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#Yandere Trey Clover
qierxing · 2 days
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i cant do this anymore (goes and sketches horny art)
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mellowwillowy · 3 months
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"Stop the wedding!!"
So you get to see NRC food fighting RSA in the end lol Yan! NRC vs Yan! RSA x GN Isekai'd Player (Self-aware)
All the people inside the cafeteria turned their attention to you, an isekai'd player.
"(Name)!!" Idia beamed in tears, finally someone saving him! ... wait, someone? Oh no no no no! You are not just 'someone'!! Why did he even bother troubling you to this extent? He should have just kissed the bride!!!
"Make it right in time, you got me, Ace?" "Thank you for kicking me like a barrel toward the ghosts, pal," Ace replied dejectedly but posed no annoyance at all.
"Potato, since when do you have the funds to get yourself such a nice suit?" Vil questioned as he inspected your overall. The makeup and hairdo were not done to the utmost perfection but he can let it slide because anything on you equals absolute beauty.
"Oh, this? So you are smart enough to realize Crowley won't cover MY suit! I mean, he was trying teeth and nails to not let me join Ace and Co!"
"At least he does something right for the first time," Leona added. "White suits you though I thought you'd surely go with Black as usual?" Trey cocked his head to the side questioningly.
"Look, this is what Neige lent me. And all his attires are almost pristine white! I'm telling ya'!" At that statement, you saw Vil twitch despite not being able to move, he must have been very pissed at the mention of Neige's name alone.
"Originally I planned on taking Cheny'a's but I realized how eccentric his taste is so I decided to go with Neige. The RSA students are kind enough to assist Neige in tailoring it to my size too! Got them right in time before Crowley could shoo me!"
"Dude, even the RSA knows how to respect them, I don't know if I should be angry or nah but it certainly leaves a bad aftertaste seeing them wearing what RSA makes for them." Cater whispers something to the person next to him, inaudible to your ears.
"What do you say if we steal the suit and then burn it down in front of them after we are done here? I'd like to give them a nice thank you hug too while we are at it." "And we should leave them some of my... flowers collection too. This alone should be enough to show our gratitude right?"
"I'd say we should try giving them a proper form of token of gratitude too, how about Master Lilia's cooking?" Sebek added with a grin, he had his fair share of Lilia's cooking to the point he'd like to share it with the others.
"Oh? Then I'd have to make sure to add extra 'love' into it." He replied, this time intending to poison people so its horrifying taste was multiplied at natural without him realizing it.
"Wait, why would we even bother giving them a handmade cooki-" Jack was immediately silenced by Cater's eerie smile. He had his fair share and he knew they meant nothing well from it at all.
"Hey Ace, do something! Stop throwing all your work on prefect!" Deuce yelled by the sideline, ready to chew his ears off.
"I agree, you shouldn't let someone magic-less handle this handful situation alone, get a hold of yourself right now will you, Ace?" Azul scowled and started to usher Ace into work.
"Dude! Now all of you are cornering me?" "You haven't finished, Ace?!"
And Riddle's voice was all it took to make Ace cowered like a puppy. Rook shook his head in disappointment, this had taken way longer than the original gameplay.
"Hurry! We should wrap things up as though we are changing a dirty tablecloth into a new one!" Epel yelled out rather... unique lines. Was he trying to be as poetic as Rook? If anything, both Rook and Vil said nothing regarding this.
"Riiiiighhhhtttt, I'm kinda checked out now, to be honest." Idia's eyes immediately widened, not you too?!
Just before the other could chant another "Smooch the bride", you immediately lunged toward the bride. All those gym class training paid off! Basically, this and that until the ghost inflated.
And instead of Rook ordering you and Epel around, you took the steering wheel before anyone could. "Move yer' ass you glorified wood logs! Move move move!"
The lucky person is the person who gets to feel you dragging them. Absolute win!
--
"Urgh, I'm so gonna have phasmophobia now." Idia rolled his eyes as the ghosts departed but to be honest? He was happy to see you barging into the cafeteria like a knight in shining armor for him! (It was mostly the others fighting lol)
Idia was taken by surprise the moment your hand smacked his back. "Would you look at it, the star of the show, a handsome groom adorned in black! You look positively breathtaking, senior Idia."
"Eep-! Oh no, they have graced me with their words that are enough to deafen me! What should I do? How should I show them just how grateful I am to be even considered by them???"
"What did you say? I couldn't hear you really well." "Well, brother said that-" "N-n-no! Nothing! I uh... am thankful... for your assistance." He answered bashfully, his hair tip turned into a shade of pink.
"Now now potato, it's time to change, wearing that must have been uncomfortable right?" Vil immediately pulled you away from the pink introvert. "No...? Neige said that it's meant to be comfortable and it's true!" "Well, we have something even wayyyy more comfortable for you, shrimpy! Come on now, let's take it off and dress you up in something else!"
--
Lilia was leading everyone with a basket of something, a speaker in one hand and Neige's suit in the other hand, "Hey you RSA whippersnappers! Get down!"
The head mage was coincidentally away that day and it allowed the NRC students to lead a protest in front of the academy's gate.
Lilia threw the white suit onto the ground while Leona whistled, signaling Rook to shoot an arrow of fire toward it like an Olympic grand opening. (What a duo.)
"Yeah! Eat this you good for nothing!" Cater and Ruggie immediately took out the pie from Lilia's basket and threw it right onto the students' face. Kalim was generous enough to sponsor lots of baking materials for Lilia with Jamil assisting with the baking. It was badly burnt but still hard as a rock.
Cheny'a was careful enough to avoid Trey and Riddle while Vil was feeling rather generous in feeding Neige~ Oh, and Malleus is always bullseye in his shots, hitting everyone down in no time. He was pretty pissed (sulking) that he was not invited to join your fun. Silver was not being merciful too, he didn't fall asleep at all during this whole thing!.
Rollo was feeling rather grateful but also sad that you did not come to him to ask for his help :( And Crowley just watched everything from the sidelines while praying that nothing bad will be sent to him after this. Well, he's happy with how bright his students are.
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Hi!! I really love your writting🥰 i would like to request for the self-aware au, Reader hiding behind them after being chased by some particularly pushy NPCs with Rook, Trey, and Jack please❤️
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, description of violence, blood, obsession, stalking
Trey Clover/Jack Howl/Rook Hunt-Hiding behind them
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Ah, what a nice day. In fact, it is perfect for trying out that recipe with that dough that needed to rest for a while
Or rather, that was his plan for the day until he suddenly heard two pairs of footsteps rushing into the dorm kitchen
And no, it was not the kind of footsteps that spoke of joy like the ones of his siblings did. from time to time, it sounded panicked
Just a second later you entered the kitchen with an octavinelle student, the latter one trying to catch up to you
Before the baker could figure out what was going on, you were suddenly behind him, using his body as a shield
Oh… oh!
Was this guy harassing you?
How dare he? How dare-
Deep breaths. Very deep breaths - would be something he would have said to himself if he wasn't this angry
By some miracle, he was able to hold himself together
He was this close to loose his reputation as "that nice hat wearing baker"
A strict look towards the student and you were finally alone with him
For you the whole thing was over but for that student?
Suddenly the poor lad fell ill, claiming that he had stomach problems
Heck, he couldn't even keep his food down
Such a shame... Trey surely hoped he would survive
Who else could he secretly gift those cakes? You? Oh no... It's just that he experiments with some new recipes...
Ignore that bottle in the cupboard
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Jack is someone who keeps his friends very close and is not afraid to stand up for them
Only that he saw you as someone more precious than a friend
So when he saw you running away from a student and slipping behind him he saw the world just a tiny bit tinted red
The young wolf beastman isn't someone who uses violence just because he can do or feel like using it
(Honestly, at this point he is more like your little dog than some fearsome wolf)
Just because he didn't turn the student into very biological and mushy fertiliser for the flowers then and there doesn't mean he was calm though
Grabbing the not so nice company of yours, he told you to not worry and leave your little problem to him
Ah yes, Jack Howl, that kind acquaintance of yours
How nice of him
But you know, there are also tales about wolves acting as if they are kind just to devour you
Of course Jack didn't do that
Does not mean that things went as peaceful as you thought they did after you left
Jack usually keeps his instincts under control but on that evening he had to cut his nails very short and scrub his hands
Anyone would be horrified after the sensation of calcium breaking under their hand, splintering like old, dried out wood under a saw
He should feel guilty but... it was hard to do so
Which brings us back to a sink being used by a certain beastman
Geez, some things are so hard to get off of skin once it dries, wouldn't you agree?
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First of all, it's a wonder the hunter wasn't watching you from a tree (or something like that... who knew bushes could walk in this world)
If he had he would have immediately revealed himself by slithering in between you and that oh so foolish first year
But alas, apparently a miracle happened and this time it was you seeking out him
When Rook heart the certain sound of your shoes hitting the ground he was swivelling around, a poem about his devotion towards you already on his tongue...
And them you hid behind his arm curtains (you know, their dorm uniforms sleves)
Did hiw beloved Overseer, perfection and liberatir in person finally choose him as their most favorite- no? Ok that's cool too
If this was any other situation he would have started a speech in his wannabe French, stating how short he was by your rejection
But right now he had to deal with your little stalker (don't try to act all innocent, Rook, you did the same many more times than they ever could without being noticed)
Trying to calm you down the hunter brought you to Pomfiore
And nothing weir happened
No I am not joking, Rook was his usual normal self (if we want to call at best flirtatious remarks and at worst frantic devoted ramblings normal)
From then on you were much closer to the hunter
Especially after a body was found
And oh, how grateful Rook was for not having the time to get rid of the body on that day
Of course, he had noticed how ce fou followed you two to the dorm
How trusting you were when he told you that he wanted to get you two something to drink...
And there the parasite still was, lingering around the entrance of his dorm
The only regret Rook had was finishing his job so quickly
It was always such a bore whenever his prey wouldn't squirm
Well, at least you were now close to him
Just be careful, the hunter was also back then the one bringing her highness a false heart. Who knows how much he would lie to get you all to himself?
Uh and… maybe don't open that box he has in his room in a cooler. He told you he keeps some sort of trophy in there and I think that is all we need to know
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dotster001 · 6 months
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When You Escape Him...
Summary: Yandere Heartslaybul boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you years later.
CW: Yandere, baby trapping through adoption, kidnapping, allusions to past abuse, drugging, injury to reader (Cater's part), manipulation
Savanaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff
Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.
"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."
You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.
Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own. 
And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.
In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.
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Your son's hair was as red as his "father's". He was the spitting image of him. He was only five,  yet the resemblance was so strong, there were moments where you would be filled with terror. But then you'd see your eyes staring back at you, and you'd calm down.
Despite the resemblance, he was a sweet, innocent thing. You didn't even think he was capable of anger. So easy going. So mellow. Sevens, you loved your boy.
But that sweet nature could cause trouble sometimes.
You were scrolling through your phone, trying to find an odd job so that you could pay the rent. Sunset Savannah rent was low, but still. When you were trying to stay off the grid, and moved every couple months, money was hard to come by.
Your son entered the room, smiling brightly.
"There's a man at the door who wants to talk to you. He says it's important."
"Baby, I told you not to open the door without me. It's dangerous." And also inconvenient. You'd rather your landlord not know you were home.
"I'm sorry," his lower lip quivered, and you quickly wrapped him in a hug.
"It's alright, love, just don't do it again. Stay here, I'll go talk to him."
You left him on the sofa. And went to the door that your son had left open. You put on a strained smile, and prepared to greet your landlord.
"Sorry for the wait-" you cut yourself off as icy terror filled your veins. Your eyes met Riddles, and you prepared for the worst. The shouting. The beheading. And if he was in his worst mood, his staff would come into play. Which, considering you'd escaped him for five years, he was definitely in a worse mood.
You'd been so careful! Had you gotten sloppy? Complacent? You didn't think you had. You knew Riddle had the money to pursue you, but you had hoped that since you had escaped the country, you would be past his sphere of influence.
You continued to stare, gritting your teeth for what was to come, but you were immediately shocked as he released a sob, and wrapped his arms around you, his tears soaking your shirt.
"I thought I'd lost you forever," he whispered, his grip tightening so much that you thought he was trying to break your ribs.
"Please don't cry, it's okay!" 
Oh, your sweet boy. Your poor sweet baby boy.
Riddle pulled away, and crouched to your son's level.
"I'm your father."
Your son's eyes widened. You'd tried to make the idea of two parents a foreign concept, but children had a way of talking. So the idea that he had a second parent, who came for him, made his eyes sparkle in delight.
Riddle scooped him up in his arms, and turned to go.
"Let's go home," he whispered, and the final piece of hope you'd been sustaining finally died.
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You'd gotten forgetful. 
A large family like the Clover's, all of whom had chocolate centers, would have a large network of acquaintance's.
Even out here, in the middle of the countryside, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility.
As you were realizing now. All it would take was one person to recognize the "oldest Clover's missing spouse" and then it would be over. 
And your son…he looked like a Clover, even if he wasn't one biologically. One peek at him, it would be over, again.
As you realized now that you'd clearly fallen into a trap.
Your new neighbor had invited you and your son for tea. And you were so tired. So tired of running, of not having roots, that you had agreed. What could go wrong with a tea party?
Everything.
You entered the room, and there he was, already seated at the table. Giving you a very disappointed look.
"Thank you, Meredith. Can we have a moment alone?"
Your son wasn't old. But a ten year old like him was smart enough to see the resemblance between himself and the man before him. Even if it was a coincidence.
You had intended to tell him the truth about his "father" in a year or two.
But now he'd never believe you. With the warm smile on Trey's face as he opened his arms, your son would never believe the relationship was built on manipulation and perfectly hidden drugs. Someone with a smile as warm as Trey's would never do anything like that.
Your son ran into his arms, happily explaining about how happy he was to finally meet "daddy".
Meanwhile, Trey stared at you, his eyes cold as he held your son tighter. 
"Y/N," he finally said, his voice firm in the way that told you he was out of patience. "Drink your tea."
You stared at the pretty porcelain cup that sat waiting on the table. You had guesses of what would happen if you drank it. It would all be over. Ten years of hiding for nothing. But he had your son. It wasn't like you could go anywhere.
Your feet felt like they were weighed down with concrete blocks as you walked over to the cup, sat, and brought it to your lips with trembling fingers.
The black invading your vision was almost immediate, and you heard Trey explaining to your son, "An evil man stole you both from me. Their medicine will make them sleepy, but when they wake up we can finally be a family."
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You didn't even have a phone. You changed your hair every few months. You wore a mask in public. Because you knew the second a photo of you made its way onto the internet, it would be over.
Your son had wanted a phone when he was about ten. And you'd been able to push it off until he reached thirteen, when you'd say him down and told him about the man who wanted to be his father. 
He was young, but when he heard how this man hurt you, and took you away from the people you loved, he understood quickly. 
Your boy was smart. And he was a responsible kid. So he never asked for a phone again.
He was fifteen  now. He was a smart boy, and very protective over you. He always joked that if he and Cater were ever in the same room, he'd punch him in the stomach. 
