, care enough to associate myself with a monster who takes innocent lives like you!”

“You know that I take lives for the money. It is a part of what I wanted, dear. A dream the both of us can indulge in, if you so desire. I cannot abandon my dream. I will never betray it. Causing bloodshed isn’t just a hobby, it’s a part of my DREAM. And I shall NOT abandon it over your will.”

“Griffith…..I-”

“I told you this a long time ago but you recall that I said it once, and I would say it over and over again. You belong to me. Not even your family would break the bond we two once shared, and not even their disapproval of our relationship would stop the lengths I’d go just to have you in my grasp.”

Those were the last words that came into mind the moment your eyes darted to the man you so despised. He had a charming exterior, yes, but his ambitions were something you didn’t want yourself to be associated with. After cutting ties with him for good, you saw him once again in this ball. What a shame. You tried keeping your eyes off him by looking away, but things were too late as his stare met yours. Griffith, the man himself, knew not to abandon his partner, but this time he felt the urge to do so.

He always recognized you, from your well-donned makeup to your stunning black gown and flower crown.

Griffith was left with no doubt that he was looking at his one and only childhood friend who abandoned him. His gaze wasn’t that of an innocent look, his icy blue eyes staring at you in anger from head to toe. His eyes undressed and penetrated into your very being, it almost gave you goosebumps. Your eyes darted elsewhere as you looked back at your partner.

“Is there something wrong?” your partner asked.

“No, nothing of the sort.” you responded. “It’s just that….I feel as though I am being watched.”

“That’s definitely not right, do you want to leave the ballroom this early? I’ll inform the guards of your willful departure.”

“No, no…I-I can handle it.” you stuttered. “Just leave me be. I won’t let someone ruin my stay at this wondrous celebration.”

“Hey there!” Princess Charlotte greeted you from afar. “Are you enjoying the ball so far?”

“Ah! Yes, yes I am. However….”

“Oh, what seems to be the matter? You can tell me anything that bothers you!”

“I feel as if someone is watching me….” you said, your voice slightly shaky. “It must be him….”

“You mean…Griffith?” Princess Charlotte asked. “I don’t know much about you two, but I do hear he’s up to something…..”

“What is that ‘something’ you speak of, Princess?” you asked.

“He’s up to sleeping with someone for the night. Who knows who it is, he’s always….sleeping around, that is…” Princess Charlotte laughed. “Are you alright?”

“Well, for some weird reason, I’m not surprised. Griffith has never been the type to stick around with one anyway. He’s better off without me.” you scoffed.

“Awwww….[Name], don’t say that! I’m sure this ball would pave an opportunity for you two to reconcile! And, you know….have the two of you become friends again!” Princess Charlotte replied. “So cheer up! Come on now, would you like a drink?”

“Sure!” you agreed.

After a few drinks, you were dazed and confused with what surrounded you in the ballroom. Your partner and friends were half drunk, and you couldn’t deny how you felt tipsy after seven shots of sweet champagne.

“[Name]!! Are you alright?” Princess Charlotte asked, concerningly.

“I’m alright, Princess. Thank you for asking. I…just had…a few drinks, perhaps…? Can I….go to my bedroom now, please?” you stammered, slightly dizzy and lightheaded from the alcohol you consumed for the night.

“Oh, sure thing! Guards! Kindly escort my dear friend to the guest rooms, please!” Princess Charlotte called out.

Princess Charlotte hosting a sleepover for some guests was something you didn’t expect off your bucket list. When you were invited to her birthday celebration, you were more than excited to spend the night with your friends and the Princess….what you did NOT expect was Griffith being invited as well.

You were escorted to the top floor of the palace. All walls in each guest room were soundproof to avoid unwanted noises from interrupting other guests who were fast asleep. You, on the other hand, had to leave the party early due to your slight drunkenness. While carrying you to bed, your belongings were also brought back to the room beside the bedpost. The guards left you on your own, leaving the door slightly open in case you needed assistance from the servants of the palace.

Hours passed, and you fell fast asleep after feeling quite tipsy at Princess Charlotte’s ballroom party. Things weren’t occurring out of the ordinary, up until the door creaked open. Things weren’t right. Someone entered the room.

You were startled by the door opening, only for it to be closed once again, the lock of the door being heard aloud. It was quite pitch black in the night, the only source of light being the lightning that struck every once in a while. You had no clue of who entered the room, but you were suddenly filled with fear once you came back to your senses. The intrusion was unexpected, and you made a guess on who entered your room in such an ungodly hour. You were right.

It was Griffith.

You were intimidated by the silhouette that appeared before you, but that didn’t give you a reason to cower in fear. In fact, this gave you an opportunity to call for the guards despite being slightly drunk.

“Are you not going to play dumb with me this time, [Name]?” he asked, his anger being quite apparent with his words.

You saw this coming. You recognized that voice—it was that of a commander’s, like he’s always been. Chills ran down through your spine, not because you were afraid of him, but because you were frightened of what was about to happen next.

You felt a sense of urgency it almost hurts to not speak up.

“Griffith? What do you think you’re doing here?! Get out before I call the guards!”

“Do you really want to leave our relationship this badly? Hm?” Griffith asked. “Here I am, asking for one chance to fix the scars of our past, and after all we’ve been through, this is how you repay me?”

“Our relationship was never beyond friendship, Griffith. If you think I’d come back to you for the sake of partaking in your sick, twisted idea of a dream…you are gravely mistaken.”

“You aren’t useful to me just for the sake of my dream. I want you, [Name]. I’ve been watching you all along since we parted ways right in that village. And this time is where I arrive to claim what’s rightfully mine.” Griffith announced, taking five steps closer to your bed as you stared at the door planning your escape route. In an attempt to put both hands on your shoulders, you pushed him away.

“I was never yours.” you replied, bravely. “I wasn’t yours and I’ll never be yours. Please cut me some slack and leave at once, or I’ll have to call the guards on you.”

“The walls are soundproof and the doors are locked. Looks like there’s no room left for you to hide, hm? Just surrender your freedom to me. By surrendering to me, you’ll find peace once we establish our own kingdom.”

“Ever since you found the Band of The Hawk, I’ve already been looking for ways to avoid your company. You just aren’t the one for me, Griffith. I’m better off not knowing you’d engage in such savage battles, having people die and kick the bucket for the sake of achieving your dream.”

“If I can’t have your freedom, then I have no other choice but to force it away from you. I want you in my arms. And I will do anything to make you a part of my dream.”

“No.” you stood up for yourself.

“Are you resisting me….this badly, [Name]?” Griffith asked, ready to pounce onto you. “No. You’re not resisting. You’re not leaving. I won’t allow it.”

“I AM leaving.” In an attempt to stand up and reach for the door outside the guest room, Griffith grabbed you by the wrist with a push strong enough to knock you out towards the queen-sized bed. While you ended up sitting, he took a huge step forward, leaning lower to match your eye level, and forcefully stripped you off by unraveling the straps of your sleeveless black gown. Before you could even utter a word and speak, he pressed his lips right onto yours.

You tried your very best not to kiss him back and show an ounce of enthusiasm in your actions. While his tongue explored you with utmost fervor, you tried to protest with your arms pushing him away and your feet kicking off every obstacle past you. Griffith’s touch, however, was far stronger than you could ever imagine. Your eyes were wide open in shock, trying to escape with all your might though you were already covered in his scent.

Since it was your first kiss, you made an attempt to kiss back in a disorderly fashion so as to piss Griffith off and let him walk away due to your inexperience. But this didn’t stop him. He kissed you in the most aggressive, yet practiced manner imaginable, so far as to render your tongue numb and submissive to his motions. His heavy breathing and humming didn’t help alleviate the situation you both were in either, and you refused to admit that your own childhood friend turned you on.

Griffith wasn’t being gentle around this time, you thought—he had to be straightforward with his motives when dealing with a fragile little thing like you.

You waited like hell for this moment to stop. When Griffith pulled away, you panted hard and set your eyes upon the door.

“Good…..still not taken. Your body is truly miraculous not to feel the touch of another man worthy of your gaze.” Griffith hummed in satisfaction. Forcing your chin to look up at him, he murmured. “Look at me.”

You made a slight effort to look into those eyes you once despised. Griffith’s stare pierced into your very being, you felt as if you were being undressed straight from the way he eyed you from head to toe.

“You will remember this moment from the time we part ways. I want you to dream of this.”

While you were sitting back, Griffith stood upright, taking off his top garment by garment. You thought to yourself that this was your chance—you stood up to walk briskly, only to be found out and pushed back to the bed once again.

“If you think you can escape just because I had other matters to attend to, you are gravely mistaken.” Griffith said.

“What….do you mean by that?” you asked.

“You should be grateful a friend has been willing to give you the attention you so desire. Had I not known you for years, you would have fallen into the arms of the wrong man.”

“Pffft. Talk about being a control freak.” you scoffed. “Let me go.”

“I don’t crave control. I just know what I want.” Griffith replied, undoing his pants to reveal his half-erect member before you.

“Now, suck.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play innocent with me now, dear.”

Griffith grabbed a fistful of your hair without warning, urging you to wrap your mouth around his cock much to your surprise and unwillingness.

“You must comply unless you want to be tossed around to the peasants of the land. Do this. Do this for my dream.”

“Mmmmhhh! Mmmmhhhh!!!”

Rendered unable to speak, your head was forced to bob up and down Griffith’s length as he moaned in satisfaction to your compliance. You tried to retreat, but his grip just strengthened itself as he forced himself down your throat. You tried your best not to let out a sputtering gag, his thrusts growing more animalistic as he was nearing his release.

You groaned in dissatisfaction as Griffith face-fucked you into oblivion while standing up, his frame bare and naked while you were halfway stripped off your gown. If it were not for the darkness that engulfed the palace’s rooms, you would have mistaken the scene to be that of a brothel’s interior.

Without Griffith’s assistance, you wouldn’t know what to do considering this was your first time pleasuring a man. He continued forcefully pushing your head inward and outward his cock with his powerful hand, so as to set the pace he wanted. He grunted as you let out a cough that signified your struggle against his member down your throat. But he didn’t stop right there. He was close to cumming.

It didn’t take long before Griffith pulled away, holding back his cum as he edged himself to save his release for later. Before you realized things, Griffith unzipped your gown, pushing it down and tossing the clothing elsewhere. He lifted you by putting one hand over your ass, and the other hand on your upper back.

Positioning you to lie down on the bed gave him an opportunity to lunge forward onto you, his face landing on your hard nipple. While he suckled on it gently, his two fingers traced its way to your clit, rubbing the nub fast in such a way that pleasured you. The sounds of his moaning, breathing, and humming did nothing more than to instill a feeling of guilt within you. You felt pleasure, yes, but your guilt for doing something sinful with the man you so despised made you want to hurl.

Griffith pulled away, still fingering you. “Mmmm….all the more to love. You seem to be slowly complying with my ways, dear. I like it.”

“Mmmmmhhhh~”

“Go on.”

After egging you on for a few minutes, Griffith edged you even more with his fingers exiting your entrance, earning a groan of frustration from you. Your eyes were closed and focused on his fingers’ rhythm, only to be interrupted by Griffith’s sudden departure from your clit.

“Gri…..ffith….”

“Hm?”

“Do it again…..please….”

Griffith chuckled. “Anything for my princess. Hmmm….I think you are ready to take me whole. But first, I will be needing this lovely cunt of yours to quench my thirst.”

“Ooooooooohhhh~”

Without a single warning, he slid himself between your inner thighs, spreading them wider. Griffith made an effort to raise your legs to rest just above his shoulders, assuming that of a position where he was about to eat you out.

He wasn’t joking. Griffith started to plant small kisses onto your clit, circling his tongue around as if he was French kissing it. His tongue explored every region of your small pearl, suctioning your most sensitive spot gently as to not accidentally hurt you. He used his two fingers to rub off the slick, prepping it before he finally re-inserted them right into your hole. You retaliated.

“Agh! It burns, help!” you protested.

“Bear it.” Griffith said, slightly frowning. “This will be crucial to prepping you way before you get to have me inside. Now, relax yourself, and do as I tell you.”

Griffith stopped talking at that very moment, seriously eyeing your pussy with great passion and dominion over your body. His face landed in between your labia, licking a strip off of your soaked cunt as he thrusted his fingers in and out of your wet entrance. You yelped, both out of burning pain and pleasure.

Then came Griffith’s proper response, he bobbed his head in a specific direction, eating you out like a crazed animal in heat. He spared no untouched region within your virginal depths, lathering his long tongue around your cunt’s sensitive brown/pink surface. Similar to sucking, he moaned while eating you out for his own selfish pleasure, which aroused you to a point of whispering each syllable of his name repeatedly, with a couple of “yes” that left your mouth.

Noises of whimpers and sloppy gobbling sounds filled the guest room, and since everything was soundproof, yelling out for help considering the party was pointless considering the party long ended and everyone invited were already asleep in their designated guest rooms.

Griffith sped up his pace, unleashing his inner freak as he licked and kissed every spot of your pussy’s semi-interior like a hungry wolf.

“Griffith…..I’m gonna….”

This was a sign that urged Griffith to pull away.

“Hold it off.” Griffith commanded.

Your pussy throbbed HARDER as he stopped eating you out in the middle of your incoming orgasm. This moment was truly not the time, you thought, and what you waited for was Griffith’s final goal—to take you in missionary.

“I’m going to take you nice and deep, and you’re going to be a good girl for me, yes?” Griffith asked, letting out a smirk.

You shook your head with all your might, denying that Griffith has been the reason you were soaked up in all this mess. Tears ran down your face, smothering your mascara all over your cheeks even though such wouldn’t be noticed by Griffith, since it was dark.

“Don’t lie to me.” Griffith said, his face strictly maintaining eye contact with you. “Your body tells me otherwise.” He grabbed you by the thighs which closed voluntarily, spreading your legs wider to gain access to your entrance once more. Before even entering you, Griffith teases your clit by rubbing the tip of his cock over it, earning a moan from you in return.

Then comes the hard part. Griffith inserts the head into your entrance, stretching it in a way where it feels like burning to you. He ignores your pleas, focusing on getting his cock to be buried into you in no time.

“Too tight, God be damned.” Griffith groaned. “Shhh, I got you. Shhhhh. You don’t have to worry anymore. I know what I’m doing.”

Griffith thrusted forward, ensuring that his length buried itself deep into your cunt. This earned a yelp from you, as you were not expecting his sudden intrusion into your guts.

“Griffith…..Why….are you doing this? I-”

“It’s because I’m the only one who can make you feel like the most special woman who has ever walked Midland’s ground. Apart from the hordes of men that want you, it is only I who promised to build my own kingdom for us to rule over the weak. You shall be my Queen, my Countess—and by achieving this dream, I would be able to fulfill my utmost duties as a citizen of Midland…..to weed out the poor and unfortunate from the ends of this world.”

“Huh? If that’s it, then I don’t want to-”

“Shut it.” Griffith scoffed. “You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, my love. From our childhood to where we currently are, I’ve always wanted to make you a part of my dream. And no one, not even your family, can stop us from doing anything to achieve it.”

Griffith began to slowly rock his hips in and out of you, the sensation of pain merging with a feeling far more pleasurable. Sounds of fast clapping filled the room, making it smell of sex all over. While doing the do, Griffith placed both his hands on your breasts, fondling and playing around with them as they bounced according to his rough motions.

Griffith set a faster pace this time, his thrusts growing more animalistic and primal. Fucking you felt good to him despite the tightness that clenched around his cock.

“Such a sweet, sweet girl dolled up just for me.” Griffith praised, his heavy breathing intensifying the scene. “I wonder how many men managed to take you in one night and if they’d ever compare to my abilities at present.”

“Ah! It….doesn’t…matter….!!!” you screamed. “Nnnnggghhh…..Griffith!!”

“….Well? What is it, my dear? Cat got your tongue?” Griffith laughed as he bucked his hips mercilessly onto your tight pussy. “Mmmmmm….I can’t wait to have this body all to myself, for the sake of….my dream…..!!!!”

“Griffith…..I can’t…..I can’t handle…..!!!”

“After all, you’re in my control now. So it’s best to surrender before I try anything else.” Griffith whispered as he leaned closer to your ear.

Griffith ruthlessly pressed his body against yours and forcefully kissed you once again, his hips pounding into you like a rabid dog. You couldn’t see him directly in the dark nor speak, since he took advantage of your open mouth to slide his tongue in and lap at every fluid your mouth had to offer. You could feel him getting close, and as much as you would like to protest your way out of this mess, Griffith sucked your tongue in the most disgustingly experienced way possible.

