#yandere twst x weapon reader

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

How would the twisted boys of your choosing react to a weapon mc whose dad is stein from soul eater? Talk about a ruff family reunion.

Stein’s Weapon Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Not only is being a weapon making you different enough but your dad somehow sciencing his way to Twisted Wonderland makes this even worse. Your relationship before disappearing from the world you two hailed wasn’t necessarily bad but having a father who too often stuttered on the line of madness made things tense. Madness aside he unmeaningly shadows your accomplishments whether by his own expertise or his constructive criticism instead of mild praise. If only to make things worse he’s unexpectedly overprotective of you when he accurately dictates when you are in over your head. 

When he arrives he no doubt comes out swinging with his soul wavelengths leaving immediate staff and students paralyzed. Leaving you to push past your friends as you transform to go stop his mad-induced frenzy. 

“Dad, chill out!”

“Widget!? Are you okay?”

“I will be when you stop trying to kill my friends!” 

He’s less than fond to know you’re in a world with magic but his own desire to dissect it and learn about it will ease him…for now. He’s irritable as he observes the obsessive exceeding interest the boys at Night Raven have in you. Angrily twisting his screw as he debates how badly to mess up their soul wavelengths.

“I’m not fond of you hanging around my kid…but I’m curious how you plan to go against that.”

Leona Kingscholar

“You’re right. It doesn’t matter really. I’ll make them mine anyway.”

He’s working overtime 

Attempting to bother your father while also avoiding his attempts to dissect him

Not only as a lion beast man 

but as a lazy pursuer that doesn’t seem capable of even beating you as a weapon

Stein is bothered by him

He claims that’s the only reason he doesn’t like them 

But with him, it's hard to say

They both tend to underestimate one another 

Where Stein doesn’t fully register the height of his obsession

And Leona trying to threaten him without getting experimented on

It's messy 

And it will continue to be as Leona spies the underlying attempt to send you both home

“I’m not letting them leave but if you do we won’t have a problem.”

Idia Shroud

“Heheh from one genius to another I’m not letting them go so easily.”

Both take each other on in a fueled mad-scientist feud

Its the best and worse time for them

With them spending plenty of their smarts dissecting and studying one another

It acts as a distraction until Idia runs off to your side

Who is following up on some experiments you agreed to 

Which include gaming for hours, binge-watching anime, and maybe kissing

Which has Stein working to create little gadgets to sabotage or at least surveil his experiments

Stein gets more invested in thwarting him because he understands his interest in you better

But Idia’s not giving up 

Not in this game 

You were his prize and Stein, while fun, was just a minor antagonist in his romance with you

“This is great! I’ll get the love interest and defeat the villain! This would make a wild otome!”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Homesickness.

Pairing: Yandere!Silver x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 1.6k.

Commissioned by the very lovely @felix-the-lemon-king.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Physical Intimidation, Arranged Marriages, and Manipulation.

“You’re going to miss the ball, beloved.”

You flinched into yourself as you heard his voice, accompanied by the sound of clipped heels against stone floors and the slight reverberation of both disruptions against barren walls. A foolish, naïve part of you had convinced the rest that a royal guard – no, a general would have too much pride to be found absent from his own betrothal celebrations, let alone be seen in a servant’s hall, but you should’ve known better. There were many in Briar Valley who let their pride distort their vision, countless who allowed their rank and titles to overshadow even their most basic sense of rationality. Silver was, tragically, not among them.

And Silver was, tragically, the only resident of the valley you were engaged to.

You didn’t rush to respond. Patiently, you counted the seconds until he was standing at the base of the stairwell you’d took refuge in – not unlike the way you used to hide in spare bedrooms and vacant parlors as a child, whenever your parents were entertaining guests who had too many questions about your pointed ears and the scales on the backs of your hands. And, tangentially, you couldn’t say the bolt of dread that would always strike your chest when you heard you parents calling you out of that day’s chosen hiding place was totally dissimilar to the fear that knotted in the back of your throat as Silver stepped into your line of sight, coming to stand in the doorway at the stairwell’s base. He was still dressed in his regalia, his clothing evenly divided between the pitch-black armor of the royal guards and the formal attire that would be expected, given the occasion. His sword was sheathed at his waist – a sight that, weeks ago, might’ve made you somewhat wary, but that you’d since grown desensitized to. No part of you found comfort in the fact that he seemed to be constantly within arm’s reach of a weapon, but it was hard to be scared of something he never seemed to draw.

It took him a moment to find you in the darkness, his eyes more limited by it than your own, but he seemed to soften as his gaze finally landed on you. “You’ll miss the ball,” he repeated, his tone concerned rather than irritated. Another small blessing – for a knight, your betrothed seemed remarkably slow to anger. “Is something wrong? I know Malleus took charge of the arrangements, but if something doesn’t suit your preferences, I can—”

“It’s beautiful,” you assured, because it was. Because it had been. Because for any little girl from the Briar Valley or any other fae land had been in your place, this all would’ve been nothing short of a dream come true, but you weren’t a little girl, and you weren’t from Briar Valley, and you found very few things beautiful about the idea of getting married at all, let alone to a man you had only recently met. “It’s only…” You curled your hands around the fabric of your own attire. “I’m afraid I’m just… not very good at parties, I guess. I’m sorry.”

You half-expected Silver to frown, to urge you back to the banquet hall he’d come from, but he only sighed, shaking his head in a sympathetic sort of way before taking to the stairs and seating himself beside you, leaving a measured gap between your body and his. “You don’t have to apologize. I know you’re not used to being here, just yet.” He paused, flashed a small smile in your direction. Even at the best of times, you struggled to read his expression – not because he was overly cold, but because he always seemed to radiate that same uncanny, only a touch above off-putting warmth. At least a portion of it had to be insincere. Fae or human, there wasn’t a person alive who could be so consistently affable. “It took me months to adjust, the first time I left the valley. Everything was so alien – if I hadn’t been travelling with my father, I wouldn’t have lasted more than a day.”

It was difficult, but you did your best to smile, to laugh. Although your pairing had seemed strange at first, it did make a twisted kind of sense – a fae born without magic, raised by the human nobility of a country with only negligible ties to Briar Valley, arranged to marry a human with magical prowess in spades, raised in service of a fae king, for the mutual benefit of their homelands. You wouldn’t have been surprised to find out it was a part of some elaborate joke, the type it was rumored your kin were so fond of. It was only unfortunate that you had to be the target of their humor.

“The dark bothers me more than anything,” you admitted, before you could think better of it. “Where I come from, it’s almost always sunny. Having to live someplace without light and with so little warmth—” And so many cruel faces, and so many gnashing teeth, “—I suppose I’m at a bit of a loss.”