The two of you were at the store, getting groceries. You saw a flash of ginger hair out of the corner of your eye, but told yourself it was just your son's hair. The second and third ginger flashes were harder to ignore.
You shared a look with your son, and made a rush to the exit.
...Unfortunately, running straight into a crowd of ginger hair. Multiple Caters pinned you both down, pressing rags to your mouths, making you sleep.
When you woke up, you found yourself tied to a chair in a dark room.
"You're up."
His voice was far more bitter than you were used to, but you'd recognize it anywhere.
Cater stood from the corner he was seated in, and made his way over to you. A loud crack filled the room, and you didn't quite realize what had happened until your cheek began to sting, and you met his furious eyes as he shook with rage.
No matter what was wrong with your relationship, he had never laid a hand on you.  
"You promised me!" He screamed. "You promised I wouldn't have to be alone anymore!"
Another crack filled the room, and your cheek began to feel numb.
"We were supposed to be a family, Y/N!  The three of us, together! And you turned him against me!"
He raised his hand to slap you again, but froze with a sob. He collapsed burying his face in your lap as he sobbed. 
"Why? Why do you both hate me? Am I not good enough?" He cried, his voice cracking and choking as he spoke. "I'll be better! I'll be whoever you need me to be!"
You could only imagine how the reunion with your son had gone if he was like this already. You hoped he was behaving, so the both of you could reunite and figure out how to escape.
But if the multiple pairs of emerald eyes watching Cater sob in your lap were anything to go by, you were never going to be alone ever again.
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Once you'd crossed the border of the country, you hadn't expected to ever run into Ace again. It wasn't that he was poor, per say, it was just that he wouldn't have the means to search for you forever. Private investigators were expensive. And it wasn't like he actually cared. 
At least that's how it felt. After one day of having your son, he admitted he was already bored, he just wanted to tie you to him. And he had told you every day of your relationship that he you were only together because he felt bad that you would never have anyone else who cares about you.
The longer you were away from him, the more your brain cleared, the more you realized that he probably did care. Quite a lot. But it was the tactic he used to make you dependent on him.
You were embarrassed by how well it had worked….
Your son was college aged now. He had received an invitation to NRC, but had turned it down in favor of protecting you. You were so grateful, and had worked with a friend who knew your situation to get him into a university without being able to tie it back to you.
You currently lived alone in your apartment. This evening, you were reading a book that your son had recommended, as you ate a basic dinner. There was a knock on the door, and you gently put your bookmark in.
You opened the door to three officers…one of them you unfortunately recognized.
"Deuce," you pleaded, and he looked everywhere but you.
"I'm sorry Y/N, I really am," he cleared his throat, and in his official voice. "Y/N Trappola. You have been missing for nineteen years. You must come with me for questioning."
There would be no questioning. He'd take you back, and drop you off with Ace. The wording was just in case one of your neighbors came to see what was going on.
The trip was long. And Deuce had tried to get you to tell him where your boy was. A sign that Ace actually cares, despite his cruel words. 
He'd eventually dug through your phone, and figured out who he was based on your messages back and forth. He'd called him, and given him an address to come meet you at.
"Remember when you were my friend too?" You spat at Deuce. It hurt him, you could tell, but you wanted it to hurt as much as you would inevitably hurt once you were back with Ace.
You happened to both arrive at the house at the same time. Your son looked between you and, at least to him, the unknown officer, but kept his mouth shut. 
The three of you walked up to the door together in silence. Deuce knocked on the door, and it was only a moment before he opened it.
He laughed hysterically. "Oh seven, you really found them! I can't believe you actually did it!"
He grinned at your son.
"Hah! You look just like your old man."
Your son growled. "You're not my old man."
"Hee hee, you're feisty like me too!" Ace grinned. Then he turned to you, affecting a look that was saying 'I'm not mad just disappointed'.
"Y/N," he said, his tone a threat in itself. "I'm sure you know how upset I am with you. How are you gonna make it up to me?"
Your son pulled his pen, but Ace was faster, throwing a painless stun spell at him.
He shook his head in mock disappointment.
"You really raised him all wrong, didn't you Y/N? Oh well, I guess I don't mind fixing both of you."
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You'd thought once you crossed the border, you'd be safe. You hadn't realized that Deuce would have made friends in his time as an officer, and could use those connections to find you.
To your credit, you'd made it awhile before his investigator colleague had found the two of you.
But you'd hoped you could hide forever. Five years felt like nothing.
You'd paid your neighbor to watch your son while you went out for groceries, and were startled to see her not with him.
"Hm? Oh, his father relieved me of duty," she laughed, until she saw the distress on your face.
"Y/N?" 
You ran to your apartment, practically busting the door down. You found Deuce sitting with your sleeping son, staring at him as though he would disappear if he looked away.
"Hey Y/N," he hummed, still not looking at you. "What did I do wrong?"
The question floored you. It was on brand. He never knew what he was doing wrong with your relationship. Which made it easy for you to forgive him early on. But you couldn't ignore how he was hurting you forever.
"Deuce. Give him to me."
You slowly approached him like you'd approach a wild dog.
"Was it something I said?" He looked up at you with heartbroken eyes. "I didn't mean to. I promise I'll be better."
He stood up, and approached you.
"Come home, Y/N. We can start over."
You couldn't risk triggering his delinquent mode while he was holding your sleeping son. And it wasn't like you could hide again, not without leaving the sleeping angel behind.
And you didn't doubt that this time he'd do whatever was in his power to catch you if you ran.
"Give me my son," you whispered.
"Our son," he said firmly, and you froze, breathing deeply to try and calm him down.
"Our son," you repeated softly. You held out your hands, and he scrutinized you with a cold look.
"No. I'll hold on to him," he said, shifting away from you. "I just can't trust you anymore."
Normally, you'd have snapped at him that you could never trust him. But he had the advantage.
"Please, Deucey," you simpered, hoping his affection for you could still cloud his judgment.
"I'll think about it when we get home," he said with a soft smile. He stood up, and walked over to you, nuzzling your noses together. 
"C'mon,Y/N, let's go home," he calmly walked out with your son in his arms. What else could you do but follow?
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Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Meg! Reader (Meg from Disneys Hercules) with the twst boys? Just her being sassy and refusing them because of how her last relationship ended.
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Megara Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Burned by love before and quick with a comeback, your beauty and affection is tauntingly out of reach of all. But don’t forget you’re poor soul isn’t yours anymore however it is the property of the lord of the Underworld…who in this world apparently no longer exists. It makes for an awkward voice in your ear.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Kidding? Babe, I’m Hades the one and only and I’m not going anywhere.”
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Idia Shroud
Somehow keeps ending up in the most lucky leecher situations with you
Its almost like some ancient deity is stepping in to give him some ‘extra help’
“I didn’t call for a summons-assists! Please!”
He’ll whine about it 
But he loves it more than anything
When is he going to get a chance to crop a feel 
Or somehow be trapped in a tight closet with you
Someone must be smiling down more like up at on him
Maybe that’s who he can thank for those rival npc’s dying in odd monster attacks
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Trey Clover
“Hey (Y/n), what are you doing here?”
“What’s it matter to you, hotshot?”
“Well I just wanted to check in on you, see what you thought of this cake I’ve made.”
He always appears out of nowhere 
Foiling whatever plans Hades has you going on
You’re captor seems to like him though
Especially after that one flirt’s untimely end with food poisoning
“I like the guy! Burns like an invisible fire!”
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pinkie-pop · 8 months
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"We've Seen The Devil—He Was Hiding In The Mirror."
Part I Part II
Inspired by @shiny-jr's "I didn't ask to be isekaied" and "We just got a letter, wonder where it's from" series.
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Twisted Wonderland Various x Reader, Self-Aware AU, Yandere TWST
Synopsis: They swore to love you. Oh, how far they've fallen. No matter, though. For that oath is not theirs alone.
Word count: 3k
Includes: Nightmares, PTSD, maggots and insects (briefly), obsession, trauma, panic attacks
"You are no savior—nor purpose nor God. You are damnation—a phony and fraud."
--------------
Already having retreated to the relative safety of Ramshackle dorm, you get to the work of stripping your layers and washing yourself of the night’s events. The clothes you came in are marred in dirt and blood. Just looking at them has you feeling overwhelmed, and so, rather than try to wash a week's worth of torment from the garments, you opt for the much simpler approach of throwing them into the fireplace and borrowing nightwear from Yuu's dresser.
Approximately three hours have passed since it ended, and the thunderstorms have only gotten worse. You suppose he must still be upset; it seems that not even his beloved retainers could keep him in check. The never ending thunder has long since lost its terror, and as the adrenaline of the night begins to wear off, you find yourself lounging on the couch, less and less inclined to use your remaining energy to clean out your wounds. Maybe you'll just ask Grim to cauterize them later… 
There's nothing interesting about the ceiling you are staring at so intently, and so you let your eyes glaze over as your mind drifts off to greener pastures you'll never have the chance to visit. 
It's the middle of spring: your clothes are light and airy, the gentle wind causing them to flow around you like a flower in bloom. You have spent the day picking apples from an orchid, and you are now going to have a picnic in a nearby meadow. You descend down the hill in woven sandals, careful not to spill the contents of your basket. A gust of wind almost knocks the straw hat from your head, but the air is cool and refreshing.
Upon reaching the base of the hill, you take a moment to admire the world around you. The sun is warm upon your skin, but the gentle breeze keeps the heat at bay. Leaves and blossoms fall from the sky, mingling with the blooms of the flowers surrounding the area. A butterfly flutters by your nose in greeting, then drifts off to the next new thing. You cannot see the birds, but you can hear their songs as you pass through, looking for the perfect spot to place your blanket.
You find that spot in the middle of the field. It is surrounded by flowers, but not so much so that you would risk crushing them with your blanket. You set down your basket and open it up, careful to pick out the best-looking apple from earlier. You close your eyes and take a bite…
…But it rots the second you bite into it. Maggots gush from the cavity and into your mouth, wriggling and writhing under your tongue. Millipedes and roaches crawl all over you. Worms invade your senses. Ants burrow beneath your skin. They creep and crawl, slithering and squirming, and—
Your eyes shoot open, and the sensation is gone. 
Breathing out a sigh of relief, the apple falls from your hand and rolls away. You collapse on your back and attempt to refocus your attention on the sky above you. There’s something interesting about the clouds today.
The first looks like a dove flapping its wings, 
The second resembles a woman dozing off. 
That one is almost a musical note, and that one looks like a smile. And—no, that isn’t quite right. 
It is far more similar to a smirk. 
The mouth widens as storm clouds gather and swirl around you. Dancing around in a cruel ballet. Thunder cracks in the distance as acidic rain hits and sears through your skin. The flowers turn to gravestones, and the songbirds begin to scream in human voices. Thorny vines reach up and take hold of your limbs, cutting through your flesh and bones as if they were made of nothing more than paper. 
You are already halfway to being buried alive when you realize you’re being pulled in. Desperately, you try to claw your way out of the soil that threatens to swallow you into its suffocating embrace, but it's of no use. It isn’t long before you can no longer fight back. It isn’t long before you—
You bolt upwards, clasping your chest as you heave and gasp for air. Your nightwear is drenched in a cold sweat, but you can't find it in yourself to care. Your whole body feels as if it's on fire, and your whole body heaves with each labored breath. You leap off the couch, nearly tripping on the blanket you didn't know you had, only for a fit of nausea to throw you off balance and cause your fall regardless.
Of course, as if the rest wasn’t enough, sickness has also decided to take its turn in making you miserable. You reach a hand to your forehead, checking for fever. Unfortunately, your entire body is burning up, making this a rather ineffective method. You let your hand drop to your side and take a moment to orientate yourself.
Gathering the thin blanket you had nearly tripped on earlier, you wrap it around your shoulders like a shawl and step into the kitchen. You find a handtowel near the sink and run it under cool water, then place it on your forehead, hoping that your fever will start to break soon. Sighing, you look around the kitchen as it occurs to you that you’ve never been here before. The area wasn’t accessible in-game, and you were too exhausted to look around when you first arrived. The floors are clean, the dishes are all tucked away in their cabinets. 
Oddly, however, was the fridge, which, save for tuna and water, was entirely devoid of the contents one would expect a fridge to have. There were other peculiarities, too. Despite supposedly having been abandoned for decades, the dorm was in surprisingly good shape. Nothing seemed to be falling apart, and you were unable to spot even a single crack in the walls or floorboards. 
It was then that you remembered Ignihyde’s chapter starts with Ramshackle’s destruction and ends with its renovation, and begin to feel a little silly. Although, the renovations still do little to explain the emptiness of the refrigerator.
Light from a nearby window hits your eye, and you turn to see that the clouds have cleared, making room for the moon’s rays. It is then that you realize that the weather has finally cleared up. Without rain or thunder to interrupt your sleep, you should be able to drift back off with relative ease. Provided, of course, that the nightmares don’t wake you up first. 
Feeling a little better, you head back to sleep. 
———
The water is cold enough to give you a brain freeze, but luckily (or rather, quite unluckily), your migraine is already so painful that you hardly notice. Even after rifling through every cabinet you could find, you're unable to spot anything resembling medication. You're halfway to trying your luck with a suspicious potion you found hidden in a kitchen cupboard when a voice from the foyer steals your attention.
"Mrah! Wake up already!" You poke your head out from behind a wall and peer into the living room, where Grim is excitedly shaking a pile of blankets. "C'mon, get up already!"
"Grim…?"
"MYAH!" You flinch as Grim leaps into the air, violently swerving his head around in—you assume—frantic search for the source of the disturbance. Upon spotting you, Grim visibly relaxes before tensing up once again and puffing out his chest. "Jeez, don't scare me like that."
"Could you not yell? I have a bad headache," you mutter, unwilling to raise your voice higher than a whisper. Grim, however—perhaps due to his feline features—, has no problem in hearing you and quickly offers a hushed apology. When he does, you nod at him to continue on with whatever he had wanted to tell you earlier. 
"Thought I’d take ya on a tour of the place. Y’know, since you passed out before gettin'ta see anything yesterday n’ all." You suppose you don't have anything better to do. Maybe one of the rooms will have Aspirin. 
"Alright, lead the way," you say, and Grim, perhaps already forgetting that you are unwell, quickly scampers away. It takes you a moment to catch up to him. 
"This is the bedroom,” he says. ”Honestly, I can't believe ya fell asleep on the couch when you could've come here instead." Your gaze falls over to the bed, where someone appears to already be sleeping on it. "Oh, that's just Yuu. Been like that since before you arrived. No one knows what's wrong with it. We can just move it later." 
"Do you think they'll wake up soon?" 
"What's it matter?" Your surprise must show on your face because Grim seems to see it as a prompt to continue. "I mean, you're already here, aren't you? Whaddaya need Yuu for?"
"Isn't Yuu important to you? They've been with you since day one…" 
"You've been with me since day one. Yuu's just our henchhuman." You frown. "C'mon, it's not a big deal. Yuu isn't even human." Well, that would explain the oddities you noticed earlier. Even so, the cold indifference in his eyes is chilling. Yuu was supposed to be like family to Grim. How could things have turned out like this?
Perhaps sensing your discomfort, Grim changes the subject. "C'mon, I'll show you the other rooms." 