Not inside….

You thought. “Mmmmmhhhhh, mmmmhhh!!!!”

Griffith deepened the kiss and didn’t look back. He didn’t care as to whether he kissed terribly at this point, for all he wanted was to take full ownership of you. His hips rocked faster and faster, his moment of release coming much closer.

Pulling away, Griffith made a conscious effort to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, whispering inaudible sweet nothings into it like a lover in despair.

“Mmmmmm……All the….more to love…..No one will ever come close to making you feel the same way……”

“Griffith….Not inside……I’m going to—ah!”

“Then do it, love. Grind your way against me. Claw at me like your life depends on it. Show me how much you appreciate my efforts.”

After nutting in you raw, you moaned aloud while Griffith grabbed your hips forward to make sure every last drop of cum unloaded into you. His pacing slowed down as well as the sounds of cheeks slapping against skin.

“You did well, my love. Now open your legs wide and show me who this pussy belongs to.”

You, of course, rode out your orgasm and came down from your high. After the feeling subsided, you closed your legs intentionally out of shame.

“I said….open wide.” Griffith frowned as he used all his might to spread your legs once more.

Despite the sex being over, things didn’t stop there. Griffith shoved three fingers up your pussy, twisting and turning them in order to elicit a moan from you despite achieving a full-on afterglow.

After a while, Griffith pulled away once more after testing the waters.

“You did well, my love.”

Those were the last words you heard before your orgasms led you to fall asleep soundly and peacefully.

[unicreamuwu]

Sweet, Deadly Family (Yandere Charlotte Family x Child Daughter Reader) - Chapter 1

Warning: No warnings for now, but the only warning is that Big Mama would literally kill everyone, including her children, if reader isn't found in one day

"Where is she?! Where is she?!"

A booming voice called across the room. Servants and the Charlotte siblings quickly came inside the large pink bedroom.

"My baby! My beautiful baby girl! Where the hell is she?!"

"Mama! What happened?!" Oven asks in a panic tone.

Linlin turns to her son with an angry expression.

"Where's Y/N?! My beloved baby! Oh, my sweet, lovely baby Y/N!" she yells out in an angry, worried tone.

"Mama please, calm down! We can find her and bring her back, we promise!" Smoothie called out, trying to calm her down.

She turned around and glared at her children.

"If you don't find her the next day, I'll kill everyone in this island. Do you understand me?" she told them in a dark tone.

They all nodded and quickly left the bedroom to find their troublesome little sister.

~~~~~

The straw hats arrived at the Whole Cake Island and were looking around the filled sweets island.

Nami was scolding her teammates to stop getting distracted by almost everything they lay their eyes on.

However, when crossing a bridge, something was shaking beneath them. And underneath was an enormous crocodile coming out of the water. Luckily, the straw hats dodged the attack on time.

"Who are you, people?!"

A voice calls out to them.

The strawhats looked up to see a young girl whose hairstyle is tied into a ponytail. She was wearing a white dress with pink details on it and a big red heart on the center of the dress. Along with a pair of pink boots.

The girl was also wearing a pink helmet to cover her head.

The strawhats began to observe the little girl, following every detail on her. She doesn't look over than sixteen.

Before they could say anything else, a sound of bells could be heard from the distance that caught the young girl's attention.

"Crap. It's the search alert again."

She then turns to the strawhats with a stern look on her face.

"You guys are lucky that I didn't capture you guys yet."

The girl said before she ran off.

"Hey! Hold up!"

Luffy calls out to her, but she was already long gone.

~~~~~

The girl returns back to the palace of the island and sneaks through a window.

She drenched her dress a bit because it was raining once she entered the palace grounds.

Once she sneaks back in, she quietly walks through the halls before she goes inside a room where laughter could be heard.

Then, a bunch of children voices could be heard once the girl enters the room.

"Oh, it's big sister Y/N!"

[fleet-admiral-hiba]

Howdy again! I'm here with a request please and thank you! What are the reactions of Charlotte family at their darling becoming a devil fruit user. They'd been kidnapped for a full year and while they were on the island, they found a tree with a devil fruit(Not knowing what it is) they eat it. Now, I don't know if you have a devil fruit idea, but I was thinking of a Horror-Horror-No-mi. A fruit made by me that gives the user the powers of Alucard(Hellsing) and Alastor(Hazbin Hotel.) Love you!

Love the idea of the Devil fruit.

BIRDS OF PREY

Oh boy, that was indeed a surprise. Especially when you came back complaining about a fruit that had a bad taste. Immediately, alarm bells start ringing. Only DF taste bad and you must have eaten one.

Now it's just a question of knowing which one. It came totally as a surprise. You didn't mean to do that( maybe you did cause Flampe had been giving you a tough time).

She startled you, when you were carrying a home made cake, that was now ruined. Crying while she mocked you, your eyes turned cold, shadows starting to stretch. She didn't know what was happening, but seeing numerous eyes looking at her with malice, and you standing there, cold gaze piercing her, she was scared.

So much so, that she started to beg for forgiveness. It was Galette that snapped you out of this state, and looking at your tear stained face and at Flampe, she could guess what happened.

But what her sister told her made her surprised. A sweety like you, having a power so resourceful like this.

Still,you were pampered that night,as an apology for the ruined cake. Flampe learned not to cross you, especially now that you were under the elders wing.

Don't you worry darling, you will master the power soon enough

[gulnarsultan]

Anonymous asked:

Hello, can you make Yandere Daphne Bridgerton x Princess Reader, Yandere King George III and Queen Charlotte's favorite daughter?

They were both betrothed to each other by Yandere Queen Charlotte to keep the reader with her since she didn't want to marry the reader off to another royal family, but this all happened right after she named Daphne the diamond of the season.

Hello. I hope you like it dear.💋

"Scenario"

The King and Queen's precious Princess. Everyone was calling you that. You were your parents' first child and first daughter. This made you very valuable to them. They had always been protective and possessive of you since you were a baby. They never hesitated to pamper you to the fullest. The years were passing quickly and you had turned into a beautiful young lady. Your parents had come to terms with the fact that one day you would get married and move away from them. This made them very sad and scared. So that caused them to start thinking of a plan for you to stay with them. The Queen managed to find a solution. They knew that at first everyone would oppose this decision. But it didn't scare your parents, who were ready to fight anyone to keep their precious daughter with them. Before the ball, the King and Queen spoke to the Bridgerton family. They were surprised at first. However, they were smart enough not to reject the Royal family. This news was a miracle for Daphne. Because she has always dreamed of being with you. Now she was achieving her dream without any difficulty. On the day of the ball, the Queen named Daphne the diamond of the season and announced the engagement and marriage between the two of you. At first everyone's reaction was shock. However, those who wanted to oppose were silenced by the King and Queen. So now you're stuck between your yandere parents and yandere Daphne. In a way, it's not such a bad combination.

[fanaticsnail]

One Piece Giants Masterlist

Navigation Masterlist Here

Official one piece art, page and screengrabs

Charlotte Katakuri:

Beautiful (One-Shot)

Big Mom has found her son, Charlotte Katakuri, a partner she deemed worthy enough for him to court for matrimony. While he is smitten immediately with you, he is determined to make a good impression on you by not revealing his face. Your curiosity gets the better of you.

Dreaming of You (NSFW One-Shot) NSFW

He couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in his dream. The way you writhed on his lap, cried his name and allowed him to please you had him wake to sticky blankets when he jolted upright. His thoughts got the better of him, and he was wracked with a new mission to seek out whether it was a possibility to see it become a reality.

Elegia (Part 2 to Dreaming of You) SFW

After the events of Elegia with Tot Musica and Uta, you awaken to the looming figure of Katakuri standing above you. You apologise for the events that transpired, asking forgiveness for putting his siblings in danger, and only have respect meet you in your wake.

Size (Mini-fic)

You have a devil fruit that has the ability to change your own size. Big Mom wants you to carry the offspring for her large children, and will stop at nothing until you're tracked down. Katakuri finds you, and instead of taking you in, he helps you escape.

I Don't Want To Hurt You (NSFW One-Shot)

You have been married to Charlotte Katakuri for five years, and not once has he engaged with you intimately. You had not even seen his face without the shroud of fur atop it. In desperation for grandchildren from the minister of flour, his mother drugs him with a powerful aphrodesiac. The only cure is to give in to his desires and finally claim you as his spouse. Pollen trope.

Safety (Yandere One-Shot)

As housekeeper to Charlotte Linlin, Katakuri saw you as part of his family. He is obsessed with ensuring you are safe, being a human so much smaller than he was and around such a large family. He is doing all of this, just to ensure your safety. Sometimes that means following you home and watching you from outside your bed chambers.

King the Wildfire

Dreaming of you (NSFW One-Shot)

He couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in his dreams. The way he had you wrapped around his body as a marionette in his minds, dancing for them as he awoke to sticky blankets when he jolted upright. His thoughts got the better of them, and he wanted to make them a reality.

Banished Prince Loki

Dreaming of You (NSFW One-Shot)

There was something not right about this scenario. Fear gripped you as you lay helpless and quivering beneath a figure you had never met. Fear gripped you, and the cusps of reality slipped further from you the deeper you gave in to his motions.

Entertain Me (NSFW One-Shot)

He was bored. He was tired. He was... Lonely. What is a giant to do, but make a nuisance of himself before entertainment was given to him by the hands of the wardens who placed him in his chains. And what pretty entertainment you make for him.

[mayasaurusss]

I want me some yandere adult lottie, with an innocent reader. Do whatever the fu<k you want with it bae

Old ghosts. Contents: mentions of abusive relationships, mentions of violence, horror moments, Yellowjackets coded, light romance, two OCC's, reader is gender neutral but wears a dress at one point, Lottie is as delusional as ever, open ending 350k wors/ about six pages. Author's note: So uhm, I don't think I've met any requirments you had, anon. I tried to do yandere Lottie in this but it really doesn't come across as it and I'm not familiar with the genre, so everything I did prior to this sucked. So I did something more akin to a murder mistery? But since I still wanted to make this yandere coded, I left the story as raw and ugly as I could. In my personal opinion this is very Yellowjackets coded. It isn't a very romantic oneshot nor smutty one, but I hope you will still like it!

It would be an understatement to say you had messed up. You could not even predict where this relationship would lead you.

You had met Lottie months ago, or well, you had come into contact with what you now knew was her 'cult'.

The marketplace had been very busy at that hour of the morning, vendors shouting and people chatting. However, you felt as lonely as ever. After many years, you have been dumped by your boyfriend. Or, he had cheated on you and blamed you for it. It was for the better, really. You were clingy and he had taken his anger out on you on multiple occasions, so at least now you weren't going to be his next punching bag. You had been miserable: not that you really loved him, after all, after the umpteenth hit -love or not-, an animal stops loving its master. But you had never managed to learn to live alone, yet alone care for yourself.

Other than that, you were battling with the understanding that you loved women more than men during your entire life. That realization had come during your relationship with Simon, and he had understood quickly. One night, you were invited to his friend's house. His girlfriend was so beautiful you were jaw slacked and shy with her for the whole night. Simon's friend hadn't noticed, but Simon did. The morning after, you had walked in your office with bruises under your suit, a black eye and a heavy heart. He was so bitter and awful that he had slept with many women the weeks after, and among them -as far as you knew- there was the woman from that night. At least you had dodged two bullets.

So, the woman who sold honey knew perfectly what to do with you. It wasn't her fault, really. People like her see someone that went through the same, and just want to help. She introduced herself as Olivia, a woman the same age as you, and when she saw your healing bruises, she had told you about where she lived. A compound, lost in nature and away from civilization. There, according to her, people lived in harmony with nature and with each other. They learnt to face their inner demons and past trauma under the care of Charlotte Matthews. Their caretaker. Olivia talked about Charlotte like a believer might have talked about their God, with such adoration that it left you breathless. And, a bit skeptical.

You had accepted Olivia's invite. One of Simon's many gifts, other than bruises and breaking your trust, was throwing you out of the house. Besides your friend's generous hospitality, you were basically homeless, and jobless after your boss had fired you just days prior to your break up. So, living at the compound didn't seem like a bad idea. Olivia had assured you that Lottie -that's what she called her- had a special program for whoever wasn't in the right economical situation to live at the compound, but still needed care.

You had started to travel that same afternoon, having packed the last of your belongings and bid farewell to your friend and family. To go to the compound, you had traveled on old streets that unraveled through barren outskirts and lush forests. There was no one else in sight. That made you even more scared than before. How could you just accept a stranger's invite to an isolated place in the mountains? You had truly lost your mind.

But Olivia was so nice with you, so friendly and lovely. She had no problems in telling you what made her arrive at the compound in the first place. Two years ago, when she was 19, her father and mother had fought and in a fit of rage, he had pushed her down the stairs, almost breaking her skull. Ever since then, she had been taken care of by her son, who did not have time to help nor give a fuck about Olivia. So, for a year, she had been alone. That was until Lottie had found her. With the exact same tactic you had been recruited -kidnapped?- she had come to live at the compound and with it, came to peace with her trauma.

Your story wasn't as grim as Olivia's, but you still needed to be taken care of. "That is what Lottie will do" she said, brown eyes on you and a smile that could kill on her lips.

The compound was on the foot of a mountain, surrounded by vegetation and overlooking a lake. When you set foot on the ground, the first thing you heard was a strange melody, a chant in the distance. Olivia had been quick to show you away from it, inside the main building where your belongings such as your phone and wallet had been taken from you. "Well, that's because our phones chain us from nature and healing" she had answered you, after you had asked her why they needed to take your phone at all. Great, so, you are in the middle of nowhere, without your phone close to you, surrounded by strangers and without a clear path back to civilization.

Great, just great. What has gotten into you?

"Wait here, I'll go get Lottie" Olivia said, seating you on a wicker chair in the waiting hall. You had noticed that everyone here wore the same purple outfits. Oh, this is definitely a cult. "Here she is!" you heard behind you, along with the steps of two pairs of feet. Fearing that you might have looked like an insensitive asshole, you stood up, waiting for Lottie to circle to your front.

You had expected her to look like a hippie: an old woman with short white hair, sunglasses indoors, long hoop earrings and who smelled like weed. Instead, you found yourself in front of the most beautiful woman ever. Lottie was tall, quite literally towering over you, her hair was long and black, the same color as her eyes, skin dark coloured. She looked really good for her age, every wrinkle she had was perfect on her skin.

Her velvety, deep and calm voice had greeted you, "Hi, I am Charlotte Matthews. You can call me Lottie. And who might you be?" you answered back with a trembling voice. She smiled at you with such care and love you thought you could combust on the spot. "I will show you around here" she told you, as her hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you through the place.

The first months at the compound had been... calm. You shouldn't have expected anything more than that, but it felt like a breath of fresh air. You always wore purple -heliotrope- dresses or clothes, woke up at six am and went to sleep at ten pm. Everyday the cycle continued, so much so that you didn't at first notice the... signs, as you were completely immersed in your routine.

Whenever you started to hear chants in the distance, Olivia, who was ever present in your life, would lead you away from them. If you questioned her, she would just say "It's just a special therapy. You will see one day".

Lottie was always with you. Always. At first you didn't pay too much mind to it, thinking that since you were probably a mildly troubled individual, she would feel the need to have her eyes on you more than the others. But Olivia had had it worse, far worse than you, but she wasn't as followed as you were from Lottie. And you were certain others have had it worse than Olivia.

Lottie was always following you: whether that was during the many therapy sessions, the lunch or even your personal alone time in your personal cabin -which she had so graciously given you just three weeks after you became a member- where she would knock at the last hours of the day to have small talk with you. It had become such a nag for you that at one point, you even said it to her, clearly and plainly, "Lottie, look. I understand that I might be... weak, in any way. But I'm fine, I don't always need you".

You wished you hadn't said that, because her eyes had stopped reflecting all light, a dark look in them. "Ah, I see. Very well, I will leave you alone" she went away and didn't talk with you for a few days. All the time though, you felt eyes watching your back.

Everything comes boiling back to right now.

When Lottie had talked with you again it was in the late afternoon. She has just finished one of her communal meetings in the clearing overlooking the lake. She had walked over to you, took your hand and led you where no one could hear. "I want you to meet me this evening, to do something that will build our common trust in each other" she had gestured to a man you hadn't noticed before, prompting him to give you a white flowy dress. "Tonight, after dinner, come to me, here. I want you to wear this" she talked to you, taking your shoulders in her hands.