“It’s not always like this.” It was the most eagerly you’d ever seen him speak. “You’ve come during a poor season for it, but the view from the castle’s highest tower on a clear day is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and the valley’s coasts get much more sun. I’ve heard they tend to hold their festivals around this time of year, too.” He seemed to pause, to consider, then went on, “After the wedding, I’d be my pleasure to take you to one.”

At that, you let yourself relax. He was aloof, sure, but he was kind, too. You could be thankful for that, if nothing else. “I was planning to return home as soon as possible, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stay a little longer.”

“Of course.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought you heard him moving closer to you. “Malleus suggested we continue to stay in the castle while you settle, but… it would be nice, if we had our own home.”

Your delicate smile wavered. “Silver, I know we haven’t talked about this but—”

“Unless you’d like to stay here, I mean. But, I’d still like to show you the cabin where—”

“Silver,” you tried, again, letting out an exasperated laugh. “I meant that I’m not going to stay in the valley at all after the wedding. I understand why I’ve been asked to marry you, and it’s not that I haven’t enjoyed my time here, but—” Another laugh, a pleading glance in his direction. “I don’t belong here, as you wouldn’t belong anywhere but Briar Valley. You know that, don’t you?”

Now, it was Silver’s turn to go quiet. When you found the nerve to look toward him, you found him staring blankly ahead, his lips ever so slightly quirked downward. Huh.

So that was what he looked like, after he’d gone cold.

You didn’t see him draw his sword. His hand was on his hilt, grip tight enough to bleed the color from his knuckles, and then, your back was pressed against the harsh slant of the staircase, the flat of his blade pressed to the base of your throat and Silver above you. You didn’t scream. You didn’t move. You might’ve forgotten to breathe, too, if you hadn’t been shocked enough to let out a single, airy gasp – just loud enough to be audible.

“After the wedding,” he started, speaking slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid you might not understand. “I think you should remain in the valley, with me. I’ll build us a house – a cabin not far from the castle – and you’ll be safe and warm for as long as I can take care of you. Would you like that?”

You opened your mouth, but suddenly couldn’t remember how to move your tongue. Silver angled his wrist, the slant of his blade pressing into tender flesh. “Would you like that, beloved?”

“I---” You forced yourself to swallow, to shut your eyes. “I want to go home, Silver.”

This time, you felt something razor-sharp and frigid bite into the skin just below your jawline, drawing the thinnest possible trail of blood. “And you will.” Then, after a measured pause, “And that home will be with me.”

He wasn’t cruel enough to make you say it aloud. All it took was a quick nod, a pathetically fractured whimper, and he was drawing back, returning his sword to its sheath as he pushed himself to his feet. There was no mention of swords or cabins or the blood now dripping down your neck – only long, weighted look, the implications of which you didn’t wish to examine. “Stay here.” Almost reflexively, you moved to stand, but all it took was a tilt of his head and a flash of his blade to have you falling back into place, paralyzed. “I’ll tell Malleus that you won’t be returning. When I’m finished, we’ll return to our chambers together.”

You hadn’t formerly been sharing chambers, but pointing that out felt redundant, if not entirely useless.

You watched as he started to turn away, only to hesitate and return to you. With a deliberate kind of slowness, he lowered himself onto one knee in front of you, taking your limp hand in his. “Of all the people I could’ve been betrothed to, I’ve found myself increasingly glad that I’m betrothed to you.”

His smile was warmer than it ever had been, and yet, you’d never felt so cold.

“And, eventually, I know you’ll feel the same.”

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) pt 8

(My laptop decided to keep working so I took advantage of the moment, here is Ortho. Yes, his left hand is covered because I hate how it turned out and I suck at drawing hands, used his typical pose in the game. I also hyper fixated on this chapter, hence why I got it done so fast. Don't expect me to be so prompt in the future on chapters.)

