#yandere rook hunt x reader

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Pomefiore

Summary: Yandere pomefiore 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.

CW: yandere, S/N =son's name, implied past drugging, present drugging, blood, obligatory rook Hunt chasing you through the woods fic, spoilers for Epel's Unique Magic, implied previous injury, one of these parts has a second antagonist

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia 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.

The boy being placed in your arms was one of your first clear memories since Vil had opted to…make life easier for you. A beautiful boy, truly. Of course he would be beautiful; despite having zero blood relation, he was blessed to look like Vil Schoenheit. But with your eyes. Eyes that made him human.

As Vil weaned you off the potions he'd placed you under, fully believing that with a child, you wouldn't need them anymore, you held onto those eyes. And they gave you the strength to run.

You took precautions. While you were under, Vil had made you a social media presence so that the world would forever know who you were, and who you belonged to. That first year was horrible. The second you were out of the house, out of his reach, Vil mobilized his entire fanbase to find you. All it took was a teary eyed video of how you were kidnapped, but if they found you, please be gentle! You'd undergone trauma, and probably wouldn't be acting right! Once you were back home, he could get you help!

To his fans, he came off with grace and compassion. But you knew better. There was a reason he preferred to keep you drugged up on love potions

It took a year for things to calm down, even then, you would often get the stray side eye on the street, despite having dyed your hair, colored contacts, and always wearing a mask.

But it got worse. Because you'd forgotten that your son looked like a movie star.

You did your best, but a child has to go in public sometimes. And it was that that took you down.

You thought an hour at the playground would be fine. Then you noticed the phones. Various parents whispered to each other as their phones pointed at your boy. It got worse when you caught one slowly pan to you. You stood up, ran to your son, and rushed out of the park. You had to move. And fast.

He was confused as you tossed basics into a suitcase; a few snacks, a couple clothes, a pair of shoes, and some of the money you saved. You weren't even sure if you had a whole outfit packed, but you knew you didn't have time. You had to go.

You grabbed your boy by the hand, grabbed the suitcase, then ran down the apartment stairs. You rushed out the front door-

-and straight into a crowd of paparazzi.

Lights flashed in your face, blinding the both of you. You were quickly overwhelmed by shouts and loud questions, your boy clinging to you in absolute terror. You made a small attempt to push through the crowd, but it was no use.  After what felt like eternity, the crowd parted slightly, as two men you didn't recognize pushed paparazzi out of the way. 

And behind them as elegant as ever, despite the artistic tears streaming down his face, was Vil Schoenheit.

He made his way to you quickly, grabbing your face and kissing you, to thunderous applause. It was a passionate kiss, and it was the one thing you believed about the performance he was putting on for the crowd. He slowly pulled away, staring deeply into your eyes as though he couldn't believe he had you again.

Then his eyes shifted to the boy, and he wrapped him in a hug, to even greater applause. Your son, overwhelmed by the cold crowd, the loud noise, and the flashing lights, didn't fight as Vil picked him up. Instead, he clung to him, burying his face in his chest.

Vil raised a hand, which silenced the questions immediately.

“I want to thank those of you who made this possible. You have returned my family to me. I am,” he choked, looking at you with adoration. An act. You knew this routine. He turned back to the crowd, his voice full of tears, “I am truly grateful.”

He then took your hand, and made the walk through the crowd, ignoring questions as he passed. There was his limo, and one of his new bodyguards opened the door for the three of you. With zero hesitation, you entered the vehicle, Vil close behind you.

He continued to hold your son as the vehicle moved, staring into his face with affection you actually believed. Then he sighed, and turned his head to you, his gaze full of disappointment.

He kissed your son's forehead, then set him in the seat next to him. He pulled out a bottle of champagne, and poured one glass, then handed it to you without a word.

Ah. Not champagne.

He stared at you, a challenge in his gaze. You stared at the glass, unable to meet the challenge, then brought it to your lips with a trembling hand. You took a sip. Even if you only remembered taking it the first time, this flavor was burned into your memories.

Your brain began to get fuzzy, as Vil slowly crawled up next to you, and laid his head in your lap. Your last clear memory was your hand moving involuntarily to stroke his hair, as he gave a contented, lovesick, sigh.

You were stupid. That had to be it. You were a stupid idiot with 0 brains in your head. 

Rook would never forget to lock the door.

But you were an idiot. A fool. A complete moron. So when you'd seen the door unlocked, you'd grabbed your son, who you'd only known for a month, but still had taken in as your own, and strapped the infant to your chest. Then you'd run.

You ran for what felt like forever, then paused to catch your breath. A voice echoed through the forest.

“I hope your head start was sufficient, Mon Trickster, because I am starting whether you are ready or not!” 

This was followed up by an excited laugh. He couldn't be…close. He always “played fair”, even if you didn't know you were even playing a game. But his voice was right there…

So you kept running. Of course the door was unlocked. He'd gotten bored, and he wanted to play with his favorite prey. 

But the stakes were higher than they had ever been before he'd locked you in his cabin. Now you had a child strapped to your chest. 

You took stock. Running would do no good. He'd hear you, and be there in seconds. So you had to hide. And then pray you'd learned enough about covering your tracks to trick him into running past your hiding spot, so that you could escape.

You found a hollowed out tree, and squeezed you both inside. Your heart beat erratically, but you dared not even breathe. You heard a branch break, and held back a whimper. It was a test.  He expected you to react if you were there. He'd never accidentally reveal his presence.

You covered your mouth with your hand as you watched the arrow slam through the tree into the spot right next to you. A second one was let loose in the exact same spot, splitting the previous arrow in half. The second one woke the baby. He started wailing, and in seconds Rook had destroyed your hiding spot, and scooped the boy into his arms, cooing and shushing the boy back to sleep.

He shifted the boy to one arm, then grabbed your hand with his free one, smiling brightly as he dragged you back to the cabin. You were just grateful he'd been entertained enough not to shoot you.

He'd done it before.

It'd felt like hours when you'd been running. Now as he brought you back to the cabin, you realized it must have only been ten minutes to a half hour. You were pulled over the threshold, and gently pushed inside. He locked the door, before going to your son's room, laying him in his crib as you stood stiffly in the entryway.

He reentered the room, a pleased smile on his face as he walked towards you. Even though you knew how excited a chase made him, you couldn't help but back up in fear, until you found your back to the wall, his hands on either side of your head, as his nose pressed to your neck.

“Now, what should I take as my prize?”

Ever since you watched him smash the mirror with his bare hands, an unhinged smile on his face, you'd been terrified of Epel. He'd snickered as he licked the blood off his fist, musing, “Now you have no choice but to stay with me.”

Flash forward several years, and when you'd had a window, you took a gamble. You told Vil your situation and pleaded with him for his help. He was appalled by what you and your son had been through, shocked that Epel could ever act like that. You'd always seemed happy together, Epel had always assured him you'd been happy, and had chosen to remain in Twisted Wonderland. Vil was more disgusted with himself for not knowing what you were dealing with, than with Epel for doing what he'd done.

Vil didn't have the power to send you home, but he offered you a place to live, and a job. Epel would inevitably come to Vil for help finding you. Considering how difficult it would be to get you registered as someone who even existed in this world, Vil would need time before he could offer anything more substantial, and Epel would never suspect you to be living with Vil. No matter what help he could offer, you were ready to accept it.

And that's how you became Vil’s estate secretary. You wouldn't be in public, but you would help him at his home, and would know everything happening within his estate. You'd give him his schedule before he left, made sure he had what he needed, and sent him off with a smile. 

Epel had visited the mansion several times, with Vil allowing it to keep up appearances until he could assure your safety. He never stayed longer than an hour or two, and you hid in your room with your son, so there was nothing to worry about. Or there shouldn't have been, but you were still petrified, even knowing he was asking about you a floor below you.

Vil had arranged for your son to be homeschooled by someone who knew how to keep their mouth shut. He was coming out to be a good kid, even if some days you looked at him, and were reminded of his “father's” rage.

It was another day where Epel was visiting. Your son, now six, was impatient about waiting in your room. You couldn't just tell him why he had to sit still and color his pictures, but you also couldn't let him roam. Epel would know who he was immediately.

But Vil had assured you that soon, he would be able to do something more proactive, then you would be free.

After explaining for the three hundredth time that no, your son couldn't go play outside, your phone vibrated.

Can you please come see me? 

You texted back

Yeah lemme just drop S/N with Brigita

Bring him

You perked up a little at that. If Vil wanted both of you, that meant good news, right?

You made your way to Vil's office, entering without knocking. You were greeted with your worst nightmare.

Time slowed down as you saw an unmoving arm stretched past the edge of the desk, as though reaching for the pen that st a foot out of reach. You slowly panned up to Epel, covered in blood, and flicking his pen with a soft mutter, before you felt the familiar sensation of falling asleep as you were trapped in a coffin.

“Mornin, baby,” you heard in your ear, as a soft kiss was pressed to your temple.

You attempted to move, or at the very least open your eyes, but the most you felt was a tingling in the tips of your fingers. Your breathing began to get heavy as panic overtook you.

“Ah shit, must have given ya too much,” Epel muttered. “Sorry about that. I just need you to stay calm for a while.”

You groaned, and you felt his hand move to caress your cheek. 

“I was gonna punish you, but I think this is punishment enough,” he laughed. “Not being able to move while I touch ya, and monologue about how I'm bonding with the son you tried to steal from me.”

Another groan, which prompted a giggle from him.

“You should have seen meemaw when I told her you both got out. She might have killed you if she found you. You'd think it was her divine right to have a great grandson. Can you believe I had to calm her down?”

"S/N,” you groaned, and Epel cooed at you softly.

“Don't worry, he's fine. We played together for a couple of hours before  he decided it was nap time. I'll give you this, you raised him pretty good. Even if he does stink like Schoenheit.”

“Vil-”

“Don't. I don't want to hear his name. Not after what he was gonna pull.”

“He tried to save me,” you croaked out, even though it felt like you would choke on your own tongue.

He groaned, and you felt the bed you were laying on dip as he snuggled in next to you, resting his head on your chest.

“This is why you need me! You're so naive that you can't see the danger right in front of you!”

“Like you?”

He sighed heavily. “I'll admit, I haven't always been the best boyfriend, or husband. And I probably wouldn't have been a great papa. But I've had six years to sort it out.”

You gave an attempt at a snort. He sighed in frustration.

“Ya know how I figured out you were there? Cause he told me.”

“Liar.”

He huffed, and you felt him sit up.

“Y/N. Think about it. If Vil Schoenheit really wanted to help you become a citizen, or do something about me, or help you start living an independent, peaceful life, do you think anything could have stopped him?”

The thought has never occured to you. But, no, Vil would never!

“No-”

“Believe what you want. But if Vil recovers from the hit he took, and starts hunting for you, don't pout at me.”

You felt him move again, then had to fight off a panic attack as you felt his lips press hungrily against yours. You felt him move, and could feel his breath against his lips.

“Don't worry though, I'll protect you. I'll prove to you that I'm better.”

#twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil Schoenheit x reader #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #yandere epel felmier #yandere epel felmier x reader #epel felmier x reader #epel felmier

[veliana]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮!𝓥𝓲𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮!𝓡𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓼/𝓸

Tw: Yandere characters, unhealthy behaviors A/n: I do not condone the acts cited, this is pure fiction!!! Type : Yandere , angst ?

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

In the tumultuous world of Twisted Wonderland, Vil Schoenheit, known for his grace and aristocratic demeanor, hides a dark side that is only revealed to one person: you, whose enchanting beauty irresistibly captures his attention.

In the bustling halls of Night Raven College, Vil always appears distant and reserved, but in reality, he watches you attentively, captivated by every movement, every smile, every expression on your face.

Over time, Vil begins to nurture an unhealthy obsession with you, unable to resist your magnetic charm. He discreetly collects memories of you: a stray lock of hair, an object you've touched, photos sneakily taken during moments of tenderness.

Beneath his mask of arrogance and perfection, Vil harbors a deep loneliness and a burning desire to be understood and loved. He convinces himself that you are the only one capable of filling this void in his heart.

Gradually, Vil becomes possessive, jealous of any interaction you might have with other students or professors. He watches you from afar, ready to intervene at the slightest perceived threat to your relationship.His jealousy transforms into an obsessive need to protect you at all costs, even if it means resorting to extreme measures. He devises elaborate plans to distance you from anything that could pose a threat, even manipulating and intimidating those who might stand in his way.

Despite his unsettling behavior, Vil is convinced that his love for you is pure and absolute. He doesn't see his actions as manipulation, but rather as desperate acts of affection to preserve what he considers his most precious treasure: your heart.

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

In the vibrant world of Twisted Wonderland, Rook Hunt, with his quick wit and boundless energy, harbors an obsessive fondness for only one person: you, whose charm and beauty captivate his attention from the very first glance.

In the lively corridors of Night Raven College, Rook stands out with his infectious enthusiasm and irresistible humor. Yet, behind his antics, he can't help but notice you, following you with his eyes through the crowd, seeking every opportunity to be close to you.

As time passes, Rook becomes increasingly drawn to you, finding in your presence a comfort and energy he can't find anywhere else. He treasures memories of you: a ticket stub from a show you dropped, a doodle you scribbled on a loose sheet of paper, anecdotes you shared with him.

Beneath his exuberant exterior, Rook conceals emotional vulnerability, desperately seeking to fill a void in his heart. He firmly believes that you are the person who can bring him this completeness, who can illuminate his life like no other.

Rook becomes increasingly protective of you, showing jealousy towards any attention you give to others. He goes to great lengths to make you laugh, to entertain you, to be the one you can rely on in all circumstances.Despite his efforts to charm you, Rook remains vulnerable to your every gesture and word.

He becomes determined to protect you at all costs, ready to face any obstacle to ensure your happiness and safety.For Rook, his love for you is an indomitable force, a flame that burns ever brighter with each moment spent by your side. He is willing to give everything for you, convinced that you are the key to his happiness and fulfillment in the turbulent world of Twisted Wonderland.

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #yandere rook hunt #twisted wonderland yandere #yandere rook x reader #yandere rook hunt x reader

[married-to-google-translater]

Hey how's it going? Can I order yandere Jack and Rook with a sweetheart who wants a family?

I am aliveeeeeeeeeeee :D

Yandere Rook Hunt

It wouldn't be a surprise to Rook that you want a family.

Since Rook is a "small" stalker he would surely figure this out in a week.

That would definitely be one of the reasons why he "fell" for you.

However, that is not the main reason why he falls in love with you.

Something about you catches his attention first.

However, wanting a family doesn't mean you want a family with Rook.

Because this man can be pretty creepy.

And he may not even notice it.

However, you don't have much choice.

Because Rook would quickly kidnap you.

And in the middle of the forest, he is the only person with you.

Rook would certainly like a big family and lots of children.

They would be an absolute proof of the love between the two of you.

Although you might disagree

Your children would be 100% yandere.

Rook is definitely not a good influence on your children.

Yandere Jack Howl

You can see Jack's tail wagging when he first hears that you want a family.

I'm sure he would have heard about this before you started a 'relationship'.

You may have mentioned your desire to have a family a few times.

However, he would think it would be different with him.

Jack knows that kidnapping is not the best start to a relationship.

And he would have mentally prepared for you not wanting children with him.