When the sky became purple, you had gone out, waiting for Lottie. The clearing seats had been moved, now just the yellow signs of the compound's symbol left. Lottie had moved from behind, greeting you with her velvety voice "Hello dear. Are you ready for our therapy?" she said, and her hand came up your face, stroking your cheek. "Uhm... Lottie... What are you doing?". Your cheeks felt hot with blood, voice weavering. You had battled with your small crush for Lottie for a while now, and even if you did find her attachment to you a bit too much, you still liked her. So much.

Lottie just smiled, her other hand rested on your hip before she let you go, walking over the lake's shore. You followed behind her like a dog, small and frail in comparison with the towering grace she was. "Come down here, come" her hands extended to you, helping you down the wood platform to the shore's sands. She gestured towards the dark waters, prompting you to follow her. When you did, she wordlessly placed your body into the lake, the water splashing at your hips. "It's... cold" her smile was enough to fend off the shivering of your body, but what she said next made you rethink her sanity.

"I want you to lower yourself in the water. We will calm your heart as well as our trust in one another" she said, attempting to push you in the water. "No! No, no, no. What if something happens?!" your voice straining over, before she replied calmly "Nothing will happen, because I am here".

And how could you say no to Lottie? So, you started to fall back in the darkness, the cold waters nipping at your skin making your breath shallow. All the while, she held your head and hand, gently guiding you.

There you were, at her mercy. You trusted her with your life and she had to be responsible for it. In her eyes, this was the most pure form of adoration. She adored you and you adored her.

The baptism was over.

When you resurfaced, she had quickly guided you back to land and had dried you with a towel promptly left on the sand. With her hands on your cheeks, then, Lottie had kissed you. So deeply and lovingly it made your heart ache. Her tongue found yours, overpowering you, cutting your breath away.

You were so distracted that you didn't hear the sound of movement behind Lottie. When her lips fell away from yours and you could look away, a shiver went down your spine.

Masks. A group of masked people stood before you. Some depicting bears, some birds, some wolves, some humans. All lined up, looking directly at you. "L-Lottie... what is this?" you didn't know why your first thought was that Lottie must've been behind it, but something screamed at you that this was indeed the case. "My love" she said, "you need to trust me. To let me cherish you. It's what It wants".

You backed away from her, your blood freezing in your veins. Someone, a man, stopped you in your tracks. He trapped your arms into his, uncaring of your trashing. "Let yourself be one with the Wilderness" Lottie said, no light behind her eyes. As if something possessed her. She pulls a knife from behind her, and for a split moment you think that Lottie will kill you, but the blade slashes across her fingertip. She draws a symbol on your forehead with her blood, trickles of it streaming down on your eyes.

"We hear the Wilderness and the Wilderness hears us" the chants rise in the air, filling the empty dark sky. Lottie's voice is louder than everyone else, and finally the voices die down, as hers is the last one still chanting. When she is done, her body turns to yours, and she utters a single word.

"Run".

You don't need to be told twice. You sprint in the forest, leaving wet trails behind you. The masked people follow you, searching, predicting where you will go, if you will hide. Lottie is the last one to join the hunt, her white dress engulfed by the forest's darkness.

It seems like the forest itself has a mind, trying to prevent you from running further away. Branches claw as your skin and dress, thorns planting in your flesh, wind blowing so you can't understand if the sounds you hear are the wind or howls.

You run, you run and run, until every bone of your body, every organ and every drop of blood screams at you to stop. And just as you were about to fall down in exhaustion, you see something in the dark. A house, one that looks like it had been left to time's mercy.

The walls are dirty and rotten, the white plaster almost unrecognizable under years of dirt. Your sixth sense tells you to get away, to search for another place, but there isn't anything else that could shelter you.

The air inside smells of old, wilted matter. It makes your stomach close and you try not to vomit, pinching your nose while you explore the rest of the house, searching for a hiding place until morning. Your plan was to hide and travel down to the nearest town, then, telling the authorities that up in the mountains, a cult was trying to sacrifice people to a made up entity. You wanted to hope that by doing so, you would help others to not follow your steps.

From the hall, you turned left towards the kitchen. It was empty, except for a table with scattered documents on it. Photos of an old soccer team, articles about the disappearance of a plane in the wilds of Canada, a symbol... The same one of the compounds. Bit by bit, you started to understand. In between the documents, some by psychologists and others by articles, you found a small diary. It was a brown leather diary, expensive from the looks of it. The pages were yellow and some started to rot away, but you could still make up the words written on them. The words were written with a tremulous hand: it seemed like whoever was the author, they must have written quickly, in fear of being found out.

'12th January, 1998. I hate it here. It's cold in the winter, and it makes me remember that place. I try to help the other patients, but the nurses forbid me from doing it. They told me to stop talking to It, and told me it isn't real. I know they are lying. It must be real, or all we did was for nothing. All the hurt was for nothing. It can't be. I know it's real. It hears me, I hear it'.

Something about this made you shiver. Could It be whatever Lottie was chanting to earlier? 1998... the plane crash happened in 1996; it couldn't be a coincidence. You take the diary and a couple of documents in your hand, before continuing to explore. Nothing seems out of the ordinary: the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom; everything is neatly placed. You spot a dark flight of stairs at the very back of the house. It doesn't look inviting at all, and you're almost ready to leave, when you hear something outside. Sounds of steps circling the house. The hair of your back rises up and every fear you had of the stairs is thrown out of the window.

As quietly as possible, you reach the second floor, listening for the sounds. The floor is far darker than the first one: so much so that you can't see anything. You wait a minute for your eyes to get used to the dark and then continue walking down the hall, towards what you assume is a bedroom. Just before you reach it, you hit a metal tube: it's a ladder, red and rusted and it leads you to the attic. You are about to get past it when you hear the front door of the house open: someone is inside.

Quickly you head up the ladder and in the dark attic. It's not all dark you realize, some lights shine in the middle of the room, circling...

An idol. An old idol made of old bones and burnt hay. The idol was planted in the wooden floor, its arms branches extending outwards, bent up as if it was deep in ecstasy. Its torso was made out with a large ribcage, so you suspected it to be of non-human origin; inside the organs were replaced with hay and fresh grass. Lifeless eyes stared back at you, antlers protruding from the back of the skull.

You feel someone's arms circle your stomach, placing their nose in the crook of your neck. "I knew you'd come here" her voice said, "It told me". Lottie holds you tight against herself, mumbling incoherently on your skin. "L-let go of me you witch!" you try to shove her away, propting Lottie to just let go of you: as such, you fall in the candle circle, spilled wax burning at your skin.

Lottie watches you with adoration and hunger. Upon your fall into the circle, her eyes lit up. She raises her arms up in the air -much like the idol itself- and towards you, in some sort of divine bliss. "Yes! Yes! It- It choose you!" she says out loud, "I'm so glad it was you!".

You trembled in both fear and anger, "How did- How did you know I was here?" you say, looking up at Lottie, shrouded by the darkness of the room. "It told me, of course" she says with an uncanny smile.

You're shocked by this new side of Lottie, and for a moment you forget what she had done to you. "You are crazy Lottie! You tried to kill me!" her eyes widen at your accusations, "Kill you? No, no, I didn't try to kill you... I just wanted to...". Your anger makes you uncaring of Lottie's emotions, so you lash out at her "Just wanted to what, Lottie?! Sacrifice me to your creepy god-thing?!".

It's like she's torn between the illusion of her god and the reality that she had scared you. "I thought- I thought you were going to kill me! I thought what we had for all these months was for nothing!", what she does next makes your skin crawl. She watches between you and the idol behind, her eyes filled with tears. "No I wan- I needed to know that It accepts you" she said, coming closer to your body.

Suddenly Lottie grabs your wrists with force, like she sees you but her ears are filled with whispers from old ghosts and gods. "And now, I know it does!" she almost looks delirious. Lottie shakes your wrists in her hands and cries; the black abyss of her eyes staring back at yours.

"Can't you understand? This is It's love, my love" you try to move from her grasp, but even in her old age, Lottie still proves to be as strong as she once was. "Y-You were hunted, weak, and you lived! You lived! And now It recognizes you as part of Itself" a connection is made in your brain.

Shivers run down your body, at the realization that either you aren't alone in this old attic, or you are alone with a roman and her ghosts. Either is terrifying. "What... what is It, Lottie?" but it's far too late to run from Lottie or the ghosts in her head. You are sure that either will haunt you anyway, if you manage to escape that is. She pauses, contemplating your words. "It..." she tries to put a name, a significance to whatever this It is, but she decides against it, instead opting to close her arms on you, one caging your body on hers and the other cradling the back of your head.

Her voice is lifeless while it whispers in your ear "It doesn't matter. You are one of us now". That last phrase confuses you, "I have... I have been here for months now. I was always one of you, no?" she shakes her head, cranes her neck to look down on you.

"No, one of us".

[fancyfeathers]

And Then There Were None

(Yandere William James Moriarty x Author!Reader)

Based on this post

TW//serial killing, panic attacks, slight gore if you squint, smoking, usage of drugs(smoking), kidnapping, implied isolation, heavy guilt, heavy depression

And Then There Were None (Yandere William James Moriarty /w Author Darling Masterlist)

Six months, you spent six months, a half a year, in America, New York City specifically, writing and getting inspiration for your next novel. You did not go alone of course, you made the trip with a friend of yours, Alex Pendel, an American novelist who grew up in Manhattan. You stayed with their family during your trip and you certainly learned a thing or two from the very family who runs New York in the palm of their hand, but that all is besides the point now, because now you are home.

Alex took your hand, helping you as you could pick up the skirt of your dress, as you stepped off the walkway that led from the ship to the dock. You noticed as you disembarked the strange looks Alex got from the people all around, you suppose that the suit she wore would certainly draw eyes, you had gotten so used to her family back in America and they were used to her more masculine sense in fashion, her mother even telling you with a fond tone how much Alex looked like her father. But here in London where no one truly feared her or her family that look was bound to draw stares. You also clocked that your luggage was nowhere to be seen as you disembarked which would make anyone else raise an eyebrow but to the two of you, this was just how any other trip would come to its end.

“You wanna bet how many of them came?” Alex asked as you began making your way down the dock, your heeled boots and her slacks making a sharp and dull clicking sound from each of you both as you walked together, arms interlocked. “I bet Réne and Charlotte will be there, I think Evelyn had that family reunion this week.”

“No that was last week, Charlotte I think is up in York, it is her younger brother’s birthday today.” You remarked after Alex’s comment which drew a hum from her as she released your arm to grab a cigarette from her suit jacket pocket.

Réne Drew, Charlotte Basset, and Evelyn Jay, along with Alex Pendel, they all were your best friends. You were all members of a small writer’s club you formed, there were a few other members as well but you all were the founders, you all made the payments for the building in Mayfair, hired the staff, and sent out the invitations to any promising authors, journalists, and poets who may be willing to join your club and they began to pour in. Evelyn and Réne were the ones who were at the club the most out of all of you.

Réne lived a few blocks away in a flat he began renting after moving to London from Marseille, a port city in France. Hisfamily was old money French family who based their fortune in the wine and alcohol industry, but his elder brother was set to inherit everything, so off to England he went, attending Oxford before settling in London and beginning his writing career and becoming a bestselling author know for his works that silently shatter the illusion of humanity in a poignant way by holding a mirror up to us and saying: look at what we truly are, and look at what we pretend to be.

Evelyn was a young heiress from an old money family as well, but one from here in London, titleless, and she was the youngest member of the club as far as age goes, only eighteen when you all founded the club. She is a seemingly innocent and sweet young lady but the human mind can be a very dark place. She often asks, when you all are at the club, questions that truly terrify you, for example…

“Would hunting another person still be considered hunting an animal because humans are a form of animals?”

“If you were being burnt alive would the smoke or flames kill you first?”

“I think there is a murderer in my neighborhood, I keep on seeing traces of blood by the park… Do you think they are burying their victims there?”

She always had the sweetest smile and is honestly quite kind, if not a bit creepy.

Then lastly there was Lady Charlotte Basset, the eldest child and heiress of a noble family, she has more money than she knows what to do with. She moved to London to find direction with her life but instead found strange happiness in her family’s estate there, so she wrote about it and it sold in the blink of an eye. When not at her desk or at the writer’s club, she is often seen taking you all out on the town to spoil you bunch or out with one of her brothers, gambling and drinking. She often takes Evelyn to visit haunted sites all around London so she can get inspiration for her books and scare off suitors with the gossip of the seances she holds in her own estate, which may or may not be true.

“(Name)! Alex!” A high pitched voice called out to you two as you neared the end of the large pier. You looked to where the pier met the land and spotted a young lady with light brown hair and a long yellow dress that lacked any corset and was quite old, no doubt a gift from her grandmother from when she was a girl in the regency era. But that young lady was indeed familiar to the two of you, Evelyn Jay.

She ran over to the two of you, wrapping her arms around Alex first, which was returned with a hesitant hug and sheepish smile from the New Yorker, similar to how an older sister would greet their younger sibling when their friends were watching. Evelyn quickly broke away to greet you, hugging you slightly less tighter than how she hugged Alex. “Oh I missed you two so much! So much has happened! Réne went to Moscow to meet with a publisher and translated there to see if his next novel could be published in Russia first since it takes place there- oh and Charlotte got to meet the queen on her father’s birthday in the spring, and she said Charlotte looked absolutely radiant and-“

“Evelyn!” Alex cut her off with a wide smile across her face as she set a hand on the young lady’s shoulder in an attempt to pry her off of you. “We just got back, give us time to breathe, you can tell us all about what happened later.”

“I know it is just so good to see the both of you.” She spoke in a rush as she slipped her upper limbs away from your torso and then she took a breath and sigh, finally calming down as she looked over the both of you, her gloved hands folding in front of her. “It is… it is just so good to see you, both of you.”

There was something lingering in her voice, something that did not feel quite right but you just summed it up to perhaps your absence over the half a year.

Evelyn led you both to the carriage that she arrived in, and indeed your luggage was being packed up on the back and top of it. While the carriage driver was working on packing up your belongings, you spotted a man in a blue and brown plaid vest with a matching blue tie, his brown hair and eyes matched the brown on his vest while the gold glasses he wore that matched the gold buttons on his shirt and vest. He had a cigarette between his lips and fingers much like Alex did, and this was another familiar face, Réne Drew. He spotted the three of you and waves with one hand while the other pulled the cigarette from his lips.

“I saw Evelyn run off to look for the two of you, I would have gone with her but I just do not have the same energy she has, not with the nights of sleep I have been getting at least.” The French author spoke as a greeting as the two of you approached within ten feet of the carriage. He opened his free hand and arm to you, embracing you in a small hug for a moment, but not Alex since he knows she is not the affectionate type, with the exception of Evelyn that is. “It is so wonderful to see the both of you, truly it is.”

Something was off in his tone as well, now that was strange, Evelyn was one thing, but both Evelyn and Réne, that was how you knew something was wrong.

You glanced over at Alex and you saw a glance that was exchanged with you, silently signaling that she picked up on what you noticed as well.

“Réne, are you alright?” You questioned your friend as he broke away from the hug and he did not make eye contact with you for a long moment, only bugging his cigarette up to his lips to take a long draw from it. “Réne-“

“Sir… and ladies.” You heard the carriage driver call out to you all, hesitating for a moment as he was about to say ma’am but seeing as there were now three women he was addressing he changed his choice of word. “Everything is packed up.”

“Lovely.” Réne responded as he turned to face the carriage driver for a brief moment before looking back at you and Alex. “Let’s… we can discuss this in the carriage.”

Réne helped Evelyn into the carriage first, then attempted to help Alex who simply slapped his hand away and stepped in herself saying. “Réne, do you need help getting in a carriage? The answer is no and neither do I.”

Then Réne reached out to help you in the carriage-

Suddenly you were knocked over as a gentleman walked past you, the heel of your shoe getting caught in between the bricks that formed the pavement below you. You hit the ground, no doubt dirtying your dress that Alex’s mother got for you in America.

“Oh dear, are you alright Miss?” You hear the voice of the man who knocked you over as he reached out a hand to help you up, his voice smooth and calm if not a little worried in your distress. You looked up at him, he was a young man with blond hair and scarlet red eyes, he was dressed in fine clothes, a brown suit and red tie to be specific.

“Yes, I am, just a little fall is nothing to worry about.” You responded as you took his gloved hand with your own as he helped you up, pulling you to your feet. Behind him you saw another gentleman who looked quite similar only the other wore glasses and had a scar that hid itself behind his hair. You looked back to him and smiled, giving him a little nod in gratitude and you extended your hand to him, more socializing was a habit you picked up in America. “Thank you for helping me up.”