———
"This is the guest room ya worked on with that hammer. Not that you can tell. After Yuu shut down, everyone went crazy and destroyed the place. Normally they’d be trippin’ over themselves ta’ fix it, but…” Grim trailed off, leaving you to fill in the blanks yourself. As your gaze travels across the room, taking in all the broken furniture, torn wallpaper, and scattered stickers, something pops out at you. Something you don’t recognize. 
"What's that over there?" 
“Hm? Oh, those’re offerings.”
 Well, that certainly raises more questions than it answers. 
“For you, duh,” Grim flicks his tail, “Most of the stuff’s enchanted, so it didn’t break even when they tore the place up.” One gift catches your eye. A box of bottles in varying colors and sizes, each with a small label pressed onto their side.
“Those’re from Kalim. He brought a ton after Yuu got sick. Apparently, he bought even more than that, but Jamil stopped him before he could–” You don’t bother listening to the rest of his explanation and instead get right on to skimming through the bottles’ labels. If they’re for Yuu, then surely they aren’t poisoned. After all, Yuu is important to them. You would know that better than anyone.
Upon finding the bottle that matches your ailments, you pop it open and empty the contents into your stomach. It’s horribly bitter, but your headache vanishes on the spot. Nearly completely rejuvenated, you grab a piece of hard candy from a nearby stack of food offerings to rid your mouth of the taste.
Ah, if only potions existed back in your world, too. How very convenient they are. Grim, however, does not seem to share your sentiment. “Myah! At least read the label before ya’ drink something like that! Ya barely glanced at the thing before chugging it. Yer real reckless, ya’ know that?”
“I’m sure it’s fine. I'll even read it out loud, okay? It says…” You begin reading the label description, but stop when you get to the recommended dosage. "Ah."
"Huh? Why'd you stop?" 
"I think I may have taken too much…" You say, a bit sheepishly. "It's probably fine, though." Grim appears entirely unconvinced. You don’t blame him for it. You yourself are not entirely convinced. But it was merely a potion, and you had, earlier, survived being hit by lightning. A potion would not be your downfall. You will be fine.
“There are other rooms you wanted to show me, right? Let’s go see them now. I promise to tell you if I start feeling ill.”
“Alright.” Grim’s worry seems to be quelled, at least somewhat. That is good, you think. Although your own worry still sits in the back of your head. Surely, you will be fine.
Yes, you will be fine. And so, you go to see the other rooms.
"Betcha didn't see this before, right?" He was right. You never saw—never even heard of—Ramshackle's library. It's an impressive room, albeit a bit old. The renovations must have skipped this room, though you’re not sure why.
“Do you like to read, Grim?” “Me? No way. Yuu seemed’ta really like this place, though. So I figured maybe you would, too.” 
You nod, a sort of nostalgia washing over you as you browse through the titles. “I think I’ll stay here for a while,” you tell Grim. 
“Myah, just don’t take too long, okay?” You smile at him, and he leaves. 
And just like that, you are alone. It takes a moment for the realization to sink in on you: you are alone. And it is by your own doing, no less. What a terrifying lapse in judgment! What an egregious oversight! It was daylight, now. Nearly evening, but not night. No, it would be many more hours until night. It was daytime, early afternoon, and you were alone. Your shadows give away your location. The light betrays your every move. If the bell were to ring now, if someone were to walk past you in the hall. 
Dear Gods, if someone were to recognize you—
No, now is not the time to panic. You have made it this far. All the way to the library. You have made it to the library, and it is daytime. The bell has not yet rung, but it will soon. You must hide. You must keep eyes on all routes of entry and escape. You must find a weapon. 
You don’t even realize that you are shaking. You don’t even realize that you are cowering—that you are backing away. You knock into a bookshelf. It is an old bookshelf. Unsturdy. It is an old, unsturdy, bookshelf, and you have knocked into it. 
It falls. 
You fall. 
It all crashes down on top of you.
Books hit your head and body, edges digging into your skin. The books fall and hit you, and you don’t know what has become of the shelf they were resting on. Has it fallen with you, or has it remained strong? Was it really old and unsturdy? Or was that simply your impression? You suppose it doesn’t matter. The books fall all the same. 
Your eyes fall shut. 
———
Your eyes flutter open. Good morning, world. 
“Good morning, Grim.” 
“It’s 6 PM,” he says.
“Good evening, Grim.” 
“Right…”Grim pauses. “Hey, are you feelin’ alright? After ya drank that potion, ya sorta just…passed out. I read the bottle, and it said drowsiness was a side effect, but you were out for hours. I was startinta get real worried, y’know?” You hum, and go to rub the sleepiness from your eyes. When you do, a book is knocked over the side of the bed and falls to the floor. “Huh? Hey, where’d ya get that from?”
“Hm? Oh, I must have picked it up at the library, somehow.” “The library?” “Yeah, the one you showed me earlier.” Grim places a paw on your forehead as if checking for fever. Finding nothing, he pulls back to look at you. 
“We don’t have a library.” Ah.
Well, isn’t that something? 
“I must be remembering wrong,” you say. You are not nearly as on-edge as you perhaps should be. In fact, you are entirely unconcerned. In your precious panic, had you exhausted all your energy? Or was it something else? The potion that you drank was certainly suspicious. You doubt it could be poison, but that does little to rid it of doubt. It was your only clue as of now, though. That, and the book. Grim appears to be saying something to you, but all you hear is bubbles. 
Bubbles flow from his mouth and replace his words. Bubbles float up to your ears and encase them, isolating you in their silence. Bubbles flood your vision and senses. Your head hits a bubble as you fall down onto the mattress, and bubbles fall into your eyes as they shut a final time. 
——— 
Your eyes snap open. Air fills your lungs and darkness fills your vision. 
Your head hurts, but you feel better. You are no longer sleepy-eyed and foggy-minded. You are awake and sober. 
There’s a book by your side. You can see it clearly, despite the dark (You’ve grown rather used to the dark this past week, you find comfort in it). It’s the same book you had earlier, when you had first woken up. Had you even woken up at all? Perhaps it was all a dream.
Regardless, the book, at least, is not a dream. This book is very much real, as is this Grim, who is curled up and snoozing by your feet. You think that Yuu is real, too. Although you cannot see them. You do not know where they have gone, and you do not think they have woken up. Perhaps Yuu was not real, after all. Perhaps someone has simply moved them.
The book is real. And it is addressed to you. 
Yes, you.
Not Yuu, nor ‘The Player’, but you. 
Your name, your actual name, was written on the cover. It is unnerving to see your own name after so long. You are not sure who has written this book, but you think you can guess. 
There is only one person, after all, who has access to it.
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del-thetiredwriter · 11 months
Text
Mafia au/ Good Luck while running away from the mafia part 1
Intro , part 0.5 , part 2 , part 3
Notes: Guess what I’m back . To be honest I didn’t quite like it but anyway I’m posting it and I can’t write fight scenes ( ̄▽ ̄;). It’s so exhausting.
Tags: @loivre , @randomlyappearingartist , @serenity-loves-red , @hasty-desert , @moonlight-nightwing , @hrhqueenfox , @oceanside-pixie
Warning: cursing, fighting, blood, shooting, Yandere stuff…
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“Riddle-san, what are you doing, sir?”
At the question, Riddle briefly lifted his eyes from the documents and looked at you.
“I was just wondering about a thing.” He replied.
You looked around at the files arranged in order. All of them had one thing in common: betrayal, crime, wrong, etc. against the organizations punishments .
“I was really curious about what caught Riddle-san's attention. What could possibly make you go through even the files from the old manager Trein-sensei's time?"
Riddle smiled.
"Don't worry, you'll find out soon." said Riddle.
You were suddenly startled by the sound of footsteps. Apparently you fell asleep. You're not normally someone who sleeps a lot, but for the past two weeks you haven't been able to sleep properly.
After leaving the organization or rather escaping, you temporarily settled in a remote coastal city where you hoped they'd find you a little late. With a little help, you changed your identity, your phone line, everything. You've removed everything that indicates Y/n L/n.
Life here was calmer compared to your old life. You wished you could stay here forever. But you knew they would find you eventually. You lived ,one night in your sleep afraid that they would find you at your most vulnerable moment.
You were currently working in a cafe. Although it may seem a little illogical, working at the cafe, which was open until midnight, was actually a little better for you. The more people around you, the easier it is to avoid them.
"Yo!" You turned the way you came. Your colleague Alex was glaring at you with his arms folded.
“Yuu, what are you doing in the camera room again, are you skipping work again?”
'Yuu' is your new identity that you created to make it harder for them to find you while running away. You still had a hard time getting used to the name.
“No, Alex. I just- "
"Anyway, I'm going downstairs. You have the upstairs okay?"
You nodded and Alex left the room. You looked at the clock, it was 10:00 pm. You stretched yourself and yawned. Two more hours until the end of the shift.
As you were about to get up, your eyes were caught by the cameras. Your eyes widened in panic at what you saw. You watched three people enter the cafe. You'll recognize those red hair, those grins, those faces wherever you see them. Heartslabyul found you. No, they all found you. You clenched your teeth, your time was limited.
The reason you spent most of your time in the camera room was because you could see everything from here. You quickly grabbed your gun from the locked drawer and loaded it. Deuce and Cater took a table downstairs near the front exit. Ace was walking up the stairs.
You took a deep breath. You should have thought fast. You should have gotten out of here . But for that you had to go down the stairs first.
You went behind the door and waited. You waited for Ace to find you.
Look at the cameras. It was approaching. You gripped your gun tightly. And the door opened. You punched the poor boy in the face as the door opened.
“Agh-“ A bitter moan broke out from Ace.
Before he could draw his gun, you kicked him in the stomach and dropped it to the ground.
“Agh- it's been a long time and the first thing you do when you see me is attack me? Really Y/n.” Ace grinned . Clutching his nose, which was bleeding from your punch.
You muttered, "Bastard."
“Come on Y/n didn't you miss me? I missed you so much." He tried to punch you, but you avoided him. You both started to struggle. Ace might have been strong, but you were more experienced and stronger than him. You grabbed him by the head and knocked him to the ground. Before he could regain his balance, you took his tie and tied him with it.
“What am I going to miss about you, you sadistic bastard!”
You picked up the gun on the ground.
“What? Are you going to shoot me ?” Ace said in a tone you didn't like.
“You have to stop asking questions you know the answer to.”
At 11:00 pm, screams broke out in a cafe with the sound of 'bang' gunfire. Everyone in the cafe began to flee desperately, except for two people. The two men, one with red hair and the other with black hair, started to make their way to the upper floor of the cafe.
“Do you think who shot whom, hmm~” Cater asked the younger one.
As the two of them went upstairs, the power went out suddenly and the whole cafe was plunged into darkness.
“Looks like Y/n-chan won.” said Cater to himself.
“Let's separate . You stay here, Y/n has to use the stairs before they can get out of the cafe.” Cater instructed.
“Okay, sir.” said Deuce.
You held your breath under the table. You waited for Cater's footsteps to go away. You were the one who cut the electricity. Five minutes later the generator would start working . You should have gotten out of here by then. Finally, making sure that Cater was far enough away, you slowly came out from under the table. No matter how hard you tried not to make a sound, Deuce heard you.
“Y/n? Is this you ?"
Now that his eyes were accustomed to the dark, he could barely make out your silhouette. Everything happened so abruptly. You took a chair and hit Deuce with it. While he was stunned by the blow, you ran downstairs with your names and the electricity came back. Your five minutes were up.
When the lights were turned on, an unexpected sight was in front of you.
Riddle was sitting at a table eating strawberry pie as if nothing had happened.
“Ah, Y/n you finally came down. I was getting really bored waiting for you.” He said while taking a slice of the pie.
You pointed your gun at him. "Get out of my way if you don't-"
"It's been a long time since we've seen each other, Y/n, but will you put that gun down?" A familiar voice said as you turned around and saw Trey pointing his gun at you. As always, even in this state, he was smiling gently at you.
“Tch. What do you want ? Why are you here?" You asked questions that you know very well the answer to.
Riddle smiled.
“Y/n L/n you are posing a great danger to the organization right now. You also have cases of injuring my men. You understand what I'm trying to say, right?"
"Get out of my way or I'll shoot you."
Riddle laughed.
“You won’t t kill me, you can't. Just like we can't do to you. Now if you drop that gun, I'll do my best to mitigate your sentence."
This was clearly a lie. You grit your teeth. You smiled calmly and did as he said. You slowly put your gun down and raised your hands in the air.
“Well done, here it is. I wish you would always listen to my words like this. Now let's go back." said Riddle.
“Sorry Riddle but I won't be back!” You said and detonated the smoke bomb you were hiding. The area was suddenly covered with fog. You quickly walked out the front door through that mess and got into your car.
“Get them quick!” Riddle shouted.
You quickly drove away. There was no turning back anymore. The Game has started.
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merakiui · 2 months
Text
everything is going to be okay.
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yandere!trey clover x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, descriptions of unsettling imagery, derealization, implied drugging, descriptions of hyperdontia, descriptions of teeth falling out, non-graphic allusions to sexual assault, emotional manipulation, gaslighting note: 01110111011011110111010101101100011001000010000001101001001000000110110001101001011001010010000001110100011011110010000001111001011011110111010100111111
i. itchiness - the worst feeling in the world is knowing something is inside of you, and there’s nothing you can do to get it out.
A white rabbit blinks up at you with its beady, red eyes. Its nose twitches. Once. Twice. Thrice. A quiet breeze slithers through the field in which you currently stand, surrounded by lush greenery and colorful wildflowers. They sprawl endlessly, clawing at the horizon beyond with botanical fingers. You watch rainbows sway, dewy petals fluttering like butterfly wings beating against a cloudless, cerulean sky.
You take one step towards the rabbit and it takes off in a sprint, bounding through knee-high grass. You stagger after it, crushing flowers underfoot. Stems snap like spines, sturdy until smashed. You hear agony whispered in the wind: How could you? How could you? How could you?
Shrugging it off, you pursue the rabbit. The grass grows with every passing minute, thickening in abundance. It’s so tall it blocks your view of the sun, eclipsing your figure like a menacing shadow. You fight through it, your gaze pinned solely on the speck of white fur. Verdant blades brush your skin, soft like silk. Itchy like hair. Itchy like maggots wriggling in marrow.
Itchy.
You struggle through the infestation until, eventually, you burst through the grass. The other side is calmer here. When you glance back at the way you came, you find a wall of grass stretching up into the above. The wildflowers are nowhere to be seen, but you can hear them when you stick your head through the grass. They’re still weeping: Why? Why? Why? It’s not fair. We were so happy. You’ve stomped us out—ruined us. We’ll never grow back the same.
“You coming?”
You whirl at the sound of a familiar voice, scanning the field in search of him. Instead, the rabbit is just a few feet away. It tilts its head at you, ears pricked. You meet its scarlet stare.
Something tells you you’re better off waiting. There’s no point in chasing, but curiosity crawls into your cranium. You hurry ahead, single steps sliding into fast, frantic footfalls. The rabbit moves quickly, its little legs thumping against the ground. You run until your every breath squeezes your heart. Until your head is dizzy. Until you’re nauseous and panting.