But Stockholm syndrome is a friend xD

He would have nothing against family.

Jack would certainly also be good with children.

Personally, he would like a big family.

Jack would wait for her to finish school.

But not for too long…

Because you might get some common sense…

And maybe you'd realize that your relationship isn't the healthiest.

Jack would be a surprisingly good father.

He would be very involved in his children's lives.

Your children might become a yandere

#yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere headcanon #yandere headcanons #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Yandere twisted wonderland #Yandere twisted wonderland x reader #Yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook hunt x reader #jack howl #Yandere Jack Howl #Yandere jack howl x reader #jack howl x reader

[ceruleancattail]

Serial Killer Rook thoughts:

Tw: Yandere, gore, implied murder, Rook’s very suspicious

Maybe he’s just that one guy living in a lonely little cabin by the lake. Nobody really knows much about him. At most, the villagers could only describe how he looked like, or how peasant he was. “A charming young man” was the most you’ll get out of the villagers’ chatter.

As the “delivery service” of your town, you cycle around on dirt-paved roads, running errands for the townsfolk for a small price. It ain’t much, but it’s an earnest living.

Occasionally, you drop by. Knuckles rapping away on that wooden door, calling out Rook’s name. You figure as someone passing through, it’s your duty to make sure that he hasn’t just upped and died. Rook answers your call promptly, a gentle smile dancing across his lips as he opens the door.

Ah, how nice of you, darling . Taking the time out of your day to check in on him. Oh, just look at you! How exhausted you must be, cycling all this way.

Wouldn’t you come in for a cup of tea? Rook never takes no for an answer, casually shooting down every excuse you could come up with. His arm soon finds itself way around your waist, carefully ushering you into his cabin.

Gently guiding you towards his living room, before those skilled hands of his busy themselves. Pouring you a cup of tea, asking questions. Rook’s way of making small talk, you reason.

What’s your favourite animal?

Oh, those? They were tricky to hunt, that’s for sure. Rook’s caught some before. Maybe next time you could drop by to see him in action.

Favourite colour?

Ah, how beautiful. Rook very much admires that particular shade as well… what an odd coincidence. He’s seen some wildflowers in that colour. Would you care for some blossoms?

How’s life been, in the village?

Ah, is that so? Rook prefers a quieter life, in the woods with nothing but the melody of nature to keep him company. It’s mediative, in a way. Maybe you should try, sometime.

You answer most of them light heartedly, laughing politely. Quipping back some questions of your own, you lean forward expectedly. Only to be greeted with a placid smile, before Rook turns the tables once more.

Emerald eyes staring into yours unwaveringly, their gaze burning into your irises itself. There was something unnerving about the intensity Rook’s eyes had, but you shrugged it off as just… a quirk of his. Yes, it had to be. He had to be focused, as a hunter living off the land… right?

A little weary from the constant bombardment of questions, your eyes flicker around the room, trying to find something else to talk about. Glancing at the walls, your eyes narrow in confusion. Most hunters you’ve known frame at least one or two of their exploits on the walls for the world to see. Even if taxidermy wasn’t their thing, at least there’ll be a photo or two.

Rook didn’t have that. His bows were framed on the walls, yes. Some metal crossbows, strings pulled taunt, ready to fire at any time. These laid beside more traditional bows, ranging from the natural hues of wood to the metallic sheen of steel.

Yet there weren’t any animals in sight. Only… pictures. Pictures of people in black and white. Going about their day. Most of these seemed to portray people in their most natural state, walking around, running errands… all the mundane activities of everyday life. But one thing struck you as odd.

None of them seemed aware they were being photographed. Out of all the photos on the wall, none of the subjects were looking into the camera. How odd.

Turning towards Rook again, you remark about how devoted he was to his craft. Surely to amass such a collection, he must be rather passionate about photo taking. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rook stiffen ever so slightly, a sinister glint gleaming in his eyes. Before it resumed its usual calmness, the placid smile clicking right back into place.

Well, yes… you could say he was very passionate about what he did. These people have treasured the photos Rook took of them… until the day they died.

A chill ran down your spine. You laugh nervously, remarking about how late it was. You should really be getting back to work. For a moment, Rook refused to move. A bead of cold sweat ran down your back, heart thundering away in your chest. Panic rushing through your veins, nothing but the pounding of your pulse beating within your eardrums.

Until finally, Rook got up. He walked you to the door, lamenting that you had to go so soon. It’s so rare he got any visitors. It’s rather lonely all the way out here in the wilderness….

Before you could even think, words slipped right past your lips:

“I’ll come back again. Maybe you can take my photo then?”

The ghost of a faint smirk danced across his lips as he clutched at your hands, proclaiming his gratefulness in elaborate prose. Before you stepped out of his door, Rook places something in your palm.

A necklace of… sorts. A silver charm was threaded through it, in the shape of an arrow. A lucky charm, Rook explained. It’ll keep you safe. Well, as safe as the circumstances allowed, he chuckled.

It used to belong to a client of his, but as of now? They… no longer have any need to use it, you see. So now Rook bestows it upon you! Ah yes, silver looks terrific on your neck.

Waving hesitantly , you cycle away from his cabin. Heaving a sigh of relief you had no idea that you were holding. An odd man… but charming, strangely enough. You guess you could pay him another visit the next time you were out.

Just… another one. To keep him from getting too lonely, Y’know?

From the window of the cabin, Rook stood slyly to the side. Parting the curtain with a single finger, watching you go. Goodness, how adorable. The darling on their bicycle, cycling off into the distance.

How defenceless.

Oh, how did he wish to reach right over, and trap you in his embrace. Rook could tell you were getting unnerved. With your gaze flitting all around, avoiding his own, with your trembling fingers as you pushed yourself off his armchair, clumsy excuses about the time….

Goodness, you were rather adorable, were you not? The silver necklace around your neck fit you perfectly, as well. As expected from his beloved cherie! Worry not, a charm is placed in the arrow itself. Harm will never befall you… well, unless you take it off. Rook wouldn’t know where you were, then. It’ll be hard for him to protect you, then.

That silver chain looked gorgeous around your neck, on that tender, soft skin of yours…

You couldn’t blame Rook for wondering how his own silver arrows would look like, impaled deep into your skin.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #yandere rook #rook #rook x reader #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere rook x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #protection potion ♦️ #once in awhile I have to indulge the insanity #y’all got to be reminded of why y’all are dubbed as victims #BE SUBJECTED TO MY WRITING MWAHSHAHHAHAHAHA

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I’m not sure if you play or know genshin impact (if you don’t then ignore this request)

Can I have dorm leaders and vice dorm leaders with a shenhe like reader?

Especially their reaction to hearing her backstory from an opera.

Shenhe Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Its one thing to have the love of your life be a skilled fighter, agile, and stoic. But its another thing entirely when an opera plays in your head about their life story every time they walk in a room. Now some who feel inclined to the idea of this fantasy of love being a romcom with violent undertones versus the ones that are actively ignoring their growing insanity when it comes to you:

Trey Clover

“...You’ve got your own soundtrack huh? Sounds about right.”

Fully expects you, the object of his affections to have your own soundtrack anyway

He often hums along and even when you’re no where around 

He thinks about how your romance will play in this one

Ruggie Bucci

“...I-it’s probably just the wind?”

Probably attempts to avoid you before admitting to himself that he just can’t live without you

And if he can afford it no doubt ramping up his aggression on those he deems a threat

He might not connect the dots that the opera is about you until he’s buried his first body

Maybe it’ll stop when the ending changes

Jade Leech

“That’s certaintly not boring.”

It makes him irritated for awhile

How is he supposed to stalk you if he can’t hear himself correctly+

But eventually he realizes the benefit and starts leaning into that more

He’ll charm you in the end by force if he has to

Lilia Vanrouge

“Haha just leave it to my crane to be the soundtrack of my heart!”

Fully accepts it

Likes riffing to it with his guitar 

But he loves the song and of course he loves the story

Wonders if he can add to it when you realize you’ve+ become his

Jamil Viper

“I…really am twisted.”

Considers this his last straw

Tiredly resigns to this being his life 

Since he’s already decided to chase after you wholeheartedly

At least after hearing it for the 100th time he’ll gather its about you

And he yearns to be apart of your happy ending

Rook Hunt

“Aah my mon filou is here!”

Accepts it completely

Uses it as a radar to find you stalk you

Even when you are well aware of his nasty habit he can always find you with it

He’ll listen to the story and begin to subtly express his newfound obsession with the crane

#yandere ruggie bucchi #yandere ruggie bucci #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yanderes #yandere twst #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere jamil viper #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia x reader #yandere lilia #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade x reader #yandere trey clover x reader #yandere trey clover #yandere twst x reader #yandere ruggie x reader

[kikyan]

Humiliation

CW: Smut, 18+ Content, Vil/Rook/Reader, Slight bondage, not really yandere-like, nasty rook, dom vil, honestly idk what else to tag. . .

A/N: Take these crumbs while I finish a Leona fic -

It was after the VDC, Neige and his group at Royal Sword Academy took the win leaving Vil and the others at NRC with a staggering defeat. They had nobody else but Rook to blame. Leaving them with a look of shame on their faces, everybody made haste to their dorms.

Vil sat on a cushioned seat with [Reader] sitting on his lap. Though they were sitting, their back was leaned against Vil’s chest, and their neck was exposed. He held their thighs, spreading their legs and exposing their sex. Across from them, was Rook on his knees and his arms bound in a leather rope. Vil’s hand trailed down to [Reader’s] sex and began to lightly tease their sensitive spots. 

“V-vil!?” 

Soft moans left their mouth, and Vil merely chuckled. Rook was desperate, blushing profusely and slight drool left his mouth. Though he was bound, his legs were free to move but he remained on his knees like Vil instructed. True, while Rook was physically stronger than Vil, it was the thought of being dominated that got him off. Rook was desperately rutting into the carpet that decorated Vil’s room. 

Rook’s loud and breathy moans echoed throughout the room. Vil didn’t stop pleasuring [Reader] but he managed to lift one of his legs so that his heel rested on Rook’s forehead. 

“And just WHO gave you permission to come?”

“N-No one. . .b-beautiful V-Vil !!” 

Adding slight pressure, Vil lightly pushed against his forehead causing Rook’s back to arch a bit. Vil’s heels trailed down to Rook’s boner. His cock was rock hard and the added pressure wasn’t helping. 

Rook let out a whimper, his eyes trailing to [Reader]. Vil’s fingers never stopped, fingering their hole skillfully and finding their soft spot quickly. Granted the added stimulation to their sensitive bits worked miracles. Rook’s eyes trailed over to [Reader’s] expression. Their heavy breathing, the way their eyes would flutter softly, their eyes rolling back in utter bliss, and their muscles twitching They were beautiful, nothing more fascinating than watching someone he loved come undone by his other lover's hands. 

“V-Vil gonna-gonna come-!” 

A whine left their mouth as they came, their cum coating Vil’s fingers. 

“You did wonderful, my love. Now. . should we forgive Rook already? After all. . .he did betray us. . .What do you want to do, Rook?” 

“I want to see mon amour’s face in pure bliss, I want to watch them come undone over and over. I want to give them that feeling of fulfillment, I want to be inside them-!” 

Vil pushed down on his boner. Rook let out a painful groan, it was too much to bear. 

“I believe you have to earn that right, wouldn’t you agree, [Reader].” 

“Y-yeah. . .I worked hard. . .” 

“That’s right, they worked hard as our manager, and all their hard work went to waste because Rook had someone else in his mind. . .” 

Vil undid his trousers, revealing his hard cock. Giving it some light pumps to spread his pre-cum over his dick. Lining it perfectly against [Reader’s] hole, pushing it in until he bottomed out. A sigh of relief left Vil the moment he noticed their walls tightening on his dick. Starting off with deep and sensual thursts, Vil looked at Rook who looked all the more intrigued. Seeing Vil, beautiful Vil fuck someone he loved, god was it hot. 

“Rook. . .w-why don’t you come here. . .” 

Rook crawled on all fours to where Vil sat, getting closer to [Reader’s] exposed sex and Vil’s cock thrusting inside them. 

“You see the type to enjoy pleasing them while they’re getting fucked, so why not lick?” 

A heavy groan left his mouth and he began to do just that. Rook’s tongue skillfully went over [Reader’s] sensitive bits, licking, sucking, and teasing. Not to mention sometimes he’d go down to give Vil some treatment as well. Fondling his balls and giving kitten licks to dick mid-thrust. Though he mostly focused on [Reader]. Their hand trailed down to Rook’s hair and grabbed a fistful. Pushing Rook forward and up against their sex, he inhaled deeply before continuing his job. It wasn’t long before Vil’s thrusts became sloppy, audible sounds being heard. His speed was increasing as Rook’s teasing was getting harsher. At some point, Rook began to use Vil’s leg as a way to get himself off as well. 

“F-Fuck!F-Feel so fucking g-good! V-Vil right there!! Rook. . .k-keep going!ngh!” 

[Reader] let out a powerful orgasm, coating Vil’s pretty dick in cum. Rook managed to come as well, staining his clothes and leaving a wet spot on Vil’s pants. Vil pulled out just in time, his cock resting on Rook’s face and his cum dirting Rook’s face. Rook stuck his tongue out and licked the cum off. 

“How humiliating. . have you learned your punishment, Rook?” 

Rook’s flushed face smiled at both Vil and [Reader] who looked exhausted but peered down to hear his answer. How could a punishment be so rewarding? 

“Oui. I can’t wait for my second punishment~”

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #kikyan #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere rook hunt #yandere smut #twst smut #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #yandere x reader #vil smut #rook smut

[merakiui]

11:11 — sugar dew sewn anew.

yandere!rook hunt x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, violence, murder/death of reader, description of blood/injuries, rook is rather morbid and creepy in this fic note - this fic is the result of a character fic poll, in which rook was the winner.

“You wear a very forlorn face when you paint, mon cher.”

You swivel on the stool, legs unfolding at the ankles, to properly peer past the easel at the man who sits in a gold-and-white satin chair, backdropped by various animal heads. They’re mounted with such care, each one organized according to where it lies on the food chain. They almost form a pyramid when you look at them from where you’re seated. From a dusky brown house mouse to a pitch-black crow, the heads range in species and size, all arranged on a vermillion wall. 

The biggest one, sitting in the very center of the display, right above your client’s head, is a chestnut-colored buck with a pair of magnificent antlers curling from its scalp. From where Rook sits, it almost looks like those horns are sprouting from his head. Contemplating the discrepancies between man and buck, you swirl your brush through a muddy cup of water and survey the rest of the aureate placards until you reach the top.

There’s a mount lacking a head. 

It was the first thing you took notice of after stepping through the halls of this quaint cabin to reach the sitting room. Although, after spending hours enclosed in cedarwood walls, it feels more like a trophy room—a place meant to showcase the spoils of every hunt rather than welcome people with disarming decorations. 

Rook crosses one leg over the other and, resting his elbows upon his knee, steeples his hands. You peer at the antlers, noting the valiant curvature, before meeting his verdant stare. A grin slowly sprawls on his lips once he realizes you’ve caught his gaze. 

“I concentrate on my source,” you explain with a shrug, still twirling the brush through the water. “Steady focus makes a steady hand…or something along those lines.”