“It was the least I could do since I was the one who knocked you over.” He took your hand in his own, giving it a firm shake and squeeze. “I am Professor James Moriarty, it is a pleasure to meet a lady as polite as you, Miss...”

“Oh (Name).” You watched as his smile turned into an expression of slight shock. “Is something wrong, Professor Moriarty?”

“Not at all, I am just a fan of your work that is all.” He responded, shaking his expression away with a slightly embarrassed chuckle and smile.

“Well that is certainly a nice thing to hear after my trip home, I am glad you enjoy my work, Professor.” After your comment you heard Réne clear his throat, reminding you that everyone was waiting on you. You glanced back at your friend before looking back at the professor and giving him one last smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Professor Moriarty.”

“You as well.” He responded as you gave him a small wave goodbye as you turned back Réne who had his arm outstretched to help you into the carriage.

You stepped up into the carriage, swinging yourself over into the corner next to Evelyn that faced away from where the carriage was headed. Alex and Réne sat across from you, Réne nearest to you and Alex nearest to Evelyn. You felt the carriage begin to move, most likely off to your home first since you lived closest to the docks, though close would be an understatement, but that was besides the point. As you finally pulled away from the docks as a whole, Alex was the first to speak up.

“So what has you two all fussed? I thought you bunch were supposed to be happy we are home.” Her comment and tone would have normally drew smiles from you bunch but instead worried glances were exchanged between Réne and Evelyn, the silence was louder than anything else in this moment.

“Guys, what is wrong? You are starting to scare me.” You questioned, your own tone turning serious and grim as you looked between Evelyn and Réne who were tucked into their own separate corners of the carriage.

“While you both were gone something happened, at first no one thought much of it, that is until something like it happened again a few months later, about a week ago.” He began to explain, his hands nervously fidgeting with the pocket watch chain that was connected to his vest. “We thought about writing to you both when the first one happened but chalked it up to a coincidence but then the second one happened and you were already aboard the ship by then and thought it best to wait until you were back here to tell you-“

“Tell us what, Réne?” You questioned, drawing a brief silence from the French author again and his words were picked up by Evelyn.

“Well you know your novels, the one with a blinding snowstorm and a homicidal maniac and then the other one where the little girl poisoned her grandfather with eserine?” Evelyn asked you which you responded with a scoff.

“Of course I do, I wrote them.” You watched as Réne reached into his satchel he brought with him and pulled out two newspapers, one was slightly worn and older than the other, a few months if you had to guess. Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, and your heart began to pound as he handed them to you.

Then your heart stopped as you saw the headlines.

“Serial Killer in the Blizzard; multiple found dead.”

“Earl of Kent found poisoned with eserine.”

Your lips fell agape as you stared at the papers in your hands, you were so far away from reality in your shock that you did not even notice Alex snatching them out of your hands and begin reading over the paper herself. You must have been in shock for a few minutes because when you came to, Evelyn was rubbing your shoulders and Alex was swearing up a storm and Réne was trying to get her to calm down.

“The deaths were all nobility, but they mimicked your books.” Evelyn commented as she helped you sit up straight from how you sat slouched in your seat.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Alex snapped back at the young lady across from her.

“Think about it, think about all the major murders over the last few years, who has been killing the nobles of the nation or their aliases at least?” Réne asked and she fell to silence once again, minus the barely audible swears slipping from her lips, leaving you to piece together everything in your already distressed and confused mind.

“…the… the Lord of Crime.” Your words were breathy and uneven as you spoke your response but Réne nodded, his expression as grim as it has been since you stepped into the carriage.

“We… No one knows his motive behind choosing your books, but Scotland Yard has ruled you out from being a suspect since you were in America when the initial incidents took place, but they still have no clear suspects yet.” Réne continued on, your shaking form barely piecing together what he was saying. “We thought maybe you coming back to England would bring an end to them… but now thinking about that now it just sounds silly.”

“I… this can’t be true…”

The carriage was drawn to silence after you said those words, confirming that this indeed was reality.

—————————

You stood at the train station a suitcase packed that you carried, you were going to go visit your mother for a few weeks in your hometown, tell her about your time in America and all the parties you went to and things you saw in one of the most amazing cities in the world, but more importantly to find comfort after you heard about those murders and perhaps receive a bit of guidance on what to do.

“You have your ticket, right?” Little Evelyn asks as she bushed out the wrinkles in your coat as the train pulled up to the station. She had accompanied you to the station to say goodbye, but in reality your friends have not left you by yourself unless you were home since you found out about the murders of the Lord of Crime, it has been Almost three weeks now.

“Yes and I will be fine, Evelyn.” You replied to her worry with a smile which she gave a little huff to as the doors of the train opened up and made your head turn. You gave a glance back to Evelyn and she, like always, threw her arms around you and squeezed you tight, like she was afraid you would disappear into dust if she let go.

“Just be careful alright?” She spoke as she buried her face into your neck, muffling her voice slightly, to which you hummed in acknowledgement in response to her. She finally let go of you, her hands coming to rest on your lower upper arm, near your elbow. Her gaze flicked between you and the ground, as if she was scared to meet your gaze. “I will miss you.”

“I will only be gone a few weeks, it is not like I am going back to America.” You teased her which drew a wide smile across her face.

“I suppose that is true, just… be careful, please?”

“You already asked me that.”

“You already said that, but I will be.” You responded as you switched hands that your suitcase was in so that you could grab your ticket with your dominant hand and so that Evelyn would let go of you fully. “I’ll tell my mother that you said hello.”

“Please do- and oh ask her for the toffee she makes, I have been craving it since the holidays.” She added on, cutting herself off as soon as she remembered your mother’s cooking.

“I will.” There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you again that was broken with the whistle of the train blowing, telling you that you needed to board the train or be left behind. You turned your body but your head faced Evelynas you began to walk away. “Well I will see you in two weeks, Evelyn. We can have tea at the club when I get back.”

“That sounds lovely.”

You stepped up into the train proper as it began to move, almost catching you off guard which made you laugh slightly at your own stupidity. You began looking through the compartment, finding one that was free for your use, or in other words empty. Eventually you found one and got settled, setting your suitcase next to you for a brief moment while you pulled out a book to read, an American novel you bought during your time in the states, before you closed your suitcase and set it on the racks above you.

Time slowly drifted by as you made your way through the book, it was good, but time spent reading for you had just gotten short and shorter for you the sharper your mind got, so now the hours you spent as a child reading your favorite books from the library had turned into half an hour if that. You huffed a sigh as you closed the book and set it on your lap, but you slipped your index finger between the pages to save your spot, after all you are not some psychopath. You gazed out the window as the city of London faded into the countryside of England, it felt so quiet which was both strange and welcome since you really have not had a moment of silence since you were back in your hometown before leaving for America six months ago.

“Excuse me, would you mind if we joined you?” A voice from the hall asked, which silently told you that you must have left the door opened. You turned your head, ready to politely dismiss whoever was asking but-

“Oh Professor Moriarty, correct?” Your words escaped your mouth before you could even think about what you were saying, your sight and mouth working faster than your brain could process. Indeed the man from a few weeks prior at the docks was before you on the train, along with the other blonde man who you did not speak to at the docks and a brown haired man with the greenest eyes accompanying them.

“Miss (Name), I did not even realize it was you, what a pleasant surprise to see you again.” You gave William the same smile he gave you and silently gestured for the three of them to come into the compartment, after all the company could do you some good to take your mind off of things. William sat next to you and the other two gentlemen sat across from you both. William gestured to the both of them, specifically the one with brown hair first and then the blonde. “These are my brothers, Louis and Albert.”

“A pleasure to meet you both, my name is (Name). William and I met briefly at the docks in London when I was just arriving home from a trip to New York City.” You explained, though the explanation was more for Albert rather than Louis since you remember he was there despite him not saying away, but they both smiled in acknowledgement all the same. You glanced at William who was sitting next to you, and while your prior meeting was brief, he was the one you were most familiar with. “May I ask where you all are headed to?”

“I happen to teach mathematics at the university in Durham, but Albert is headed up there for business and Louis is managing our estate there.” He explained which drew a nod from his brothers. “And what about you?”

“Oh I am just visiting my mother and spending some time back in my hometown before heading back off into the world of editors and publishers.”

“You are from Alnwick, correct?” You heard Albert ask which caught you off guard and you nodded with a shocked expression on your face to his question which drew a laugh from him. “I just remembered William talking about one of your books and one of them taking place in the Alnwick Garden since that is your hometown.”

“Oh good, for a second I thought I had a stalker.” You laughed in relief which made everyone in the compartment break a smile at the very least, but then you suppose you do have a sort of stalker in the form of the Lord of Crime and that thought made your smile fade away. “But yes I am from Alnwick, but I moved to London when I started writing since my publisher and editor were located there and it was easier just walking to their office than having to take a whole long trip down there just to have an hour long meeting with them.”

“I suppose that does make sense.” William spoke with his own smile fading into a more relaxed expression. There was silence among you all once more for a minute or two before William chimed in again. “If I may ask another question, you just returned from America, I would think you would want to avoid travel for a time and stay in London to decompress and relax.”

“Well I just do not think I can relax there right now…” You answered, your gaze falling down to the book that sat in your lap with your finger wedged between its pages, your hands and palms especially growing a tad clammy. “…Since you are a fan of my books then I am sure you heard about what has happened with the Lord of Crime incidents involving two of them. My friends told me about it on the carriage ride back home and it has just been itching my mind in a way I do not like, so I decided some country air and family would do me some good.”

“I see….” It felt like William’s tone in voice changed slightly, growing darker, maybe drawing more into his thoughts for a moment, but only a moment. “Then I suppose it is a good thing to get away from all the commotion to recover from that shock.”

“I do hope so.”

You spent much of the train ride in silence, reading over the book you brought along with you, and then rereading it once you finished. Eventually the Moriarty brothers excused themselves to go to the dining car, they invited you but you rejected their offer since you would be having supper with your mother when you arrived in Alnwick and your mother would not you spoiling your appetite since she would certainly have company over to welcome your return, your grandparents who were still alive and your siblings if they were around. Besides, you wanted to look through your manuscripts and notes from America to see what you could use for your next novel since your stay in New York City was to force creation and inspiration and you certainly could not pull those out around William since you were told he was a fan of your work, spoiling something like your next novel would be cruel.

You read through your old writings and the scene of the city came flooding back to you. Honestly you wished you could go back now, forget about what has happened and just enjoy life, but now it feels like your lust for life has just vanished since Réne handed you those newspapers in the carriage when you and Alex returned home. You sighed, setting your papers, journal, and pen back on the seat and got up, a quick stretch and a trip to the washroom would do you some good. You slipped out from your and the Moriarty brother’s now empty compartment and into the hall. The train was fairly quiet this far into the trip you noted as you walked down the hall and looking around, one of the men in the compartments waving to you as you both made eye contact as you walked passed. The washroom was at the end of the cart while your compartment was at the front, you shut the washroom door after you and turned the lock so no one would walk in. You did not really need to use the bathroom, but you just really needed a change in scenery and a moment to freshen up, fixing your hair and running your hands over your dress to get the wrinkles out.

You smiled as you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, remembering a book you wrote a few years prior. It was on a train like this, an American tycoon was found murdered in his compartment, stabbed a dozen times with his door locked from the inside. The victim was actually inspired by one of Alex’s brothers who you met when he came to London to visit her and to attend to work affairs, whatever that may be, you learned not to ask questions when it came to her family and their family business.

You opened the washroom door before you stepped out into the hallway and began to walk back to your compartment. You thought back to your gardens in your hometown, that would be a good place to write if it was a clear day, write a few chapters of your book over the next few weeks before coming back down and handing it off to your editor which would give you some time to relax in London while he works on that, you could probably have time to meet with that new poet who had just become a member at your club while you away in America, they were from Germany to believed and-

Your thoughts were cut off as you stepped in what sounded like a puddle, that was strange, you were on a train, did someone spill their drink? No that could not be it, you were in the washroom for such a short time that they would probably still be here, trying to clean it up. You looked down at your boot covered foot to see what you had stepped in…

“What?”

That cannot be right, the puddle was a dark crimson red, like blood, how was that possible? Your eyes followed where the puddle was coming from, leaking out from a door to your right that you passed while walking to the washroom. You looked up into the glass of the door…

And the scream that ripped from your throat must have alerted the whole train.

Dead, the man you passed by earlier was dead…

No, that was not possible…

You could not have been in the washroom for more than five minutes…

But there he was, dead.

You did not even realize that the train staff was pushing you out of the way as they came running to the scene. They were also taken by their shock and had to hold back their screams as they could handle the situation. One of them stepped forward, and attempted to open the compartment door…

“It’s locked.”

Your eyes widened at that statement.

This couldn’t be-

“Get her back to her compartment, she needs to sit down.” The voice of one of them told another and you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and guided you back to your compartment. The door opened and the Moriarty brothers were already back and to them you must look like you just met death, and in a way you did. You felt William’s hands come to take you by your forearms to guide you down to your seat next to him while Albert talked to the crewman, but you could not process what they were saying as Louis and William were checking to see if you were alright as far as your physical condition, but mentally…

You were a mess, pale faced, tears rolling down your face, hyperventilating, all things someone should be after seeing a dead body…

Especially a murder based on one of your books.

Stay safe, that is what Evelyn told you before you left, well you do not feel safe anymore.

—————————

It has been months since that incident and you find yourself back in your study back at your townhouse in London. Since then there has been an increase in the incidents based on your books, the last one that happened three days ago was the seventh, and honestly all of this was driving you a bit mad. You had shut yourself in your house most days, your maid running out to the market on your behalf and your assistant running errands to you and dropping chapters off at your editor’s office, the only time you really went out was when you went to the writer’s club, those four walls were a sanctuary for your troubled mind where you pull hear about the stories your friends wrote up or listen to the poetry readings from the other club members.

Your home on the other hand felt as if it grew a frightening aura, the place where you thought up of the tales and deaths in your stories that were an escape from reality became the source of actual deaths and mass murders. Your stories and tales became reality, not the fiction you intended to be.

As for the identity of the killer, no one has even a clue of who the Lord of Crime may be, not even any of your friends or yourself whose job was to write about mysteries and secrets. You all used to get your hands on old unsolved cases from Scotland Yard that were open to the public and solve them for fun as to get inspiration for your books, they were old and the culprit was long dead by the time you got your hands on the file, but this was something else entirely, this was an actual live and real threat.

It was late in the evening and you sat in an armchair in your drawing room, the evening’s newspaper in your lap and a cigarette in between the middle and index fingers of your right hand while a glass of red wine sat on the table next to you, it was an expensive vintage that Réne had gifted to you for your birthday. Across from you sat your friends, Lady Charlotte Basset in the other arm chair with a glass of wine herself along with Alex Pendel laying down your velvet sofa, her head propped up on the arm rest and a cigarette between her lips. Charlotte was a richly dressed woman, dark brown hair and green eyes that were only complemented by the emerald green dress she wore with her white fur shawl that you believed was mink fur. The two of them were going out to a music hall, a cabaret, later tonight but stopped here on the way to check up on you.

“You think this Lord of Crime likes the theater? Cause’ his crimes feel like one big act.” Alex said as she pulled the cigarette from her lips to speak and blow out a large puff of smoke into the air. “Think about it, it is suspected that he is behind the deaths on the Noahtic, and Réne was on it and he told me it literally ended up with them on the stage of the ballet, nearly scared some of the performers half to death apparently.”

“That is certainly one way to make a spectacle of your victims.” Charlotte added as she twirled the glass of red wine in her hand, but her eyes were fixed on nothing in particular, just gazing off as she loses herself in thought. “But you would need other people to assist with all of his little shows, as if the victim and killer are the cast then you would need the crew, the question is who are these allies to this so-called Lord of Crime?”

“Dunno, want me to write to my pop to ask him what he thinks.” Alex’s lips turned up in a teasing grin as she spoke those words. “Eh, but he’ll probably get pissed at the mention of what is happening to your books, I think my parents like you better than me.”

“As much as I love your family, I am not sure I want another crime lord to deal with in London.” You finally chimed in as you set your paper aside on the table next to you where your half finished glass of wine sat. “But honestly moving to America just sounds lovely right about now, do you think your parents will adopt me?”

“Probably.” Alex’s one word answer was responded with laughs from you and Charlotte. Then as silence settled in the drawing room there was a knock from the front door, your maid called out telling you that shade would get it, which allowed you all to continue your conversation. “But I am working on another rough draft for a book, but I am just stuck on the killer’s motive.”