You run all the way to the edge of a forest, the field falling away in patches, and you reach for the trees, fingers splayed. The rabbit is within your grasp.
You step with your right leg and crush a violet butterwort.
Pain shoots through your foot in a white-hot flash. The butterwort stabs through your sole, emerging from your flesh as if it’s simply a clay pot with soil for snuggling. You yank your leg away and roots are ripped from the ground with it, attached to the flower stuck in your foot. Warm blood trickles out. Green grass is stained rusty-red. It sweeps along your calf, a physical lullaby.
Itchy.
“Fuck,” you hiss, stumbling backwards. The root goes with you, an endless strand set deep into the ground. You tug, but the flower persists. It folds itself into a bow and wraps its petals around your foot in a parasitic hug. “Let go of me.”
At the edge of the forest, the rabbit remains. Watching. Waiting. Wondering.
You flop onto your side, breathing heavy and haggard. The pain is itchy. The blood is itchy. The flower is itchy. You grab at it with shaky fingers and attempt to pry it off. Trees tower overhead, bark bending forwards to loom like leering fiends. With all of your might, you yank the butterwort out. It comes free with a sickening snap, soil-speckled roots dragging through the hole in your foot.
Itchy.
Between the breeze and your devastated whimpers, you hear it—the withered wheezing of the earth beneath your body.
Suddenly, the trees have eyes. Suddenly, everything is alive.
Desperately, you stretch your arm towards the rabbit. It blinks at you. Once. Twice. Thrice. And then it turns and disappears into the forest beyond.
You roll over on your back just as more butterworts bloom from soil moistened with your blood. A garden germinates from flesh and bone.
You shut your eyes.
Itchy.
When you open them, you see a single blade of grass backdropped by a cumulus-spotted sky. He peers down at you, glasses glinting in the sunlight, and offers his hand.
“Nice day for a nap, isn’t it?” He smiles a boyish, lopsided grin.
You stare for another quiet second before closing your hand around his. “Trey…”
Right. Your friend, Trey, who offered to stay with you in the wake of…something. Something about companionship. Something about looking out for you during difficult times. Something about something. 
Was that it? What did he say again?
Words are a valuable thing for people like Trey. When strung together, they create stories and Trey is especially good at amazing others with sugared ambiguity.
You allow him to pull you up. When he moves to brush the grass clinging to your clothes, you jerk away. The two of you stare at each other for an abnormally long time.
A discordant note resounds within your head, a strangled cry from a pretty piano. The jarring crash of splintered glass. Looking at him now, in his green-and-white checkered jumper and boring, beige slacks, you feel…itchy. There’s a dull ache at the back of your throat. You think you might be coming down with a cold.
Spring is just starting to poke through the frost of winter. Even though today’s sunny and the weather is warmer than usual, there’s a frigid feeling in the air. A disconnect between seasons. That odd border between not-quite-winter and not-quite-spring.
“How long was I out for?”
Trey’s hand falls to his side. “Long enough to give the muffins time to cool.” He nods in the direction of the house, a quaint structure built at the edge of the forest. “I made your favorite.”
You brighten like candles lit in a birthday cake. Twenty of them, in fact, all arranged perfectly. It will take twenty more for you to overcome the tragedy of never having the chance to partake, for every slice was dragged onto the plate and devoured with haste. And all the while the flames flickered, burning wax down to tiny stumps.
Itchy.
Blueberry muffins are placed on a circular glass plate. The accompanying dome lid sits off to the side. You take one and turn it over in your hands. How does someone determine their favorite food? And when does that food stop becoming a preference? Memories attach themselves to everything: clothing, rooms, bodies. Even food. If something unsavory happens when indulging in a favorite, the memory soaks into the batter. The next time you encounter it, even if it’s in a dream, you avoid it. Not because the food has lost its flavor, but because the memory has corrupted the comfort of the gastronomic experience.
In a distant past, you think you liked blueberry muffins. Certainly at one point, right?
Still, you bring it to your lips and bite into spongy bliss.
Blood fills your mouth.
Trey’s initial placidity morphs into something disturbed. He moves to your side, to your aid, but you shove him away. The blueberry muffin lands on the table in a spoiled heap, crumbs scattering. You spit chunks of muffin into your palms. It feels like something’s lodged in your throat. A tiny porcelain hand pinching the skin of your esophagus in an unrelenting hold. A wad of something impossible to swallow. Like words or screams.
Crimson-tinged saliva dribbles past your lips. Lying in your hands, amidst bits of chewed muffin, is a sliver of skin.
“(Name)?”
Your name sounds wrong on his tongue.
“Hey, are you okay? Let me get you some water. Wait right there.”
Wrong. It’s wrong.
You stare at the flabby piece of skin. Your skin.
Trey returns with the aforementioned water. He pulls a chair out from the table. “Sit and have a drink. Not too fast. Slowly now.”
The rest of the muffin is swept away, destined for the rubbish bin. While you watch Trey clean up your mess, you sip at lukewarm water. Your tongue squirms in your mouth, searching for the space that’s now bleeding freely. You find it, almost like one finds the space where a missing tooth ought to be, and prod at it with your tongue. It’s raw and sensitive. Stinging slightly. You wince.
“Bit my cheek,” comes your reply when Trey walks over. He wipes his hands on a towel patterned with tulips. “Hurts.”
Trey frowns. Golden hues flick from the plate of muffins to your forlorn face. He lowers to his knees, peering up at you through his glasses. “Don’t eat so fast next time, all right? You could choke.”
“Tastes funny.”
“I can’t imagine it’s very appetizing. Blood and blueberry muffins… A crazy combo, yeah?”
“Yeah…”
He chuckles. “Well.” He runs his hand through his hair. It reminds you of the grass and trees outside. Of a summer that has long since passed. “Nothing like a little scare to liven the afternoon. How’re you feeling?”
You set your half-empty glass on the table. “Better. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. You wanna try another one? I promise the next one won’t have you biting your cheek.”
“I… I think I’m good. Thank you, though.”
“As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.” Trey smiles. “I’ll make something softer for dinner. Any requests for the chef?”
You think back on all of your favorites and choose something you wouldn’t mind losing. “Lentil soup.”
After tonight, you’ll never enjoy the taste of that dish again.
Maybe that’s okay. Soups are easy to eat. Easy to slip special sentiments in.
Soup is what becomes of your brain when your body is too itchy.
ii. incessant - static is buzzing in your ears. buzzing, buzzing, buzzing. fluffy like bumblebees. sharp as a sting.
The elusive rabbit is looking at you again, red eyes boring into the back of your skull. You glance over your shoulder at it. A little bow fashioned from blades of grass is fastened around its neck. It nods in a new direction, urging you to follow. For a moment, you stand there and wait. Deep down in some forgotten corner of your stomach, you know you’ll never be able to catch the rabbit.
So you fall into step as it hops off to its destination.
Hedges line the horizon, boasting roses and thorns. The rabbit leads you all the way to the entrance of the maze. A xylophone rattles. You step forward. Another hedge rises from the ground up to trap you inside. With the rabbit out of sight and no other way around, you trek onwards into the maze.
The frequency at which xylophone chimes are registered and translated in your mind are muffled. At best, they’re almost silenced. At worst, they are static—piercing and grating in your ears.
Amidst so much static, Trey’s voice has always remained at the same pitch. An immutable intonation, one that fills the clouds with buoyant assurances: Just relax. You’re all right. I’ve got you.
You don’t think you’ve ever heard him shout, but that makes sense. Grass only whistles and shivers in the breeze. It never screams. It’s soft and sweet—a wondrous embrace until it begins to feel itchy with time. Like a wool sweater. Like ants crawling in lines up your arms. Like cobwebs wrapped around your wrists.
The grass in your garden sounds more like static. Incessant, ear-splitting static. In your brain, bunching up like scribbles on paper, and falling in waterfalls from his mouth whenever he speaks.
It was static you heard when the grass cradled you in wispy tendrils.
Quiet at first, as if the world had been clicked off like a bad program on television, and then the static came seeping in. Rot was encroaching, grabbing at the rabbit and gutting it before your horrified eyes.
Somewhere within the maze, a jovial, uplifting song spills from a spinet. It puts you at ease, filling your soul with serenity.
Itchy dissonance. A rabbit split open, gooey innards tumbling free. Cotton fur tarnished. Lines running red.
Dead.
The spinet swells with rhythm. You’re walking yourself into corners, traveling in circles.
Incessant melodies, ringing in your ears like cicada shrieks.
The circle winds around and around. Where are you going? Hedges on either side, white roses blooming from comforting green. The deeper you delve, the darker they bloom. Mottled, petals wilting, white closes up and shrivels away.
Blotted black with tar, trailing in thick streaks.
Your feet pound against mossy meadows. You need to find the exit. It’s here and then there and then here again. It’s everywhere and then it’s nowhere. It’s here. Here. Here. Here. Here—
Now it’s there!
Static screeches. Blood trickles from your ears.
It hurts until it doesn’t. Until the static numbs everything and all that’s left is nothing. Blank and bitter, a wonderland set on mute.
The hedges breathe alongside you. It’s incessant, unintelligible static.
Frosting melts on cake. Pastels are sticky and spoiled. Candles droop.
A xylophone played in garbled glissando.
Quiet breaths. In and out. In and out. The grass whispers to you: “Hey, it’s fine. You trust me, right?”
In and out.
Out and in.
In and out.
Out. Out. Out. Incessant itchiness. Get it out.
Glass shatters. The rabbit’s heart, still beating faintly, is slit. 
That…didn’t just happen, did it?
It didn’t, right?
Grass is supposed to be soft and full of life when watered with love.
That didn’t just happen.
What happened?
The grass billows in a breeze. “You’re fine. I’ve got you.”
You’re not. You…are anything but fine.
What happened?
You run under an arch, past thinning hedges, over the threshold, and burst into the kitchen.
“Trey!”
He startles, almost dropping a bowl of cake batter. His glasses sit crooked on his face. It takes a moment for him to process your arrival. He sets the bowl on the countertop and turns fully to face you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His concern makes your skin prickle.
Itchy.
“Everything okay?”
Incessant.
“Why…” Your fingers curl around the doorframe. You gulp down a gasp. “Why are you here again?”
He gives you a weird look. “You said you needed my help—that you were having trouble getting up in the morning. Remember? Actually… Here. How about this? Do you want me to fix you a cup of chamomile? It’ll help with anxiety and insomnia.”
Your once rapid-moving world slows to a screeching halt. You said that? When? When did you say that? When the fuck did you say that?
“I…don’t remember saying that. Ever. I don’t think I invited you here either…”
Trey shakes his head, tutting softly. “I get it. It’s rough. I know.” He folds the spatula through the batter. Calmly. “But you’re exaggerating. I’m only here to help.”
Static. Incessant, itchy static. You blink owlishly at him, straining to hear over it.
“What?”
“I came over because you asked me to, and I’m staying to make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m fine.” You point towards the door. “I think… Trey, I think you need to leave.”
His arm, which had previously been moving in circles, falls still. He sets the bowl down again. “We’ve talked about this before, (Name).”
“I don’t remember.”
“All the more reason for me to stay, yeah?”
“No… No, that’s not—”
Trey smiles, his tone lighthearted. “Hey, relax. You’ll feel better after something sweet. It won’t take long for the cake to bake. Wait for a little longer. If you want, you can lick the spatula when I’m done—”
“I don’t want cake.”
“No? I remember you told me it was your favorite, though. Am I remembering wrong?”
Is he?
“It’s…gross.”
“Gross?” He chuckles sheepishly. “That bad, huh? Not a fan of my baking?”
You gaze past him at the batter in the bowl. Confetti cake. You look towards Trey again. “What was that?”
He opens his mouth, but you don’t hear the words.
Static.
Incessant, itchy static.
You track his lips, his eyes, his hands.
“What?”
Sound seeps in, crunchy but audible.
“…a joke,” he’s saying. “I was just joking.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Don’t worry about it. My feelings aren’t hurt. I know you enjoy my baking.”
The TV tunes into a nonexistent channel. Static buzzes on the screen.
Loud. Louder. So loud!
You can’t hear yourself think. Can’t hear your lungs wheeze. Can’t hear yourself speaking slowly as you stumble into the grass’s green embrace.
Incessant. You’ll go insane. Static. Incessant. Too much. You feel sick. Bile drags itself up your throat.
Loud. Loud. Loud. Impossibly, incessantly loud!
Your arm sweeps through the air. The bowl is flung across the room. Ceramic shatters. Batter spatters on the wall and kitchen tiles. You feel the dull ache in the aftermath. Trey’s speaking, but it’s just static. All-consuming. Buzzing like flies over birthday cake gone bad. Incessant.
And then the TV clicks off.
And then it’s quiet.
iii. insanity - over and over and over and over and over and over and over and and and and and and and andandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandand01100001011100100110010100100000011110010110111101110101001000000110111101101011011000010111100100111111
Teeth. All thirty-two of them. Porcelain teeth. All forty-two of them.
They grow under your tongue and along the roof of your mouth in clusters. Insanity. It’s doing the same thing incessantly while anticipating different results. Insanity. It’s looking at too many teeth crammed where they shouldn’t be.
Opening your mouth as wide as it can go, you peer at yourself in the mirror. Your tongue runs along them. Smooth.
Teeth. All fifty-two of them. Hellish hyperdontia.
Grass is pesky when it gets in your mouth, reaching far with green fingers.
Flossing is important. If you forget, your gums will bleed and bleed, and then your mouth will be in for a world of pain. You’re smarter than this, so you need to keep up good dental hygiene. Brush and floss as you would, but not too hard or else you’ll break.
Insanity. It’s taking advice from butterworts and rabbits—from meadows tilled and filled with sin.
Teeth. Too many. Have you been flossing properly?
And then they’re at the back of your throat, sprouting from skin like the dainty heads of a dozen Frozen Charlottes. You stick your fingers down your throat to grab at one, but you can’t get hold of it. You cough. Teeth are closing up your esophagus. You look at your mouth and see a lamprey.
Insanity. It’s full of teeth.
You gag around them, heaving mouthfuls of air that struggle to reach your lungs. You feel teeth in there, too, growing in groups like an invasive species. You brace yourself against the sink, gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles sting. Your jaw is starting to feel sore.
Terrified, you find your reflection staring back with wide eyes. And then the first tooth comes loose. It falls into the basin of the sink with a pattering clink. You inhale through your nose, and that’s as much of your shock as you can express before more teeth follow suit. They shift out of your gums, one by one, until dozens of them are spilling out in calcium rain. Bent over the sink, you spit and spit. Tears threaten to pour from your eyes.
This can’t be happening.
You try to scream, to beg for it to stop, but the teeth keep coming. For every few that fall out, twenty more grow. It’s a cycle.
Insanity.
Incessant.
Itchy.
You sob helplessly, salt mingling with saliva and teeth.
When you look back at the mirror, you see blood stringing from empty gums.
The bathroom light flickers. Dizzying darkness. An unusual heat settles under your skin.
Itchy.
Incessant.
Insanity.