“And yet you never smile, even when working so diligently to bring your masterpiece to completion.”

“If I viewed it as such, then I would have reason to smile.” Your contemptuous scowl slides to the canvas, where you’ve painted two dull green eyes set into a freckle-speckled face. The beginnings of a smile trace the portrait’s plush lips, withholding secrets no one will ever know. “I’ve yet to create a masterpiece. Therefore I can’t smile.”

“Oh, you’re much too critical of your art!” Unclasping his hands, Rook places one upon his chest, as if he must calm his heart after hearing your response. “I’ve studied your work, both through a screen and in person, and as your devout follower I can wholeheartedly say it is beautiful in every way, even down to the miniscule flaws other critics often spot with sharp, perceptive eyes!”

“You speak as if I lead a cult,” you admit with a sheepish chuckle. “I’m just painting the things I find interesting.”

“For a reason, I assume?”

“Usually it’s to find inspiration for what I hope will be my first masterpiece. I’d like to finally feel proud of my work.” The brush peruses the colorful selection on your palette, settling into the green you’ve mixed from yellow and blue. “It’s not that I’m unhappy. I just can’t find it in me to love what I produce.”

“But you enjoy creating, yes?”

“Of course. It’s what I’ve been doing for years. Painting allows me to understand the world and its inhabitants through my own lens.” You put brush to canvas in a series of small, significant strokes. “So when I’m painting… Well, I guess I just want to try to love the things I put on my canvases, even if it’s impossible.”

“Is that so? Then I’m beyond flattered you would ever consider using me as your most beloved muse!” He tilts his head, suddenly more animated than when he first sat down to pose for you, and adds, “I love you, too. Very much, my little artiste.”

“Are you just saying that so I’ll paint you handsomely?”

“Why, I would never say anything that would influence or persuade your process! Just as I love sweetly and solemnly, I also love monstrously and mercilessly. The primal facets of humankind are not exempt from my loving eyes. Even the most dirty and deceitful corners of this world—I love those just as fiercely. So should you choose to depict me as a fiend, I will adore your representation regardless of its harsh implications. After all, there’s beauty in tragedy.”

“And would that make life the greatest tragedy?” You hum as you add a sadistic glimmer to the eyes on the canvas. They pierce you with their unblinking stare, hollowing your soul until they reach unfathomable depths. “Or maybe it’s the ability to love with such a big heart?”

“Are you suggesting love is a tragedy? I suppose, in some sad sense, it is. Unrequited feelings, shattered hearts, lovers separated by way of death or divorce, and even the type of love that curdles like spoiled milk—oh, the misfortune! Each is a tragic tale spun from a mixture of melancholy or the intensity of hatred and all-consuming loneliness. But even so, no matter how horrendous it may seem, I hold each in my heart. They’re beautiful because they have the unique ability to shape a person into someone new—for better or for worse.” 

You lower your arm, hesitating while the excuses rise to the surface, before turning to look at him. “I’ve never known real love, Mr. Hunt, which is why I’m trying to capture it while I paint. I suspect I’ll be able to smile at my work because it will be something I’ve fallen in love with. Only then can I consider it a true masterpiece.”

“Your way of thinking is simply très bien!” He drums his fingers along his knee, humming his contemplation. “I’d love to unscrew your skull and poke through your brain. I wonder what memories have shriveled your ability to love…”

“It’s not that it’s shriveled. It’s just…” You shrug, losing your previous statement. “The words ‘I love you’ are just that—words. I have no use for meaningless sentiments. If I force myself to love, it feels wrong. I can like people and things, but loving them is too much. I can’t cross that line. If I did, I’d be a liar.” 

“Ah, so it’s like that…” Rook chuckles, but none of what you said was remotely humorous. His voice lowers to a whisper, ghostly and haunting, as if wrapping around your head and settling into the very folds of your brain. “I find it charming that you’re unable to love and I love too much. We possess many differences, and yet at the very center of it all we’re merely human beings composed of flesh and blood. It’s a beauty more stunning than the most radiant sunset!”

You pretend to have not heard him, resigning yourself to your work as you spend an absurd amount of time trying to illustrate the peculiar glaze in his eyes. They’re always so bright, but here you’ve painted them as soulless, viridescent sockets—a dark, dense forest having lost its vivid greenery with winter’s frost. But then there is not an ounce of ice within Rook’s eyes. They are always smoldering with many things: enthusiasm, intellect, new opinions just waiting to be shared regardless of whether or not you wish to hear them. It’s a genuine warmth, but something feels strange. Out of place. Much like the headless mount poised right above Rook to form the tip of the pyramid. 

Why is that mount lacking a head?

Without realizing it, you’ve abandoned your task with fixing his eyes to start on the antlers poking from a head of canary-hued hair. 

“You live up to your surname, sir.”

“Please, you’re much too formal with your fan. You need only call me Rook, should it suit your fancy.” He giggles when you pin him with a dubious glare. “Is it so wrong to label myself as such? I go to great lengths out of admiration and support of your work. Wouldn’t that, by definition, make me your fan?”

“I’m not very famous.”

“In my eyes, you are the famed sun and I am merely the moon who hopelessly pursues.” 

“Really? Well, I wasn’t aware I had an eloquent hunter for a fan.”

“Do you find my hobby eccentric?”

“No. It’s normal to enjoy all sorts of pastimes. Hunting is as much of a hobby as it is a sustainable sport. In older times, most people would hunt for the sake of survival.”

Rook nods, his gaze flicking towards the heads on the wall. You dip your brush in brown paint to add more color to the antlers. “It takes immaculate patience to be a hunter. Most hunts are not always successful.”

“Is there a reason you hunt?”

“It’s in a human’s nature to obtain the unobtainable, and I seek beauty in its most visceral forms.”

“I see…”

“Do you?” Rook crosses his legs again, but this time his posture is stiffly statuesque. “Is obsession not the most flattering form of dedication?”

“It’s not exactly how I’d go about defining dedication… But then I suppose everyone has their reasons.” You steal a peek at the headless mount. “Do these heads mean anything to you?”

“Why, of course! They are the beautiful animals I have pierced with my arrow, whether or not I intended to. Often, when you trek through the territory of beasts, you might need to release a mortally wounded animal from its suffering.”

“So a mercy kill.” Your eyes return to the painting, where you set to work adding tiny blossoms along the curved antlers. “Doesn’t that upset you?”

“So goes the cycle of life, I’m afraid. I would be a daring fool to interfere with the balance of the world.”

“Have you ever lost any of your hunts?”

Rook hums, tapping out a rhythm against the top of his hand. The pads of his fingers fall in rapid succession: tick, tick, tick, tick. “As a matter of fact, I have! Just last week, after your departure, I lost the mouse I’ve been trying to catch for years now.”

“Years? Shouldn’t you give up?”

“Not until I feel that mouse’s heart beat within my enclosed fist.” He smiles wide, flashing flawless rows of pearly whites. Under the dim lighting, they appear sharp and predatory. “I suspect I’ll get lucky tonight.”

“How can you be sure? Mice are difficult to catch with bare hands. You’ll need a trap.”

“Mon cher, you wound me! I would never make such an amateur error.” He chuckles to himself, relishing in the cruelty of a joke that doesn’t quite land. “When I set my sights on something, it’s a guarantee I will catch it, even if I must play a dreadful waiting game.”

“My apologies. I was only passing on a helpful tip.”

You pull away from the canvas to inspect the strands of white dahlias curled around the man’s antlers. Frowning, you raise your arm, intending to slash through the portrait with a streak of black paint, when it occurs to you that you need only add red. 

But before carmine, you return to nature reflected in wide greens.

“Has my dear artiste ever hunted before?”

“No, not really. I seek inspiration all the time, but I wouldn’t call that a hunt.”

“Oh? Please elaborate.”

“There are stakes in a hunt. Life and death. Danger. A battle of wits between predator and prey. Looking for inspiration is just a matter of searching and exploring. It might lead some down scary paths, but for me it’s a matter of reading more books or taking a stroll through the town. I don’t like dangerous things, so I tend to avoid them.”

“It pays to be cautious, no?”

“Right. Shouldn’t you be the same, Rook? As a hunter, don’t you worry about what might happen if you aren’t careful?”

“Of course there are worries! That comes with every profession and hobby.” He gestures to the plastic tarps plastered to the floor and walls. “You worried you’d sully my floors, and to ease such a fear I put these protective plastics up. My worries for hunting may be different, but they are worries all the same.”

“I guess that’s true… Well, what do you worry about?”

“Whether I’ll be fast enough to catch my prey when they’re unarmed and unaware.”

“O-Oh… That’s a little…”

Rook laughs a guttural laugh—a sound that comes right from the depths of his chest. “Imagine something you’ve always wanted. Picture it slipping through your fingers, just out of your reach, and now you’ve lost the chance to seize it. Is that not worth a worry or two?”

“I can’t say. I’ve never tried to chase after things I knew I wouldn’t be able to have.”

“Mon cher, you must learn to take risks. How else will you live?”

“I live perfectly fine without the need to step out of my comfort zone.”

Rook hums. “I think you’d change your tune if you found yourself in a risky situation.”

“Define risky.”

“Life and death.”

You pause, your brush poised at the pupil in his eye. “Everyone wants to survive. It’s in our nature as animals. A very basic instinct.” 

“And despite our most dedicated efforts to stall the inevitable, death catches us all—some sooner than most.”

“This is getting kinda…morbid.” 

“Haven’t you wondered,” he asks, and you don’t hear the wood creak under approaching feet, “what someone might do if they found your corpse?” 

He’s behind you. Five steps away in this cubic space. The man with antlers has crawled out of the canvas that once confined him, and he’s behind you. 

The mount on the wall lacks a head. 

The man in the chair lacks antlers. 

The creature in the portrait lacks humanity.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a voice recorder tucked away beneath the chair. 

You swallow thickly, your heart in your throat. “I… I’m not sure. I’d hope they’d give me a proper, respectful burial if I died of natural causes.” 

And if it wasn’t natural causes? 

You don’t hear him verbalize the question, but somehow you catch it amidst the smothering silence.

“If it wasn’t natural causes…” You force a laugh, but it’s flat and misplaced just like the headless mount. “That would be murder, right?”

His shadow looms behind you, cast ominously dark over the earthly colored canvas. Slowly, so slowly, your free hand lowers to the pocket in your artist’s apron, where a dozen palette knives rest. Trembling fingers peruse the selection, locating the one with the sharpest point, and it’s the heaviest burden you’ve ever secured in your fist. You remain sitting horribly still on the stool, listening only to the frantic, slick sound of blood rushing in your ears. 

Steeling your frayed nerves, you whirl just as he descends. 

There’s a pause, a stumbled heartbeat, and then raw fear coagulates into confusion when you find him sitting primly in his chair, his verdant stare striking through you as if it’s an arrow he’s just loosed. It hits its mark, for it leaves you pinned in perplexity. 

He was behind me.

“And… And what about you?” you ask, your tongue heavy and thick in your mouth. “If someone… If I found your corpse, what would you want me to do with it?”

He was behind me. I’m sure of it.

“That wouldn’t happen.” His lips curl into a cat-like smile, and he angles his head curiously. “Normally it’s the other way around.”

You see it, then. The silver glint of a sharpened meat cleaver. It lies in his lap, where his fingers curl around the wooden handle, and all while holding eye contact he continues to smile. His teeth are refined cutlery in the light: artfully honed, yet not quite serrated, they’re tough enough to bite and tear and chew. Like a deer trapped in the hauntingly hypnotic glow of oncoming headlights, you don’t dare move. Perspiration wets your brow, slides down your back between your shoulder blades. You lick your lips. Anticipation claws through your intestines, nestling in the very pit of your stomach. Bile creeps its way up your throat like acidic fingers.

What’s happening?

“Come now, ma souris, don’t give me such a sullen face! I’ve shown you my hand. Isn’t that a miracle more beautiful than life itself?”

Your hold on the little palette knife tightens. “One person’s going to leave this room,” you say, your eyes sliding to the recording device, “and it’s not going to be me. Isn’t that right, Rook?”

“I can’t possibly say,” he affirms, dulcet and smooth like rivers of blood running ruby-red from a broken nose. His finger drums a rhythm against the flat side of the cleaver. “But I can certainly guess.”

Carefully, you rise from the stool. His eyes track you, so full of the vitality of the color green. More than that, they’re bright with bloodlust and you’ve been caught in the crosshairs of his cutting gaze. He peers at your unfinished painting and chuckles.

“Even your interpretation of me is beautiful! It’s an honor to be your fan, ma souris. Truly, I’m quite happy.”

You brandish the palette knife as if that will do anything to protect you from him. He stands from his seat, a monster adorned in gloomy garb. Like a stain against the red wall of heads, he no longer fits into the picture you once thought he did. Rather, he is blight in human form, a sinister omen housed within a skeleton encased in friendly skin. 

And he’s walking right towards you, putting one foot in front of the other, in no hurry to rush. The cleaver taps against his hip as he approaches, each bump mirroring every one of your heartbeats with startling accuracy. 

“Are… Are you unhappy with my portrayal?” you ask, not particularly interested in his reply, but desperate to keep him talking at arm’s length. 

For every step he takes, you take two backwards. 

“Not at all! In fact, I’m flattered.” Rook narrows his eyes at you, sickly entertained. “You’ve made prey out of a predator. Not many are capable of such a generous feat.” 

Your back connects with the door. Swallowing thickly, you search for the door knob. “Do you really see yourself as one? You don’t have to be one. Y-You can be neither. You’re only human.”

“Ah, but humans are the worst kind of predator.”

“What makes you say that?” Your fingers wrap around the metal door knob.

“Humans are afforded choices. We think through decisions. We make merry with our enemies and then hurt them after they’ve properly settled. We are complex in a way that differs from other animals. Predators are bound by survival, always trapped in high-stakes life or death, unable to truly make a decision that ventures beyond whether they wish to live another day or become sustenance for those who sit a rung above on the food chain. You see, we are not simple predators.” He raises the cleaver and points it at you. “As for humans, we can decide if we want to feel something when we hurt and kill. We can communicate in languages simple predators can’t use. Oh, the beauty of words!” He chuckles, elated. “To pluck a phrase from my vast lexicon: I’m going to take your life for myself, ma souris. Stow it within the depths of my very soul so that I may be the only one to treasure your rarity.”

The confession guts you quicker than his knife ever could. 

Wrenching the door open, you turn on your heel and step through, ready to break into a sprint, when heavy footfalls make their way towards you from behind. He covers the meager distance in seconds, wrapping a muscled arm around your torso and yanking you back into the room. You scream, words and sounds mixing into something incoherent, and elbow him in the ribs with as much force as you can muster. He releases you and you, fueled with panic and adrenaline, drop to your knees just as he swings, your hand closing around the palette knife you had previously lost. 

Somehow you manage to get back on your feet when he descends again, this time intentionally missing your shoulder when he brings the cleaver down. It cuts through the sliver of space between empty air and your own body, narrowly missing you by a hair. You throw yourself against the wall, entangled in a plastic tarp that comes loose from its hooks. They fall around you in noisy pitter-patters, something akin to metallic rainfall, and you hit the floor with a harsh thump.

And all the while, the mounts continue to peer at you with glass eyes.