Warnings; yandere, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, romantic and platonic yanderes, multiple yanderes, monster men, fem reader, use of some Japanese words (nii-san), violence, blood, injury, fire, hysterical strength, magic, use of the title of King, weapon use and conversations, Selkie, Cervitaur, Shinigami, Faun, Satyr, Kelpie, Water Nymph, Magic Mirror, Unicorn,

~~~~~~~~

You sat in your potions class on the unusually high stool, Grim was seated next to you on his own stool and clearly not paying attention. Professor Divus was talking about the basics of potion-making and the importance it held to many in Twisted Wonderland. Honestly, you were just happy it was a class you could actually participate in.

It was as the lecture continued that you noticed something more than a little unusual. You had been sitting at the only empty cauldron since you showed up a little late to class due to having no idea where the class was. Though you asked Silver to show you to your classes- having learned from the prior day that you absolutely could not navigate the school just yet- he still got the lot of you lost in the twisting halls.

Luckily for you, Divus was quick to forgive your late arrival and simply told you to sit wherever there was an open seat. Naturally, you didn't want to sit among the other students that clearly took an interest in you, choosing instead to sit alone with Grim closer to the back of the class. Only, you two weren't alone anymore.

At some point during the lecture being given, someone had quietly moved seats and now sat across from you at the same large cauldron. They were unlike any other student you had met at the school, which certainly said something.

Sitting before you was what appeared to be a youthful boy with blue flaming hair. His skin was a pale white that almost looked grey and his eyes were a bright gold that shined in the gentle light of the potions classroom. He didn't seem to be entirely organic, as the black wings that jutted from his shoulders had exposed metal pieces in a shining white, blue lights between the feathers told you that the wings were almost entirely mechanical. In fact, a lot of this student seemed to be mechanical in some regard.

Covering the bottom half of his face was a full-mouth Oxygen mask that had several tubes running into it, feeding oxygen in and likely removing any carbon dioxide he exhaled. The tubes ran down the sides of his face and towards his back into the mechanical wings where the faint whir of machinery likely pumped breathable air into his mask. You could see that his right arm was fully mechanical and made of that same white metal, the joints covered in a skin-like black material that was clearly built to stretch and move with the arm. Though he didn't seem to be fully mechanical, there were clear augmentations to two of his limbs that indicated a good part of the limbs were added on after the fact. Over his eyes was a screen-like visor that scrolled several things you were unable to read as they scrolled by.

He seemed to be shorter than the others you had seen in the school and he wasn't obviously any of the species you had met prior. You would have assumed he was a Harpy due to the wings and metallic feathers, but feathers weren't present anywhere else on his body and he didn't have the same bird-like behavior Vil had presented you with. If you didn't know any better, you would even begin to believe they were a child-

"Hi. I'm Ortho Shroud. Nice to meet you, (Y/n)."

The voice that came from the unusual creature near you startled you somewhat. Stunned to hear what sounded like a pre-teen boy greet you quietly. He was clearly trying to avoid drawing attention from Divus and you were curious enough about this boy you didn't mind ignoring class for a bit to talk to him.

"Right, Nii-san said Humans like to introduce themselves before you use their names. Sorry, I'm just so excited to meet you. I've always wanted to meet a Human."

You slowly blinked at the student, now fully believing that he was a little boy and most certainly did not fit in among the older students. Maybe you were wrong as you first thought Lilia was younger than the other students as well before you learned he was a father.

"Nice to meet you too, Ortho. Um... Did you just want to say 'hi' or did you need something from me?"

"Need something? Nope. I just wanted to get to know you since Nii-san and I are going to be the ones guarding you next week."

This made a lot more sense now. Every class you had attended, very few students seemed to actually want to talk to you and instead wanted to gawk at you or whisper about you. The few students who did have the courage to talk to you were the few you already knew, but unfortunately Ace and Deuce were not in the same potions class. Naturally this boy had to be a Housewarden or Vice-Housewarden like Malleus and Lilia or someone close to them like Silver and Sebek.

"Okay. I'm not sure if class is the best time to have that talk though."

"Oh, it's fine. I'm very good at multitasking, so I'm listening to you and to class right now. The potion we're making today is super simple, so I can teach you how to make it. It's just a regular sleep potion."

He really wasn't giving you much of a choice but you figured it was because he was genuinely wanting to talk to you. Much like kids tended to do, he was trying to get you to talk to him and interact with him by being a little pushy even though he didn't need to be.

"Sure, let's talk."

This made the boy perk up and almost seem to rock in his seat excitedly. There was a kind of infectious happiness to him that was truly quite endearing despite his unusual appearance.

"Okay, so first off- because you probably can't tell- I'm a Shinigami. I do have several cybernetic parts but they're being upgraded and improved all the time by my Nii-san. He's a Shinigami too, and he won't ever say it, but he is really excited to meet you and won't stop talking about you-"

A sudden error message flashed on the screen visor he wore and he seemed to pout in response to this. The moment he noticed your confused look he returned his attention to you, pointing at his visor with a smile.

"That's just Nii-san. He's getting all embarrassed that I'm telling you these things. He made this for me, you know? This visor, my leg, my arm, and my wings. He's really smart and makes such cool stuff. I was hoping, since you're a Human, maybe you could come to Ignihyde sometime? I'm sure he'd like to hear about you and things where you come from. Maybe we could even play some videogames while we're there? I don't get to play games with others all that often since Idi-nii doesn't have anyone over, but he and I play games together. Maybe we could all play?"

You found yourself agreeing to the boy's request, as odd as it was and wondering just what the boy hoped of you. Clearly he was happy to talk to you and he must have been keen to make friends with you despite knowing so little about you. May as well make nice with those who would be guarding you seeing as you technically didn't get any say regardless in the situation.

~•§•~

Lunch finally rolled around and you were excited to sit with some familiar faces as you made your way into the cafeteria. Ortho had spent the entire morning with you and the two of you talked about almost everything, from what videogames they had in Twisted Wonderland to what species was the most abundant. The morning was generally a great crash-course kind of day to understand just what kind of world you found yourself in.

You were able to ask questions without feeling belittled by the cybernetic boy and he was happy to answer anything you asked him. He even showed you how to use the phone Crowley had gifted you that morning. It was similar to a smartphone from your world, but oddly different and Ortho explained that many devices ran off of magic or had some kind of magic element to them. Your phone was different from others because it didn't require magic to work like most phones did. Apaprently all of Ortho's cybernetic limbs were also a kind of technomancy that incorporated Ortho's own magic to keep running. You were actually vaguely excited to meet his older brother as it was clear he was the exact kind of guy you had been hoping to meet. Thanks to Ortho, you had a list on your phone of all the technology you were accustomed to but didn't have in Twisted Wonderland. Part of you hoped this Idia would be able to make half of the items you requested and if he thought they were useful, maybe he could patent them and use them but just give you the prototypes to keep. That heated blanket seemed even closer now.

Still, it was nice to have a break. Even if Ortho was a cheerful young man- and you learned he was only thirteen years old- it was still exhausting to chat with the social boy all the time. A smile pulled at your lips as you saw Ace and Deuce sitting together, Grim running ahead to dig in the various foods the boys had brought. Looking over their selection, you were glad you made yourself a sandwich that morning.