“Oh, and what is your general idea?” Charlotte asked as you heard the sound of distant talking from the maid and your home’s visitor. “Are you going to write another novel with the notes from New York?”

“No actually, it is going to be about ten strangers who are invited to an isolated island by a mysterious host. And then they start to die one by one, leaving the remaining guests to realize that the killer is among them-“

“The problem with that is that the killer would unintentionally out themselves as such when they would be one of the people surviving.” An unfamiliar voice called out, butting in on your conversation. You all looked up to the doorway that led from the front entry into the drawing room and there stood next to your maid a young man, with messy dark hair that was pulled back into a short ponytail and eyes to match, he wore a simple button up and a black suit jacket and pants to match. “It’s just like how in that mass murder case six years back one of the survivors was the killer and they only found out years later when her son found her journal after she died.”

“Do… Do I know you?” You asked the stranger who had been let into your house and both Charlotte’s and Alex’s heads turned to look at him, Alex swung her legs over the edge of the couch so that she was sitting up straight in the presence of a stranger. The man walked up to you, walking past your friends present as if they did not exist and extended his hand to you to shake.

“The name is Holmes, Sherlock Holmes.” You noticed the glances of shock exchanged between Charlotte and Alex from where they sat. This was the famous detective of London, the best detective in the nation if not the world as a whole, and some of his cases did serve as inspiration for your novels. “You are the famous mystery author, Miss (Name), and if I had to guess your two friends are Alex Pendel, the American thriller novelist, based on her appearance on how she sits and the suit she is wearing was made and custom tailored by Catherine Donovan, I recognized it because my brother has suits made by her as well. Then your other friend is Charlotte Basset, another horror author, and she was by far the easiest to identify due to her father’s signet ring she wears on her thumb because it is too big for her ring finger.”

You watched as Alex began looking over her suit and the small brand initials that were embroidered on the cuff of her suit jacket and Charlotte looked down at the ring on her thumb which was indeed her father’s ring that he gave to her when she was a child because she kept on fidgeting with her hair and picking at her nails. You reached out to shake his hand, his rough calloused hands gripping your smaller gloved hands with a firm hold.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of having the best detective in London in my home?” You asked as he released your hand, letting you sit back on your chair’s armrest. “Let me guess, it is because you found a scene in my book unrealistic like those detectives down at Scotland Yard.”

“Unrealistic, your work? Never, they just have never seen a murder scene like the ones in your books, like about a month ago I murder scene that reminded me a lot of one from one of your short stories, it was not linked to the Lord of Crime incidents as the culprit was of of the staff members but that is besides the point.” He grabbed the paper you had sat on the side table by your wine and pointed at the headline, it was about the murder of a duchess who had been abusing her staff and the crime was believed to be done by the Lord of Crime. “I would like you as my partner in solving this case.”

“Excuse me?” The words escaped your mouth in your state of surprise and you could see similar expressions on the faces of Alex and Charlotte. You pushed the hand that held the paper aside and the detective as a whole as you stood up from your seat. You walked across the room to where you fireplace stood, a small fire crackling in the hearth, above which on the mantle sat a collection of your books, custom hard back books that were bound by a book binder in your hometown who knew you as a child, a gift from the people who inspired you to write in the first place. “Mr. Holmes, I am a writer not a detective and I do not want to get more involved with this Lord of Crime mystery than I already am, it could destroy me.”

“But what if it doesn’t, you truly have nothing left to lose at this point.” You snapped your head around at him when he said that, sending him a sharp glare and you watched him stiff up for a moment before shaking it off, you heard him clear his throat and mention something about you reminding him of a Miss Hudson, whoever she is. “What I mean is you have not made a single public appearance since you returned to London from your time in the states and that is presumably about you finding about the related incidents to your work, then not to mention your physical appearance is a clear reflection of that previous observation, bags under your eyes and the redness around them presumably from you rubbing them shows you haven’t been sleeping. That’s not to mention the thin layer of dust I saw on the shoes and umbrella by the door, which shoes you have not been going out much-“

“I think she said she wasn’t interested and had no desire to be like you, Mr. Detective.” You watched as Alex stood up, walking up to where the detective stood, staring him down, and if there was one thing Alex was good at, it was being intimidating. “So please you can see yourself to the door.”

“But she is already like me, I have heard about you all at your club solving unsolved cases that Scotland Yard could never solve that are twenty, thirty, forty, even fifty years old. I think it is pretty obvious that you all are detectives in your own right.” Sherlock looks down at her as he speaks before snagging the cigarette from between her fingers and taking a smoke himself and you could just watch Alex grow more irritated by the second and was about to blow. “Now another thing I remember about my brother is the last time he stopped by he mentioned something about a certain crime family moving into England.”

You could just see Alex’s eyes grow wide while the rest of her face remained still. She stood there a moment before grabbing her cigarette from her detective and turning towards the entryway. “Cmon’ Charlotte, the show is at nine.”

You and Charlotte shot each other looks of disbelief as Alex made her way to the front door, but you just watched as she signed and downed the rest of her wine before setting her glass down on the end table near her seat before following after Alex, wrapping her mink fur tighter around her. You heard the front door open and close in your state of disbelief, leaving you and the detective alone. You both stood in silence for a long moment before he spoke up, breaking the lingering silence.

“So?”

“…What exactly do you need my help with?” Your question was begrudgingly asked and you just saw his expression light up like a child’s on Christmas when you finally gave in. “I cannot promise any help like I am an actual detective since I tend to approach situations how I would write them, I am an author first and foremost.”

“That’s fine, where is your study?” He was quick and straight to the point and you watched him walk out of your drawing room presumably to look for your study and home library. You watched as he walked to the doorway across from the doorway of your drawing room that was also connected to your entryway and he pushed open the doors to your study. You quickly followed him like you were a parent watching their excited child, trying to keep him wrong from wrecking anything. You cringed as he went behind your desk, looking at your manuscripts and journals that sat on top of it. “So this is where the great mystery author writes her stories. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see where you work or your work before it’s finished.”

“Um… yes, just please do not mess with anything, this is my life’s work after all.”

—————————

You have been working with the detective in your free time to try to solve this case, even then he would be showing up in your home while you were in your office writing or even when you were at the club, it got to the point where you maid had to tell him to stop showing up during your working hours since you needed to write in order to have a job and stay in business since you still had deadlines to meet. Your drawing room had been turned into a mess of Sherlock’s and your own clues, pieced and puzzled together, trying to find connections, though the difference between the two of your work was very clear, your clues were tucked in a series of folders, notebooks, and journals, meanwhile the detective’s were in the form of loose and sometimes torn up papers and notes that were now laid out throughout the carpet of your drawing room, you slightly feared that the carpet would stain with ink since it was a housewarming gift from your late father.

Despite all this, everything single clue you came across came to a dead end and led to no clear culprit. Your investigation made you truly realize what Alex meant when she told you one time how crime was truly a game, an act, to make it a spectacle for others to watch while the performers fight for control.

“How is your novel coming along?” Réne asked as you two sat in one of the lounges at the club. He sat on the couch across from your, his back pressed against the armrest so that his legs extended out on the cushions, he had his glasses resting atop his head so that they pushed back his hair as he worked on a sketch in his sketchbook that he had propped up on the thigh of his leg that was on the outside end of the couch that was bent into a V-shape. “Still struggling with that villain of yours?”

“I am afraid so, I have all the events laid out, the deaths and what not and how the killer did it, but I still have no motive for them.” You explained as you watched the maid of the club pour you a cup of an earl gray tea that Charlotte got for you all from a new tea shop a few blocks away from the writer’s club. You sat on an identical couch to Réne, though much more ladylike as you were about to have tea and not to mention the morning’s newspaper, that you had yet to read, resting on your lap. “Every time that it mentions the killer’s motive I just skip it over and leave it blank-“

“Sugar ma’am?”

“Two please, a dash of cream as well.” You answered the maid’s question as she prepared your tea for you before continuing on. “It is by far the worse writer’s block I have experienced to date, it has been weeks since I started writing and it would be practically finished if I could figure out my villains just give him life.”

“It is a him?”

“Yes… I think so anyway- oh thank you.” You cut yourself off as the maid handed you your cup of tea. You held the saucer in your left hand while you brought the teacup up to your lips, taking a sip to wet your throat. “But honestly this case with Mr. Holmes, trying to uncover this Lord of Crime has left me all sorts of frazzled that I cannot tell up from down when I return home at the end of the day, so I honestly think that I have my novel’s villain as some version of this Lord of Crime, a figure who cannot place, so close yet so far, just out of reach… I probably sound like a raving mad woman right now, don’t I?”

“A bit, yes.” Réne answered which grew a small giggle from you. His eyes never lifted from his paper as he spoke, his fingers still twirling around the pencil as he drew. “Speaking of our Lord of Crime problem, how many of your books are left in his little… hm….”

“Recreations?”

“Yes, that is the word I am looking for!” He said with a slight enthusiasm creeping into his voice as he flicked his pencil in the air at your answer. “But yes, how many are left? He has probably covered all your famous works by now.”

“Yes… well let me think….” Your voice faded for a moment as you went over your books in your head, the number of incidents has increased since your partnership with the famous, though not by choice, Sherlock Holmes had begun, but surely there had to be at least three or so books left, right? Well there was- no that was the first incident that happened while you were abroad in America. What about- no not that one either, you remember seeing that in the morning paper when Sherlock came running into your townhouse about it when you first started working. Then there was a moment of realization as you sat there, staring down at your tea, reflecting your face that has grown and probably aged a few years due to these cases. “…no.”

“No? That’s not a number- oh… that… I… I’m sorry.” Réne stopped his sketching in his realization, you could just practically see his expression when the silence was practically yelling at you.

“…Réne, since there are no books left, what if I am next?” Your question was just followed by more silence then you heard Réne’s pencil quickly scribble something on his paper before you heard the ripping of paper and the shifting of limbs as the fabric of his pants rubbed against the velvet couch cushions. He slammed his drawing down on the table between the two of you, where the tea set sat. You looked down at it and it was presumably of a man in a black coat and hat, but his face was covered by a smiling mask, the Lord of Crime, but across his neck was a thick and scribbled line as if he was beheaded. You looked up at Réne and he had a comforting smile across his face.

“Then I will do everything in my power to unmask him and protect you.” He fell back onto his couch, throwing his arms across the back rest, crossing his legs. “You are one of my best friends and he would be fool to think that I would not risk my own neck to protect you, and I know for a fact that Evelyn, Charlotte, and Alex would do the same… hell honestly Alex would be the worse enemy to have, she could make one call to her father and… well it would not be pretty and that is for certain.”

“Thank you, a friend like you is truly a rare thing, let alone four friends like you all.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

The terrible silence had faded into a more pleasant and comfortable silence, but you looked down at the drawing and into those black hole of the mask where the eyes would be, faceless and unsettling that gave you a creeping feeling up your spine.

God it was unsettling…

It made you feel like you were being watched…

Just please make it stop…

Stop…

Stop…

STOP!

As if by reflex, you sprung up out of your chair and snatched up the drawing from the table, and this drew Réne’s attention to you again as a concerned expression set in on his face.

“Are you alright?”

“Alright… alr- Yes! I am perfectly fine, I… I just remembered I… I meant to send a letter to my mother and I left it in my study back home, I-I just really needed to do that!” A lie, that honestly you did not know why you told it, not even the slightest clue as to why. You grabbed your messenger bag from the ground, throwing it over your shoulder. “I-I should go do that, before I forget to and the post office closes.”

“O-oh, alright?” Réne seemed unsure of your sudden shift in behavior. “Do you need me to walk you home-“

“No!- I… I mean I’ll be alright….” You two once again stood in a tense silence as you looked back at each other with equally confused expressions. “…bye.”

You could only say that as you turned on your heel as you walked to the door of the club, the maid giving you your hand and coat as you were about to leave which you put on in a rush as you tried to get out the door to get out of the gazes of your friends and colleagues.

You stumbled out onto the streets of Mayfair, you did not bother trying to get a hackney, you needed the fresh air that is what you needed, you think. You nervously fidgeted with the strap of your messenger bag as you walked down the street, your eyes darting around at the brick pavement beneath your feet, not bothering to watch where you are going since the way back home was practically muscle memory-

Suddenly you were knocked over as a gentleman walked past you, the heel of your shoe getting caught in between the bricks that formed the pavement below you, an all too familiar scene for you, but you suppose that is what you get for not watching where you are going.

“I am so sorry- Miss (Name), we have met like this before have we not?” That voice was familiar to you, you looked up to see the smiling face of Professor William James Moriarty looking down at you, his gloved hand outstretched to you like that day at the docks on your return home. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he looked over your form as you took his hand and he pulled you up from the ground. “Are you alright? You look rather pale?”

“Y-yes… I-I am… No?…. Maybe- I really don’t know right now, I-I… I can’t think- god what is wrong with me?” You could not get your mind straight, your hands felt clammy and tingly… your entire arms at that… god was it always this hard to breathe? You can’t think, oh god why can’t you think? “I fear I am going mad, Profe- William.”

“You are trembling- oh dear, you are having a panic attack.” You could not process him coming to stand by your side, taking your messenger bag from you and his other hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades. “My family’s estate is only a few buildings down, let’s get you inside and sit down and Louis can make you a cup of tea, does that sound okay?”

“Y-yes, I think.”

“Okay, just take deep breaths.”

Your vision and memory came in flashes between sight and darkness… walking down the road, turning into a Mayfair estate with an iron fence with a red brick base beneath it… William pushing open the door and calling out to someone as he guided you into the drawing room… Him guiding you to lay down on the sofa in the room while someone else came into the room.

You could feel William’s hand held onto yours, letting you have something to ground yourself on, and you could hear William’s voice telling you…

“Take deep breaths, in and out.”

In and out…

In and out…

In and out.

His voice served as your thoughts, allowing you to calm down from the height of your panic attack. You could finally process what was before you, a white ceiling. You could process what you felt, the fabric of your dress, the velvet of the Moriarty drawing room couch, the warmth and leather from William’s gloved hand that held onto your own.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?” You heard William ask you as you pushed yourself up with your free hand that was not squeezing the life out of William’s hand. “Louis is making you some tea, he nearly got a fright at seeing you in a panic, ran off to the kitchen in a rush- oh just lay down! You are probably light headed or dizzy, just wait to sit up until your tea is ready.”

“O-okay… thank you William.”

“It is the least I can do.”

A few minutes passed before the scent of citrus and spice hit your nose as Louis stepped into the room, setting the tea tray on the low table between all the pieces of lounge furniture in the room. William set a hand on your lower back, helping you sit as Louis poured a cup of tea for you. Louis gave William the cup of tea to hold with his free hand while his other hand rubbed comforting circles on your back, which was wiser than letting you hold it since your hands were shaking violently still.

“I am s-sorry… I-I…”

“There is nothing to be sorry about, my dear.” William replied as your voice trailed off into your scrambled thoughts. “It is natural to experience such fits under stress… which reminds me, if I may ask, what is on your mind?”

“Um… a lot….” You laughed after those two words, laughing at your madness as you ran your fingers through your hair and tugging slightly, your hat had fallen to the ground when William laid you down and Louis had picked it up and set it on the table. “My novel still has no antagonist, at least not one with a motive to kill nine other people- t-then not to mention I have to worry about a detective, who may or not be the love of my life of the bane of my existence but I may just be thinking that because I am going mad, and him appearing in my house at any hour of the day because he think he found a lead with the blasted Lord of Crime case- AND! That’s the other thing, this Lord of Crime, all of my books have been made a horrible reality by him and now there are not any books left and I have an aching fear in the back of my mind that I am next… I… I really am going mad, aren’t I?”

“You are not mad, you are in distress which is only natural, dear.” He said as he guided the tea cup into your hands, his hand coming to rest on the back of your own to keep you from dropping the cup as you brought it up to your lips and taking a sip. “Perhaps the Lord of Crime is just a fan of your work, I doubt he would dare to lay a finger on you.”

“Well he is certainly a fan I do not wish to have.” You said as the cup of tea parted from your lips and William set it back down on the table with a soft clinck. “This all has been driving me mad… honestly working with him has only made it worse, he is like an eager puppy.”

“By he, you mean the detective you are working with who I am guessing to be a Mr. Sherlock Holmes.” William stated but it sounded more like a question so you hummed softly in response. “I have met him a number of times before, brilliant mind, just a bit childish under certain circumstances. Also if I may suggest perhaps a small break is needed, for the sake of your mental health.”