“There’s no need to fall over yourself in a frantic haste. You’ll waste all of your energy, and even then adrenaline won’t be enough to fuel you. I’ll catch you if you aren’t careful…” He smiles at you from where he stands, green eyes cold with calculation. “Let’s take a moment to chat, shall we? I’d like to regale you with the five stages of the delightful thing known as prey drive. You’ve heard of it, haven’t you?”

“No, of course not,” you spit, vitriol lacing every syllable. Your pupils flit about the room, tracing the cleaver in his hand and then flickering towards the chair. The recording device sits in shadow, just within your reach. If you can stand up, take two steps forward, and drop down when he moves to intercept, you might be able to retrieve it. “Enlighten me since you seem so eager to run your mouth.”

Rook chuckles and enunciates his every step with a whistle. He reaches the chair in three steps and kicks the recording device out from under it. You watch it skid across the floor towards you, settling mere inches from your feet. You glance at it; it’s still recording, seconds stapled into it with every tick of your heart.

“A dog searches.” His back is turned to you, and he gazes at the mounts on the wall. You lower just enough to swipe the device from the ground. It’s not heavy in your palm; rather, it’s palm-sized and it slips into your pocket like a silent knife through butter. “And when it finds, it stalks. Have you caught the pattern yet?”

His neck is right there. All you need to do is rush up to him, grab him from behind, and drive the palette knife so far into the side of his neck that it’ll surely cause some sort of distress. Or you could turn and run. You have evidence. You have his address. You have your car. You can escape. You can drive far away from this horrifying cabin in the woods and never return. You can live. 

You can run.

“And from there…” 

So you do.

He whirls just as you dart through the door, over the threshold into the hall, and you miss the crazed twinkle reflected in wild, untamed green eyes. Rook’s laughter follows you, airy and light like a comforting breeze. He’s alive with murderous delight, and you’re nearly dead with fright. 

“Ensues the chase!” he calls out, so close in the cramped confines of the hall that his voice nearly grazes you. 

You swallow your sobs, pressing onwards with hardened resolve, and follow the length of the hall until it spits you out into another room. It’s undeniably a kitchen, what with the refrigerator and microwave pushed into a corner, but it’s furnished more like a lab. Nearly every appliance is metallic and the floors are tiled, constructed with surfaces that are perfect for washing away pesky fluids. A drain is built into the very center of the floor, sticking out like the nastiest bruise. You spy meat hooks hanging in place of where spatulas and whisks ought to be—both of which are innocent culinary tools meant to assist in food preparation rather than something killer. 

Spinning on your feet, you locate the door opposite of where you stand in the small kitchen-lab and take a momentous step towards it, hoping it leads you closer to an exit and further from your hunter, when a cold hand seizes your wrist, spidery digits curling into your skin. A shrill scream rips from the depths of your throat, surely shredding your vocal chords into bloody ribbons. You struggle, yanking your arm in vain, for his hold is impossibly strong. He tugs you towards him, his feet moving in time with the shuffling of yours. It’s a stiff stalemate of a waltz. You pull away and he pursues, his hand creeping up your arm in an attempt to pin it to the nearest surface. With another helpless shriek, you tear yourself free, staggering backwards against the metal table, which rolls further away on well-oiled wheels. Your horrified reflection blinks back at you in the shine, and with a sunken heart you realize it’s a dissection table. 

“Mon cher, I must say, you wear disarray so naturally. It’s far too forbidden for my simple eyes to behold.” 

“Why… Why are you doing this?” Your voice is thick with terror, sore from screaming, and you wipe furiously at your glossy eyes. “Please stop… You’ve had your fun. Now… Now let me go. I… I promise I won’t come back here again. Y-You can keep all of the supplies and the canvas. Just let me go…”

A secretive smile stretches slowly across his lips. “Oh, how Fortuna graces me with the benevolent opportunity to admire these special sides of yours. To be able to witness the rawness of pure horror after cornering the most dangerous animal of all…” He pricks his finger on the tip of the blade and adds in a breathy whisper, “Beauté.”

A disgusted shiver claws its way up your spine. You glare at him. “So it’s the thrill you enjoy, yeah? It doesn’t faze you that you’re going to kill an innocent person?!” 

He tilts his head. “Rather than snuffing your light, I intend to give new life to your excellence. In many ways, aren’t I also an artist?” 

“Like hell! You’re crazy!” You take a step back when he advances, moving towards you like a graceful panther stalking its prey. Your grip on the palette knife tightens. “What did I ever do to you to deserve this?” 

“Nothing, mon amour.”

“N-Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing!” he reaffirms, rather conversationally, and the frustration-riddled tension in your body deflates all at once. 

“But… But I thought—” You shake your head, hopelessly searching for a means of convincing him otherwise in his pursuit, and say, “I thought you… You said you loved me! Can you really hurt someone you love?”

Rook hesitates, his feet shuffling to a halt, and he peers blankly at you, all emotions veiled in a stoic mask. “While it’s true that I will always cherish you in life, I must also come to love you in death. If I’m unable to accept even the rotting and decaying sides of everlasting love that most shy away from, then I’m simply undeserving of my title as a hunter. If I seek the wonders of life, it’s only fair I seek the wonders of death all the same. You understand, don’t you?”

“No! In what world would I ever understand that logic?!” You point the palette knife at him. “You don’t have to kill me. You really don’t have to…”

“I suppose, if I’m to apologize for anything, I should ask that you forgive my greedy behavior. I’m hopelessly infatuated with your work, so allow me to thank you for all that you have shown me tonight. I promise to repay your tenderness tenfold.”

He smiles, stepping aside to allow you passage through the door, and foolishly you take the bait. It’s a run through tar—something you’d only ever experience in a dream, in which outrunning a villain is an impossible task. You make it through the door and out into the hall, and from there your only goal is to mindlessly flee towards safety. Tears obscure your vision, clinging to your lashes like fragile sugar dew. 

You think you see the outline of a faraway door, but perhaps it’s just the illusion brought on by mournful tears. 

You think you’ll make it to freedom, but perhaps it’s just the animalistic desire to survive that ignites your nerves. 

You think you can escape the horrors of encroaching affection, but it slips into your hand, tight and reassuring. 

Tugged into the kitchen-lab, your back collides with Rook’s chest. His grip is bone-crushing, and you don’t hear anything he’s saying—is he humming or waxing poetry?—but you feel the warmth of spreading blood as it soaks through your shirt and stains your artist’s apron. The palette knife slips from your grasp, landing on the floor with a noisy clatter. You peer down at your abdomen, where the cleaver is snugly nestled in your stomach. 

The cleaver. 

It’s in your stomach. 

He’s stabbed you. 

The cleaver. 

It’s in your stomach. 

It doesn’t hurt. Not at first. The shock snuffs the agony. He twists it gingerly, once or twice, before he yanks it out. Sticky strings of torn flesh and blood cling to the blade, connecting it to the injury he’s inflicted. Then you feel the rush of torturous, agonizing pain, and it stings more than anything you've ever experienced before. Red-hot, thick trails of blood trickle through your fingers when you shakily place your hand upon the wound, hoping to stop the flow. Rook clicks his tongue and guides you towards the dissection table, your feet dragging bonelessly upon the floor as you’re led along. You try to fight him, but everything’s so painful, and so all you can manage is a slight shake of the shoulders. Your world spins, and your mind reels as it struggles to process the dangerous gash. 

“After the chase,” he says, lowering you onto the table despite your blubbery protests, “the dog grabs its prey in a sharp-toothed bite and then it kills.” 

“S-Stop… You…” Your fingers curl into shredded skin, and you press down with as much strength as your shuddering body can muster. Blood continues to seep through the cracks between your fingers. “You… You’ll kill me…”

“Well, that’s the point, no?” Rook pets your cheek, fondness glittering in his green eyes. 

You peer up at him through bleary eyes, reaching for his face with a trembling hand. “Please… I’m begging you… It h-hurts… Please…” A helpless sob wracks through your frail form. “Please, Rook…”

For a while—whether an eternity or merely a few seconds, it’s hard to discern—he watches you fade in and out of consciousness, your groans a haunting melody in the discomforting quiet. Eventually, his hand finds yours on the table, limp and twitching, and envelops it in a firm hold.

Blissfully ignorant to your wheezing gasps, he begins to murmur: “‘Out—out are the lights—out all. And, over each quivering form, the curtain, a funeral pall, comes down with the rush of a storm. While the angels, all pallid and wan, uprising, unveiling, affirm that the play is the tragedy, ‘Man.’” He looms over you like a ghastly shadow, lips arranged in a gleeful grin. “‘And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.’”

The time is 11:11 at night when you finally fall into Death’s frigid embrace, never to wake again. 

11:11 - the mystical time at which the universe tugs celestial cotton from its ears and listens to wishes and woes alike. it is not a promise that all wishes will be granted and all woes will be soothed at this hour.

The time is 11:11 in the morning, and sweet, twittering birdsong flutters into the trophy room through a window left ajar. 

The sun has long since risen, casting radiant beams through the thinning slices between the trees. Rook Hunt hums as he works, deft fingers perusing various cosmetics arranged on a metal tray. Eyeshadow is applied to delicate, paper-thin eyelids, each one pinned open in the permanence of preservation. Glass marbles are set into hollow sockets, colored in memory of the eyes that were once attached to a brain via optic nerves. He matches foundation to the skin tone, which works well to hide meticulous stitching and mottled flesh. He’s humming in tune with the birds, the nearby rushing stream, and the swaying foliage caught up in a wind gust, relishing in nature’s symphony. 

“You claimed you’d finally smile after you’ve learned to love,” Rook observes, petting the top of the head, feeling human hair beneath his rough, calloused palm. “And now you beam brighter than the sun outside! Perhaps it’s because of me? You’ve always been so honest with your heart. It’s a facet I most adore.”

His gaze slides towards the unfinished painting propped against the wall, where an antlered man smiles at his viewer, his green eyes filled with a mysterious forest. 

“Have you always thought me to be prey?” Rook pauses, awaiting an answer, and snatches a lipstick from the selection. “Or maybe this is an artist’s ideal vision… Perhaps it’s a fantasy you’ve wished to see or a place you’ve always wanted to visit. Escapism is most magnificent when it’s comforting.” He opens the lipstick and surveys the color with his observant greens. He inhales deeply and catches notes of the cedarwood cabin walls and the floral perfume he spritzed on his dear artiste. “Though it may not be your masterpiece, it’s one that will forever fascinate.”

Red blooms on dry lips that can no longer scream or protest. He cups a cheek stuffed with the finest wood wool, palming an area that was once bruised and broken. The grisly mark has been painted over, and now it is out of sight and, as far as the hunter is concerned, out of mind. As the saying goes, before one can broach beauty, one must suffer some degree of destruction. 

Rook steps down from the ladder and sets the tray of cosmetics on the gold-and-white satin chair. He lifts his hands, fingers forming the borders of a rectangle to frame you in his own portrait. At long last, the headless mount has its head and the pyramid of trophies is complete. There’s a crooked smile sewn into features expertly stitched to finalize beguiling taxidermy. 

With a covert grin, Rook peers through his fingers at your head situated at the very tip of a tragic triangle.

“After all, prey are the prettiest when they’re dyed scarlet.”

#if i said jade's version of this concept was far more lighthearted would anyone believe me? #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere rook #yandere rook x reader #tw: death #tw: murder #tw: violence

[rendy-a]

Hello can i request a yandere Vil and Rook with a reader who's disguised as a male? Probably the magic mirror had a slip up and chose not just a magicless student but also a female.

AAAAA HERE A PEACE OFFERING, I LOVED READING THAT POST ABOUT THE YANDERE EPEL AND ROOK.

HOPE YOU LIKE IT, MADE IT SPECIFICALLY FOR THIS.

This is the first piece of fan art I’ve gotten.  I feel so special!  Thank you for the gift.  In turn, I hope you enjoy this piece.  I wanted to keep it gender neutral, so I made it into a rumor that the Prefect might be a girl.  You can decide for yourself if the rumor is true or not!

All over school, there was a new rumor being spread.  Students everywhere were asking, “Have you heard?  The Prefect of Ramshackle is a girl!”  Of course, various friends of the Prefect were quick to shut down such rumors.  As such, it had never been proven or disproven; merely speculated.  Even in their own hearts though, the question lingered.  Was the Prefect a girl?

Secrets.  Just the word made Vil’s stomach turn.  And there you were, his precious Sweet Potato, talking to your first-year friends.  And keeping secrets from him.  Vil pushes his lunch away with such force it nearly flies off the table.  Rook looks over with a sharp smile, “Why Roi du Poison, what has caused you such ire?”  Rook’s tilted head and inquiring gesture seem to say, ‘tell me what bothers you’ but his eyes, narrowed in delight, seem to remind Vil that he already knows.  Vil pushes away from the table and struts from the lunchroom.  This situation was beneath him, so he’d just leave it behind.  The only thing he couldn’t leave behind was you.  Something had to be done about you and your secrets.

---

“Are we not close, Prefect?” Vil asked you softly.  Although it was spoken kindly, the question put a chill down your spine.  “Of course we are, Vil,” you replied hesitantly.  It had been a strange week for you.  All around school, students had started treating you subtly different.  Plus, there were so many leading questions.  We’re friends, aren’t we?  You know I can keep a secret, right?  Is there anything you want to tell me?  All of it was rather strange and you just had no idea what to do about it. 

“Hmm,” a considering hum from Vil pulls you out of your reverie, “These garments don’t really suit you, do they?”  You looked down at the old dingy school uniform Crowely had dug up for you from somewhere.  “I don’t think this particular uniform suits anyone,” you truthfully replied.  “Everyone deserves an outfit that suits them,” Vil replied dryly, “and you…” He trailed off before finishing and when you looked up at him, he had an unexpectedly fond look in his eye.  “Come with me, Prefect.  I have just the thing for you.  Since we are so close and all.”

Vil has such a magnetic personality that when he said ‘come with me’ you had never considered not obeying.  As such, you found yourself escorted to Pomefiore and sat on a lovely chaise lounge at the foot of the Housewarden’s bed.  Then Vil retreated into a large walk-in closet after bidding you to not touch anything.  You wondered vaguely if he kept anything dangerous in his room.  Pomefiore students were known for their proficiency with poisons, after all.  You looked at the multitude of bottles that sat on desks and shelf space and played a game with yourself; was that bottled liquid a perfume or a poison?

The sound of the closet door opening brought your attention back to Vil, who had emerged with a pile of purple fabric in his arms.  He shook it out and you found it to be a Pomefiore dorm uniform.  “Do you keep extras in there?” you asked confused.  “No,” Vil replied evenly, “this one is mine.  Now go put it on.”  You blanched at his statement, “YOUR uniform?  Oh no, I could never.” Vil cut you off, “Don’t argue with me Potato, just go get it done,” then he smiles at you wickedly, “unless you need help?”  You let out a small yelp, grab the uniform and dash off to the closet to change. 