"Hey, Human."

"Hello again, (Y/n), how were your classes?"

You sat down across from the Goats, watching them shovel food into their mouths much in the way Goats of your world so happily snacked on everything in reach.

"It was alright. I met someone new today and he was happy to tell me a lot of what I just wouldn't know about Twisted Wonderland."

"Who was that?"

"Ortho Shroud. Perky kid, half cyberaugmented half Shinigami, a real treat to talk to."

Ace snorted as if what you said was hillarious, rolling his eyes and chowing down on a cellery stick. You vaguely wondered if the two species- Faun and Satyr- mainly only ate vegtables or if they still ate meat if presented with it. Deuce certainly seemed interested in your sandwich but was not bold enough to ask about it.

It was while you were enjoying your time with the Goats and feeding little pieces of sandwich to Grim that you took note of something. Everyone had some kind of weapon on them at all times. You really hadn't noticed it before because it was just so commonplace but as you looked you noticed there were varying kinds of weapons, but at least one on every student.

"Wait, so why does everyone have a weapon on them? I thought fighting wasn't allowed on school grounds."

You asked the Satyr that was currently stuffing his face as you eyed the varying weapons each student seemed to carry on their person. Some had bows and arrows, like the Drider Rook. Some had swords affixed to their hips, like Sebek and Silver. Some had little daggers, like the cackling Gnoll Ruggie. The only thing that seemed consistent on the many different instruments of war were the large singular jewel attached to the main body of the tools. The jewel seemed to vary among seven colors but all seemed unique to the wielder as well either in shape or location of the jewel.

"Mmph?"

Ace mumbled past his food, trying to answer your question but almost spitting the food at you. You were less worried about the veggie scraps he ate and simply used your hand to shield your sandwich from any potentially spat out food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ace."

The sudden voice of Trey had you looking up at the large centaur that smiled patiently at you, only the slightest of glares highlighting his face as he glanced at Ace. Ace quickly tried to swallow down the food, starting to choke as Deuce leaped to his frenemy's rescue with a frim swat between the shoulder blades. Even as Ace panted and tried to take a breath, you simply turned back to the Kelpie who patiently waited for your attention to return to him.

"Since Ace is busy dying right now, Trey, why does everyone have some kind of weapon on them?"

"Those are our Magestone weapons. Magestones are used by the magically talented to channel their magic through and keep track of their blot levels."

"Blot levels?"

"Yes, blot is a byproduct of magic. For every use of magic, blot forms and accumulates in the body. Blot is mostly harmless in small amounts and can be removed through proper rest and nutrition. In high amounts, it can lead to overblotting which turns the affected effectively feral. Though we claim to be evolved beyond our base instincts, we still all have them and are subject to them on a daily basis. Overblot exaggerates those instincts and forces them to become the primary decision makers. A mage that goes feral could easily kill others or themselves. Hence why we use magestones to help avoid blot accumulation."

You were surprised to hear all this, seeing the large claymore hanging from Trey's hip even as he spoke in a relaxed tone to you. It certainly explained the large jewels that each weapon seemed to have, but it didn't really explain the actual weapons.

"Okay, so why not put the magestones on pens or something easier to carry around? Why weapons?"

"Well, you've encountered at least one creature in the woods around campus, right? They are animals that have been corrupted by blot and some are even students or townsfolk who were overcome and unable to break free of their feral instincts. They've since lost themselves to the madness and now stalk their previous homes. Sometimes we need to go into the woods for herbs, or to get to the nearby towns for supplies. Sometimes those beasts come out of the woods seeking an end to their torment. Either way, it is better to have a weapon on you that you can channel magic through than to have nothing to defend yourself with."

"Really? Are those things everywhere?"

"Everywhere life and magic exist. Those beasts are why Humans struggled so much until they befriended several magic using species. Where Humans are assumed to be immune to blot due to being magicless, they are still susceptible to the creatures turned feral by blot. The Unicorns were first to start safeguarding Humans from Ferals in earnest, if I am recalling properly, then the Fae, then the rest of the world mostly followed. Honestly, you Humans impress me to even be able to survive without magic and all those Ferals running around."

You almost ducked your head in embarrassment at the warm tone Trey used when talking about Humans. Though it was somewhat patronizing, you still figured that the Kelpie meant it affectionately as he seemed to be more knowledgeable when it came to Humans. Most others didn't seem to have the same interest in the history and just took an interest in you, so it was nice to hear about what exactly Humans of Twisted Wonderland were like.

"Can a Feral be brought back to their senses? Like, if someone here became Feral from overblot, could they be brought back or is it like Rabies and they just have to be put down?"

"I'm not certain what these 'Rabies' are, but yes, if caught in time and incapacitated- or forced to rest- someone can recover from turning Feral. If they are Feral for too long they are consumed by their blot and become living nightmares. Just because others can recover doesn't mean turning Feral doesn't leave any marks. Much of the time it is a rather destructive event and usually the best way to tell how far gone someone is, is by their appearance. The more beastly they look, the harder it will be to get them back. Even if they do return from being Feral, they will have lasting scars."

"Okay..."

"Did you have anymore questions about it?"

"Nope. That makes sense... I mean, some things I don't really get because I don't really know how magic works here, but it makes enough sense for now."

"Glad to be of assistance. I actually came over here to invite you to today's unbirthday party. We often get together and have our own celebration on a day none of the Heartslabuyl students have a birthday. Riddle made it very clear he would like you to attend today's party."

"Can I bring Cater?"

Trey slightly grimaced at this, remembering how angry Riddle had been as he quite literally threw the Water Nymph out of the dorms. Though it would be best to leave Cater out of any Unbirthday parties in the near future, even Trey missed his fellow water creature. It wasn't quite the same to swim the lake without the loud redhead riding along his back or pulling his tail fins.

"... I wouldn't suggest it, but I would rather Cater be allowed back in Heartslabuyl. Maybe Riddle will listen to you if you ask him."

"Okay, I'll bring Cater with me to Heartslabuyl today for the unbrithday party. He can show me how to get there."

"We will see you there, (Y/n). Not to worry, Ace and Deuce will be in attendance as well."

~•§•~

"You sure Trey said it was a good idea? Riddle was steaming mad yesterday and I don't think he'll be too quick to forgive me.."

"He said it was fine and that Riddle would probably listen to me if I asked him to let you back in Heartslabuyl."

"I guess. Looks like they got only some of the roses painted, in any case."

You glanced at the collared Water Nymph curiously, wondering why he would comment something so odd. Maybe it was just a common practice in Twisted Wonderland to actually paint roses. Cater smiled at you as he noticed your queer expression, continuing to walk with you to what he called the Hall of Mirrors. Grim had gone ahead with Ace and Deuce after classes ended, but you made sure to double back to Ramshackle for Cater.

"It's a rule the Queen of Hearts made. She's one of The Great Seven and is who the Heartslabuyl dorm is modled after."

"Who are The Great Seven?"

"Well... That's more a question for Trein and not me, but the Queen of Hearts was a magicless Unicorn that ruled the Queendom of Roses. She came up with all sorts of rules that still don't really make sense to me but Riddle follows them as closely as he follows the Law. Apaprently she was big into Humans because she had over fifty rules related to Humans and how to take care of them."