The bathroom light flickers. Blinding brightness. You’re still reeling. The heat won’t go away. Your eyelids are heavy. You feel sleepy, but it’s only early evening.
“Everything okay?”
You spy Trey in the mirror. His arm is propped against the doorframe as he leans in, half of his body shrouded in the shadows from the hall.
You swallow. It goes down smoothly. The teeth have retreated.
“T-Too much chamomile,” you grind out, reaching up to touch the column of your throat.
Teeth. All thirty-two of them.
The basin is empty. No teeth.
“How about a slice of bread? You’ve gotta eat something, (Name).”
“I’m not hungry.”
Your tongue traces all thirty-two of your teeth. They’re there, rooted firmly in your gums.
Trey frowns. “At least let me heat the leftover lentil. It’s liquid. You won’t bite your cheek again.”
“I might burn my tongue.”
“If you’re worried, I could feed you instead. Airplane it and everything.”
At your bewildered stare, Trey laughs and holds his hands up in mock surrender.
“Joking.”
“Are you really here to help me?”
He lowers his arms. An uncanny cold fills the bathroom.
“Nothing is going to get you.”
“What?”
“There’s nothing here, (Name). You’re safe.” Trey glances down the hall for good measure. The hair on your neck rises, alert. “It’s in your head. You’re messing with yourself, you know, getting worked up over things that aren’t really there. I promise you’re okay. Nothing can hurt you while I’m here.”
It’s not in your head. Of course not. It couldn’t be.
Right?
It’s not really in your head, is it?
You storm out of the bathroom, pushing past Trey in your impatience. He follows you soundlessly. Everything looks the same. The sofa. The wallpaper. The kitchen. The cracks and creaks. Nothing’s changed.
So is it in your head? What is it—the thing in your head? It’s itchy and incessant. It makes everyone gaze at you as if you’re insane.
If you could, you’d take a scalpel to your body and cut yourself out of your skin, put it through a long wash cycle, and hang it out to dry. Maybe then the thing would leave.
You stop at the front door, suddenly hesitant. Has it all been in your head? Are you going crazy? Is Trey right: There’s nothing here and you’re making everything up?
You wrench it open.
A black rabbit blinks up at you with its milky-white eyes. Its nose twitches. Once. Twice. Thrice. A loud gust slithers through the field in which you currently observe, surrounded by decaying greenery and wilted wildflowers. They sprawl endlessly, clawing at the horizon beyond with broken fingers. You watch monochrome tones sway, dried petals flaking off like scabs against a battered, bloodless sky.
You take one step towards the rabbit and it takes off in a sprint, bounding through—
The grass gathers you in a hug. It whispers strangely soothing static.
“Everything is going to be okay.”
iv. 01101001011101000010000001110111011000010111001100100000011000010110110001110111011000010111100101110011001000000111010001110010011001010111100100101110
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qierxing · 10 months
Text
yandere Corpse bride AU, where you're a undead person who died in their wedding attire and swore to be reunited with their spouse.
When Trey accidentally summons you after practicing his wedding vows to his fiance, he nearly faints when you stagger to your feet, covered in dirt and silk white tatters that barely cover flesh and bones. You happily accept the polished silver ring and trap him in a tight hug. It's much too late for him to get a word in while you babble about plans on whether the wedding venue should be decorated in white lilies or red roses. But he's too kind, and he can't find it in himself to squash the sparkling hope that lights your gaunt eyes, and so–
–he keeps quiet. His groomsman, an eccentric cat like gentleman who has a fondness of unsolvable riddles and mischief, merely grins widely when he hears Trey's conflicted explanation.
"The poor dear probably means no harm," he laughs and shrugs. "And if you help them, then they might be able to pass on."
Trey sincerely hopes so. From your overall look, it's clear that you've been dead for a good while, and although you refuse to talk about it, the gaping hole in your chest most likely meant that your death was not caused by natural means.
He comes to learn that you had planned to elope with your fiance, but somewhere along the way, you had perished waiting for them. Robbed of the meager gold coins you took to keep you and partner afloat, you were resigned to waiting for the day they would come back to your waiting arms.
He didn't plan on this. He thought it was just pity that kept him by your side, gently adjusting your limbs when they became askew from rot or making sure to fix your tattered wedding wear back to its original luster, with the help of an old teacher. No, it was not pity when he showed you how he baked cakes, watching with a soft smile as you admired wholeheartedly his frosting skills. It was not pity he felt when he let himself listen to you play elegant piano pieces, haunting melodies echoing off stone walls.
Somewhere, along the way, you had become endearing.
He doesn't think about the fiance who wonders where he must be, whose curiosity leads them to follow Trey to his meeting place with you. They are horrified, but most of all, outraged. How dare you take away their future partner? And that is indeed what they shout when they confront you when you're alone, shrieking about how you were a monster and taking someone else's husband away. Needless to say, you run from them in confusion and fear.
Is that really what you are? Just a heartless monster? The more you ponder upon it, the more you realize their words ring true as you try to search your memory of Trey agreeing to marry you. Anything that would have confirmed that he loved you. But it all comes up blank. There are no watery tears when you weep; but your ribs crack under the weight of your stuttering breaths, your lifeless body barely able to maintain your lively emotions.
And so, you decide to let go. Perhaps you can bear to love Trey, but you can't bear being the reason he couldn't love. When Trey comes to see you again, you quietly slip off the silver ring, still shiny and new, and hand it back to him. His face pales, worried confusion lacing his questions on if you changed your mind because of something he said? Were you mad at him for not staying longer with you the other day? You can only smile as he rambles on, and it's only when you clasp both his hands gently, he finally, finally, looks you in the eyes.
You apologize for everything: not asking him whether he wanted to even marry you, forcing him to spend time with you, making him acquiesce to your stubborn demands. It's a miracle you don't break down midway through.
There's a comforting pull when you laugh with tears in your eyes at Trey's horrified face. It's so soothing, there's barely any resistance, as pieces of you start flickering away, flesh finally rendering itself to dust, silk fluttering into petals that float away on the wind.
If you're lucky, you'll pass on before Trey grabs you in desperation, attempting to bring back dust and particles in hopes of making you stay. You can finally be free of your mortal coil and sorrows–even if you leave behind a man who spirals into madness and insanity. Cursed to roam the earth until he could find a way to join you in the afterlife and beyond.
–but if not, beware.
Death is not torture, it is repreive. Being forced to endure your flesh falling apart at the seams, while in the arms of someone who cannot see sense, is more agonizing than being able to accept your life and move on.
Yes, beware the man who has learned to love so fiercely, he's willing to defy nature's laws and whatever god is out there so you can remain his lovely spouse, for the rest of eternity.
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mellowwillowy · 2 months
Text
TWST x Self-aware Yan Cannibal AU Ft: Unhinged GN Reader
𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥
Unbirthday party has always been a merry occasion for 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥. Not only does he get to eat the strawberry tarts, but he also gets to have Trey's meat pie specialty.
Pigs who dared to enrage the tyrant by upsetting you, the law, are sent to the kitchen for the butcher and baker to process into something edible.
The card soldiers cheer in joy and anxiety, pleased to be able to taste the main course yet sweating over the idea of screwing up and ending up on the silver platter.
Yet part of them does not really mind if it's meant that they will be devoured by you, the law, their grace. Ace and Deuce have always irked Riddle but the sight of you smiling along with their pranks and mischiefs save them from the trouble they are about to face.
Cater will always upload it on magicam, boasting the sight of you enjoying your stay in 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥 as you nibble on the tart. Baked and minced to your favorite, as usual. Trey and Cater sure know their way around this, memorizing how you like it by heart.
--
"Looks like you two are having a hard time cleaning the guillotine huh?" You stopped in front of the guillotine, watching the other students along with the ADeuce duo wiping the blade that had severed yet another pig for you to feast on soon.
"Uh yeah, troublesome as always, I hate having this bloody mess all over my hands." Deuce furrowed his eyebrows, waving his hands for you to see. Ace immediately elbowed Deuce, "Dude, you are splattering the blood all over me!"
You chuckled at the duo before turning back your focus on Riddle and his chaperones, "I assure you, those blood does taste good too if you know your way around it."
Trey and Cater raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other, seemingly knowing what they would present for you at the next Unbirthday party.
"Is that so? Then I'll make sure to have your Grace have a taste of it at our next tea party."
𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰
It's only natural to see the beasts ripping the guts out of the prey with their bare fangs. 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰 surely offers an entirely different vibe when it comes to banquets.
Until Leona signals them, the beasts are nothing but starving predators, ready to shred the prey into minced meat. But Leona is nothing but a calm and obedient beast when it comes to you, eagerly waiting for you to give him the accord.
One tilt of your head and a nod is all it takes for Leona to snap his fingers, the chosen beasts leaping toward the prey eagerly as their claws and fangs tore them apart.
Jack was the fiercest among the others, even more than his seniors. For someone who held an upright moral integrity, he had it revolved around you and all sense of justice had been laid onto the tip of your tongue.
Ruggie on the other hand only watched in amusement next to Leona, waiting for the next batch of captured prey to be feasted by him. He would not cut line and steal a bite of what's not given to him from you, oh nooo, he was a patient hyena.
Leona cocked his head to you, eyes focused on you while waiting for you to lock your eyes with his, "Should I grab one for you to eat too, your Grace?"
𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞
Mostro Lounge has always offered the best dining experience. It is not to be doubted again that 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 is most definitely going to serve you the finest meal, personally handled and cooked by the Tweels.
And of course, those who fail to fulfill the terms of Azul's contract have to feel how the merfolks gut them, spilling their whole innards all over as they choose which part is considered the most delectable for you.
From the sophisticated look of the beverage, tinted dark red yet a hue of purple could be seen, giving it a pleasingly aesthetic look for you to fawn over before you drink it down.
On the silver platter was a heart, decorated with things you had no idea about but you had seen back in your world. Fancy diners always do that, you thought to yourself.
"Only the best part for your Grace." Jade bowed down as he adjusted the plate and utensils. Floyd was grinning from ear to ear as he dusted the sugar cube into your drink, "And something refreshingly sweet for ya' highness!"
You gave them a curt nod before slicing it, Floyd kneeling down next to you while his face rested on your chair's armrest, eyes glimmering in excitement as he waited for your feedback. Jade might not show it in his face but even you could notice how his feet tapped against the carpeted tile, something you'd never see from someone who could stand still for hours without moving like an inanimate object.
You gave them an approving nod and smile as you took a sip from the drink Floyd personally went over length to make for you, "Satisfactory as usual."
A pair of hands clasped on your shoulders from behind, Azul cooed right into your ear "But your Grace, surely it can go beyond that no? We'll make sure of that the next time you choose to feast here."
𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐚
Banquet has always been something that is always happening due to Kalim's nature and Jamil has never really found any joy from it.
But all that changes if the banquet is thrown for you. Oh, how the viper ensures himself to go beyond length in preparing the dishes. With Kalim's endless riches, he can use all sorts of ingredients one would never be able to obtain without spending a fortune for their rarity. Only the freshest and best ingredients are allowed to be used for your meal and so are the living meat of the students.
Everything must be set to a T. Kalim may not be a tyrant but when it comes to you? He's unconsciously pointing his fingers and brows scrunched at anything that is not abided by perfection. The lamps are not hung at the right angle, the pillows have not been changed into new pillows and the animals must be paraded in order and not roam like wild beasts. Anyone who just ever makes the slightest mistake will be sent straight to the kitchen as an ingredient. Had it not been for Jamil's suggestion to send them all bruiseless, they would have been beaten until they were nothing but pulp.
You were taking in the sight of the parade, everything was as amusing as you had always remembered. But the true highlight lay in Jamil's cooking, if you have to pinpoint the best cook in this twisted wonderland then it had to be Jamil. Unlike the finery of Mostro Longue, Jamil's cooking had a different feel to it. It was not as aesthetic yet it did not change the fact that it still looked pleasantly delicious. If Mostro Lounge accounted for the positioning of the food in a numerical and angle way, Jamil offered everything in a neat bulk. Curry, prata, shawarma, and all. Its display screamed for people to grab one yet no one dared to unless you ordered them to do so.
You cocked your head toward Kalim who was sitting right next to you, eyes glimmering in adoration as he drunk in your expression. Oh, would you finally like to have a bite? He held one of the shawarma out toward you with an empty plate in his other hand.
Jamil had ensured that there were 2 different platters, one for you which was made from the best ingredients and seasonings, while the other was less if compared to yours but still delicious nonetheless. One was made from meat and blood that had been considered the best while the other was made from those that failed to pass through the requirements.
You took a bite from his hand, savoring the taste of Jamil's hard work while enjoying the show of Kalim's tyranny. Truly, you love being able to taint your beloved sunshine.
"Say say, are you enjoying it all, your Grace? Not even a beat of music missed and all the food that sprawled across the room is ensured to be of the best quality." Kalim brought a goblet onto you and you held it in your hand. He gave you another grin that was just as blinding as the sun, his finger beckoned Jamil to pour you the carmine drink, squeezed from their cries of agony and pain before they were minced.
"But of course, your Grace has no need to hesitate to point something out if it's not to your liking," Jamil chimed in as he watched you swirl your goblet. The two of them stared right into your eyes, eyes enchanted by you despite one being an enchanter, "Because we seek only perfection for your Grace's taste."
𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞
𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 prides themselves in their pitch-perfect diet. So what if their Grace has a different taste in the feast? All they have to do is readjust and tailor the whole dorm's diet to yours.
The fairest one of all, wearing a tiara that shines even brighter than any tiaras Vil has ever seen, truly living up to the radiance you emit just from sitting on the very throne with him standing right next to you.
It appeared that preparing a banquet was a huge feat for 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 as they were divided into 2 teams. Team One prepared the whole occasion while Team Two flocked toward you, amusing you with a theatric show as you watched them from your throne.
It appeared that Rook's fascination with the world of theatrics and you worked really well as he 'acted' out the role of a lover professing his love toward the protagonist really well. Strings of bizarre praises and wishes rolled from the tip of his tongue smoothly as though it was by nature for him to act so already.
Epel on the other hand was all energized to drag the qualified livestock into the kitchen after Vil had inspected them all personally. The livestock was to be of a healthy diet, bruiseless and ailment-free before it was allowed to be cooked and feasted by the Grace.
The moment Rook was notified that the whole banquet was ready, a trumpet was blown and you were led to the dining hall which had been decorated to match your attire. Were you wearing something cute, pure, sexy, cool, or pop? Either way, 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 never missed a beat in losing its elegance no matter what the theme was.
"Allow me," Rook pulled the chair for you to sit on before he readjusted the platter asymmetrically. Right next to your seat on the right was Vil sitting while the rest of the body stood, not daring to sit unless you allowed them to.
Seeing Epel all giddy observing you, you beckoned him to come to you and he whispered into your ear, "I seasoned it!"
You cocked a questioning eyebrow toward Vil and he could only sigh with a chuckle, "Oh what will I do with your Grace's taste bud?"
Rook poured a carmine red fluid into your glass, its smell told you that it was not made just from a fine wine but rather, a fine blood.
"A fine cocktail of white wine, dyed with a carmine golden drop, hand-picked and squeezed personally by me. Truly, your favorite, your Grace."
𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞
Honestly, what do you even expect from all these anti-socials? They are nothing but a bunch of hikikomori yet the Shroud Brothers just know how to surprise you!
Unlike the impractical methods that the others use to earn just a golden drop of blood from the livestock, the dorm has created countless practical devices that help them to create something quickly.
Compressors that grind down the gutless livestock into a fine drink. Shredders that allow them to save time from having to shred from chunk by chunk. And a practical inspection device that helps Idia sort out the best for you to feast on.
Ortho had to be the most eager one of all, singing non-stop as he ensured all were to be finished quickly when you informed him that you would be choosing 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 for your next banquet.
They specialized in efficiency and speed but that did not mean they lacked the skill of cooking a delicious dish. While it may be pale when compared to other dorms, 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 is a great option for when you are craving for something and want it to be on your plate in a short moment. They might not score 12/10 but they were able to at the very least score 8/10. Surprised much? Ortho had been practicing how to cook and all from the data Idia inputted into him.
"Uurgh.. uhh... y-your Grace... so what is the verdict? A level up? Or an increase in the ranking board? O-Ortho is really expecting your answer..."
You raised your eyebrows at his stuttering, "Getting better," you stopped for a moment to chew again, "and delicious."
Ortho immediately leaped toward you from Idia's back, causing him to squeak, his metal arms wrapped around your neck, "I'm glad! Please keep on coming here and I'll make sure to be the best cook you'll ever have!"
Idia brought a napkin over to your face, "Yes... should your Grace ever need for a quick meal, please come by... Me and Ortho... and Ortho... will always be ready at your disposal."
But who were you but the all-knowing God, you knew there was a slight taint of blot in your meal, Ortho, you assumed.
𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚
Lilia has to stay away from the kitchen. But don't worry, the bat is entrusted with hunting down livestock for the youngsters to process into something edible.
Malleus on the other hand is ready to strike anyone down with lightning should they make the slightest mistake in the banquet preparation.
Sebek is in charge of inspecting the livestock while Silver is in charge of the most gruesome part of the job (which was appointed by you for fun.) which is gutting. Surely tainting someone so pure like him has to be your favorite feast.
The candles on the table were all lit in emerald hue, fireflies surrounded you as Lilia levitated around you, joyously guiding you toward the dining table.
There you could see Malleus sitting on the second host seat, his hand prompts you to take a seat across from him. Lilia pulled the chair for you to sit before Silver walked out of nowhere, holding a plate of dishes for you to feast on.
Sebek on the other hand had been arranged to stand right next to Malleus, part of him was happy yet part of him envied Silver. Nonetheless, no barks had ever slipped past through his sealed lip.
"Kukuku, the boys went through great details and length in preparing this whole banquet, well, me included. It was fun hunting down these livestock for you," His index finger felt your platter, "it makes me feel like I must pick the ripest for you... feeding you... aa~"
Soon, he brought a forkful of meat sliced by SIlver earlier while you were distracted by Lilia. Malleus smiled at your dazed-out face and the way realization washed over you.
"May your Grace enjoy the blessing that you have graced us tonight." Malleus raised his goblet, urging you to do just the same.
"Cheers!" Lilia wiped your mouth with the napkin, Silver's hand holding out your filled goblet.
𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐲 ???
"My words! Did you have fun, hm?" Crowley immediately lunged toward you the moment you entered his office. He gave you the cutest pout you could ever see from him, his cheek rubbed against yours repeatedly.
"Are you jealous, Dire?"
"Of course not! How can someone as magnanimous as I, be jealous of my own fledglings?" And as though to prove to you his seriousness, he even posed ridiculously with his staff.
You cackled at him before giving him a kiss on his cheek, "I'm home, Dire."
Crowley stopped acting up and turned serene, giving you a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes.
"Welcome home, Master. Dinner's ready as usual."
Oh old times... ???
721 notes · View notes
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A request...
Dunno if this has been done already but A self aware Azul, Trey, and Lilia reacting to the player saying they "had a bad day but seeing them made it much better".
Let me know if this is confusing and you're free to not answer of course
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsessive behavior, unhealthy behavior, mentions of blood, mentions of war, death, bad cringe humor bc I haven't written for a while
Trey Clover/ Azul Ashengrotto/Lilia Vanrouge-"Seeing you made my day better!"
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Oh, are you alright?
The second you returned to them, Trey could tell that something was wrong with you
A bad day perhaps?
If he could talk to you he would sit you down to talk about what (or who) ruined your day (whilst secretly planning their demise but pshh)
But then you suddenly stare at the screen and drop something like that at him? Whew... I-I think he is swooning
He almost forgets that you are having a horrible time before all of this until he finally sees you having a strained expression once more before going off
Oh ok. This is fine. This is totally fine. Haha... TOTALLY FINE
Like, imagine my mans expression
He feels honored that you feel and think that way about him but at the same time...
Bro over here can't really help
He tries to be as present as possible after that
(Toatally not like a cat throwing itself on your lap for attention)
In his mind, the more present he is the better you feel
(Not like peeps play games to escape reality but sure, if Trey wants to see himself as your emotional aspirin then sure)
But perhaps his attention really helped, perhaps something good just happened that got you in a good mood
So when you finally said that seeing him made your day so much better it felt like the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds after a long storm
Well, luckily he didn't need to conspire with Draconia to get you here anymore
But then again, if what you said was true then him being with you would keep you happy all the time, right?
Oh what he does for his go-I mean his uncrowned ruler
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This brings back a lot of dark memories for him
And I mean that literally
His memories of these days are filled with him sitting in a dark corner of his little pot
Only with the difference that for him his ray of light was food, for you it… is whatever this is
It does surprise him though
You, the high scholar, wisest of the wise, were more human than he imagined you to be
Well, to be fair, it was easy to imagine you as that unfeeling being that hovered over all of them
Day after day did the octopus see you do whatever you came to do and then go again
Although… you always made sure to check on him whilst having that faint smile on your face
How sweet. Doesn’t make him worry any less though
Until one day you finally tell him that seeing him made your day better
Wow… how is he supposed to react to that?
His inspiration for everything he does sees him in that light
This totally won’t get to his now. Naw. I have no idea what you are talking about
Continue to tell him that. Tell him how much his presence makes you happy
And if you should look in the direction of some unfortunate NPC that unknowingly made you laugh he will see red
Interesting, his cane looks a bit red as well. The handle area should be cleaned again… why is it so sticky?
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Lilia is not amused
Sleep deprived, yes, but not amused
Oh why that? Well, this father decided to pray even more to you in order to cheer you up
Now, if you know anything about Lilia in this au then you also know how religious he is, so him praying even more? Uh… perhaps he gets two hours of sleep at best
You are his god so surely you hear his words, asking you why your expression is always so sad, so exhausted
STOP SHARPENING YOUR SWORD YOU OLD BAT THERE IS NO NEED TO START A HOLY WAR IN THE OVERSEERS NAME WTF MADE YOU EVEN THINK OF THAT SOLUTION??!
Anyways, if Lilia is not in a good mood, so is entire Diasomnia. He is more or less the dorms old and wise fairy grandmother who hands out advice like lollipops so when he is not in a good mood, so is nobody else
No matter what the local group of non-violent military trained guys do, they just can’t cheer up their usually oh so happy teacher and guide
Lilia reminds the NPCs of the dorm of a certain general they read about in the history books (but there is no way that could be Lilia)
Until one day he walks in like he is in a romance anime, looking up with sparkling eyes to the altar and thanking your statue for your favor
If this was any other dorm, he would have been send to the school therapist (oh yeah, they have a shrimp instead of that)
When asked by his son what happened Lilia just looks up, still with that weird look in his eyes, tells him that “I have finally been noticed by our grace”
Malleus is telling Sebek in the meantime to call for a doctor because it seems like their general just lost his last few marbles
What really happened was Lilia heads down dangling from who knows where, perhaps the cafeteria chandelier, and asking himself what could have made you so sullen the last few days
Until suddenly you zipped in, looked at him (probably once up to his knees and then down to his head whilst saying “Mhm. Looks good.”) and were like “Seeing you made my day better.”
That was the moment when Lilia lost his grip on the metal and fell face-first, thankfully it was already late so no one was present but if I got a coin every time he fell like that I would have one, which tells us how rarely that happens
How about you go to whatever NPCs that govern the other countries and warn them that there is a high low-key mad general who would start would annihilation if you so much as feel slightly sluggish
You know those people who need to hear compliments constantly so they don't go bananas? Yeah
Whoops. Seems like you complimented the uniform of Octavinelles uniforms after seeing one of their NPCs. Wonder what happened to that guy. He isn't attending his classes anymore, that's for sure
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skyyletai · 12 days
Text
Your limbs are almost frozen, you can’t feel your fingers. desperately trying to maintain at least some warmth, you nervously peek at your “interlocutor”. And he sees it.
"Aren't you cold, dear?" he looks at you expectantly, smiling, without blinking.
"No."
If you squint, you can see the disappointment flashing in his eyes.
“Victory,” you thought mockingly, shivering from the cold.
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starburts-addict · 4 months
Text
Two of a Kind (part 2)
Note: It's been a while, I finished this about a week ago, but didn't have the time to post it. So here it is! The long-awaited part two! CW: @melon14 @alwayszealousdetective @naomikazumi
You contemplated what you should do. Why are they fixated on you staying with them, or to put it better, why are they fixated on you? You haven't done anything special to catch their attention. While the 7 argue, Grim pulls on your clothes and whispers loudly. "Let's go." You looked at Grim and nodded along. As the argument continued you and Grim made haste to leave, but before you could take another step forward, Lilia spoke to you, ignoring Grim. "Where do you think you're going?" Lilia asked with curiosity, lacing his voice. You turned back around with an awkward smile as the arguing ceased and all eyes were on you. You didn't want to get involved, so you did the first thing that came into mind. You grabbed your cleaning supplies and threw them at the vice dorm leaders plus Ruggie and Ortho all while apologizing. You quickly picked up Grim and began to run.
You needed to get to a populated area, you could lose them there, or perhaps they would immediately lose interest the second you reacted badly. The latter became wishful thinking as you hear footsteps catching up to you quickly. This made absolutely no sense, what was with the attention you were receiving? Luckily the footsteps slowed down as they seemed to be fighting. You quickly picked up the pace as you had Grim in your arms. Grim looked over your shoulder to make sure you weren't being followed or having someone getting closer. You still were, but they weren't within arms distance. You only focused on getting away. You don't want to get involved with anyone in the main cast aside from Grim, but apparently they have different plans.
You ran into the cafeteria seeing that it would be the most crowded area in the morning. Putting Grim down you started to try to regulate your breath. You ran a lot and you managed to get to your destination without issue. That was until Grim pointed to the entrance. They followed you here, but they didn't know of your exact location. You mentally cursed at all the dorm leaders for bringing this chase upon you as you crawled under a table. The students at the table were going to say something before you hushed them. "When I get paid I'll give you my share of my pay if I successfully don't get found." You said. That immediately shut them up. Grim and you stayed silent, but much to your effort, Trey and Lilia approached the table.
The students tried to tell them you weren't here, but Trey looked under the table causing you and Grim to scream. Which made the entire cafeteria silent and attracted the attention of the others looking for you. "Oya~ Oya~ It seems that our angel fish is trying to avoid all of us.~" Jade spoke up. Angelfish? Isn't that the nickname people have used in romantic fanfictions? There is no way they have been called that. "My name is [Name] you don't have to use nicknames… '' You said. They all looked at you from your position and you just recoiled further back. They looked at each other then back at you. They laughed. "Sure sure rose bud." Trey said with a chuckle. You didn't want to hear this! You regret staying here! Grim looked at you confused yet a little disturbed. These are guys he knew and he knows they have never called you any sort of pet name.
The headmaster walked in the cafeteria. "What is going on?! I have been told that my employee has been chased and there was screaming in the cafeteria!" You never knew that hearing his voice would be such a relief! You and Grim leaped out from underneath the table and ran behind the Headmaster. Crowley stared at the Vice Dorm Leaders. "What is the meaning of this?!" Lilia stepped up. "We simply wanted to invite them to our dorms for dinner, it seems we have overwhelmed them…" He said, sighing and putting his hands on his waist. "If that's the case I can make this announcement then. With the many requests, [Name] is now a-" Before he could finish you yelled out something. "I quit this job!" Everyone looked at you. You knew where he was going with that announcement. Crowley looked at you. "Well dear, you can't quit anymore! You're a student now!" "I'm dropping out then." You said with a straight face.
Everyone seemed surprised at this. "Shehehe You don't have anywhere to go silly!" Ruggie said. "I'll find somewhere else. I don't want to be a student. I don't want to be near this school if I'm going to be chased after being overwhelmed. "I already signed your papers though." Crowley said disappointed. "I don't care! I'm looking for somewhere else to help me!" As you walked out you managed to bump into someone else who held you in the position. You looked up to find you bumped into Malleus yet again. "S-sorry for bumping into you again! Could you please let me go?" You asked.
Malleus looked at the space that seemed to have a crowd around it. "What's going on here?" You heard someone else ask. You looked around and saw that all the dorm leaders were here. Except Idia who seemed to be using the tablet. "Ah! They wanted to drop out after your generous recommendation." You turned to glare at Crowley before Malleus grabbed your chin and stared at you with disappointment. "Is this true child of man?" You mentally cursed yourself for being caught in this situation. "…Yes…" Before anyone else could say something, Grim stood up for you. "If they don't wanna stay they don't hafta!" Malleus' head snapped to Grim with anger.
Grim wanted to take back what he said from the looks of it, but didn't. "Obviously this school is already stressing them out and they weren't here for even a day." You wanted to thank Grim. But the headmaster spoke again sadly. "How about this? They become a student, but they will not be going to any active dorms." Anger erupted from the main cast as they started to try to convince Crowley otherwise. This… This never happened before. This isn't part of the story… Why are they so obsessed with the idea of you staying at one of their dorms? You quickly pushed yourself away from Malleus and grabbed Grim as you headed towards the Headmaster. The sky became covered in dark clouds.
This wasn't good. You needed to think of a way to get everyone to leave you alone. "HEY!" You yelled, causing everyone to stop arguing. "I'll give you all one month. One. To try to convince me to stay at your respective dorm. If none of you succeed you all leave me alone." The Dorm and Vice Dorm leaders looked at you and most of them looked smug. “That won't be a hard feat. Heartslabyul is clearly the best.” Riddle said with the smirk you had originally seen in the game previous to being stuck in this loop. Once again the people who you'd originally seen as just characters take stabs at each other. You and Grim simply left. It was just the morning and the second day and the story had already drastically changed.
After leaving the Cafeteria the headmaster approached you. “I had almost forgotten. Here is the schedule you both share. Don't be late to classes. I will also hand you an allowance at the end of the day. For I am so gracious! Do not worry, I'll make sure you get home soon.” He patted you on the back and Grim on his head and walked away. Frankly you only expected things to become worse by the passing hour. “We just have to avoid them all, Grim.” You sighed before walking to class with Grim, who was upset. What you failed to see was two pairs of eyes following you.