“Ya… huh, maybe I should just quit this author thing.” You felt William stiff up at the mention of that, his hand that was running circles on your back freezing in place, but you honestly did not pay much mind since there was so much going on in your mind. “Or maybe I should just disappear entirely… that is something I thought about before, faking my disappearance, I know how I would do it too. Maybe take a ferry to France, go off and start a new life in Paris- or maybe America, I do have friends there who would probably adopt me into their family since they like me better than their own daughter, Miss Alex Pendel, you probably have heard of her-“

“You are rambling, breathe.” William cut you off, but you did not feel like you were rambling. “I am just suggesting a break, not to disappear, isn’t writing your life blood after all?”

“Yes… b-but I never wanted it to become this… I have created a monster.” You closed your eyes at that thought. You loved writing, it was why you lived, you thrived from it, but people were suffering from your stories… well they were, you have no more stories for the Lord of Crime to work with, if you did not publish another it would all stop, right? It had to. Your hands fell to your lap, clutching your skirt in your hands, as if you were trying to get your body to agree with your mind who has already made its decision. “…I am done.”

“Done? Whatever do you mean?”

“I… I cannot finish my next book, maybe my unfinished antagonist was a sign to stop while I am ahead.” You were facing forward, towards the table, so you could not see the sorrow and pain come across William’s face. “If I stop writing, then the Lord of Crime has nothing else to work with and no one else gets hurt because of me.”

“I… please think about this-“

“I have to go… I need to visit my publisher.” You stood up from the couch with your unsteady legs, grabbing your hat from the table. You did not spare William a glance as you made your way to the door, only words. “I am sorry William, I know you enjoyed my books, but I can’t live with myself if this happens again.”

The estate grew silent as you let, the front door closing being the last bit of sound within the house. Tears fell from William’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks, but his face remained emotionless. There was a few minutes of silence before his eyes fell on your messenger bag you had left behind. He tried telling himself it was wrong to go through your belongings, but what harm could it do now?

He grabbed the messenger bag from the ground, setting it on his lap as he opened it. He pulled out the contents one by one, makeup, pens, pencils, loose notes with plot thoughts of character ideas, but the two that caught his eyes more than anything else was a drawing, the drawing of the faces Lord of Crime from Réne, and a stack of papers that were bound in a leather portfolio, your unfinished masterpiece.

—————————

You stood in your study, tucking old papers and notes away into boxes to put in your cellar. You could not find your unfinished manuscript, you just assumed you must have left it at the Moriarty estate but it really did not matter since that book would never be seeing its conclusion. You had already written to your editor and met with your publisher, ending your partnership with both of them. As for work for the time being you made a enough money from your book sales still that you would be comfortable for a while, but maybe once things have settled in a few months or a year’s time you would accept one of those teaching jobs as a professor that had been offered to you at women's colleges in Oxford or Cambridge. Or your other thought was moving back up to your hometown in Northern England and help your mother with her shop, disappearing into the shadows forever.

You heard a knock at your front door which was followed by the footsteps of your maid as she went to answer it. You closed the lip on the last of the boxes, setting it on top of the stack of the others that had been packed by you earlier, when the doors to your office burst open to reveal the overly eager detective.

“Miss (Name), I think I found-“ Sherlock cut himself off as he stepped inside your emptied study, looking around only to see your life’s work in boxes, ready to be hidden away forever. He was clearly taken aback by all this, looking around the room with an uncertain eye. “What’s all this then?”

“I am quitting, Mr. Holmes.” That was all you needed to say for the detective’s expression to turn to disbelief at hearing your words. “Every single one of my worlds has been tarnished by this Lord of Crime and honestly I do not want to write another book just to give more fuel to the fire.”

“So you are just giving up?” The detective snapped back at you, taking you by surprise now. He was clearly angry and annoyed at your choice, that was certainly clear. “You are just laying down and choosing to die, is that it?!”

“Sherlock, I cannot continue to write when it will sentence people to death!” You yelled at him, gesturing back into the drawing room across the hall where stacks of clues and evidence sat on any flat surface, waiting to be cleaned up next after you packed everything up in the cellar. “Do you know how many people were going to die in my next book if I finished and published it?”

“No-“

“Nine! Nine people and their blood would be on my hands!” You cut him off with a shout, you could feel tears building up in your eyes as you yelled at him. “I can hardly live with myself knowing that my twisted works of fiction have become reality and taken so many lives, the least I can do is spare nine more.”

“We could catch him and you could continue your books-“

“Enough!” You shouted at the top of your lungs, and you watched as the detective grew red in the face as he became more and more angry and irritated at your actions. “I am not doing this anymore, I… I can’t… you are a detective, your job revolves around reality, I am… I was an author, I wrote fiction and I never wanted it to become reality.”

“Damn it all! It is all his fault! God damn this Lord of Crime” He shouted at you before rolling his eyes with the shake of his head and a heavy scoff. He turned on his heel, waving you off as he walked towards the front door of your townhouse. “Find me if you change your mind, but I won’t give up unlike you.”

You stood alone in your office as the front door opened and slammed shut which drew a squeak in surprise from your maid who was brewing tea in the kitchen for you. You leaned back on your desk, a sandalwood desk, a gift you got for yourself when your sales blew up after your first book which secured your position in England’s high society with your new money. The desk cost you what your childhood home cost when your mother and father bought it a few months before they had you. You worked to where you are today, living in an expensive townhouse in Mayfair, an area famous for its affluent residents, upscale shopping streets like Bond Street, world-class art galleries, exclusive members-only clubs, and its reputation as a luxurious and high-end area of London. You grew up in a small town, making flower crowns with your friends and jumping in the nearby creek that was by your childhood home, now you drink wine and champagne at parties held at manors of Dukes and Duchesses and wearing dresses that costed more money than your parents ever had when you were a child. You went on trips to Paris to study the catacombs and watch the Opera and went to New York to experience the nightlife and parties on Long Island and overhear what happened in the back rooms of the mansions of these new money families that controlled the country, divided among these families.

Your books let people indulge themselves into their dark thoughts without it being considered scandalous but rather a new trend, a competition to be exact, and in the words of Evelyn when she first met you…

“Everyone in London wants to know what is going on in that twisted little mind of yours to come up with the things you do.” It was at a high society party when she told you that, pulling you aside into the drawing room of the manor you were in, giving you a joint to smoke that you found out was from Alex’s family that may or may not have had the tobacco mixed with some form of cannabis, giving you both a small high, which definitely made clear where Evelyn’s moments of inspiration for her books came from that were full of pure body horror. “But then again, they all are obsessed with what they cannot fathom and what they are horrified by, it gives them a thrill, like a drug.”

There was a reason why the most popular authors of the age were of the macabre and gruesome, and Evelyn could not have phrased it any better, they were fascinated by what they could not or did not wish to fathom…

Alex’s stories let people see into the world of the mafia of the new world, romanticized in many ways, but the moods they elicit, giving their audiences heightened feelings of suspense, excitement, surprise, anticipation and anxiety, giving them a thrill. Fear of getting caught in a sex scandal or perhaps trying to hide a body before someone finds out that you were the one who rammed a knife into their skull.

Charlotte's novels touch on fundamental issues of human existence: the nature of the soul, the weighty fact of mortality, and the burden of ancestry and history. Spirits represent heavy-handed instruments of supernatural justice, plunging those responsible for their deaths into a living hell where they suffer for their sins. This world and what comes after.

Réne’s books are all about the terror within, not without. His work shatters the illusion of humanity in a poignant wayby holding a mirror up to society and saying: look at what we truly are, and look at what we pretend to be. Under that mask of civility, there is depravity. Under that thin veneer of society, there is wickedness. Under all the trappings of sophistication, are we not all predators or prey?

Little Evelyn had a wicked little mind, her genre examines a universal fear: our own failing anatomies. You rarely think about what goes on beneath your skin. You understand that the organs operate in harmony: the heart beats, the lungs pump air, and the gastrointestinal system labors to supply us with nutrients. But you don't ponder like she does the minutiae. Like whether embryonic parasites encyst in our brains, or what stage of cirrhosis we might be facing, or if tumors bloom deep in parts of ourselves we hope never to see. You have seen a grown man, an inspector at Scotland Yard at that, vomit after reading an excerpt from one of her books.

Your works on the other hand gave the people a taste of psychological suspense and atmosphere, developed as all the characters' innermost secrets are revealed, there is usually also a gradual build-up of tension before the murders actually occur, as if everything could slip at any moment and everyone’s secrets would be revealed and the world would all but crash and burn all around them, and the people along with it. The key factor, though, is that there is usually some ingenious piece of deception involved, just like how the Lord of Crime has been deceiving London with his mask and his show, drawing them all in all along, and now you were about to crash and burn with it all…

You shared Sherlock’s thoughts when he said damn it all…

Your maid was cleaning up the drawing room from all the papers and clues from your useless investigation with the detective when you finally came out of your study, your face stained red and swollen with your tears and six envelopes in your hands. Your maid looked up at you with a worried expression in her eyes as she saw the state of your face.

“My lady, are you alright-“

“Yes….” You took a nervous breath as you approached her, your heeled boots clicking on the hardwood at first which made your heart skip a beat, which was enough in your scared state of mind. You reached out to your maid with the envelopes in that hand, forcing a smile to come across your face as you did. “Could you drop these off at the post? They are to a number of my friends along with my mother and Mr. Holmes. You can head home after that, I think I shall turn in early tonight and I can handle this mess, after all I did make it with Mr. Holmes.”

“O-oh, very well my lady.” She responded as she took the envelopes from your hand, tucking them into her apron pocket. You stood there in the drawing room, swallowing the lump in your throat as you listened to the footsteps of your maid as she grabbed her coat and hat from the coat closet. You heard the front door open and then her voice called out to you. “Do you wish for me to pick up anything for you when I come back in the morning, My Lady? I remember seeing the bakery two blocks away selling a new sampler box of macarons, apparently their new patissier is from Florence in Italy.”

“Thank you, but I shall be alright.”

“Alright, goodnight then my lady.”

“Goodbye.”

—————————

It was a lovely spring day in London, a rare day without a cloud in the sky. William was walking down the street, his eyes fixed on a letter in his gloved hand that he received this morning, it was penned in your handwriting and the messenger boy said it was dropped off at the post office along with five other letters by a woman who matched the description of your maid, who he had met along with Louis when they ran into her by chance at the local bookstore when he was picking up a copy of your latest book, she and your assistant, a young lady who was hoping to be a journalist one day and you had taken her under your wing, were dropping of signed copies that you were donating to the shop, your maid told the brothers that you would have dropped them off yourself but you were leaving for a six month long trip to the Americas, New York City specifically, so you could research something you were curious on with the night life of that side of the world and who ran it.

He spotted the house with the address on the envelope, 600 North Audley Street, which was, as the street name suggested, just north of Grosvenor Square in Mayfair. The house has a number of barricades around it and a number of officers of Scotland Yard along with four other figures, all of them he recognized, Sherlock Holmes with no sight of Dr. John H. Watson, there were also the famous authors Réne Drew, Lady Charlotte Basset of York, and the little miss Evelyn Jay, and all of them, including the detective, held a letter similar to the one William held, but all of their faces were riddled with worry, except Sherlock Holmes, but William knew he would crack in private.

“I see you all have received letters like myself.” William called out to the bunch who awaiting outside of the door of your townhouse, looking around he also spotted your house’s maid and your own personal assistant sitting on the brick stairs that led up to your front door, surrounded by Scotland Yard officers asking them questions which explains why he could not see them from afar, but they were in such a state of shock that neither of them could hardly answer a single question and even if they could, they did not know the answer. William held up the piece of paper he received with a smile. “I see we all know the author.”

“And who you might be?” Lady Charlotte snapped at him, her eyes narrowing. William knew a bit about her and her family, her brother had been suspected of murder a number of years ago, the summer before their writing club was founded to be exact, which while the heir of the family was found innocent this fact about the club led William to believe she had something to do with it especially since the victim was the man she was arranged to be married to. Her face was as rigid as her clothing looked, a scarlet red gown that probably costs more than most dresses women of the town could even afford and her signature white mink shawl. “I do not recall (Name) ever mentioning you before-“

“Well I certainly did not expect to see you here, Liam.” Sherlock cut the lady author off as he laid eyes upon the mathematics professor. “This is Professor William James Moriarty, a friend of mine, but I am surprised you knew Miss (Name). Now I truly wished we all could have met that day on the train back from York, a competition with one worthy opponent is one thing but with two is another entirely! I thought for a time she might be the Lord of Crime if her behavior did not show otherwise and the evidence proved her innocence under every instance-“

“Would you shut up!? Do not mention this whole Lord of Crime bullshit now!” Réne snapped at the detective, seizing him by the collar and bringing his face close to his own as the French author was filled with a rage that was clear as day. William had heard that the famous Réne Drew was normally a calm and composed man, maybe a bit too relaxed due to his occasional indulgence in wine and the arts, but this was a different man entirely based on their behavior. “My best friend is missing and you thought she was was the fucking Lord of Crime?! Was that the only reason you wanted to work with her?! Answer me, damn it!”

“She is what?” William was shocked by this statement by the Frenchman, he must have looked like a surprised cat when he heard his, eyes wide but the rest of his face remaining still, because all faces turned to him, but the young Evelyn Jay was the one who approached him, and she was the one who appeared most unbothered by the situation if bothered at all.

“It did not mention it in your letter, telling you that she is not to be looked for and that no one would find her even if they tried.” She handed William her letter and it indeed had written what she claimed it did, but it was far different than his own which he handed to the young lady to read, which she did do so. He had only really heard rumors about the morbid young author, that she watches illegal awake surgeries as inspiration for her books or that she had been in the habit of paying people to steal dead bodies for her so she could see how the human body would react to various situations that would be highly traumatic on the body so she could use that for her books. Evelyn calmly read his letter silently before handing it back to him. “It would seem that Professor Moriarty received a different letter than the rest of us seeing as he was not informed of her disappearance. But it is indeed true, she went missing sometime last night, her house is an absolute disaster, but Mr. Holmes found that was done by her due to nothing highly valuable or sentimental being damaged, proving there was not a real struggle, but a set up but the reason why is still unknown. Her maid and assistant were the ones to find the staged scene this morning when they arrived together this morning after having breakfast at a nearby bakery, scared them half to death, then the rest of us arrived not long after, rushing here after we received the letters-“

“Sorry I’m late!” A feminine voice with a thick New York accent called out from down the road, the same direction William arrived in. Everyone looked to see Miss Alex Pendel, dressed in her favorite red suit which drew stares from anyone who did not know her. William had heard about her family, a crime family who practically has all of the state of New York in the palm of their hand; the city that shared the name was the heart of their organization. She waved in her hand a slip of paper that did not look remotely similar to the ones the other held, her own was a telegram, so someone had sent for her when they found out she was missing the three other authors present were the most obvious suspects. But the American author was a part of your inner circle like the other three, so why did she not receive a letter? “Seems like everything that I was told is true, she really is missing.”

“Yes, it is good to see you received my telegram, Alex.” Evelyn chimed in, glancing past William to her closest friend. So Evelyn was the one to send the telegram, but the question was how did she know Alex was the only one not to receive one. Evelyn glanced around at the others who must have been coming to a similar conclusion as the professor. “I figured that (Name) may not write to Alex since she had just returned home from a trip from the Netherlands last night, I only knew she was back because I was the one who fetched her from the docks.”

“I see.” William responded to the young lady’s gleeful tone. She twirled around the center of the circle of the geniuses to face William once again with that ever so innocent smile on her face which was almost unsettling in these circumstances which made William think perhaps to look back into those rumors he heard about her before. “If she is missing then what shall we do since she does not wish to be found?”

“A competition! Let us see who can find her first!” The smile on her face grew even wider when she said those words, this was a game to her, just like the aristocrat who perished on the Noahtic for hunting humans for sport, the difference being that she has a good heart beneath all the gore and horror. “I do not know about you professor, but the rest of us are all forms of crime related geniuses both fictional and reality.”

There was a stunned silence among the other authors, and a smile coming across Sherlock’s face in glee at the idea. William heard a scoff from the American author next to him and he glanced over to her to see her with an expression he could not quite place. “Pass, I’m afraid I will be returning to America in a few weeks.”

“So soon? You went on that trip with (Name) a few months ago?” Evelyn’s smile falters into an expression of curiosity as Alex makes that comment. “I remember you telling us how much your family enjoyed (Name’s) company.”

“There is no need to remind me about their favoritism.” Alex snapped back at her friend before quickly calming back down with a sigh. “But yes, I am afraid so, I need to get some papers settled with my father and brothers about some changes to our family’s mansion.”