You hummed at this, noticing you entered what looked like the room you first woke up in with all the floating coffins. The coffins were up near the ceiling now which left seven mirrors surrounding the main central mirror. Naturally Cater instinctively turned straight to the Heartslabuyl mirror but you were more curious about the large mirror sitting in the center of the room. Something about it compelled you to approach, wondering what made this mirror different from the others.

Immediately you noticed that you couldn't see your reflection in the mirror and instead only a dark world greeted you. As you stopped to stand in front of it a sudden green flame was reflected in the mirror, making you take a few steps back in surprise at the sudden movement. From the flames emerged a face that looked like a mask, eyeless and wearing an expression of seriousness as it revealed itself to you.

"Woah! The mirror never does that for anyone except the Headmage! Look at you being all special, (Y/n)."

You remembered trying to argue with the mirror when it said you could not return to your home, ignoring your questions and refusing to answer you after that first request. Now it seemed the mirror was ready to talk and maybe you could get some answers from it.

"What questions do you approach me with now? Even if return to your home was possible, I could not tell you how. I do not hold the answers you seek, but should you still wish to question me, I will speak."

"Why are you talking to me now, but refused to talk to me before?"

"I know much, but not everything and it is rare a question is asked that I cannot answer in a way that is correct. Yet, many a year has passed since a Human has spoken to me and I am obliged to answer thy questions. I could attempt to spin a favorable answer to the unkown, but you don't want those answers, I suspect. The path you walk now is one that is true, it needs not any corrections."

"Have you spoken with Humans in the past?"

"In an event that is now lost to time, a little Human spoke with me and she was charmed by the way I rhyme."

"Fair enough. Mirror, I don't have any magic, do I?"

"You already know the answer yet insist to hear it from another voice. There is no magic within you and it is not a matter of opinion or choice."

You nodded, looking at the frowning face in the green flames for a moment longer. There were plenty of things you could still ask but something told you it was best to leave the miror alone for the time being. If you thought of actual questions to ask and not the nonsensical questions you wanted to ask, you could always talk to the mirror again.

"Thank you for talking to me. I was worried you might hate me."

"I could never hate a Human for in all my years, a Human has never been hateful to me. In my vast knowledge and memory, all I feel is happy when it is a Human I get to see. Were it possible, I would be of greater use to you. Untill we speak once more, adieu."

You somewhat smiled, stepping away from the mirror and back to Cater who was still staring. The face was gone now and you wondered if it had only shown up to talk to you, disappearing once the conversation was over.

"Huh. Guess there is a lot more to you than meets the eye. Anyways, we're gonna be late to the unbirthday party if we don't go soon."

"Right, so how do we do this?"

"You've already used Diasomnia's mirror, so it should be the same when you use Heartslabuyl's mirror. Just... Don't be too surprised if you hear Riddle yelling. He will probably be driving himself mad trying to make everything perfect. He always does."

You both approached the mirror labeled for Heartslabuyl, walking into the shiny surface that seemed to ripple in response. When your vision cleared you were interested to see a large dorm building made of red and white brick. Surrounding it on all sides were rose bushes that seemed to have several red roses sitting proudly on the surface. The playing card motif was apparent in the presence of the suits all somewhere tucked into the architecture of the buildings but it was clear Hearts were preferred due the shape of the rosebushes and most arches were some kind of heart.

It was during your admiration of the rather lovely garden that a familiar voice called out a greeting. The greeting made Cater quickly move to hide behind you again, as if he intended to use you as a shield. Trotting over to greet you was both Riddle and Trey. They looked rather different from their school uniforms and instead seemed to be wearing a similar style clothing to what you would expect from the aesthetics of the dorm. Sitting atop Riddle's head near his golden horn was a golden crown that must have relied on some kind of magic to keep it affixed as it sat crooked on his tresses.

"(Y/n), I'm thrilled you could be in attendance for today's party. Your seat of honor is ready in accordance with the Queen's rules and-"

Riddle's pleasant smile immediately fell as he took note of the Nymph hiding behind you, his once bright mood now soured by the uninvited presence.

"What are you doing back here, Cater? Did I not make myself clear that you were never to set foot here again? And you are with (Y/n), no less! If you were not already collared I would-"

"Riddle?"

The Unicorn's voice caught in his throat as you directly said his name. You hadn't actually called him by name to his face before and something about the sweet tone you had rendered the Unicorn near mute. He was quick to try and respond to you, his voice somewhat cracking from stress as if he were talking to you for the first time despite having spoken with you before.

"Ye-yes?"

"I know you're mad with Cater, but I am asking you to let him back in Heartslabuyl. Sure, he messed up. He's flawed. But hey, who can truly say they aren't?"

"But, because of him-"

"I now need to be guarded and protected so I am not poached by others who would rather see me dead. Yeah, I'm mad about it too. I would like to be able to just be in my dorm and not have to be protected just to live. But if Cater didn't do it, someone else would have. Does that mean I completely forgive him? Absolutely not. Still, to force him out of his home and away from his friends, surely even you can see how cruel that is."

"I-" Riddle looked back at Cater and then back at you, struggling to find the words before he let out a long sigh, "fine. He is going to stay collared until he truly grasps the consequences of his actions, but he is no longer banned from Heartslabyul. Cater, I hope you thank (Y/n) for sticking up for you, especially because you don't deserve it."

"I thanked her a bunch when she let me stay in Ramschackle and cooked some dinner and even breakfast for me-"

"Just say 'Yes, Housewarden Riddle' and hurry along. There are still roses to paint red and without your magic you'll have to work quickly to get them all done."

Cater quickly shut his mouth, running off to do as he had been told by the lovely Unicorn whose smile quickly returned as the Nymph left view. It was odd to you to see how quickly the Unicorn's temper shifted, but you considered yourself lucky that you had managed to talk him into letting Cater come back. One less mouth in Ramshackle to feed and one less person to wake you up before the crack of dawn wanting breakfast.

"Now that unpleasantness is out of the way, shall we?"

He extended an arm out to you, smiling when you reached out and let him lead you to the gardens. It seemed to be almost fully decorated for a party as the rather long table was set for everyone with many different pastries. You were stunned to see the baked goods strewn across the table and Trey chuckled upon seeing your surprised expression.

"The Queendom of Roses is known for many Human foods and have carried on the traditional meals the Queen of Hearts loved. Baked goods are very popular and my family even owns a bakery."

"Do you cook much beyond baking?"

"I'm afraid I'm not that good, but I'd love to learn if you're willing to teach me."

"We can make it an exchange. Teach me how to make some of your pastries and I'll teach you how to cook some meals."

"It's a deal."

Riddle almost seemed irritated at how you were chatting with Trey, but he was content he got to keep you close as you admired the decorated garden. The unpainted roses near the front were just another frustration for Riddle, but at least the garden where the party was being held looked alright. He certainly put his freshmen to work given Cater was usually the one to paint the roses given his Unique Magic.

"Here, let me show you to your seat. I will warn you, there is a mouse asleep in the tea pot and she is not supposed to be woken up, so if you would like some tea, ask me and I will get you some."

"A mouse?"

"Yes, and if she wakes up we need to put jelly on her nose. She has been fussy recently, so it may prove to be difficut."

"Alright," you chuckled softly, "I will make sure not to wake her. Where do all these rules come from?"