You managed to get it on but you couldn’t say it fit particularly well; after all, Vil had the proportions of a model and you were just…you.  You entered the room and gave Vil a shrug, “Well, that’s that.”  He sighs at you, “Have you never heard of tailoring, Potato?  Now stand on this stool.  I need to take your measurements.”  You did as directed, standing on a small stool while Vil gathered measuring tape.   “You aren’t actually going to give me your dorm unform, are you?”  He gives you a withering look, “Potato, you can’t expect me to wear last season’s robe all year long, can you?”  Maybe it was the plush feeling of the velvet-soft robe against your skin instead of the threadbare uniform from Crowley, but you decided to accept that explanation. 

“Ok, just tell me what to do,” you say and give Vil a grateful look.  “Hold out your arms, I’m going to take some measurements.”  He begins with your arms and then the shoulders.  You meet his eye then and suddenly you feel nervous, like a warning stirs deep within.  Your instincts shout that you’ve been lured into a trap of some kind, but you are unable to see the snare.  Finally, Vil breaks eye contact first, “Now I’m going to measure around the chest.”  He leans in until his chest lays against your own and reaches behind you to grab the end of the measuring tape and bring it back to the front to read the measurement.  By the time he’s taken the measurement, a satisfied smile graces his lips.  You scold yourself quietly for overreacting; nothing overly strange had happened.

“One more, just to be sure,” Vil says to you softly.  You tilt your head in question and Vil elaborates, “I mean there is one last measurement I’d like to take; the inseam.”  Underneath the heavy outer robe was a black inner garment consisting of a shirt and pant.  You open the robe enough to allow Vil to measure the pant.  Before he leans in, he assures you, “Nothing to worry about, Prefect, I’m a professional.”  You look at him with skepticism, “Are you?”  He looks at you with humor, “of course, it’s a secret of mine,” then his look gets far more serious, “I wonder what secrets you might have, Prefect.” 

You twitter at him, “Oh nothing big.  I’m a spy, I’m attending school as a secret mission, and I also have a spouse and 7 children.  You know, the usual.”  He gives you a narrow-eyed look, “Is that so?  Well, if you DID happen to have a secret, I just want you to know it would be safe to tell me.”  You only give him a smile and raised eyebrow in response.  When no further secrets were found to be forthcoming, Vil smiled and replied, “Right, we’ll just do it like this then.”  Then he takes the measuring tape and slides it up the inseam, taking the measurement.  You turn your face away, embarrassed at the closeness of his hand to your intimate area but remind yourself firmly that he is only taking measurements. 

Finally, when finished, Vil pulls back with a secretive smile.  You supposed that he was satisfied at having all the measurements he required.  Or maybe he noticed the slight belly bulge you had from eating double desserts at lunch.  Perhaps you should have just confessed at the beginning?  No, you assure yourself, it was never wise to confess to overindulgence in front of Vil Schoenheit.  But whatever the reason, Vil was happy to release you to change out of his former uniform and back into your ramshackle one.  He smiled at you very sweetly before telling you that he’d have it altered by the end of the week.

His estimate was accurate.  It was only Friday when Vil came knocking at the door of Ramshackle and presented you with a garment box containing the finished uniform.  You smiled as you ran your hands over the soft fabric; this was yours now!  Vil also seems pleased with your interest in it and asks, “So, where do you plan to wear this, Potato?”  You laugh happily back, “Oh, it would be strange to wear it around campus, so I think I’ll just save it to wear to bed.  It’s got to be the softest and warmest thing I own.” 

“To bed?” Vil says with a start.  Then a coy expression comes across his face as he says, “Yes, Sweet Potato, do that.  And when you do, I give you permission to dream of me.”  You manage to not let any strange expressions cross your face at this unusual response and simply remark, “Perhaps I will.  It can be our little secret.”  At those words, you earn a dazzling smile from the beautiful Vil, “Yes Potato, as many secrets as you’d like.  I’ll keep them all for you.”

Surprise was one of life’s great rewards.  It takes something familiar and expected and changes it into something new and exciting.  When that thing is also the object of your fascination, the effect is exquisite.  At least that is the opinion of Rook when he first hears an interesting rumor about the Prefect of Ramshackle dorm.  To think, all this time, his beloved Trickster could still have mysteries left to uncover, c’est magnifique!  He feels some sympathy for the poor Prefect and their lack of privacy, but he can hardly blame the interested students; not when the possibilities have set his own hunter’s instincts aflame.

---

Any time Coach Vargas announces a special event for PE, all the students of NRC shudder.  “Have you ever heard the inspiring story of the Sword in the Stone?” began the innocent enough class.  “Legend told of a sword magically embedded in a stone that could only be drawn by the true ruler of the land.  Many attempted to remove it and failed until one young prince drew it forth,” Vargas continued with a grin, “Some said it was destiny while others complained of dark magic, but I know in my heart what was the deciding factor…BICEPS!”  Vargus finishes off this explanation with a pose showcasing his own overlarge arms. 

The class cringed collectively, feeling an unpleasant task approaching.  “In honor of this fine achievement in physical prowess, the staff has hidden three symbolic swords in the NRC school forest.  The assignment this week will be to hike into the forest and seek out these swords.  The grade that collects the first sword will have bragging rights over the others!”  Someone raises a hand and asks, “And what if we don’t find a sword in time?”  Vargus looks disturbed for a short moment before he covers by shouting, “Why then you’re all wimps!  So go out there and find one!  Class dismissed!”

“Bonjour!” comes a greeting from behind.  You break from your inspection of the tree line to see Rook standing beside you.  “Hello Rook.  Are you setting off to hunt for the swords too?”  He smiles at you in a mysterious way, “Non, I merely came to speak to you, Trickster.”  You tilt your head, “Oh?”  Rook’s smile deepens, “Have you heard the rumor?”  You give a start; you had noticed students treating you oddly lately, was there a rumor going around about you?  “No, I haven’t.  Are you going to tell me?”  With a nod, Rook continues, “Oui.  You see…last year one of the swords wasn’t found.  Rumor has it that the sword is still hidden somewhere in the woods.  To find such a query would be merveilleux!”

So, it wasn’t about you after all.  Still, it was an interesting rumor.  “So, what happens if someone finds the missing sword, I wonder?” you say offhandedly.  Rook smiles his mysterious smile, “Coach Vargas was quite alarmed when it couldn’t be found.  He hunted for it himself a great deal.  I think he’d be most impressed if it was discovered.”  A challenge not even Vargas with his stamina and drive could conquer, yes, he’d be impressed.  Then you smile and offer to walk with Rook to class. After all, the first years had plenty of time to find a sword.  It was only Monday.

“And that’s how I found the last sword!” said a third year from Diasomnia in an arrogant tone causing a cheer to go up among the Diasomnia lunch tables.  Epel looked at you quietly and then said, “That was the last one and the first years didn’t find any.  What do you think is going to happen to us now?”  You shake your head sadly at Epel and respond, “I think we are sunk.”  You hear an interested hum come from further down the Pomefiore table you sit at, “Sunk, are you Trickster?  Then you’d better swim, non?”  You smile ruefully back at Rook, “Sadly, I’m not dressed for swimming today.”  He smiles in a satisfied tone and says mischievously, “Why Trickster, then you’ll just have to go au naturel.”  You feel your face begin to heat, “Like skinny dipping?  No way, I’d never do that!”  Rook laughs good naturedly, “Don’t be so quick to dismiss it, Trickster.  You’d be faster without clothing, and it wouldn’t drag you down.  Plus, it is so much easier to dry when your clothes remain on shore.”  You look at Rook in amazement and start to ask him if he has had a lot of experience with the topic when you decide, no, you’d rather not know.

You turn back to Epel and remind him, “Well, there is always the rumored fourth sword out there.”  He looks at you like you are crazy, “What fourth sword?”  You turn your head towards the other end of the table to ask Rook to tell the story again but see that he and Vil have already departed the table.  You shrug your shoulders and say, “Never mind.”  Maybe you’d go look for it yourself just in case the rumor was true.  Plus, it was pleasant weather this time of year, so hiking in the woods wasn’t a bad way to spend your free time.

You set off hiking on a trail Rook had recommended.  You hadn’t specifically mentioned the sword hunt, just that you were looking for a nice off-the-beaten-path hike.  Rook spent copious amounts of time in the woods keeping his hunting skills sharp.  You knew he could recommend an interesting place.  Plus, the third years had found the first sword quickly.  Most of the rest of the students had taken that easy win to slack off the rest of the week.  You figured that meant many of Rook’s paths might not have been traveled.  Maybe, if you were very lucky, you’d find that fourth sword and pull off a miracle for the first years.  Your PE grades could certainly use one, considering Grim was in charge of flight classes for your pair.  With that dismal thought, you set off.

The path Rook recommended was a steep climb to begin but, after you reached the initial summit, it was a lovely trail.  The trees rustled gently, and the sound of a stream could be heard in the distance.  The only thing bothering you was a slight feeling of unsettledness that you couldn’t shake.  NRC was a safe school but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be a dangerous wild animal in the forest.  You hadn’t seen any yet but there was a certain feeling of watchfulness that you felt in the deep wood.  Or maybe you were just creeped out by being alone out here.

You were troubled by the sensation until you reached the stream, there, the tree line gave way to the meandering water and the sunlight shone down gently.  You smiled at the open sky, grateful for the change in tone.  You’d had enough of a creepy wood but a sunlight riverwalk sounded downright pleasant.  You made better time in the light and soon found yourself at a branching fork in the road.  One path led along the stream the way you’d been going; the other path was across a makeshift bridge made of a fallen log.  You could tell the stream fork continued in both directions but the path across the river would be harder to walk as it was more of a wild game trail than a proper path. 

You considered the options and started along the easy path because, why not?  Only, then you paused and considered your real reason for being out here.  If the fourth sword did exist, would it be on an easy to hike path?  You returned to the fork, gazing across the river.  You felt a certain sort of tension in the air, as though the forest itself was waiting with bated breath to see if you’d cross the path.  And so, you did.  You followed the trail past several forks, each time taking the more difficult looking path in stubborn pride, until you heard a change in the sound of the stream.  You turned a bend to see the stream tumble down a small waterfall into a woodland lake.  It was quite beautiful but this sight that took your breath away was the gleam of metal on an island in the center.  It couldn’t be and yet, it was.  You’d found the rumored fourth sword.

The new issue was the island was quite a distance into the lake.  You knew it was unlikely you’d make it to the center by wading and you were not about to go swimming in your hiking clothes.  You felt like screaming; you’d come all this way and found the damn sword only to be foiled at the end for such a stupid reason.  Then, like inspiration from above, you remembered Rook’s silly comment about skinny dipping.  It was ridiculous and yet, you were so far into the woods, who’d even see?  So, feeling like you were doing something dangerous and forbidden, you stripped down into your underwear and swam across the lake to the island.  There, you laughed and wept to see the gleam was, in fact, one of the swords used in Vargas’ challenge.  You’d really done it. 

You swam back and stood, admiring the sword for several minutes to give yourself a chance to dry a bit before putting back on your clothes.  Then you’d reversed direction and headed back to campus.  At each fork, the trail became easier and easier.  By the time you were back on campus, you were practically running to show your prize to your first year friends, the trials of the forest long forgotten.

Your friends had been excited and Vargas downright astounded, especially after hearing about where you found the sword.  He accepted the item and left muttering about checking every area at least four dozen times if this ever happens again.  The person most enthusiastic to hear your story though was Rook.  He gave every pause and twist you told him dramatic flair with his gestures and gasps.  You could tell he was hamming it up a bit for your sake, but you appreciated the support. 

“You know, I owe it all to you and your advice on that trail,” you shyly thank him.  He smiles back at you with that sharp and mysterious smile of his, “Oh, no need to thank me Trickster.  It is I who should be thanking you.  Why, it’s like I accompanied you all the way there.  And to be there, in the end.”  You laugh way too loud and forced at that, thinking, ‘I’m certainly glad you weren’t there to see that particular end!’ to yourself.  Rook continues pensively, almost to himself, “To catch the most valuable prey, you need the rarest bait.  I’ll miss my treasure, but I’ve found something more valuable.”  You frown at him slightly, “You…you weren’t actually in the woods…were you?”  He laughs, “Ah Trickster, what happens in the woods, stays in the woods,” and then departs with you staring nervously after him.

#twst #twisted wonderland #yandere rook hunt #tw: yandere #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #yandere rook x reader #yandere rook hunt x reader

[snakegorl212006]

The “little things” they do  (Pomefiore)

--------------Epel--------------------------------------------- “Uug i can’t stand him” epel groans as he aggressively carves another apple “always nagging like he’s my mom or something.” he huffs as he finishes the final details “why do you stay with a man like that” epel mumbles. He and vil got into a heated argument again. Only god knows what they’re on about this time but it was way too early for any of that. “Well..maybe he’s just looking after us” i stated “sure sure, ‘taking care of us’. Do you truly believe that” he asked “well he has made sure i’ve eaten and have a healthy-ish sleep schedule” i replied “i wouldn't blame you for you thinking such things though” i mumbled as i leaned back on the apple tree. “Why do you always defend him… have you forgotten what has happened here” epel asked. His expression saddened “I’m not defending him entirely-. How about this? How about i ask him to lay off” i suggested “by yourself” epel asked “no it’s fine. You shouldn't” epel said as he picks up another apple “why. Don’t you want him to get off your back” I asked “yes but i don’t want you to go by yourself with him” epel replied “why not. Vil hasen’t-” “i don’t want you to die again ok gosh” he huffs angrily “epel.. Did you have a nightmare or something” i asked with a slight sigh “you don’t….I guess you can say it’s a nightmare” epel mumbled “do you want to tell me about it” i asked “.....you were hurt really bad.blood was everywhere and-” epel paused “I don’t want to talk about it anymore” he said. “Just don’t trust vil with anything. Don’t even dare.not even rook alright. Trust me. It’s for the best” epel said as he looked at me dead in my eyes “ok.. I won’t…. How about we made some dessert over with trey. I think he can make some apple pie.” i offered, which made him smile “gosh you’r the best. Always know how to make lil ole me happy” epel said as he grabs my hand “lets go then” epel adds as he drags me up and away to heartslabyul. Must be one nasty nightmare for him to act like that.