That day of your panic attack…

“Also if I may suggest perhaps a small break is needed, for the sake of your mental health.”

“Ya… huh, maybe I should just quit this author thing.” You felt William stiff up at the mention of that, his hand that was running circles on your back freezing in place, but you honestly did not pay much mind since there was so much going on in your mind. “Or maybe I should just disappear entirely… that is something I thought about before, faking my disappearance, I know how I would do it too. Maybe take a ferry to France, go off and start a new life in Paris- or maybe America, I do have friends there who would probably adopt me into their family since they like me better than their own daughter, Miss Alex Pendel, you probably have heard of her-“

“You are rambling, breathe.” William cut you off, but you did not feel like you were rambling. “I am just suggesting a break, not to disappear, isn’t writing your life blood after all?”

“Yes… b-but I never wanted it to become this… I have created a monster.” You closed your eyes at that thought. You loved writing, it was why you lived, you thrived from it, but people were suffering from your stories… well they were, you have no more stories for the Lord of Crime to work with, if you did not publish another it would all stop, right? It had to. Your hands fell to your lap, clutching your skirt in your hands, as if you were trying to get your body to agree with your mind who has already made its decision. “…I am done.”

A small smile came across William’s face as he recalled this and looked at Miss Alex Pendel…

So that is why you did not write to her.

—————————

The heat of the summer day had faded away with sunset, leaving the countryside of England to grow quite a chill as you walked through the dark country paths on your way to the train station, if it could be called that since it was more of a platform as there was no building beside the ticket office from where you bought your ticket the day prior, that as a short walk from the small town you were staying in in a house provided by Alex’s family who aided you in stage it your disappearance a few months prior, three months to be exact. Alex had visited you a few day ago upon her return from her brief trip to her hometown to let you know that everything was ready for your arrival, she gave you a boat ticket, and told you that her mother and father would pick you up upon your arrival and then your new life would begin and this life would be eased into nothing but history, a small price to pay to rid yourself from your old life that had been absolutely tarnished. Your time in America had inspired you for another story, it was not a crime, but a romance influenced by the environment you have seen in both England with the old and new money, and then America with the lively atmosphere there. You had not thought much about it besides the name of one of the characters, the flowers outside your cottage door in this small town you had been staying in these last few months were daisies, you always liked those flowers and that name, Daisy.

You walked up the stairs of the train platform and it was very dark, you could hardly see without the lamp posts that guided your way. Now as you stood at the edge of the train platform you could see a distant figure sitting on one of the benches. There was only one lamp that was posted over the ticket office door, so you could not see the details of the figure who sat on the bench. You could hear the distant whistles of the train, it was a few miles away but you could hear it clearly due to the dead silence of the countryside at night. Your boots clicked against the ground as you approached the bench next to the figure who you assumed was waiting for the train. You sat down on the other bench, setting your hard back suitcase on the ground next to you before reaching into your pocket and pulling out your pack of cigarettes and a match, you lit your cigarette that you places between your lips to hold it along with your other hand that did not hold your match and right as you were about to shake out the flame from the match you heard footsteps of the person on the other bench get up and approach you, making you stop and pause. The fire illuminated the person’s features in a flickering light as you looked up at him, and your expression was taken by shock as he smiled down at you with those red eyes.

“Professor Moriarty… What in god’s name are you doing here?” You pulled away the cigarette from your lips as you spoke to him, looking up at his smiling expression with a confused gaze as your eyes were locked with his which reminded you of blood. Something was not right, you had no doubt in your mind that William went to your house after receiving your letter which told him he could keep the unfinished work you left at his home as a gift to him for his kindness to you, but was he looking for you like the others were in their little competition?

“I finished reading the work you left me on the train ride here and I have to say it is by far your best work.” He spoke, completely ignoring the question you asked which gave you a pounding worry and anxiety in your chest.

“Thank you… but I must ask you to answer my questi-“

“Your killer, the method in which they did it truly fooled me, I never expected them to fake their own death.” You could feel the pounding in your chest as you looked up at the professor who still did not answer your question. You could feel the anxiety and worry in your chest turn into dread as you looked in his red eyes, just like blood.

“William-“

“They do lack a motive still, I remember you mentioning that you were struggling with that detail.” You saw him raise his right hand in your peripheral vision, but you could not quite see what he was holding as your eyes were still locked with his own. “But perhaps I can help?”

You were almost afraid to break eye contact with him and look at what he was holding, god you felt sick, but why?! You felt William’s gloved hand turn your head slightly but gently, forcing you to look at what he was holding, it was Réne’s drawing of the Lord of Crime, or as he titled it at least.

Wait-

That was it!

Your eyes widened in shock and horror at your realization…

That question you asked to Réne the day of your panic attack…

“Since there are no books left, what if I am next?”

You turned your head to look at William once again and when his scarlet red eyes narrowed at you in the darkness, only lit by the fire of your match for your cigarette, it sent shivers down your spine.

“You are the Lord of Crime.”

“Correct, I have to say I have been wondering if you or Mr. Holmes would figure it out first, but it seems you beat him to it even if I had to spell it out for him.” The smoke was building up between the two of you as your cigarette was just burning up, and the smoke was almost making it hard to breathe. Your palms were growing sweaty in your terror, correction, your entire body was burning up like your cigarette and the flame on your match and his smile certainly did not help with that. “I first found out about one of your books when an associate of mine was reading one of your novels on the way back from the mission site. While Louis did not fancy it that much, he did recommend it to me and I will say I was skeptical at first but then I have to say I was proven wrong when I opened up one of your books. People read your books to be taken into the mind and the world of someone they cannot fathom or do not wish to, but honestly when reading your works it is finally a world I can understand, a world created by someone who can understand my mind and keep up with me. I wondered if your fictional crimes could survive in the real world so I took a risk and tested my theory and followed your books like a script and I have to tell you my dear that you fooled everyone.”

“You realize I could report you now, do you not? You have not only revealed yourself but the identity of one of your associates with the mention of your brother.”

“Yes, but I doubt that you will have the chance.” Before you could ask what that meant he spoke up again, drowning out the sound of footsteps approaching you from behind between his voice and your loud heartbeat that roared in your ears already. “Question, if I gave you back your unfinished work, would you finish your villain?”

“Not a chance.”

“Shame.”

Your match went out and everything went black.

—————————

You did not like the new weight on your left hand ring finger, it made it far too difficult to hold paper down when you wrote and it made your fingers feel swollen not to mention how it smears the ink, but William insisted you wear it now since you are to be married in a month's time. You cringed at the thought of being married, especially to him, you two had already met with your publisher earlier this week to have your pen name changed to switch to your future last name for any future printings of your novels.

Then there was also the gossip of these entitled little rich girls who romanticize your engagement to him and you heard the gossip as you walked through the streets on William’s arm saying how they wished to be in your place and you just wanted to tell them they could be, it would be a good reality check for them. Then there were your friends, you have not seen any of them in months, Réne, Evelyn, and Charlotte not since before your disappearance, and then Alex you have not seen some you were engaged. You could not make yourself face any of them now, it would make you sick-

“Dear, are you alright? You look rather pale.” William’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you were back in the drawing room of the Moriarty brother’s estate in Durham, William thought it would be good for you not to be England when your newest book releases so you could avoid the press and fans, all who wanted their questions about you answered, and needless to say William did not want those questions answered.

“Yes… I just find myself out of it nowadays.” You answered as your eyes were still fixed on the cup of tea Louis had poured for you a few minutes prior. You heard William sigh and close the book he was reading and setting it down where he was sitting to move over to where you were sitting on the sofa.

“You have not touched a single cup of tea since you started writing again-“

“Since you kidnapped me.”

“I did what was best for you, it was eating you alive not to pick up a pen again.” He snapped back to your correction of his statement. William sighed as he places a hand over one of your own that was resting on your thigh and he spoke to you with a tone that almost trickled you into believing he cared about you. “I only want what is best for you and you will only strain yourself if you continue to push everyone away like you are.”

You just rolled your eyes and let your mind drift off again as you thought back on these last few cruel months that started all the way back upon your return to England, you should have just stayed in New York…

Ten little Soldier Boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine…

Nine little Soldier Boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight…

Eight little Soldier Boys travelling in Devon; One said he'd stay there and then there were seven…

Seven little Soldier Boys chopping up sticks; One chopped himself in halves and then there were six…

Six little Soldier Boys playing with a hive; A bumblebee stung one and then there were five…

Five little Soldier Boys going in for law; One got in Chancery and then there were four…

Four little Soldier Boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three…

Three little Soldier Boys walking in the zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two…

Two little Soldier Boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was one…

One little Soldier Boy left all alone; He went out and hanged himself…

and then there were none….

…you have to live with the fact that your book took nine more lives and had to hope that one day the tenth would join the others sooner than later.

[lynnuvo]

Hi I hope I’m not bothering you but I just finished reading the reenactment fanfics and I was wondering if you’d be open to make one about “Princess and the Frog” or “Mulan” those are the only films that I remember the character having a more “got get it/work for it” attitude and relate a lot to that plus the yans would be interesting to read (to me at least I mean it’s ur writing not mine) anyway thx for the attention hope u have a great day and keep writing awsome fics :>

From 👻 anon

Hello 👻anon! Thank you so much for the touching compliment! I was wondering which fairytale to do next, so I'm glad you suggested either of those. Although it's been a long while since I've watched Princess & The Frog, I'm going to try my hand at that one since I love the story. For those who prefer a male yandere, don't worry! I'm planning on writing another version of this fairytale for you ღ

.·:*¨ ✘- It Takes Two to Tango - ✘ ¨*:·.

Characters: Yan!Charlotte x Female (Y/N) in Tiana's role In which Charlotte intends to take the only desire she can't buy: her best friend

A Tale in the Baking

When you reincarnated into your new world, you were sleeping soundly in bed with a young, blonde girl who wore a frilly dress that scratched your skin. You were pretty confused and somewhat panicked about your predicament: your childlike appearance drastically contrasted from the mature adult life you've been leading. It wasn't until the end of the week that it finally dawned that you were in the middle of the fairytale "The Princess and the Frog."

Your father, James, had passed recently. Your mother, Eudora, shared his dream of owning a restaurant to you several times already as she reminisced her late husband. Of course, you provided as much comfort as you could. Charlotte visited your home every two days, more clingy than you remembered her being in the movie (likely due to the event).

Now, while you weren't aiming to follow exactly in the true protagonist's footsteps, the prospect of owning your own restaurant sparked a fire in your heart. It was ridiculously difficult to try to own even a car in your previous world. However, there was a key difference in that world and the current one: your family was close with the La Bouffs, the wealthy family Charlotte is from.

As you grew older, you became a confident young woman who didn't dare let a soul deceive her in any way. Because your relationship with Charlotte also grew, you vowed to never let anyone deceive her as well. She was veracious and at times ill-mannered, but you knew deep down that she was also naive. You weren't sure of what the true protagonist did outside of what was told in her tale, but it was your story now. So, you defended Charlotte at every corner & convinced her to tell you of any hardships she had--or of anything, really.

Who knew that such actions intended to protect her would ultimately backfire?

Lollygagging

Ever since she was little, Charlotte dreamed of a prince coming to rescue her from trouble. She'd ramble on and on about this dream to you, who listened to her oh so intently. As time passed, this dream took a different turn. She pondered about it often, twisting the idea in her palm left and right while guys fawned over her.

One night, her father came into her room and introduced an opportunity of a lifetime: to marry Prince Naveen of Maldonia. She was ecstatic and agreed right then and there. In that same week, however, she began having second thoughts.

She visited the restaurant you worked at alone soon after. Picking up her sour mood, you took your break early and sat with her at a table, inquiring whatever was the matter. For someone like her to display such an downcast face in public was a rarity. She told you about her worries. Was marrying Naveen the right choice? What if he wasn't as great of a prince as she hoped he would be? What if she wouldn't be happy after all?

After comforting her softly, you chuckled and cheerily reassured her that everything would be well. Marrying him would mean she'd have both her best friend and the prince in her life!

(You were really hoping they'd get married. On top of Charlotte's happiness, the prince would be a great advantage in your career.)

Charlotte left the restaurant with a laugh, but your support left her heart heavier than before.

At the masquerade ball hosted by her father in honor of Naveen's arrival, Charlotte escaped to your side at every chance. As much as you loved her, her constant presence was disrupting the anxiousness you were trying to keep down. The story had already started off on the wrong foot. Where Charlotte was meant to introduce her potential relationship with her father Big Daddy was instead Big Daddy stopping by to eat with one of his clients at your restaurant, sharing the exciting news.

Once Charlotte darted into the kitchen for the eighth time that night with another excuse to talk to you, you gripped her by the shoulders, instructed her to be a good host and tend to her guests, and to not search for you until the night concluded.

Charlotte hated how you pushed away--hated hated HATED it. But still, she'd do it for you. She'd do it because you trusted she'd listen.

In the meantime, you waited in Charlotte's room until a frog jumped onto your balcony. You already knew you were going to be outbid for the mill (just like how it was in the fairytale), so you weren't wasting any time crying over a destined lost investment. When Naveen in his frog form entered the home, you rolled his eyes at his request to help him find a princess and agreed as long as he married Charlotte regardless of whatever was to happen that night. He had no problem with that.

Lucky for you, knowledge from your past life would serve your career well. You told Naveen that because Big Daddy was crowned Mardi Gras king recently, Charlotte would be a princess. All you two needed to do was to wait for the party to end.

Barely Lovely Triangle

As you suspected, Charlotte came running up to you after the ball had concluded. She chided you with tears in her eyes for leaving her alone for so long. You apologized, saying you only wanted the best for her and the Prince and that you being there likely would've prevented any action from her towards him. She begrudgedly agreed before going on to share how wonderful the dance was. She'd never danced like a royal until that day.

You nodded and "uh huh"-ed and dropped compliments as she talked. Once she concluded, you asked her to please listen to what you were about to say. She guessed the matter had to be serious enough for you to possess such a tone, but she hadn't expect an explanation about the frog beside you.

She pointed at him, a corner of her lip lifted in uncertainty. "So he's a prince, the one I was just dancing with was a fake, so I have to kiss that him to bring the prince back?"

You nodded. "Yup. Do you believe me?"

"I....I do. But what's going to happen to the fake one?"

"He'll be exposed in no time. Please, Charlotte? For me?"

Oh, you know she can't resist any request if it's for you.

Naveen, truth be told, transformed right then and there, into a dashing human of royal blood. After talking about you three's lives for a little while, he bid farewell and wished to meet you and Charlotte again soon. Knowing better now, Naveen kept his distance from danger, and low and behold, Lawrence--the man who had disguised as Naveen with the help of an evil talisman--was arrested for fraud.

Surprisingly, that was the start of a friendship trio. You, Charlotte, and Naveen hung out together every now and then in different locations. Of course, you and Charlotte remained closer than ever, but you were relieved to at least have a breath of fresh air. You didn't really have that many friends in city because you were so engrossed in either work or plotting against a destined marriage you didn't want. You were especially glad that Charlotte and even her father weren't keen on getting Charlotte married as soon as possible. Maybe with how things turned out, you no longer needed to worry about the fairytale's plot.

Too bad Naveen eventually falls in love with you anyway.

His proposal came during one of those days where only two of the three in the group were hanging out together. He happened to stop by your restaurant as you finished your shift and offered to walk you home after stopping by another location. You accepted, but you later wished you didn't once the proposal at a beautiful park happened. You rejected him kindly and reminded him that he had a duty to fulfill, and that was marrying your friend. He apologized. You felt bad, but you weren't in love with the guy! Plus, you wanted that restaurant of yours more than anything in that world. No man was going to stop your dream.

You shared what happened the next day to Charlotte at her house. In contrast to the rant you expected from her, she was...eerily calm. She inquired about the person who has your heart, and to that you told her you didn't have anyone. She nodded and recommended you stay away from Naveen for a bit. Men can take rejection quite rough was the summary of her small spiel about men this and men that. And according to her recommendation (even though you were planning to anyway), you didn't pay Naveen's business any mind. He didn't come around as often.

Over the next couple weeks, Charlotte would visit your home more often to hangout. She'd bring up the topic of romance a couple of times, but your answer remained the same: your love was for her and the restaurant you wished to own.

You'd ask about her and the prince every now and then. Her answer was the same: she wasn't as sure about marrying him anymore.

Love is the Secret Ingredient

At last, Naveen's proposal came in the privacy of a beautiful park with a pavilion and crispy lake. He had set up a picnic for Charlotte and him. They chatted as they ate, and once they concluded their afternoon meal, he popped the question.