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How would the suitors reaction be when their wife ( Crewle daughter) is pregnant with triplets? And meeting the kids after birth?
With Ruggie, Jack, Lions, Malleus, Silver, Trey, Vil and Ace
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Triplets Are Here | Yandere Twisted Wonderland Crewel Daughter
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Ruggie Bucci
“What can I say I’m a beast in bed!” 
He’s not going to act like it even could have been inherited to you
He’s got a whole new air of confidence
Not only does he have the woman of his dreams 
But he knocked her up times three
Hopefully that will squash anyone else’s delusions about being with you
Either way he doesn’t mind getting rid of them the old fashioned way
“Awww they look like we had babies! Oh wait-”
“Just focus on feeding that one.”
“Yes Mama!” 
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Jack Howl
“...!”
“Jack?”
“!!!!”
“Jack?!”
“!!!!”
“If you faint now, I won’t catch you!”
This is the best news 
A strong litter, a perfect mate
He’s protecting his already larger than average pack
“Back away or I will not hesitate to end your life. I’ve got four lives to protect now.”
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Leona Kingscholar
“Geez…three?”
“Don’t make that face.”
“What face? I’m just surprised you took me so well.”
He has mixed feelings about it
Especially when he’s catering to you as your belly swells to an almost unbelievable size
And you groan in pain
“Why don’t the brats just get here. I hate seeing you in pain.”
He’s heard of other lions so jealous they kill their kin
But as he holds the little bundles he can’t begin to fathom it
He might just cry
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Malleus Draconia
“If you and I were not made for each other, theres noway this could be.”
He’s ecstatic 
But the entirety of Briar Valley and the world around you must be made to cater to you
Devoted to your comfort and health above all else 
he even struggles to let Crewel see you
“Nothing will ever hurt my loves. My babes. My wive. I’d curse the world for you.”
Genocide Murder spree ensues should there be any pain or assassination attempts
No one’s so much as flicking you 
He’d sooner rend them to ash
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Silver
“Three…at the same time…?”
“Yes so we’ll have to get three times the baby equipment and–Silver?”
“Three…in…you?”
He’s barely processing any of it 
Even when he’s practically carrying the four of you as you waddle places
“Our babies…”
“Aren’t they precious they have your eyes!”
“M-m-my eyes-? Agh-!”
“Its okay babe this is a good time to cry.”
“H-how did Dad do it!? I-I’m never letting any of you leave me!”
Any protective traits are amplified even higher
And if there was ever a time he refused to kill anyone in his pursuit for love
That has long since past
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Trey Clover 
“Well I did always say I wanted a big family!”
He’s thrilled to see your tummy rounding with his children
All while you incessantly demand for his sweets and cooking
And he’s jumping to his tooth brush after a rough morning 
But its all made even better when they arrive
Little mixes of his love and himself 
“They’ll have the cutest little teeth!”
He definitely saves them when they get older
But he’s the perfect papa
Poisoned sweets and all
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Vil Schoenheit
“We’ll be parents…is that registering?”
“Barely. When we agreed to marry I doubted ever moving further than that.”
“Does it make you unhappy?”
“Not in the slightest.”
He’s brimming with anxiety 
Worry eating away as he contemplates his own jealousy and the excitement of having a  child
It doesn’t become much easier when the triplets arrive
He despises the paparazzi 
So much so he’s willing to set his rabid fans on them
Purge them of every photo of his adorable babes
He’s the only one who gets the honor
A dazzling photo of your delivery is only for his eyes
Doxx the peeping toms
“They’re all mine. I’m willing to lose everything for them.”
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Ace Trappola
“Dang! I really am amazing–Ow! Joking, joking.”
He couldn’t be happier
What better way to prove his love ownership of the sexiest woman alive if it weren’t for the giant round belly you had
And soon to be three little rascals that are further testaments of his status
He’ll whine about things 
Probably more than you 
But in the end he’s glowing with pride as you look down at your freshly born babies
“Ehehe they can’t deny that I may have children for days but I’ve got game.”
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OK, one more. I'm on a secret admirer thing right now. How about some head-cannons about the yandere vice-dorm leaders as a secret admirer.
Thank you!
Yes yes yes I can do that!
ALSO WAS ANYBODY GOING TO TELL ME THAT RUGGIE ISN'T THE VICE DORM LEADER OF SAVANNACLAW?! LIKE, I WAS SURE HE WAS, BUT I GUESS I WAS WRONG. (I'm adding him to this out of spite)
Warning(s): drugging, kidnapping, implications of wanting to injure the reader, mind control, accidental(?) gaslighting, stalking, Lilia's part might not be great because I genuinely had no idea what to do
Trey Clover
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Trey would send you hand-made baked goods every day!
Often along with a short letter signed by "your secret admirer"
Along with the letters and baked goods, he also sends you flowers!
Of course, Trey is the first person you expect when your secret admirer's calling card so to say is sending you baked goods and flowers
But, luckily for him, he's good at throwing you off his trail. He'll send a few things that make you believe it could be someone else...
To be fair, you don't know many other people who attend NRC, maybe it is someone other than Trey.
As the days go on, the letters get... more intense.
It's clear this person, your secret admirer, wants you now.
Tonight, Trey's putting something special in the pastry he's making you
After you eat it, he'll visit you and bring you home with him.
"Morning, (Y/N). Did you have a good sleep? Did the pastry taste good? You know, I used a sprecial family recipe for tha- Huh? What's with that face? You don't have any reason to be shocked, I'm sure you knew this was going to happen, those letters I sent you did have a few red flags..."
Ruggie Bucchi
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Ruggie would be very good at hiding his identity from you
I mean, don't you think a man like him would be good at keeping secrets?
Ruggie doesn't send you baked goods or flowers, or anything like that... he instead sends you stuff he either stole or bought with Leona's money.
Candies, jewels, food... anything Ruggie can find, he'll send to you (and keep a bit for himself, obviously)
Day after day, you'll be given these gifts... and you appreciate it so much, you wish you knew who was giving them to you!
You'll even tell Ruggie about it. You'll tell him you have some kind of secret admirer, and how they've been giving you lots of gifts, and how badly you wish you knew who was sending them so you could thank that person directly!
Ruggie smirks to himself when you say that.
"Should I tell 'em...? Nah, not yet. I'll let things keep playing out until they give hints that they actually like me. Shishishi! Won't that be fun? (Y/N)'s gonna be real shocked when they find out it's me giving 'em those gifts! Grammy likes them, so marriage won't be a problem... I'm sure the rest o' the family will love 'em too!"
Jade Leech
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Jade's love letters are... special.
The letters are very hastily written, like whoever wrote it's life depended on it.
They talk about hurting you, doing these horrible things to you... whoever your secret admirer is, they have a very messed up mind.
Jade makes you believe you can go to him for support.
"That sounds terrible, (Y/N). But you have no reason to worry, you can always turn to Octavinelle for protection."
You continue receiving these threatening letters... they get worse every day.
When you start to actually feel unsafe, you remember how Jade told you that you can always go to Octavinelle for protection, and while you don't exactly want to go to them for protection... what other option do you have?
The moment Floyd sees the letter, he tells you the truth.
"Oh yeah, Jade wrote that."
Huh. Jade Leech wrote these threatening letters to you? Jade Leech, vice housewarden of Octavinelle... the dorm you're currently in? Uh oh.
"Dear me, I wasn't intending on revealing myself this soon... though I suppose I have no choice now. I was intending on building your trust towards me and once things have progressed enough, reveal that I was the author, then breaking you entirely so you love only me, but... I guess I'll have to construct another plan. (Y/N), this will only hurt for a second."
Jamil Viper
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Jamil, much like Trey, sends you home-made food.
You like the food so much! Who knew having a secret admirer could be this fun?
Jamil is good at keeping himself hidden from you, he's also a patient person. He'll keep himself hidden for as long as is necessary.
Kalim often invites you to the parties he throws... though, strangely enough, whenever you arrive, he seems not to recall inviting you.
"Oh well! The more the merrier, you know? I'm sure Jamil won't mind making a bit more food for you!"
But Jamil never has to make more food for you. Almost like he knew you were coming even though Kalim didn't.
One day, you receive a letter.
Come meet me in Scarabia dorm's lounge. I'll be waiting for you. - Your secret admirer
When you go there, you find Kalim. Kalim, standing there, empty.
"(Y/N)... he's waiting for you."
You hear a whisper in your ear, and then you forfeit all control of your body to Scarabia's vice housewarden.
"I'm glad everything worked out in the end."
Rook Hunt
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Oh Rook, where to begin with Rook?
He sends you love letters every day in the form of poems signed by "ton admirateur secret"
Due to the ecessive use of French, you have your suspicions as to who's sending you these
Vil is close to Rook, so you ask him about it, but...
"No, it can't be Rook. He only has that kind of fascination with the inhuman students, like the beastmen, fae, and what little merfolk we have here. He wouldn't send that to a typical, not to mention magicless, human like you. It must be someone else."
Having no other evidence, you just assume Vil's right, and Rook isn't sending you letters...
It drives you crazy
You're determined to find out who is sending these, you begin staying up several nights in a row, just reading these letters over and over and over again...
You can only come to the conclusion that it was Rook.
So you ask him about it one day and...
"Oui. It was I sending those letters to you. I assume this is you coming to accept my confession?"
Well, even if you try to run, you can't escape from Rook. Even if you do, you two attend the same school so he'll just keep stalking you...
"Hm? What was that, mon amour? You do accept? Merveilleux! Let's talk to the Headmage sometime tomorrow! We'll discuss you transferring to my dorm so we can be even closer- Quel? You say you don't want that? Oh, mon amour, you have no idea what you truly want."
Lilia Vanrouge
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Lilia is a very sweet secret admirer
He hides the fact that he is, to put it lightly, obssesed with you amazingly well (the others could learn a thing or two from him...)
It's just cute love letters! No stalking implications, no dubious baked goods, no talking about hurting you, nothing, just genuine confessions of love from a secret admirer!
Lilia can't help but watch over you
And then, well... dead bodies start turning up at the school
Of course, the Headmage only cares about what this will do to the overall public image of NRC...
Lilia takes care of you, from a distance
Lilia shows up directly at your door one day. He hands you a sewing needle, and then disappears into nothing.
A sewing needle? Why?
Well... spinning wheels aren't exactly that common nowadays.
As you examine the sewing needle, you accidentally prick your finger on it...
The next thing you know, you're in Lilia's arms
"Ah, you're finally awake, my dear. Did you enjoy your hundred-year-long dream? No no, there's no reason to cry! I know this is hard for you to understand... I know you're scared and confused, but everything will turn out ok. I only did this for your sake. To protect you."
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pinkie-pop · 4 months
Text
"BAD END: REVOLUTION"
Part I Part II
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Twisted Wonderland x Reader, Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Word count: 4.4k
Synopsis: You're stuck in a time loop.
Includes: Death, Despair, Bad Ends, future Obsessive and possessive behaviors
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Panic. You try your best to ignore the screaming all around you, to calm your mind, and to think of a plan.
You come up empty.
A rose bush is hurled across the garden, its thorns missing your face by mere centimeters. Your mind reels. Before coming to Twisted Wonderland, you had never even heard of an overblot. None of the fiction you’ve ever read had such a mechanic, but you suppose reality is often stranger than fiction.
They were supposed to be rare. They were supposed to happen once every few hundred years. So why is this happening to you? Why now?
Why? 
Why? 
Why?
Too absorbed in self-pity and fear, you miss the giant, inky vine heading straight for you. It pierces through your chest, leaving a trail of ink and viscera in its wake as the thorns grip at your insides like barbed wire. The ringing in your ears is deafening, but you ignore it to raise a cautious hand to your chest. Wet. People are screaming around you, and you’re faintly aware of someone picking you up and ripping off your shirt, applying pressure to the wound. It’s no use, though; your vision fades to black, and you fall to your knees, exhausted. 
Is it…finally over?
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You wake up with a start.
Something’s scratching on your door.
It’s dark—too dark. What time is it? Is Riddle okay? What about the others? You go to check your phone, only to remember belatedly that you don't have one while simultaneously hitting your head on firm wood. Come to think of it, you aren’t on a mattress…
Are you…in a coffin? Have you already been buried?! But you’re still alive, you’re—!
Your breathing quickens, but it doesn’t last for long before the lid of the coffin flies open, a familiar pair of blue eyes meeting yours. Isn’t that…?
“Myah! Give me your clothes!” …Yeah. That’s Grim, all right. Just like when you first found yourself in Twisted Wonderland, he’s blown open the lid to your coffin, just like when you first met. You’ve heard of people’s lives flashing. before their eyes in the moment before their demise, but this is far more lifelike than you had ever imagined. “Hey, what’re you thinking so hard about? Gimme your clothes right now or I’ll burn you to ashes!” Grim says. You try to ignore him, but it’s impossible to ignore the sudden burst of flames that are hurled in your direction. They miss you, but you know it was only a warning. 
“I’ll give you my robe if you really want it,” you say, relenting. “But it’s not going to fit you.”
“Psh, whatever,” Grim says. You shrug and hand it over. Just as you predicted, the robe is far too big on him, the fabric basically swallowing him whole. You try not to giggle at the way he struggles to break himself free from the cloak that envelopes him.
The rest of the night continues the way you remember it. Crowley comes to collect you. The Mirror says you have no magic, and Grim tries to take your place. Crowley tries to send you home, but the Mirror cannot locate it. You stay the night at Ramshackle. 
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You’re exhausted by the time you reach Ramshackle, so much so that you don’t even bother changing your clothes before you collapse on the bed. When you wake up, you’ll be back in the rose garden, but for now, you just want to rest. 
You wake up to the sound of harsh wind and rain hitting your window, a startlling realization on the forefront of your mind. Logic dictates that you should not be able to fall asleep and wake up inside a dream or flashback. This is real. You’ve gone back in time.
Grim is snoring soundly at the foot of your bed, he must have broken in again. Well, no matter. You have other things to worry about…but first, you’d really like to change out of this uncomfortable getup. Really, what were you thinking? You didn’t even bother to take your shoes off before you fell face-first into the mattress. You suppose going back in time must have taken a lot out of you.
You roll off the bed, removing your shoes and socks first, and your pants second. Thirdly, you lift your shirt up, flinching at the way the cold air hits the tender flesh around your wound. You bring a hand to your chest, tracing over the area. It’s mostly healed, but a rather nasty scar has taken its place. 
How peculiar. Everything else here seems to have reset, but not this. 
You stay up the rest of the night searching your mind for answers but find none. When Crowley comes in the morning and asks how you’ve slept, you lie.
The first day goes exactly as you remember it. When Grim is about to spit fire at Ace, you attempt to stop it, only to get a nasty burn on top of having to clean all the windows. You try to stop Deuce from throwing Ace onto the chandelier, but you’re too late. 
When it comes time for you to find a magestone with the help of Grim and the others, you don’t hesitate like you did last time. Perhaps your confidence rubbed off on the three, as things seemed to move along much more efficiently than the first time. You defeated the cavern monster and quickly walked the stone back to the school, where Crowley is once again moaning about how he stayed up all night doing paperwork for your expulsion. 