"I forget you're not from here sometimes. The Queen of Hearts made many rules and as the dorm modeled after her, it is our duty to uphold her rules. Such as the rule of leaving a seat at the head of the table for a Human. Even after they went extinct, it is still a rule I upheld for every unbirthday party. Now, that seat is yours."

He led you to the head of the table and even pulled the chair on the left side out for you, almost seeming excited at the prospect of your attendance at the party. As you sat down he pranced around to the other side, smiling as he took his place at the head of the table. You could see not too far from you, Ace was holding a fussing Grim while Deuce attempted to feed the semi-stressed cat-beast a piece of tart.

"Now we can get the party underway."

"Thank you for inviting me, Riddle, it's nice to enjoy food I don't have to make."

"Such a shame. I understand there is a need for food being cooked before you can eat it safely, just another rule others can't seem to follow. That's why you will be staying in Heartslabuyl from now on. That way you can enjoy all our unbirthday parties and be kept safe with me."

"But," you started, feeling rather confused by the Unicorn's declaration, "the Headmage and Ortho both said Ignihyde will be guarding me next-"

"They can't take care of you the way you need to be!"

Riddle's sudden outburst made everyone go quiet, staring at the Unicorn in unease as it was clear his temper was rising. He didn't seem to realize the others were looking now as he stomped one hoof, angrily crossing his arms almost like a pouting child. It was odd to see the Unicorn behave in such a way, as Trey had even told you Riddle was almost twice his age.

"Riddle-"

"Enough! You will be staying here where you can be treated properly in accordance to the Queen's rules, end of discussion. If I have to take your head to make you see how much safer you are here, I will."

The direct threat was an unexpected one but it made Trey realize just how close the Unicorn was to snapping. He was already on edge due to Cater being brought back into the fold without his permission so the light pushback from the treasured Human was just pressing his temper further.

"Riddle, enough. You can't force her to stay-"

"Even you, Trey? Are all of you against me now? It doesn't matter, I will protect this one human, with or without your help."

"Riddle, you've gone too far now. You need to stop or be stopped-"

"SHUT YOUR TRAITOROUS MOUTH! NONE OF YOU UNDERSTAND ONLY I CAN DO WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE TO PROTECT MY KING OF HEARTS!"

A sudden burst of magic from Riddle kicked up what almost looked like smoke that quickly coated the entire garden. You struggled to see through the haze as you covered your mouth to not breathe in the dark cloud.

As the dust settled and you could finally look up again, seeing a beast standing before you.

His eyes were no longer the lovely pale blue they had been, now overtaken by red rage. His white fur was coated in what seemed to be ink that flowed down from his face and up from his once-golden hooves. The gold upon his body had all turned a corrupted inky black and his very face seemed to have been torn at the corners of his mouth to accommodate the fangs that now gleamed and jutted past his lips.

Fire began to lick around the garden, sweeping up the rose bushes and crackling dangerously as ash slowly coated the ground. Everything seemed to change in the blink of an eye as the vicious creature stood before you, blinded by anger and fueled by hate. Perched against his shoulder was a large two-handed axe that looked as if someone took a metal heart and pieced through the handle to make a viciously sharp instrument.

"What's happening?"

You called out to the other students as you tried to go to their aid only to be forced back into your chair, vines sprouting up to grab your arms and hold you to the seat. The vines were far too tight and far too sturdy for you to do much else besides try and struggle against them. They did not yield to your desperate attempts at freedom.

"He's overblotted and gone feral! All Heartslabuyl students, get back to safety-"

"OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!"

A sudden burst of magic from the Unicorn left several students clutching at their necks, the large metal collars securing themselves and remaining unmoving despite their struggles. If that wasn't bad enough already, Riddle began to charge, axe raised above his head as if he intended to cleave the others in half. His target was obvious as Trey tried to quickly pull the vines off of you and free you from the chair.

"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF MY KING!"

Trey had no choice but to abandon his endeavor and retreat as Riddle's axe narrowly missed the flank of the Kelpie. The table that had been in front of you suffered the brunt force of the Unicorn's crushing hooves and the sharp side of the axe, splitting in half from the force. Your vine restraints only tightened as the chair you had been sitting on dragged you towards the now panting and raging Unicorn.

Trey, Ace, Deuce, and Cater drew their weapons, the magestones on the handles and grips of the instruments gleaming in anticipation. The resident Queen of Hearts had gone feral with rage and would die if he wasn't returned to his senses soon. Not only that, but the last Human in Twisted Wonderland was being held prisoner by the enraged and rampaging Unicorn. They had little choice but to fight back.

Even little Grim, who was clearly frightened of Riddle stood on guard, ready to do what he could to save you and maybe even the Unicorn from what he had become.

You refused to be little more than a damsel to be rescued, pulling and staining against your binds even as they likely bruised your soft flesh. Trey wielded a large claymore that held his magestone in the pommel and clashed with the Unicorn, magic sparking around them. Even though Cater has been collared, he still attempted to use his spear to draw the Unicorn's attention, trying to give his dormmate an opening against the Unicorn.

It quickly became clear to you that their weapons just weren't doing anything against the Unicorn and couldn't even cut his hide as he used the broad side of the axe to shove the two students he had called his friends. You momentarily thought that maybe Riddle didn't want to hurt them as he used the sides of his weapon to push them, but that notion quickly disappeared when he tried to cleave the Kelpie in two. Each slice of the axe was blocked by the claymore as the two continued their dance in battle, almost matching one another step for step.

A dance of monsters as both fought the other fiercely.

It wasn't until Riddle managed to catch Trey's side as the Kelpie reared, throwing the larger centaur back and into the dark waters of the lake. The Kelpie did not resurface immediately as a deep red spread from where he hit the water. Riddle almost seemed to be proud of this feat as he turned away from the lake, leaving Cater to dive in after his friend. Instead, Riddle turned his gaze towards Grim and the Goats.

It took less than a sweeping smack from the axe to send both Goat men sprawling to the ground. Despite Ace's best efforts, the Unicorn kicked away his Xiphos and rendered the Satyr unable to retaliate. Deuce grabbed Ace, pulling him back before the inky hooves of the Unicorn could dig into the latter's skull. As they both moved into the bushes to escape Riddle's wrath, it left little Grim exposed and at the mercy of the Unicorn.

You looked down at your binds and tried even more desperately to free yourself of them, terrified the Unicorn would kill your sweet little friend.

"You," his voice was dripped in venom as he spoke, the headsman's axe resting against the Unicorn's shoulder, "you are the worst of them all."

You looked up to see Riddle was standing over an all too familiar shaking and terrified figure, the gray fur was ruffled and standing out even as the soft creature tried to ball himself up. Grim was horrified and didn't realize that these fancy students could be taken over by feral instincts the way the beasts of the woods could be.

"You cuddle in her arms and turn her against me with your vile words! Acting as if you have any right to her, to call her 'your Hooman' and insult my King of Hearts so callously. You will be first to truly lose your head for this!"

As the axe raised and the Unicorn reared back, you found yourself freed. It didn't really matter to you if you freed yourself or if you had been freed, all that mattered was getting to Grim. Things both moved too fast and too slow for your brain to take genuine note of the things around you as your legs pushed you forward to your goal. The axe began to fall and your mind went blank with white hot rage.

"GRIM!"

Stunned silence fell over the winding garden as the frightened and confused students stared upon the horrific scene. Your arm hung limply at your side, blood slowly dripping down the soft skin and marring the grass with a deep crimson. No one could speak as they stared at the beast made flesh.