----------Rook--------------------------------------------------- “Bonsoir, mon cher” a voice spoke behind me, shocking me out of my skin “oop. Sorry i never meant to scare you” rook said “it’s fine just don’t do that again. Anyways what brings you here” i asked “I enjoy visiting the gardens in,the now, Savanaclaw wing. It brings me much nostalgic memories” he smiles “say may I be of aid. I also do enjoy a little garden work” Rook asked “well leona isn't going to do it so might as well. “Parfait! Je vous remercie, mon cher” he replied, kissing my hand before warding off somewhere else. I can never get used to his eccentricness. While planting some new plants that came in i came across something hard.I digged deeper to see something white…my stomach turns praying to anyone that this isen’t what i think it is “i suppose i made that one too shallow” Rook spoke which made me jump, tripping on the water hose making me fall. Rook grabbed that white thing and to my horror. It was a human femur “you know this place was the original garden Vil and i use to bury our victims to sustain the plants. We kinda stolen this from Roi de Fort and his crime schemes” rook said as he examines the bone “Don’t worry. You weren’t buried here. But if you desire it mon cher-” Rook stated as he look down at me “nonononononono. I'm fine. Just put that back i i need to go-” i replied then he laughs “you have that same reaction too~ ma parole, is this what you call daja vu. Not to worry. I’ll finish this from here” Rook reasured as he picks up the shovel and buries back the bone. I left for him to continue hiding that….”how many bodies are even on this property”

------------Vil------------------------------------------ “Vil, are you here” I asked as I entered the wing. Apparently he hasn't been himself lately even got epel concerned. Rook asked me to go have a chat with him. Make him feel better I suppose. “vil.Are you alright” I asked, waiting for some signs. When there was no answer I pulled out the necklace from my shirt and followed the vibrations. This leads me to his room. I knocked “vil. Is something wrong” i asked. The door opened to see vil looking less than himself. His hair all shriveled, eyeliner running down from his eyes overall he looks pitiful. “Is there anything i could do” i asked and he sighed “just….sit down” he said sounding more irritated. Did epel and him get into another argument? I entered his room to see a mess. But I ignored it and sat on the bed. Vil walks to the vanity and starts his nightly routine in silence. “You know. You look like someone i knew” Vil said as he brushed out his hair “you know i feel like this’ll be a common occurrence” i replied which made him smile a little “what were they like” i asked “Schön…” he smiled as he finished up. “What happened to them” I asked “oh, it was an accident…” he replied rather quickly “that’s all you need to know.” he said as he turns off the lights “if you wouldn't mind. Can you stay here tonight? I’ve been having trouble sleeping as of late. Perhaps you can keep me company.afterall you did come here to make me feel better” he asked. I thought about it and nod “nothing funny ok” I replied. He grabs my hand and lays down next to me. I took off my shoes and slept next to him.  I was awakened by a shift on the bed. I couldn't open my eyes or even move but all i heard was soft sobs as tears on my chest “i'm sorry... I’m so sorry…” I heard vil say “this won’t happen. Not again” he adds as he holds me tight “I promise.I will obtain that happily ever after you so desire. Things will return to normal….I promise” Vil mumbles more as I feel his grip tighten “I’m not letting you relive that nightmare...Not again…”

#twisted wonderland haunted au #twisted wonderland ghost au #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere vil x reader #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere rook x reader #yandere epel felmier x reader #yandere epel x reader

[opera-house-twisted-wonderland]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫...♡

Requested by no one, the idea just came to mind.

Warnings!: Mentions of body mutilation, mentions of broken ribcage, mentions of blood, mentions of tearing off vocal cords, Rook being creepy, Rook being a masochist, Rook being himself, unhealthy obsessive beheavior.

My Dearest, Trickstar.

I assume you're wondering why i've sent you yet another latter, after all you did rip the other ones to shreds. Which i must say, the burning blaze of your hatred warmed my aching heart, positively so! Althought these tears you shed last night after you had just craddled Monsieur Fuzzball to his slumber were quite touching, were you upset at my latest latter placement? If it's a yes, i do beg your forgiveness mon lapin. I suppose that i should be more mindful of my actions in the future, but rest assured, I've risked your bed stand off from my dairy as a suitable option!

Oh dear, it seems i've been getting quite side tracked, did i not? My deepest apologizes. But back to the reason why i sent you this latter... Well, it is quite obvious! I'm absolutely and madly inlove with you! J'taime Mon Chou!

You're the apple of my eye, the blood that pumps in my vains and the air that floods my longs. Without you, i am nothing. I wish to marry you, i wish to embrace you in the dark of the night, for you to wrap your fingers around my neck and tear off my vocal cords with your bloodied nails so i'll never be able to profess to another. I wish you to tear my chest open, and i'll of course help you keep the wound open with my hands and crack my ribcage bones in pieces so you'll be able to gaze upon my heart as it pulses. The heart that only beats for you, and only you Mon Canard. Would you smile? Would you gaze upon me with the same love i carry for you as you craddle my cold corpse? While my eyes get clouded and stuck staring at you for eternity? I wonder.

By your darling admirer, Le chasseur d’amour.

#Yandere Rook Hunt #Yandere Rook Hunt x reader #Rook Hunt x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #Twisted Wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Yandere Rook x reader

[thelonelyme]

♧𝐓𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞♧

.

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞: ディズニー ツイステッドワンダーランド[Twisted Wonderland]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐨/𝐢: Rook Hunt, mc.

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: A letter for you♡ [mc x Yanderish Rook Hunt]

𝐀𝐕𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐄: GN. Reader., this writing will contain themes vaguely yandere, stalking explicit, gore descriptions, mild anguish towards the end, implicit mentions of murder, slightly suggestive themes. I also wanted to take a few seconds to apologize for my prolonged absence. I lost my motivation to write, and my schedule quadrupled. I just wanted to say that I love you all♡.

"To my dear dove,

the purest and most majestic of all, who with your white feathers cradles my eyes at their close with the wonder of your angelic face.

Whenever I find myself passing by the lion’s little hiding place I find myself comparing- nay, no, no flower could be put on a par with your presence, no bewitching smell could be compared to yours, No petal could even be compared to your eyes, no pistil could be as yellow and bright as your smile, which illuminates the room every time you enter.

Whenever my sight catches your figure, my heart beats racing against my chest, as if it wanted to come out tearing the weak and thin skin to pulsate before your sight, to make you understand how much I suffer from love.

My breath gets thin, I feel like I’m dying every time I see you talking to your silly friends, I hear my pupils widen and my ears shriek when I hear the recognizable sound of your steps, the breath increases as well as the promodial hunger I feel at the sight of your juicy neck uncovered by the blouse, so tempting and inviting that every part of my being boils to taste even a piece of you.

I’d like you to invite me.

I feel the sweat forming and the heat accumulating under the surface of my gloves every time I see the position in which you sleep, how you move in your sleep and how you whisper gently while you dream sweet dreams.

A creature so vulnerable and so attached I could have slipped into your room so many times, but I didn’t.

I would tear out my every single vocal string just to show how they would still be able to sing the endless hatreds I wrote for you, I would take and gouge out my eyes so that you could put them down as a trophy, so I can continue to admire you endlessly, I’d like to give you my arms, legs, body, mind and essence.

You deserve it all.

I see and feel as the fingertips become clearer every time you hold your dear friend’s arms every time he is about to take flight during lessons with Vargas; and, like you, I also feel my fingers clenching against each other, sometimes creating small crescents on my palm scratched by scars, and the slight pain only increases the expectation of your divine attentions.

Hands shaking as I hang up photos so intimate and deprived of you, of your most personal moments.

What a heart, what magnanimity!

What an honor mine is!

To be able to capture you in such carefree moments and so bare you just so that I can imprint those moments in immortal photos!

Letting a humble man like me have the privilege of watching you constantly, letting me free you from the various burdens you didn’t even know you had- but don’t worry, I will always solve everything, you will never have to worry as long as I watch over you, my angel.

Although sometimes I wonder if you’re trying to feel my patience in any way. Letting the filthy hands of those parasites touch your perfect skin in its imperfections, how naughty you are, love.

But I bear no grudge, I could never! It would be sacrilege, blasphemy!

I’ve always wondered what’s going on in your pretty little head, and I’m desperate for the way you cry alone in your room, and I almost want to break through that thin glass barrier to distract you from what hurt you so much, so that I can make you understand that for you I will always be there and anyway, to console you, to drink from your tears and take responsibility for an act as low as those I have always done.

For you I’ll be yours.

And for a while, you even made me think you might be a hallucination, you know?

Every part of you screams to perfection, to sweetness and to a beauty that not even Vil could reach.

The way your breathing is so slow and calm unlike mine makes me feverish and terribly desperate.

Ah, how I wish your sweet hands could learn my body as I would with yours.. Angelic hands that would explore my every vulnerability, learning to know me like I know you, with the love that only two lovers can feel.

The way you eat, the scars you try to avoid showing, your fears, your dislikes, pleasures, desires! Everything about you makes me tremble as I write!

And your voice.. don’t even get me started!

Is it a sweet call from heaven? Or is it a poisonous trap covered with thick and sweet honey?

I hope this letter finds you in excellent-"

The pen stopped suddenly, the black ink that was dripping from the tip of the pen creating small spots on the parchment end. The man scribbled, erasing those last words.

It wasn’t a worthy enough way to end his hatreds, and he wanted to keep writing until the ink was finished, until every page in his room had been used.

"No, it doesn’t work. Maybe I should write more." He muttered, getting out of his chair. "Ah, but I could write pages, books about their magnificence!" He walked towards the wall, taking between his fingers the thin and fragile surface of the wallpaper, showing hand-to-hand photos.

Photos of you, who had taken with trembling and feeble hands, who had collected with the love of a lover, who retraced your every step.

He chuckled at the thought of you snorting at the sight of photos that, in your mind, would be ugly and too silly.

But to him they were not foolish at all.

Every single photo showed a small fraction, a slight but different nuance of your personality that emerged when you were alone.

All those giggles while you were shaking your social media, from those moments of play and recreation with that cat, to those heartbreaking ones, where you were crying about your situation.

The sweet but bitter tears that fell from your eyes clouded and veiled by a suffering that no one would want to feel with their soul, the trembling lip as you vent with the sleeping cat, making enough silence not to wake him in the middle of the night.

Only he knew this side of you, that most hidden and recondite part of you.

And he thanked you for that.

He took one of the photos, sliding his hand over it and then approaching it to himself. He put a chaste kiss on his forehead as he closed his eyes.

"For now all these letters will be our little secret, even if one-sided."

#yandere #fanfic #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twised wonderland #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook x reader #yandere rook hunt x reader #rook hunt x reader

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Halloween ask even though Halloween ended. Imagine Vil being someone important for the vampire such as a king or something like that and he fell in love with a human! So he send Rook to capture them, buy obviously reader fight back and Rook has no other choice but to break both of their legs. While going back to Vil, Rook realize something, it's not fair that Vil will be the only one to enjoy this beautiful human so Rook decides to convince Vil to share reader ><

YES YES YES I CAN ABSOLUTELY DO THAT

(sadly, this didn't turn out quite the way I wanted it... sorry if it disappoints you)

Warning(s): kidnapping, you get both your legs broken, they're both yandere but moreso Rook

"Rook, come here... I need something." Vil was feeling very conflicted recently.

There's a town near the mansion in the forest. Vil sometimes walks through the town to scope out potential... sacrifices. With an umbrella in his hand, he'll walk through the town, searching for beautiful humans to drain the blood of once night falls. Beauty is wasted on humans, before long they'll decay... it's almost cruel to give them such beauty.

Though, one day, as he was searching for humans to drain, one bumped into him. They apologized immediately, multiple times... and Vil saw their face, it was... beautiful, almost in an ethereal way, almost as if they were a vampire, but they were clearly walking in the daylight, unharmed.

"Oui? Whatever could you need, Vil?" Rook asked, bowing before Vil.

"I met a human a while ago- (Y/N), I believe their name was. I want you to bring them to me."

"If you allow me to, may I ask why?"

"...I've fallen in love with them."

Someone knocked on your door.

You didn't want to stop reading your book, but you're a... shall we say, polite person. You reluctantly put your book down, and walked to the door.

The man standing there... he was wearing a floral pattern suit, a black hat with a black feather, and a cape... his hair was short and blonde, and his eyes were a bright green.

"Greetings, ma chéri. May I come in?" He asked.

"What? N-no! Who are you?" You asked, not wanting to let a complete stranger in your home.

"Ah, of course, my apologies for not introducing myself to you... my name is Rook Hunt, and I have some... important business to speak to you about~"

"...what kind of business...?" You cautiously asked.

"May I come inside?"

"I already said no! Just tell me what's going on here!" You demanded.

"Goodness, such defensiveness!" Rook looked surprised. "I assure you there's no reason to be frightened, chéri! As I said, I simply wish to talk with you, is that so much to ask?"

"W-we can talk like this." You told him. "You don't have to come inside."

"In that case, perhaps you would like to come outside." Rook suggested. You shook your head to tell him 'no way am I doing that'. "Ah... well, I suppose it is what it i-" Rook stopped for a moment. "Is that a ring?"

"Hm? Oh! Um, yes, it is." You said, looking at the ring on your finger.

"May I see the ring closer?"

"Oh, sure." You said, not seeing any harm in it.

Rook grabbed your hand, closely examining the blood-red ruby gemstone that adorned it.

And then he pulled you outside.

"You see, my dear, he has quite the liking to you as of late." Rook explained. "He personally asked me to bring you to him."

You immediately knew something was wrong, so you tried to get away, but Rook's grip on you was... inhuman.

"My my, what's wrong?" He asked. "You have no reason to be scared. In fact, you should be delighted! Vil Schoenheit, prince of vampires, has fallen in love with a human such as yourself! You should feel lucky..."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Vampires?! No, that can't be true! Your town has many legends of them, and people do disappear under mysterious circumstances often, but... vampires can't be real...! Right?

"Ah, poor human, dazed, confused, not understanding their situation..." Rook lamented. "You struggle, even though a being higher than yourself has fallen in love with you... I wish I could understand the mind of a human..."

Rook tried to drag you away. He tried to bring you to what is certainly your death. You fought back despite the fact that you knew he was much stronger than you, you tried to get away from him, you tried to survive.

"Quelle bêtise..." Rook sighed. "Why do you continue resisting?" He pushed you to the ground and grabbed your legs. "Believe me, I would much rather not use violence, but... I suppose it is necessary..."

The pain was almost unbearable.

Both of your legs were broken, Rook was dragging you along with him as if he didn't even care about the pain you were in.

He had a tight grip on your ankle, you were lying on the ground as he pulled you along. You felt every bump in the ground, every tiny stick, every little seed, bugs were for sure biting you, what an awful night.

Your legs smelled of blood.

Rook found it increasingly hard to ignore. No vampire could truly ignore the scent of blood, no matter how strong their willpower is... so every now and again, Rook would look back at you to remind himself that this human was for Vil and Vil alone.

But eventually... he saw something in you. He realized you were exactly as beautiful as Vil had said. You were an enigmatically beautiful human...

It's unfair that Vil gets to have you all to himself.

"Vil, I have brought you your human." Rook bowed. "They are in the guest room. Unfortunately, they resisted quite a lot, and I regrettably had to break both of their legs. I'm very sorry."

"Well... I suppose the important part is that they're here now." Vil said. "You said they're in the guest room? I'm going to go see them."

"Ah! Before you do, may I suggest something?"

"...what is it?" Vil asked, glaring at Rook.

"Perhaps we can share the human?" Rook said. "While bringing them here to you, I realized that I felt the same way about them as you described." He explained. "A feeling I can only describe as love."

"And your solution is to... share them?" Vil asked.

"Yes. It's better than the alternative of them being oh so horribly lonely all day when you have important businesses to attend to, isn't it? And wouldn't it be better to have them be watched over every day? If not, then they could attempt escape! Though, I'm not sure why they would... they should realize they're in quite the lucky position!"

"I guess I'll take you up on your offer. I know if I don't you'll just keep whining about it..."

With a pair of broken legs, you were completely at their mercy. Whatever they do to you, you'll just have to bare with it.

Whatever they choose to do to you, you can't do anything about it.

You're theirs, now and forever.

#vil schoenheit #rook hunt #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #yandere rook hunt #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #yandere rook x reader #yandere vil x reader #yandere rook #yandere vil

[married-to-google-translater]

Yandere Rook Hunt

Rook would love your art.

Indeed he would.

A beautiful person who makes beautiful art…

It would be like a dream.