Although Charlotte had convinced herself for days that she must accept for her dear friend, she just couldn't.

"I'm sorry, but...I don't think I can do this."

To say Naveen was disappointed was an understatement. Not only did the real thief of his heart reject him, but his business partner and friend also did. Charlotte felt guilty, but imaging herself being stolen away from you was a nightmare! And imagining you being stolen from her.....

Without a proposal to the wealthiest family in the city, Naveen was lost. He had arranged the marriage with Big Daddy to combine their influential powers (Big Daddy's wealth & Naveen's royal title despite being casted out by his family). Luckily, you arranged for him to work with you--to start him on the path of someone in your class.

Charlotte, of course, hated it.

She got an earful from Big Daddy for her rejection, but she didn't care. He would soon lose interest in the proposal as well anyway. After all, she was a Daddy's girl, and he wanted her happy.

Charlotte walked you home almost every work day. Her constant attention made you worry for her own health, but she was a ray of sunshine around you. How hurt could she be?

Soon, Naveen stopped showing up to work. The manager told you that Naveen told him he had lost motivation to work and quit. You were stooped, but when you went to visit the hotel he's been staying at since coming to the city, the receptionist shared that he left two night ago.

Charlotte told you that he happened to overhear her talking about a wealthy friend she had in another city. She arranged for him to go meet and live with the friend at his request.

You scowled with a heavy heart. "Wow. He didn't even bother saying anything to me. How shallow."

Charlotte pouted. "Yeah! He dare he! Guess it's just back to us again, huh?"

You smiled. "Yeah. You get me, Charles."

Adoration flowed through her veins. She was worried you might catch some strange aura off of her, but she wasn't lying. The situation was just premeditated. Within a week, Naveen should arrive at the hotel Charlotte had pointed him to just to find out her friend (she gave her a fake name, of course) had already left that hotel present day's tomorrow. There was no way he could afford the trip back to New Orleans. His entire trip to get there was funded by Charlotte herself.

Two months passed before a letter arrived in your mailbox. The mill that you had lost during Charlotte's ball was bought from the previous owner, and the lawyer inquired if you still wanted the property. You didn't waste any time meeting with them. You intended to sign it over to yourself, but the lawyer suggested another property--one that was more spacious and had much more potential. He offered it at the same price, just as long as you took one or the other. You accepted the second option.

Charlotte was elated to see how thrilled you were. Because you used up most of your savings on signing over the new space, she offered to help renovate the place using her money with refusal for objects. She even asked if she could work for you whenever she had time! You couldn't help but be grateful for your dear friend. You were typically too busy for other friendships, but never too busy for Charlotte.

From then on, life was like a fairytale. You worked your butt off at your new restaurant and taught Charlotte the ins and outs of active involvement. She loved it. She loved working with you. She loved watching you negotiate with hagglers and host events to promote the place. Because you were often exhausted by the end of the day, she suggested (quite strongly) that you and your mom move into her home. It was safer that you come home with someone, and her house was so big, you'd have all the privacy you want!

(Don't expect much privacy from her, though).

Suitors weren't a rare occurrence. You became quite a sought after individual as your business grew. But Charlotte knew how you felt and ensured anything causing your stress was taken care of. You tell her everything, after all!

And of course, she tells you (almost) everything. No boy ever became a problem after Naveen. And like always, despite her new insecurities towards being involved in the "working" part of business, no one was to bring her down. For instance, Charlotte overheard an employee of yours discussing her lack of tack to a chef. She mumbled about it to you over dinner, asking if she was a burden to you. The next work day, the employee praised her progress more than twice in one shift.

One night, you both decided to have a sleepover in Charlotte's room. Trying on different dresses and watching movies had tired such pretty girls out. Laying in her bed, you brushed some blonde locks away from her gorgeous face. "You know Charles, these days, I feel like you're my only true friend."

Charlotte giggled and cuddled closer into your arms. "I'll always be silly. Even if the world crashed, we'll have each other to rely on. No one else!"

"You're absolutely right. No one else."

As she drifted off to sleep in your arms, you continued to brush her hair with a smile on your face. Running a restaurant was hard work, but gambling your luck on Charlotte was even harder. It was a relief she didn't reject Naveen due to affections for another guy. As long as you continued to open your arms out to her, you'll be fine, life would be bliss.

[galaxyfoxes]

Hey they may I request a platonic charlotte pirates x teen reader. The reader is big mom’s eldest and first grandchild the first one the family had. They are Katakuri’s only child (idk honestly if out of the older children he seemed like the most likely to have been married at some point in my head) a bit of a crybaby and health conscious? Because all that sugar cannot be good for anyone. They used to be really outgoing and outspoken as a child often getting upset because they wanted their grandma to eat more healthy and not at all scared of her dad’s face because to them it was always the face of her dad’s but something happened when they where 6ish and the reader got taken and “safely” gotten back but ever since then the reader stopped being so bubbly outgoing and outspoken and became more shy and quiet flinching towards any violence in her direction?

Platonic yandere Charlotte pirates

Of course! This was really fun to write!

(I didn't include everyone, I'm sorry)

Tw:yandere themes, overprotective behavior, isolation, kidnapping, manipulation, guilt tripping, mentions of harm, and reader needs therapy.

To say you were the favorite of the family would be an understatement. You're the child of katakuri and the first grandchild of the Charlotte crew, so you had a lot of eyes on you. And the fact you seemed to care about almost all your family was the icing on the cake.

Your father was with you almost all the time, making sure you were safe and happy. However, he'd let you roam around if big mom or his siblings were around.

For a while, katakuri kept his lower face covered around you since he didn't want to scare you on accident. But he eventually showed you after a lot of begging. At first, he was worried, but you proved him wrong because you didn't really care.

your main concern at the time was the amount of sugar your grandmother was eating. You weren’t an expert in health or anything, but you knew that much sugar could kill someone.

But whenever you try to make your worry known and offer solutions often while crying, big mom would simply pat your head and tell you, "Don't worry, dear, I'll be fine."

You are completely unaware of big mom's hunger pangs and the destruction that follows them. Katakuri and the other siblings lie and make excuses as to why you can't see big mom and why you and the others are running away.

You and big mom are very close as katakuri leaves you with her when he has to handle anything risky most of the time. The two of you often have tea while you talk about anything really.

However, when big mom couldn't watch you, then the older siblings like smoothie and cracker will.

You preferred smoothie due to her calmer and easygoing personality, and she gives you a lot more freedom than your father and grandmother. And the juice she makes is delicious, though you didn't know how she makes it because she always goes to a different different room to make it.

Things were going well until the one time you were left alone due to an emergency that required everyone's attention. This left you vulnerable, and a group of pirates took you with the intent to extort money out of your family.

Of course, you were rescued quickly and returned home safely, but the damage was done, and you became skittish towards nearly everything.

But the complete shift in your personality and the fear of losing you again pushed the family to become yanderes for you.

Katakuri is an overprotective, paranoid, and parental yandere.

After your kidnapping, he never leaves your side so no one can take you again without going through him first. He also only allows you to interact with a select few family members. He just doesn't want to risk the chance of them losing you.

He is also far less tolerable of any form of disrespect towards you. He isn't afraid to get his hands dirty for your sake.

Because you're so quiet and timid, he tries his best to accommodate you and makes sure you have enough places to hide from any perceived violence.

Out of the entire family, he is the most tolerable of your quiet personality and won't force you to talk.

He thinks you won't be able to take care of yourself, so he unintentionally treats you like a young child instead of a teenager. And when you have enough courage to speak up and call him out on his behavior, he'll just write it off as a childish tantrum.

In his mind, it's his duty to protect and make up for what he couldn't do in the past

Big mom is a possessive, manipulative, and unstable yandere

Big mom is an already unstable person to begin with, so adding yandere to the mix makes me feel bad for the reader

She takes the change of your personality the worst. Of course, she doesn't fully blame you. However, you'll have to be prepared for guilt tripping. What do you mean when you don't want to talk? Don't you love your family?

What makes it worse is that katakuri won't step in. Yes, he knows it's wrong, but he won't go against his mother.

Unlike katakuri, she won't let any other family member when she's around. Because she doesn't want

Because of your shy personality, big mom veiws you as weak, and you have to do whatever she tells you to do. And you always do what you're told to avoid confrontation and disappointment from your grandmother and father.

You are now more aware of her actions and personality, but big mom has enough restraint to not direct her behavior towards you, but it still scares you.

While she loves you, she's not afraid to make sure you obey.

Smoothie is a calm and easygoing yandere

Since you don't spend a lot of time with her, she cherishes all the time she has with you. She doesn't push you to talk and just requires you to be close.

She tries to act as a safe space for you as she knows katakuri and big mom can be a bit overwhelming for you. She lets you vent out your frustrations to her, and she won't judge. When you do, it gives her a sense of pride that she knows something katakuri and big mom doesn't know.

While she's calm around you, that doesn't mean she isn't afraid to remove anyone from the picture. For example, if you tell her you've been speaking to someone outside the family, she'll get rid of them and lie to your face about it.

She is a bit concerned about your situation as being stuck with big mom and katakuri doesn't sound like a good thing for someone's mind.

While she can't be with you all the time, she'll protect you from afar.

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! One Piece Charlotte Katakuri

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

🌟 He is extremely kind and basically a gentle giant when it comes to you. You have home wrapped around your pretty little finger.

🌟 Very insecure on how you view him due his appearance and wants you to view him as perfect just like everyone one else does.

🌟 Is a very possessive and touch starved yandere. Absolutely hates it whenever you interact with anyone but him even if it is his own family. Honestly can’t trust anyone to look after you because of how many enemies he has and how crazy his family members can be.

🌟 No matter where he is, he is always worried about your safety. Your well-being comes before anything else in his life. If anyone dares to lay a finger on you there is going to be hell to pay. Will frequently use his haki around you because is worried that you might get hurt. Definitely baby proofs the house you two live in. He can’t bear the thought of you getting injured no matter how small the injury may be.

🌟 Loves it when you touch him or physically interact but is too shy to admit it. Will give signs that he wants affection if he’s in the mood for some cuddles but won’t verbally announce it. He enjoys the feeling of your soft skin on his.

🌟 When you guys met you were a baker that he saw in a bakery. He was far from home and was low on his donut supply so he decided to stop by. The minute he saw you for the first time he believed that you were extremely adorable and pocket sized. He ordered some donuts and was extremely whipped. You can bake and you’re good looking! He definitely has to have you.

🌟 I can imagine him sailing back home as quickly as possible and just begging his mom if he could marry you. Will absolutely do whatever it takes just so he can have you, no matter what. If Big Mom says no he’ll try to convince her that being married to you will give the Charlotte family many benefits and explain how the two of you can produce powerful heirs. When she agrees he is immediately kidnapping you.

🌟 If you try to runaway from this, he will immediately kill everyone you are close to and destroy the island that you live on. You’re forced to go with him because you now have nothing and can only rely on him for the essentials for survival.

🌟 Your wedding will be big and grand. He wants to make sure that everyone in the Grandline knows that you belong to him and if anyone messes with you it will be a direct insult to the Charlotte family. Will be a complete groomzilla so much so that over twenty wedding planners will quit before your wedding actually starts. Makes sure that everything is spotless and the the way that he envisioned.

🌟 Wants to have as many kids with you as possible. The thought of you having a swollen belly with his baby just melts his heart. He believes that having kids is a way to show everyone that you also love him as well. He would definitely want his kids to inherit your looks and not his due to his insecurity with his mouth.

🌟 Loves it when you bake for him and hand feed him. He always includes you in his meriendas and will absolutely obliterate anyone who interrupts that time he has with you. It’s very sacred to him because it’s where he has the most free time with you and it reduces the stress of his position.

🌟 Like Ace, he realizes that his tendencies are very wrong but won’t do anything to change it because of how much he needs to be with you. He absolutely cannot see you interact with anyone else because it feels like he’s going to explode when he does. You only belong to him therefore he’s the only one who gets to take up your time.

🌟 Will turn as bright as a tomato if you ever call him cute. No one has ever called him cute before but he doesn’t mind it if you do it. He feels very normal around you and will be absolutely over the moon if you don’t find his mouth to be terrifying to look at.

🌟 He loves you more than donuts and all the sweets in the world. He’d be willing to give up anything in the world just to have the opportunity to be loved by you and to have your affection.

🌟 From the moment he met you, he’d only be willing to eat the sweets that you made. Will no longer eat any donut that is not baked by you, no exception. He treats everything you bake like it’s a fine delicacy that can’t be replicated by anyone else in this world. He loves watching you bake as well, it’s very therapeutic to just watch you around the kitchen while you hum in your own little world.

🌟 Definitely loves how small you are compared to him. He finds it cute how he just towers over you and you have to look up every time you wanna talk to him. You look like a sweet innocent kitten to him that could do no wrong. Even though he loves it he’s also afraid that he might hurt you at times and often treats you as if you’re made out of glass.

🌟 Can not sleep unless you’re in bed with him. I can imagine him patiently waiting for you to get out of the shower at night so he can finally fall asleep. He sleeps with you on his chest with his arms wrapped around you. You honestly don’t even need a blanket with his massive his arms are.

🌟 He’s usually very intimidating and confident around others but with you he’s just a blushing mess. Whenever he looks at you he just blushes no matter what. You read a book *blush*. You pick up a flower off the ground *blush*. You fall asleep on the couch *blush*. You simply exist *exist*. With you, he’s acting like a teenager that interacted with their crush for the first time.

🌟 You can do nothing but just accept his love besides who is crazy enough to go up against the commander of the big mom pirates? You’re just better off at accepting his love if you don’t want any unnecessary deaths, you are his after all.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Hey so I was reading through your old posts for fun and got to the part about reporters, specifically Big News Morgans, eating up the drama, and had a hilarious idea.

Nami seeing how much the reporters love the Strawhats and how they’re scrounging for any information on them, and deciding to start charging for interviews at exorbitant prices. It’s like 75,000 berries just to get in the door, and the price increases based on how much drama is surrounding the crew member they want an interview with, and how long the session goes. Like in Lucky Break, an interview with Lucky costs a million berries for 45 minutes. In Strays, an hour with Nubia is 2 million. 5 million for an hour with Sanji, Katakuri, or Princess Cara, triple for them together. Plus Nami is supervising all interviews and charging extra for the really juicy questions.

Zoro thinks it’s a waste of time, but Nami bullies him into his sessions. Luffy is nearly impossible to wrangle into it, and his answers are crazy hard to decipher. Robin thinks it’s hilarious and it’s fifty fifty on if she’ll go one hundred percent full truth, or just say the most out of pocket answer she can think of.

Also picturing the yanderes seeing the interviews, like someone asks Lullaby who her favorite potential dad is, the guy she says is holding on to this forever, and the rest are crying. Lucky tells a reporter that Smoker is her true love, half the world is on fire (literally). Nubia publicly roasts Spandam and he gets clowned on by everyone forever.

The reporters hate how much it costs but they’re still falling over each other on the way to the Sunny because they know they’ll still see a major profit once it’s published.

I love the mental image of Nami becoming the crews publicity agent lmao

She's great at it, too. She wrings out the maximum amount of money that she can from every reporter that takes the bait but then keeps most of it as her consulting fee. She'll be sitting in the room and has a series of hand motions that indicate things like "be more dramatic", "pump the breaks", "start lying", etc.

Princess Carnation is definitely the most expensive one given her former princess status and her connections with the Vinsmoke and Charlotte families. Katakuri is harder to wrangle into it because he genuinely doesn't like the attention, so it's rare for him to actually sit in on one and it costs A LOT.

Doll is next in price because of her Shanks being an emperor (not to mention the rest of his extended family). She's hesitant to do any interviews because she doesn't want to risk making Shanks mad enough to start chasing after her more seriously.

Next is Lullaby since all of her potential fathers are extremely powerful people, and the drama is something that the press really eats up. Lullaby is the least cooperative during interviews since she doesn't follow Nami's gestures and it's anyone's guess if she'll actually answer the reporter's questions. Asking who her favorite father candidate is is always a waste of time because she'll say Zeff no matter what. She'll only pretend to favor one of the candidates in the heat of the moment if she thinks she needs to in order to benefit herself or save someone else.

Dove and Nubia are similar in price since they're both children of warlords with connections to other powerful people. Dove doesn't mind it too much and will have fun with it, but Nubia hates it and very VERY rarely agrees.

Lucky is the "cheapest" (but still prohibitively expensive). Her love life is very fun for the papers to cover, but the fact that she's just some random person and not really connected to anyone does make her slightly less interesting to the public.