The beast before you had been thrown back from simple and pure hysteria fueled rage. Even as he struggled to get back up, you could see he had the wind knocked out of him from the force and strength of your blow. Struggling to breathe and winded from your rage, he almost seemed angry before he truly looked at what stood before him. Even as he struggled to stand, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow, regret, and confusion. No magic had touched him.

You felt nothing but slowly fading rage as you stared at the rampaging Unicorn that had so happily tried to cut down your closest friend since you woke up in his nightmare realm. Even as the axe sliced into your non-dominant forearm and pressed against bone, you refused to look away from the now shocked inky abomination. The fangs riddling the maw of this monster parted and that same distorted voice spoke, now laced with pain.

"You weren't supposed to- I didn't mean to..!"

Held in your dominant hand was the soft and still shaking body of your confidant and companion as he confusedly wondered if he had died. His bright blue eyes daring to peak up towards his savior but fear still gripped his heart. Holding him so securely was the Human he loved being around and joking with, but the expression she now wore was one of unbridled fury even with the large axe embedded in her soft flesh.

You slowly fell to your knees in the grass, arms covered in bruises from your previous bindings and eyes filled with firey hate. No one even saw you move, let alone make it across the garden to where you were now. They had all been so focused on Riddle that they were caught off guard by the sudden display of strength from who they assumed to be the weakest among them.

Humans were weak, fragile, and above all else in need of protection, right? So why did they all feel so genuinely afraid at that moment?

"Why did you-?"

Taking advantage of Riddle's momentary return of consciousness, Trey was quick to launch an attack at the distraught Unicorn from the lake he pulled himself out of. It hit him square between the eyes causing a cascading reaction of golden magic to erupt from the Unicorn's horn. The light was near blinding but you ducked down, using your non-mangled arm and body to shield your little friend.

Your world went dark.

[cvlutos]

“Divine nor Forsaken” Ch.Two

| 02.10.23 | 4.7K | Rated R |

Multi-Character X Fem!Reader [TWST: DEMON AU]

GENERAL LIST: | Characters 18+ | Dark Content | Yandere | War | Death | Violence | Blood | Gore | Body Mutilation | Abuse | Threats | Smut | Noncon/Dubcon | Consensual | Horror | Poly | Drinking Blood | Implied Eating Humans | Etc.| Proceed with Caution, Beloved |

T.Manor.Notes: Please heed warnings. Okay, but chapter two. Finally finished it.

| Masterlist | Male Version | Gender-Neutral Version |

| Overview | Ch.One | Ch.Two | Ch.Three |

“There are some things, my little dove, that we cannot change. Such is the way with people.”

Your mother’s voice is gentle—calming, as she tucks you in, making sure you’re all tight and warm. Most nights she’ll sing a little bedtime song, stuffing you in your thick blankets, to where you couldn’t move, and forcing you to wiggle like a little worm. Yet tonight, she settles on reading you a story. A story about a girl who befriended all that met her, but none could save her from fate. One who told in a daze-like state, faltering in some parts and stronger in others.

She holds a somber look upon her face, with still a smile placed across her lips as if even in her own sorrow, she can’t help but smile when she sees you. However, her gaze falters for a moment, brows crinkling as her posture changes. She shifts her eyes from you. As if almost regretful. The room is still cold, and you can’t help but shiver and slide deeper into your densely woven covers.

“My little Songbird,” she muses, her hands gripping the red dress fabric across her knees. She keeps her head bowed, “… Promise me… That you’ll find the good within everything and put trust in strangers.” She has a mournful smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes, as if these were words that she never wanted to be spoken. Never uttered past her tight-lined lips. She lives with regret.

“MOVE!”

A large body hurries past you, frantic hands shoving you to the ground. Your mind takes a moment to register what happens, as a sharp pain shoots through your skull. Your head slams into the dirt floor, a pained cry slipping past your dried, cracked lips. The bubble in your ears seems to pop, another shot of pain, as your hands blindly press against your aching ears, trying to dull the pain.

Screams.

Yells.

Voices on top of voices.

The sounds of rushing feet, pained screams as people trampled over people. A huge crowd formed as all ran towards the woods or into random buildings to hide, pushing those they deemed too slow to the ground or into others. Some shout in rage, to move, to run, to survive. Yet your ears pick up the crying of children, separated from parents, and sobbing mothers clinging desperately to their little ones. And oh, so desperate fathers, swinging useless weapons, doing what a father should. Protecting his family. Even if he fails.

The air smells of fire. The smells of burning wood and burning flesh. Those unfortunate get trapped within a collapsed house, screaming for help, only for a demon to ravage through the destroyed building. Screams for help turn to gurgles and cries of pain.

And the wind does nothing but fan the flames. That forces the voices to travel further and makes the scared crowd worse. Like frightened sheep. The fires grow at fast speeds and ravage the town.

You were shoved; your hands slid from your ears and push against the ground. You lift your head up, then your upper body. Your lip bleeds, and your eyes water as dust gets in. You rub your eyes, gritting your teeth. Your legs scraped along the dirt, blood slowly seeping into the dirt road, your dress torn and filthy. Everything seems to move around you in a fast blur, as if taken picture by picture and put together, yet you still, as if you were the one behind the camera, taking multiple photos at once in hopes of a single good shot. You struggle to move as if your own body was carved out of the heaviest stone and the ground was paper, mere fabric, ready to give way at any moment.

You would fall.

You drop your dirtied hands from your eyes. Letting out a choked breath before trying to move again. Eyes darting around the burning town. To think that only a few hours you walked through, ready for work. Yet now.

It’s ruined. Demons ruined it.

Demons. Looming figures, hunched beasts. With snarling jaws and lanky arms and bodies, with no rhyme nor reason to how they moved. Some staggered as if half-dead, others crawled, and some walked. Or those that few above with torn wings and unhinged jaws, picking up people—prey larger than themselves.

They growl and yell, spitting black saliva as they speak--taunting, eating, and absorbing humans. Sucking them into their gooey flesh.

People you knew.

You struggle to keep yourself together, your breath comes out in short wheezes, and your heart rises to your throat which makes it impossible to breathe. You could die. You watch familiar faces become lifeless, and you can’t breathe. Your hands seize the fabric of your shirt, it’s too tight. The ground seems to give way beneath you. You can’t move—you can’t move. Your legs feel like heavy weights, filled to the brim with sand and became your legs, and as if the pain of feeling like your legs weren’t your own wasn’t enough. You tried to move, to pull yourself forward by your hands, yet it felt as if metal poles plunged into your flesh, forcing you in place. You feel sweat gathered on your skin.

It’s hot.

You feel surrounded. Covered in a layer of your own sweat and dirt, like a heavy blanket, whose threads were coming undone to wrap around your throat and chest. You struggle to stand. Nails clawing into the side of the building, using it to stabilize yourself. You cry out in pain, feeling your legs and head throb.

You should be running, screaming, sobbing. You should be. Yet you feel tired—you are tired. As if all your energy was sucked from your very being. You cough, squinting as smoke stings your eyes. Home. You need to go home. You feel dizzy as you stagger forward, staring through the smoke, through the ever-thinning crowd. Your eyes land on green. The quickest flash, as if almost lightning. A shiver runs down your spine, and your eyes widen.

The demon from before.

He holds a weighty axe, one that isn’t his. Far too small for his large hands, yet coated in red. You feel your stomach lurch, and the smell of blood oozes off of him. He holds the axe as if merely a stick as he swings it lazily, sending only a mere glance to those he struck, his eyes landing on you. Your hands shake, and he makes his way towards you, striking those in his way, whether demon or human. Most know well to remain out of his way. Your body screams at you to move. Move. Move. Move.