That would be one of the reasons why he would fall in love with you.

Also the reason why he would sneak into your room often.

Rook would love to sneak through your sketchpad.

And he would love to see your "latest projects" a little earlier than others ;)

Rook would also definitely steal some of your work.

Whether they are finished or unfinished.

He would have a whole box of them under his bed.

Rook would take really good care of them.

And you'd look worried when you complain about losing your art.

Rook would be a surprisingly good actor.

Rook would get you little gifts.

And he would leave them in your room anonymously.

Because Rook thought it would be more "romantic".

He would leave you various pens, papers, paints and over-romantic love letters.

It could really go creep really fast.

Otherwise, this wouldn't affect things.

Except that Rook would get you painting supplies when you're kidnapped.

Yandere Vil Schoenheit

Vil would be happy if you had a hobby that you would enjoy.

He would see the beauty of your art.

In addition, art would be a good means for introspection.

And introspection would be a good way to become the best version of yourself.

Vil would 100% support this hobby of yours.

And I thought it would help you.

Sometimes even Vil would ask permission to send your works to magigram.

so that everyone can see how skilled you are.

This would be the only mention of you in his magigram.

At least now.

If you ever tried to escape, the situation would be different.

But let's not talk about that now.

At the beginning of your relationship, everything would be normal.

Enjoy this while it lasts.

A couple of months at most.

Vil would support your hobby.

He would love to look at your art.

And if you drew him, Vil would be really happy.

Definitely Vil also factored that into your new "schedule".

But if you opposed him…

Well Vil wouldn't directly take your chance to express yourself.

He would only make it harder.

But if you behave, everything will return to normal quickly ;)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst x you #twisted wonderland x you #Yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #Yandere twisted wonderland #Yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanon #yandere vil schoenheit #Yandere vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #yandere rook hunt #Yandere rook hunt x reader

[ceruleancattail]

*climbs up from the pits of flaming torturous despair*

HELLO GOOD FELLOW, MAY I HUMBLY REQUEST SOME YANDERE ROOK HUNT PLEASE??? PERHAPS “A HUNT” PER SE, THAT COULD BE AN INTERESTING CONCEPT!!! AU REVOIR!!!

*sinks back down*

Cruel

Yandere Rook x reader

Tw: yandere, suffocation, mentions of vomit and gore

You could feel the grime right under your nails.

Little pieces of dirt and soil jutting deep into the tender skin of your fingertips, staining them a dark, deep earthy brown. They ached, a dull sensation that gnawed away at your very soul.

The pain sank its fangs into your palm, all those little fragments cutting deep as you clawed at the ground. Digging your hands deep into the earth, forcing yourself forward inch by inch. Crawling across the ground like some pitiable insect, ready to be trampled underfoot by some unaware foot.

In hindsight, you would have been better off that way. If only you were insignificant enough to be crushed, unnoticeable to the masses. Feeble enough to be ignored by him.

Unfortunately, you’ve managed to catch the eye of a rather skilled hunter. For all you run, you’ll never truly escape him. Rook’s rather proud of his eyesight, after all.

It’ll be a shame if the word got out about his prey escaping his grasp.

The rustling of foliage. The unmistakable crunch of dried leaves, crushed underfoot. Spitting out a curse, you ceased all movement. Rook was more than capable of moving silently through the woods.

Him making noise was a taunt, directed towards you. A smug, accursed way of announcing that the hunt was over.

He won.

Gulping back the nausea lapping at the back of your throat, you froze on the spot. Forcing your limbs to go limp, flopping pathetically onto the ground. Fighting the urge to shiver, steeling your veins.

Desperately wishing for your heart to slow, that deafening pounding drowning out every coherent thought in your mind. All there were was grabbled instincts howling away, demanding to be heard.

“I’m scared.” “It hurts.” “Get me out of here.”

“Oh, ma beauté! Just how wonderful you look!”

At the sound of that ever so familiar chirp, all you thought of was:

“Run.”

It took all your willpower not to scramble onto your feet in a last-ditch attempt to flee the scene. Instead, your teeth sunk deep into the flesh of your lips, letting a sickeningly sweet metallic taste drip onto your tongue.

Stay. Still.

“You gave me quite the chase for that one! I was almost afraid I lost you for good, ma cherie.”

His voice was coated with concern, every single letter dripping into your ears with a hiss. Rook’s voice was acidic, corroding every crevice of your ears. For all the wonderful pet names he comes up with for you, that’s all they are.

Empty, meaningless names for a mere pet. A creature to care for, a creature to control.

Even without looking up, you could picture Rook’s patronising smirk with crystal clarity in your mind. The way it leans onto the side, twitching with amusement… it made you sick.

You could feel the leather of his gloves on your skin, trailing upwards the length of your body. Two fingers slipped right beside your throat, pressing gingerly against its side. Measuring your pulse.

Rook taps lightly against your neck, humming to himself softly.

“You’re still breathing, mon bien-aimé. Why do you not speak?”

A weight pressed against the nape of your neck, his fingers digging a little more firmly into the flesh of your throat, pressing onto it with just a little more force. Not enough to totally cut off your breathing, but enough to make your lungs burn, collapsing into themselves. Your breaths grow so much more frantic, so much more desperate as you pant, desperate for air.

Your fingers reach for his own, clawing at them like some feral beast. Yet even with all your strength, the most you could do was to blindly bat at his hands. Your vision blurred, your surroundings swarmed by black splotchy dots, determined to mare your vision.

Something warm flowed from your lips, the putrid smell flooding your nostrils. Your own spittle, mixing with the heavy, stiffening stench of freshly upturned dirt.

In the midst of all your suffering, you could vaguely hear Rook’s chuckle. Light and airy, as if you two were having a casual chat at some cafe instead of him strangling you.

“How does that feel, chérie? It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Rook doesn’t even bother waiting for you to answer, before he continues.

“That’s how I feel, when you ignore me like that. It hurts, so very much. Like a someone has driven a stake into my heart, and left the rust to fester.

Don’t you think that’s so cruel?”

Laughing to himself, Rook finally loosens his hold. Leaving you to collapse onto the ground, chest heaving heavily. Your lungs scramble, gathering up as much air as your windpipe would allow, to replace all the oxygen squeezed out by Rook’s own two cruel hands.

“Ah, you’re lucky you’ve enchanted me, darling. I do spoil you terribly much.”

Taking a knee, Rook lowers himself to your eye level. Raising his hand towards his lips, teeth gingerly biting down on the very edge of his glove. A pause, before he pulls it off in one fluid motion.

His bare hand reaches for your chin, tilting it upwards as gently as he could.

“Now, what do we say when someone’s nice to you?”

His nails dig into your flesh. A silent warning.

Speak.

Choking back a sob, you stutter:

“T… thank you. Thank you… Rook.”

Upon hearing you speak, Rook beams.

“There we go, Ma Cherie! See, was that so hard?”

You shake your head slowly, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. If Rook notices, he doesn’t let on. He chatters away about how hard the chase was this time, and how lucky you were to have someone like him as a boyfriend. There are hardly any noble souls left in this world that appreciate a good hunt.

He clutches at your hands, forcing his fingers to intertwine with yours. Your dirt-covered hands, throbbing a raw red. Rook speaks, muttering in a feverish, almost frantic tone.

“You and I? We were made for each other.

So by all means, mon bien-aimé. Run. Run as far as you can.

I’ll always find you.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #rook hunt #rook #rook hunt x reader #rook x reader #yandere rook #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere rook x reader #protection potion ♦️ #thank you anon for giving this wonderful prompt #I loved loved loved writing this one #there’s just something about the terror that comes when he finally catches you #and the devastation that comes with knowing you’ll never ever outrun this man

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I reread your tanjiro reader post and always wondered what would happen if it’s a Muichiro reader?

How would the Vise and dorm leader react if reader was known as a Young prodigy in Swordsmanship and is very rich?

Since Reader is has amnesia, she would always forget that she’s in another world but was always reminded by her loyal crow

Both the Dorm leaders and Vice Dorm leaders are a bit much

🖤🖤🖤

Muichiro Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’re doe-eyed, airheaded, painfully blunt, and a true sword prodigy. Always forgetting and wistfully floating by in life only really reacting to your memory’s deepest secrets. The only thing that keeps you grounded is the loyal crow that gives your missions. While you are as determined as you could be to return to your world the boys of Twisted Wonderland feel the exact opposite. You don’t have much of a will which makes it easier to instill their own: 

Trey Clover

“(Y/n)?!”

“...”

“(Y/n)?!”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you been like that?! All the blood’s going to rush to your head!”

His obsession festers from his worry

Taking that big brother role and watching out for your wandering self

But then he realizes its more when you in a rare moment of clarity speak your truth

Lighting the fire inside him 

And he can’t help but want to protect you

Even when he watches you slice at an entirely insane speeds 

He still feels the need to safeguard you

Even if it means keeping you in the dark about everything

Rook Hunt

“Mon amour brumeux! Please show me the prowess of your sword!”

“...”

“Oui, your beauty is shining even when you dream!”

You’re so lovely for him 

Not reacting to his open photography 

You don’t even protest when he swabs the insides of your cheeks

He’s brought to shivers at the thought of your immense power with a docile personality

In fact he’s never seen someone so skillfully dodge and reflect arrows without being angry

You’re just so perfect for him 

He’s determined to have you 

And he wonders will you fight when he takes you or just let him

Ruggie Bucci

“You’re so gullible! You’ve got to fight me if I take your food! Come on showing me your game face!” 

“You want me…to fight you?”

Shink

“Whoa whoa (Y/n) hold on!” 

He thinks your airy attitude is a breath of fresh air

But he realizes how easy it is to string you along

And he feels no one is better to do that then him 

Well guess he’s getting a lot more practice with ‘laugh with me’

Specifically in accidental injuries

Lilia Vanrouge

“Whoa (Y/n) you’re so skilled! Would you be willing to maybe spar with me?”

“No, I’m looking at the clouds.”

“Awww come on baby! Pleeeeaaasseee?”

He loves pestering you 

Because you don’t really react so it ends up bothering him instead

Ultimately he finds himself obsessed with knowing your inner workings

And when you say something insightful he feels his heart speed up and his cheeks flush with a feeling he hasn’t felt in ages

Won’t you give this dying fae his final wish and stay with him forever

Or maybe he’ll come with you–the greatest mystery he’s ever come across

Jamil Viper

“I sometimes think I could hypnotize you to do what I want…but you’re so flighty I doubt it would even work.”

“...Your hair looks like Kabumaru…”

“What?”

He thinks you’re the cutest 

Even when you expertly wield a sword

He wonders how knowledgeable you can be if he eliminated your chances to go home

If you stayed they’d be the perfect duo 

He’ll be your brains if your his muscle

Heck you can even leave the killing to him

Jade Leech

“Ah, I see you’re busy staring at the Monstro Lounge’s tank.”

“...”

“You seem to like fish.”

“...No, no I don't think I do.”

“Hmmm, how would you like to be one?”

Floyd’s nickname of JellyFish is accurate to him 

Especially when you show off your sword skills 

An almost mindless creature that has a sting

But he thinks you’re allure is like a mushroom

Possibly deadly but wonderfully gorgeous

Perfect for a terrarium tank of your own

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[kikyan]

Yandere Pomefiore Headcanons

TW/CW: Dark Content up ahead!! Yandere content specifically!! Themes will include but not be limited to, yandere, possessiveness, violence towards reader or characters, manipulation, mentions of stalking, obsession, etc. (I think that should be it but unless I'm missing something please do let me know!!) Please proceed with caution!!

DISCLAIMER: These are my interpretations of his/her/their persona and none of these is 100% accurate. I don't condone any of these actions in real life and all of this is purely fictional and should be taken as such! Underage characters will ONLY be given SFW headcanons, please respect this decision!

Banner made by @herestrish please don't steal my bestie worked hard on it and I love them so much :((

Vil Schoenheit

Beautiful Vil indeed, Vil is one of the characters who I feel relate to the most. His desire to be the fairest is rooted in the ideology that he has to work twice as hard for the praise that comes at no cost for Niege. Vil’s S/O would be someone who can see past that, maybe someone who can see the ‘ugliest’ parts of him but still want to be with him. Someone that can accept Vil for himself. With that said, he’s a manipulative, possessive, and overprotective yandere. 

It needs to be said that Vil is probably the most reliable housewarden here. I feel like he’s the type you should go to for advice because he tells it to you straight. He doesn’t sweeten his tone or downplay the situation to spare your feelings, he’s direct. The best way I can describe Vil and Neige is that Neige is cute, and Vil is hot. Niege is the cutesy persona, the kind and charismatic main character that you can’t help but root for in every situation. He’s literally the one who beats the villain with the power of friendship. Vil is a sophisticated and respected individual, the one who worked hard to get what they have, because of this. . .he’s often made to play the role of a villain. The one who is blinded by greed and stops at nothing to prevent the MC from getting what they want. That’s the role he plays. His S/O would be someone who sees past that, long story short someone who can respect and love Vil for himself rather than some silly persona he’s been pushed to play. Someone who can see Vil in the worst light but accepts him. You see the ugly but rather than shy away from it you learn to embrace it. 

I don’t want to say that he’s manipulative to the extent that Jamil might be, but he’s good with words. Pomefiore is a dorm that radiates beauty, not just physical appearance but how one carries themselves. This makes sense when in book 5 he talks to the others about skincare and even reminds Epel that ballet isn’t exactly a gendered sport. Beauty is how someone carries themselves, what they reveal when facing a tough situation, and how they view themselves and others, that’s beauty. If his S/O ever had a doubt, they would seek Vil’s opinion first. Of course, he knows more and his opinion is highly valued. His manipulation isn’t too complex but it follows the ideology that if a stranger gave an unsolicited opinion you won’t pay too much attention. Still, if a trusted friend gave it, you’d be inclined to trust them more. Under his guidance, Vil will slowly alter your mindset as well as your opinions of others. He’s Vil, he has a keen eye for these things after all. Vil says things straightforwardly so you know he’s being honest, that’s gotta count for something! So while it’s not a big thing at the moment, his words start to weave themselves into your conscious decisions. He’s not someone you would doubt, much less disobey. 

He’s quite possessive. In the way Jamil doesn’t want to give his S/O up, he can’t stand the idea of someone taking you away from him! Vil is quite infatuated with you, you see. The one thing he wants is standing right in front of him, he’s not letting his opportunity go by. He’ll start by conviving you to spend time with him. You’re failing your potions class? Vil can offer to help but it won’t come for free! The occasional fashion advice or skin care opinion, always offering to teach you the ropes and how to accessorize. Granted if you don’t ask for it nor actively seek it, he’ll never push his opinions onto you. If you do however ask for his advice, he’ll make a tight schedule that takes up your time and includes himself in the mix. Would he isolate you from others? No, but he would drop some side comments that might make you reconsider who you should be hanging around with. The choice is yours but he’s quite persuasive. He would never let Neige know of you, he can’t risk you becoming a fan or choosing Niege over himself. He just can’t let that happen. This ties in with his over-protectiveness, he’s by no means a pushover. With fame comes risk and Vil is more than qualified and prepared to ensure your safety. In the event that he does go public with your relationship (which he will), some crazed fan might send something to you! 