You find it hard to feel sorry for him.
The next few days continue to go as you remember them, though you expend quite a bit of effort to change that. You tell Ace not to go around eating food that isn’t his. It comes across as strange and unnatural, but you don’t care. It doesn’t matter either way, however, as he doesn’t listen to you.
“I’m real slim, you know?!” He says, a familiar collar on his neck. 
“The couch is over there,” you tell him.
You, Trey, Ace, Deuce, and Grim all work together to make a pie as an apology for Ace’s actions. You made the mistake of using chestnuts last time, so this time, you suggest using strawberries instead. The pie turns out amazing, and you have to remind Grim (and Ace) that the food isn’t for him.
You hope Riddle accepts it this time. 
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You tell Ace not to go against his Housewarden every chance you get. You tell him it was a bad idea, that a scolding is the least of his worries. You tell him he could get hurt, or worse, but he refuses to listen. Everything you say seems to do nothing but strengthen his resolve. Of course, it wouldn't be that easy. He doesn't know what you know.
The clock ticks, each passing second bringing you to your impending doom until, finally, it's here. 
You wake up with a knot in your stomach. Today, Ace is going to challenge Riddle for his housewarden seat. Today, Riddle will overblot, and today, you will die. 
Riddle’s overblot form is as terrifying and imposing as you remember. You do your best to fight him off, warning the others of incoming attacks and directing the action. You helped Ace and Deuce with defense magic training throughout the week, but it wasn't enough to stop the onslaught of collars. That was fine, though. Trey’s magic pulled through just like last time, and the shield spell you taught Deuce saved you just when you had died last time. 
Things were going well. You could barely bring yourself to believe that you might actually when this time before your defenses and feet slipped. You fall onto a pile of thorns that quickly coil around you like a python.
Dark spots cloud your vision as you pull against the thorns that envelop you. You fight until you are too weak to even think of struggling against your restraints. 
The last of your air leaves your lungs, and you die.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You wake up with a start. Your whole body is shaking and covered in a thin layer of cool sweat. 
Something is scratching on your door.
You reach up to check your neck, finding thin, raised scars along where the thorns penetrated your skin. You’re sure there are more on the rest of your body, but the confined coffin space makes it difficult to check.
“Myah! Give me your clothes!” Grim says. You ignore him, falling down onto your knees in a fit of despair. “H-huh? What’s wrong? Why’re you crying?! I didn’t even do nothing to ya yet!” Oh, you think to yourself. I hadn’t even noticed. You let the tears fall down your face, uncaring at how strange you might look to onlookers. You’ve died twice now; you deserve to cry a little over it, don’t you?
Grim stands by you awkwardly as you sob, all thoughts of stealing your clothes and setting you aflame seem to have vanished from his furry head. It doesn’t take long for Crowley to come find you, somehow handling the situation with less grace than even Grim. You pay his hollow words no mind and continue on with your long cry. You stay like that for several minutes as the two try to distract you or get you moving along. Finally, you shed your last tear and wipe the wetness from your face. 
“Are you feeling better?” Asks Crowley.
“Nope!” You say, giving him a thumbs up and rising to your feet.
The rest of the night passes exactly as you remember it. The mirror tells you you have no magic. Grim tries to take your place. Rinse. Wash. Repeat.
You thought you were done crying, but as soon as you flopped down on your bed, the tears came back with a vengeance. You didn’t bother cleaning up Ramshackle this time. No point in it. Besides, its your work on restoring the place that has Crowley volunteering you as the newest custodian. You want a different job this time. Ideally, you’ll get a job in the library. Not only will this give you a steady paycheck, it’s also the job most likely to help you find a way out of this time looping mess, and perhaps even a way back home. A new job also means treading a new path. With this new job, you don’t have to meet Ace and get in trouble, or meet Duece and almost get fired. You won’t have to tag along when Ace confronts Riddle—if he confronts Riddle—, and you won’t have to die.
One thing’s for sure, though. You can’t get fired this time. You can’t become a student. You have to keep this job. And the only way to do that is to tell Grim he can’t stay with you.
You greet Grim with a heavy heart as he breaks into Ramshackle come nightfall. You’ve actually grown rather fond of him these past two weeks. But what must be done must be done. You tell him that you can’t take responsibility for him, and that he needs to leave. As expected, he puts up a fight, and manages to convince you to at least let him stay the night as you wait for the storm to settle down.
“Just for tonight,” you say, holding out a pinkie to him. 
“Just for tonight,” he echos, shaking your finger with his paw. He’s holding the other one behind his back, but you pay it no mind. Even if he decides to break his promise, it’ll become Crowley’s problem, not yours. 
 As soon as you find yourself settled under the covers, however, you hear a knock at the front door. Right, Crowley had come to bring you dinner. You had forgotten all about that. Begrudgingly, you leave the bed and head downstairs to where Crowley is waiting for you with a bowl of hot soup. You thank him quietly, and he asks if you’re feeling any better.
You lie and change the subject. 
“Mr. Crowley,” you say, wringing your hands together. “You said that I could have access to the library, right? To research ways to get home? Well, I was wondering…could you give me a job in the library? I could work as a page, or a librarian, or whatever other jobs are available.” Crowley pauses, a small frown on his face that’s gone as quickly as it came.
“Why, of course. I’m elated to have such an eager worker,” he says, puffing up his feathers. Then, seemingly touched by his own words, says: “Why, my magnanimity knows no bounds!” 
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Your first day at the library starts out slow. You busy yourself by familiarizing yourself with the organization of the books and the layout of the building. It’s a rather big place, so this task has you on your feet for most of the day.
“Oi, librarian, can you tell me where this book goes?” You pause. That voice…isn’t that…? You turn around. Indeed, Ace stands in front of you, holding a book in his right hand and a pencil in his left. Did he follow you just so he could laugh at your new job, again? 
“I’m sorry, but I actually don’t know where that would go. If you hand it to me, though, I can put it into the computer and find it for you.”
“What? Seriously?! You don’t know? Aren’t you supposed to be the librarian?” There it is. This past week has almost made you forget just how mean Ace starts at the beginning. “Librarian’s assistant,” you say. “And it’s my first day so…” Ace spends a few minutes attempting to get under your skin before the bell drags him back to class.
“Phew,” you sigh, sinking down onto the floor. These past two weeks have made you consider Ace to be a friend, but that doesn’t change just how exhausting he is to be around on your first day.
Deuce visits the library next, and you help him find study materials for his classes. Honestly, he'd be better off looking for them without you, given how long it took for you to navigate the twisting library shelves, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he seems eager to have someone to talk to—his sincerity acting as a stark contrast to Ace’s earlier flattery. You like Deuce. He's honest and hardworking. Perhaps that's why you didn't turn him down when he invited you to lunch later that day. 
You spend the rest of the period reshelving books, keeping one on theoretical time travel tucked away for yourself later on. Before you know it, it's time for lunch. As promised, Deuce visits the library again to pick you up, and the two of you head down to the cafeteria together. You both get your food and sit down. The two of you had just barely started talking when the sound of someone else plopping down beside you stills any conversation. Ace has taken it upon himself to join the two of you. You suppose he’s decided he hasn’t bothered you enough today.
“Watch out!” Someone cries from across the room. You all whip around to see none other than Grim, collared with tart in mouth and sprinting across the tables, running from a very angry Riddle.
“Catch that thief!” He screams. You turn back around, fully intent on ignoring the chaos and letting someone else handle it when all of a sudden, Grim stops in his tracks on your table. 
…You can’t help but think the scene feels somewhat familiar. 
Grim launches himself up onto the chandelier, causing both Ace and Deuce to leap up from their seats.
You think you know what’s going to happen next.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
“I must say, I am thoroughly disappointed in the four of you,” the Headmaster sighs. “What in the world were you thinking?” “I’m sorry, but how am I a part of this?” You ask, raising your hand. 
“If I recall correctly, this feline here is your familiar,” Crowley says.
“You recall incorrectly,” you say. “We met for the first time at the mirror ceremony.”
“Well, you could have stopped those two from breaking the chandelier,” Crowley argues.
“And how, pray tell, could I have done that?” You ask. The two of you bicker back and forth, but unfortunately, Crowley seems hell-bent on getting you involved. The four of you are all threatened with expulsion and given a task to avoid it: find the magestone.
You suppose that some events can’t be changed.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
A beast-tamer, he says. Empty words and meaningless flattery, you’re sure. But why? What does he stand to gain from it? From you? 
You don’t know. All you do know is he’s very intent on turning you into a student, and that you’re very intent on not doing that. Every offer he makes to you has you more and more suspicious of his intentions. Though it’s hard to turn down his offer of a higher pay, you manage to overcome temptation. Crowley, surprisingly, keeps his offer open to Grim, who jumps at the opportunity to become a student. Oddly, he still only counts as half a student, and says the offer for you to become the other half will always be on the table. You aren’t quite sure what being half a student means for Grim, but he seems happy with it, so you pay it little mind. 
The next few days are grueling. Crowley works you like a dog at the library. Thanks to that, though, you learn the layout and organization at a superhuman speed. The work keeps you busy, at least. Though you find yourself missing your friends. You still hang out with them during lunch, but you miss being able to talk to them between classes. 
The loneliness takes over, and soon you find yourself in front of Crowley’s office door, about to ask about becoming a student again when a sharp pain from your lungs nearly brings you to your knees. Intrusive thoughts of your last two deaths flood into your mind. Right, being a student is what led you to your death. You can’t choose to walk the same path again. You have to keep going.
You don’t want to die again. 
The day of the overblot comes. Intent on waiting it out, you stay in the library. You have so much work to do that you couldn’t get away even if you wanted to. Which, to be clear, you very much don’t want to. 
At the end of the day you hear through the grapevine that Riddle has recovered. You don’t hear anything about any casualties, either.
Good. The day ends, and you head to bed.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You wake up with a start, instinctively reaching your hand out towards the coffin’s lid…except, a coffin’s lid is not what you find. Instead, your hand hits nothing but air. Right, you survived. It’s the next day. You fall asleep to the sound of rain hitting your window, and Grim snoring softly at the foot of your bed.
In the morning, Crowley asks how you slept. Deja vu, but you pay it no mind.
“I slept great!” You say.
“I’m so happy to hear that even in another world, you find yourself adjusting so well,” he says.
…?
Isn’t that what he tells you on your second day? Why is he repeating it?
It…it couldn’t be.
No. No way. You didn’t wake up in a coffin this time, you woke up in your own bed. But…
“[Name]? Is something wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing,” you say. 
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You’re back in the library. Just as you had feared, you went back in time to after you had asked Crowley to let you work here. You suppose fate won’t allow you to just skip the main event. You sigh. What’s even the point of all this?
“Oi, librarian, can you tell me where this book goes?” Last time, you were unable to answer this question, but now you have a week’s worth of experience under your belt. 
“You don’t want to reshelve that. If you take it out, please return it to this cart over here so I can reshelve it myself later.” “Eh? Why can’t I just put it back where I found it?” “You mean aside from the fact that you don’t know where you found it? Because we keep track of what books are picked up to know which are the most popular or in demand. We can’t count it if you just put it back on the shelf,” you say, taking the book from Ace and loading it into your cart as he tries to make small talk. There’s something a little different about his tone and cadence than the last time, but you can’t quite place it. 
“Thanks, I’ll see you around,” he says as you wave him off. Weird, you think. He didn’t even make fun of me once. What changed? Perhaps it’s just your imagination, but it seems as though Ace becomes less and less hostile towards you with every loop.
Well, you suppose you ought not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Even so, his change has you feeling uneasy.
Deuce visits the library next, and you help him find study materials for his classes. You remember where they were from the last loop. You suppose it must look rather strange for someone to know the library so well on their first day, but you pay this kind of logic no mind and help him find his things in under ten minutes. You suppress a smile at his look of bewildered amazment. He invites you to have lunch with him later that day, and you accept.
You spend the rest of the period reshelving books, keeping one on theoretical time travel tucked away for yourself later on. Before you know it, it's time for lunch. As promised, Deuce visits the library again to pick you up, and the two of you head down to the cafeteria together. You both get your food and sit down. The two of you had just barely started talking when the sound of someone else plopping down beside you stills any conversation. Ace has taken it upon himself to join the two of you. It’s a little awkward at first, but Ace’s natural charisma soon takes over, and the three of you soon begin laughing around just like old times. It almost feels as though things have gone back to normal.
You wish Grim were here, too.
“[Name]? What’s wrong? You’re crying.” Deuce looks over you, his face creased with worry. You raise a hand to your cheek. Sure enough, it comes back wet. You hadn’t even noticed.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just got something in my eye.”
“Jeez, don’t scare us like that,” Ace says. 
“What’s scary?” The three of you all turn to see Cater and Trey holding their lunches. 
“Hey, freshies, mind if we join you?” Cater asks. 
Things are changing again, but you don’t have time to dwell on it before another voice cries out from across the cafeteria.
“Watch out!” Someone cries. You all whip around to see none other than Grim, collared with tart in mouth and sprinting across the tables, running from a very angry Riddle.
“Catch that thief!” He screams. You turn back around, fully intent on ignoring the chaos and letting someone else handle it when all of a sudden, Grim stops in his tracks on your table. 
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
“I must say, I am thoroughly disappointed in the four of you,” the Headmaster sighs. “What in the world were you thinking?” You don’t bother arguing about your involvement this time. Once again, Crowley offers you a position as one of his students, and once again, you decline. You know that in order to break out of this loop, you’ll have to fight and win against Riddle, and you know that you’ll have to be a student in order to do that, but, even so, you can still wait until Crowley offers you better pay and benefits before accepting.
The day of the overblot finally comes, and this time, you’re prepared. You can't believe it took so many loops for you to realize you can't just come into a fight empty handed. No, this time you're ready to fight.
You've been spending a lot of time in Crewel's class this past week, and you have the potions to show for it. When Riddle takes on his overblot form, you'll hand out performance enhancing potions to your allies, buying you some time until you find an opening to test out your explosive concoctions. 
…You hope no one asks why you're carrying potion bombs with you.
Regardless, the dreaded duel comes around, and Riddle's overblot takes place mere moments later. You hand out potions as planned and do your best to direct your friend’s attacks, warning them when something is about to hit them, and yelling whenever there's an opening. Things are going well for once, and you find yourself hopeful, wondering if this time you'll finally see victory. 
No, you can't let yourself get distracted. You haven't crossed the finish line yet. 
Riddle throws a rose bush across the garden. You dodge. He commands vines to come forth and attack. You dodge. You're starting to get tired, but you press on. It's almost over. You just need to find an opportunity to use your potion.
The opportunity comes, and you whisper a silent prayer over the bottle before you toss the concoction at the thing standing behind Riddle. The black ink connecting him to his puppeteer is severed, and Riddle falls to the ground. Color returns, and it takes a moment for you to grasp what just happened.
You…won?
You won! 
You actually won!
You fall to your knees, ears ringing as everyone clamors around Riddle. You can't hear anything, but it doesn't matter. You won.
That night, you return to Ramshackle and head to bed early. You're curious as to what the next day will bring.
The morning sun rises on a new dawn. It’s finally over.
For now, anyway.
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