Overall, there are no traits that I can use to define how dangerous Vil can be as a yandere. Vil would probably force you to go through some rigorous training, anything that proves your loyalty to him. I think it’s what he values the most. Loyalty to him. Once you prove you can be trusted, Vil might start to expose bits and pieces of himself to you but don’t get your hopes up. Does Vil want to be worshiped? Yes, but he wants you to love him. It has to be you, nobody else can suffice. Nobody else sees Vil the way you see him and that’s what he wants. He wants your eyes to be on him, He’s in the spotlight and you’re the only member of the audience that he yearns for. Don’t let your gaze wander, keep your eyes focused on him. While it’s your attention and affection that he yearns for, he by no means will resort to groveling. He has too much pride (though maybe in extreme feelings and conditions, he may but unlikely at the moment) and I feel like it contradicts his ideology of working to earn. If it’s your affection he wants he’ll work hard and strive to gain. Do I think he may have a moment where he slips up? Yes, like in book 5, that wasn’t supposed to happen but it did. He had the idea of beating Niege at a dance competition but towards the end almost took his ass out. I feel like it starts to be futile, normal means of gaining your affection aren’t working, or keeping your love he may stoop down to using potions. Designed as ‘sharing’ snacks and drinks, he may slip in a potion that will make you agree or idolize Vil to a certain extent. He by no means will buy your love or use cheap tactics to earn it, but he may fall into a fear that you may leave him resulting in a potion to keep your love. 

Also, I realized that with these headcanons I don’t exactly highlight something that makes them unique, but I will start doing that with the remaining characters! Vil, what makes him unique is that he’s as suffocating as the poisons he makes. He’ll slowly start making his way into your life and cloud your senses. Anything and everything you do is for Vil. The air you breathe is for Vil. He demands absolute loyalty (as I’ve repeated countless times but I can’t organize for shit) and that loyalty is slowly woven into your routine. You use his skin care, you style your clothes a certain way because Vil told you. You style and accessorize yourself according to his recommendations because Vil is right. You act the way Vil would appreciate (in your eyes because I'm a huge believer they will love you for being you), and you are dedicated to him. The most unique thing about this is that it’s all according to Vil’s design. He managed to flip the table and make YOU seek him out rather than him doing all the hard work. 

These headcanons probably don’t do him justice but on the scale, he’d be an 8/10. It’s Vil, he would never show such unsightly behavior and I think that is where people would fall for it. If anything I think pomefiore is a dorm that can show multiple faces. They hold themselves to such a standard that at first glance, they could never do that! He excels at potions and poisons so he is quite a danger to others and his S/O. His manipulation is hidden under the guise that Vil is only helping you out. It’s Vil, sure some of the things he says might sound rude but he’s just being honest. His reputation does help him conceal his true behavior. His love is suffocating and overpowering. Surely you can learn to accept this ugly Vil as you would the beautiful Vil.  Not to mention, he’s clouding your mind to the point all you can think about is him (managed to save these headcanons because I thought the song Aishite X3 (I’m typing all that out) and how I personally feel Vil would relate to it on some form.

After editing these headcanons I came to the horrifying truth that this sounds like Nate and Cassie’s relationship in euphoria. . . shit. Oh! Before I forget, on the rope-chain-saw scale I think he would be chain. He isn’t one to restrict you physically, but he would restrict with you magic and potions. As I mentioned before, he’d try to manipulate you to turn the tables around, it would be you seeking him rather than him seeking you which would put him on the rope scale. Since he has a possibility of using magic to keep you obedient (rather than make you because he still wants you to make that choice) he would be placed on the chain, you can win back freedom (basically he has no use for the potions at this point) as long as you continue to prove your devotion to him! Okay, this time FOR SURE I’m done! 

Rook Hunt

This man scares me, he’s horrifying. In canon, he’s probably just a bit off-putting and he’ll be nice to you but as a yandere? That being said, Rook is manipulative, possessive, obsessive, and sadistic. Let’s get into it!

The biggest thing with Rook is that we need to see his reference material, he’s a hunter. That predator and prey dynamic is quite strong as we’ve seen in the beanfest event, he likes the thrill. Normally I’d say to run but he enjoys the thrill of that so start walking slowly. Let’s talk about his S/O, I try not to put too many traits because I truly like to believe that they prefer the personality of their S/O as opposed to anything specific but he’d be interested in his S/O. Their way of thinking and the way they carry themselves. We know he loves beauty and has no problem voicing his admiration, but when it comes to his S/O, his comments increase a lot. He loves the way you dress, the way you carry yourself, the way you write your name, and the way you speak, if you have any anxious ticks they don’t go unnoticed and he loves them as well. He’s very observant of any and all things you do, it’s scary. He’s like Kalim who sees the beauty and the good things, he just communicates them differently. To be honest, right now, Rook would make you love things about yourself that you hate or never knew about. As a yandere, that doesn’t change but his love increases by a lot. Tying this in with his obsessive trait, he knows everything. When you leave class with Grim, his eyes are on you. When you take a test and scratch your head, look confused (stuff you do basically), etc, he’s watching. He takes in any and all information possible. Things that are routine to you, he analyzes and takes great interest. Like a hunter studies his prey, he studies you just as well. Maybe at first, it was just something he does, but then it started to become extreme. If you take walks around Ramshackle and you feel eyes on you, it might be him. He doesn’t do anything other than stalk but that doesn’t make it any better. His eyes are ALWAYS on you. Taking in EVERYTHING. He’s extremely obsessive if you couldn’t tell.

Manipulative and this is also where I want to include his ‘unique’ trait. He will NEVER trust you. I’m like jumping a couple of steps but this will all make sense, promise. His manipulation isn’t like the others where they isolate you and try to make it seem like you only have them. It also isn’t something based on authority where they say, “I’m this so you should trust me” or where they use their fame to get you to comply (AKA blackmail). No, Rook takes on a different route. He’s a hunter and he’s always setting up bait but his reasoning isn’t always to prove your loyalty and love, it’s because he finds it fun. Like the Leech twins, you’ll have to be constantly on edge with him. It’s all about observing you. If you read yandere fanfiction, I’m sure you’ve seen prompts that involve the yandere placing the darling (you) in a situation where they can escape, but it’s secretly a test. With Rook, you’ll NEVER know it’s a test. You could stay put for three hours and Rook comes back saying he was busy. You realize then, you could have gotten help but you didn’t. Sometimes, he’ll leave you for 15 minutes and the moment you turn around to run, he’s there. You’ll either have to try to escape at every opportunity or stay put at every opportunity. He could send you on an errand, running papers to a teacher. Out of the fear that he’s watching even though logically he wouldn’t be in the office, you don’t say anything. You realize too late that it was a perfect opportunity to flee from him. This ties in with his unique trait.

He will NEVER trust you. In fanfiction when the darling has been ‘loyal’ (basically playing into their hands waiting to get the upper hand and flee) for some time ranging from a couple of months to years and the yandere assumes that they’ve finally given in. Yeah no, that’s not happening with Rook. You could be together for 10+ years and with 8 children, but he’ll NEVER assume you’ve given in. He’ll play the role and display signs that make it seem that he has but rest assured he hasn’t. He can be the perfect husband, and doting father, and just be a textbook family. You think you’ve planned well, surely after all these years he would believe your charade but no, Rook still keeps an eye on you. Not to mention, he has an army of 8 kids. He probably taught them to recognize signs and to snitch on you. Imagine you’re planning on leaving him but taking the kids and you tell them the plan but all these fuckers turned on you. Yeah, trust is something that comes hard with Rook (if you ever gain it), but this also ties in with the rope-chain-saw scale. He’d be rope. He enjoys the thrill of the hunt and I don’t see him as someone who tires of it. He’ll have some restrictions but overall, he wants you to be as free as possible. You won’t have any extreme restrictions or anything holding you back other than your fear of him. Funny enough, this brings me to my second point, he’s sadistic.

He doesn’t mean to harm you physically, but mentally he loves it. Physically, maybe but it’s not that common. He’ll find your scared expression beautiful and exciting, it shows how much you’re afraid of him. Of course, he wants your love and honestly, in a non-yandere setting, he’d be the perfect boyfriend. As a yandere, he THRIVES off the idea that he’s the biggest threat in your eyes. It’s the thrill of the hunt that makes that catch so much sweeter. Despite all the opportunities of escape (test or not), you don’t take them because of that fear. Any and all bait (escape or not because it’s mostly used to track your reactions) is meant to cause mental anguish. If you do bite he may inflict some physical pain but it’s not something that happens often. In the commissioned fic I wrote, you ran and Rook used an arrow to stop you. Yeah, he’ll do that again. He’ll treat you very well after (medical sense) but he’s not above harming you temporarily. I didn’t put him on the scale as saw, because he doesn’t want to take away your ability to run. Back to the original point, the mental anguish he causes is so much worse. It’s the way he will pamper you, loves you, gives you gifts, and speaks sweet words that make you melt away in a blissful state. You seem to forget that his eyes are closed on to you, he sets up traps that you may or may not recognize until after he appears to give you praise or punishment based on the result. You can’t read him and you can’t predict his intention so you live in fear. That’s what sadistic Rook loves, he’s the cause of your pain and fear.

Wrapping these headcanons, Rook gets an 11/10 on the yandere scale. I wanted to say 10/10 because he’s a danger but because he’ll never trust you he gets an 11/10. Escape really isn’t an option (unless you want to end it all but even then your snitch children might step in). He’s possessive like most, if not ALL yanderes. You’re his, trust me others will regret messing with you. I don’t think Rook would isolate you so he’s not possessive in that sense (like some of the yanderes) but he still wants you to be his and his alone. I don’t think he’d brand you (this brings up a tiny point how despite what you think he sees you as an equal and not as a pet because the mental anguish he causes is what leads you to make that dynamic) but if pushed to the point, he may and find beauty in something of his on your skin. He’s dangerous because he causes an INSANE amount of mental anguish (cater levels) but he can also be physical if need be. He’s always watching and his love is like an anchor, constantly weighing you down and making it hard to breathe. All eyes on you as he sees everything and anything, not to mention his unique magic? Yeah no, escape has and will never be an option. Honestly, I feel like maybe (since this isn’t canon and a yandere headcanon) the whole Pomefiore dorm might be in on it. I see Rook trusting Epel and Vil with you or knowing about you. They might even be the unsuspecting bait that Rook plants. If you thought one pair of highly trained hunting eyes was bad enough, imagine a dorm full of eyes that are trained to see people in the spotlight.

Epel Felmier

So starting right off the bat I’m gonna say what his unique trait is. It’s his appearance. Book 5 was about Vil trying to get Epel to see that his cute face was something he could use to his advantage rather than a disadvantage. So, he’s going to take what Vil taught him and put it to good use. Overall characteristics would include manipulative and overprotective, with a hint of possessiveness.

Finding a way to tie in his unique trait with these characteristics is simple but let’s get into it! Manipulating you and others is quite easy for Epel. Though he doesn’t like being seen as some dainty and petite individually, he’s more than content using it to get you and others to listen to him. You would probably lower your guard a lot more with Epel because it’s Epel. At first glance, I think most of us could push him away if things ever got physical. Which is why Epel doesn’t seem like a danger at first. Epel's gentle and soft-spoken nature is something so refreshing to be around with (especially after hanging out with Ace and Deuce) and is usually quite calming. Epel is sweet and caring, always minding his manners which are suited for someone in Pomefiore. He doesn’t need to do any extra work because you feel comfortable around him talking about your personal life. When something occurs, you may ask Epel for his advice or maybe just to listen (which he’s always down for). It’s different from the others because sometimes Ace happens to say things so bluntly and Deuce, while having good intentions, says things that just don’t work. Epel is a soft-spoken person who offers advice in a tone that doesn’t mean to criticize or look down upon. Finding ways to effectively get his point across without the need of hurting your feelings. You trust Epel so much and while he appreciates this, he knows it stems from his appearance.

I can see him slightly being annoyed by this at first until he starts to slip up. Imagine your surprise when Epel is single-handly arguing and fighting the students who made fun of you. Imagine your surprise when the sweet boy starts to act out, saying things you didn’t expect to leave his mouth and just starts acting different. It’s total whiplash. Once he’s gotten your trust and you start to reconsider, his appearance comes to the rescue when you start accusing Epel of things he’s done. Honestly, I can see Vil and Rook stepping in if things get serious but most of the time his good looks do the talking. What do you mean Epel scared you? He grabbed your wrist and left a nasty bruise? That doesn’t sound like the Epel I know. Did he say all those mean things to you? Are you sure? Epel doesn’t speak like that! Suddenly, he’s making everyone turn against you for speaking out against him. How scary is Epel?

I want to include overprotectiveness and possessiveness together because they go hand in hand. Epel loves you and he’d fight for your honor! It’s quite cute, brave, and courageous to see someone of a small stature standing up against the bad guys. He was raised on the principle of treating everyone with respect and you’re no different! His possessiveness ties in when others try to steal you away from him. No doubt looking down on him because of his size and he needs to show them who’s boss! Well, he sounds tame, so what’s the big issue? Ladies and gentleman, it’s a power dynamic scale we have going on. See Epel is so used to being seen as someone small and petite and while he appears that way to his darling, he has the ability to remind them who is in charge. Though I don’t see Epel as being someone to get physical with you off the bat, there are times when he sees it as his last resort (and by last I mean he tried one other option and gave up). Considering he has a short temper, it’s more often than not. He can be like Ace who says some mean things and basically degrades you but no point in telling anyone because it’s not like anyone would believe sweet Epel would say that. He can pose a threat and when all else fails, start resulting to hitting you to keep you tied to him but again no use saying anything because who would believe you? Granted, there is only so much he can hide behind leading me to a small point, I think Vil and Rook would encourage his behavior.

Vil would dislike the way he’s so rough with you but he did gain your trust with that pretty face of his. Rook would find it amusing. Honestly, he’d feel the same when he thinks you shouldn’t be too rough with your darling, but Epel is a stubborn one who doesn’t accept defeat. In the rope-chain-saw scale, he’d be split between rope and chain. Honestly, like Rook, you start to grow a fear of Epel. While most of the time he’s his usual self (the one you came to love), saying the wrong thing could set him off and spell disaster for you. It’s like walking on eggshells for your safety. So at some point, Epel has no need for too many restrictions but Vil encourages him not to slip up. Not to get too cocky and assume he’ll always be at the top because an unssuspecting person came come and steal you away. It’s as if they’re trying to make him worse than he already is, resulting in the border between chain and rope. Depending on what happens and how he feels, he made add too many restrictions and he’s always inconsistent with them, but most of the time he’s a rope. Doesn’t feel the need to keep you caged and away when you already know the consequences that await you.

Epel overall isn’t too dangerous, maybe a 6/10? His behaviors can start to get predictable but do be careful with that face. He may even stage a situation where you’re the one hurting precious Epel and onlookers judge you. How could you come to hurt someone like Epel? Surely he didn’t pose too much of a threat. Though, while he physically is strong and has a quite short temper, his behaviors can become routine and easy to follow. He’s really only a danger more than Deuce because he would have the help of Vil and Rook. I’m sure that over time you could turn the tables on him and either fight back or paint him to be the villain he is. He’s truly like the poisoned apple, beautiful and tempting on the outside but rotten to the core.

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