“Move.”

As if some foreign voice enters your head, warm and oddly bored, as if it rather be doing anything else. Nonetheless, you blindly listen. You shove off the wall with a panicked sound, stumbling and nearly tripping, ignoring the pins and needles as you force yourself to a gallop sorta like a run, hissing in pain. You push yourself to go as fast as you could, ignoring the burning in your throat as bile rose. The burning of your lungs. It all seems a blur as your falter and slip, yet you don’t stop running. If you do. You’ll die.

You run instinctively home, darting in-between bodies and demons far too focused on their meals. The sky slowly becomes darker, as the fire doesn’t spread towards the trees. You run still, even in the dark, with no moon to guide you and no torch to light your way. You know this path.

You know it well. Your father always made sure you knew the way home.

Your feet barely graze the stone steps in front of your home, nearly slipping, and your body rams into your door. Fumbling with the doorknob, before turning it and hurling yourself inside. You slam the door behind you, scrabbling with the locks, gasping for breath.

Your home is draft. Cold. Unchanged. You step away from the door, eyeing it carefully, letting your body slowly rest. Forcing your tense muscles to relax. You allow yourself to breathe, slightly proud of making it out of the town and fighting off whatever spell was forced upon you. Ridding you of your ability to move. It all seems calm.

BANG

Your body jolts, hands flying over your lips to muffle a scared shriek.

BANG

A series of bangs, thuds, and forcefully panicked hits and kicks, and your door flinches at each one. Yet it doesn’t break.

“[NAME]! PLEASE!”

“PLEASE—”

“I DONT WANNA DIE—”

“HELP! OPEN THE DOOR—”

Your name is screamed like a broken symphony. Equal to a band of shrill untuned instruments that are rusted and worn. As voices—voices that are oh so familiar to you—cry for you. Scream. Beg. Plead for you to only open the door. To let them in. To save them. Voices you know far too well.

Save them.

The old grandma down the street who shares her pies with you—while telling you stories of magic from when she lived in the city. The hardworking miner and his newly pregnant wife, who spent years unable to conceive until early this year, who prayed to the very gods for a healthy baby that they wished to have. The two daughters to the schoolteacher, who always gives you seeds for a garden every time you saw them. The door shakes against its hinges and you step forward, tears close to spilling as your lips quiver. Yet a cold shiver runs down your spine. You weren’t alone.

Your door was unlocked.

The tip of a blade grazes along the center of your back, a silent warning, as a hand ushers you forward. Grip tight and bruising on your shoulder as you pressed up against the door. Which shakes and jolts. You can hear the wood groan and creak, yet still, it remains standing. And the voices. They won’t stop begging.

But it grows. From desperate—frantic—animalistic. On par with the growls and screams of demons. You can feel their desperation change into resentment. Each plea changes into a curse. Each condemning you to hell, to rot with the very demons that will kill them and soon you. Your hands shake violently and you want to help them. To let them inside.

You need to—

“Don't.”

The voice is weighty and cold as if a blizzard took form and made itself comfortable within his throat. You feel a chilly breeze fan across your skin and you shiver, violently. He’s a demon and there’s a portion of you that tense—afraid—yet you feel no intent to harm you.

He’s calming.

It’s a mild threat that freezes your motions. He makes no motion to stop you, expecting you to simply obey. While reminding you of the situation you’re in. And you listen. You press your palms against the jolting door, feeling your heartbeat in your throat, feeling the door shake against your sticky forehead. The one behind you doesn’t make any effort to move nor speak. Letting you—forcing you to wallow in their suffering.

“To think you could run.”

The voice is distant. Beyond your home and outside your door, annoyed and angry. Your heart drops and you squeeze your eyes closed, feeling your throat constrict.

The demon from the tavern.

Your muscles lock and you feel weak. Shaking your head from the oncoming headache. It’s like you could hear him. Feel him. His every breath. Every threatening step he took. The raging hatred from humans. It burns. As if you were tossed into a fire pit and left to painfully thrash around. It burns.

Those that try to run. Try to flee deeper into the forest, are met with howls and distorted laughter as demons that hid within darkened woods take them. Rip them apart and leave them nothing.

You hear final prays.

Final whispers of ‘I love you’.

As the man embraces his wife, hugging her so tightly as if he alone could defy fate. Demons tear them apart. Laughing. Taunting. Faking pity. Yanking them from each other. You hear him shrieking for his wife. His love. Only for his voice to cut off with a roar and the sounds of bones snapping. While the demons laugh. The mother with an unborn child, who prayed for years to become a loving mother. She screams and curses you, curses you for the loss of her husband and her child. She too is met with the same fate.

There’s no pounding on the door, yet the soft whimpers of the daughters, holding each other, while the old grandma is dragged away. Hands clasped and praying still. “[Name]…” The softest calling of your name. A final plea. You don’t hear the two girls scream.

Your knees feel weak, gravity pulling you down as your body trembles. You choke on your breath. The demon lets you fall, removing the blade from your back and taking a large step back. Watching you hold yourself as you cry against the door, shoving your face in your hands.

“Even if you let them inside. They would have still died. It is better they died outside than inside.” It feels like his own twisted way of comforting, yet it doesn’t help. They died hating you.

“Though, I apologize. I wish that it did not have to happen this way.”

His voice is monotone, yet sincere. You try and calm your crying, resting your head against the door. The sound of his shoes echoes as he moves from you. He casually explores your house. You can’t speak to him.

“... Your home is nice and quaint... familiar.” You don’t move. Yet you can tell that it is out of his own nature to speak, but he does. He falls silent and continues searching, using his sword to glance at paintings, pick up pieces of clothing, and open and skim the pages of books, using the blade to flip the pages.

You hear his sword tap the glass of a photo, and his voice breaks the silence. “You remind me of her.” You glance at him, his sword grazing along the glass of a photo of you, your mother, and your father. Your force yourself to look back at the wood of the door. “A splitting image, almost. You look the same as she did when she was young—She acted the same when we had done away with her family—” The air grows cold as if a growing snow storm and dread fills your stomach and grows.

“I hope that you do not end up like your mother.”

That gets a reaction. Your head immediately snapped over to him, brows furrowed and lips down, turning. He isn’t looking at you, but out the window, surveying the land. He seems unbothered by it all. With shoulder-length, silver hair pulled into a ponytail, and eyes of light blue that held a sliver of pity.

“What—”

Your voice cracks, unbearably dry and scratchy. He turns his head to you after a moment, looking over you. He seems to almost frown when gazing. “Yet you look like your father as well.” he takes a step forward and his gaze seems to freeze you. You look down.

With your body still facing the door, the tip of his sword stings against your skin as he raises your head gently, forcing you to look up at him. He tilts his head to the side before crouching down quickly, yet oddly, gracefully.

“... You must head North...”

His words are simple and transparent and he steps away, glancing towards your dining room table. He strides slowly to the table, the heels of his shoes clicking. He picks up the letter and looks over it. You want to tell him to put it down. Yet his brows scrunch up and for a moment you think he’s going to take it.

Yet he doesn’t.

“The course has been set for you. You must merely find the signs.”

He drops the letter, and with a frosty breeze, you’re alone. At the disappearance of the demon, your body drops, a sudden wave of exhaustion makes it hard to move. You let out a shaky breath, and after a moment, you pull yourself to your feet and wobble away from the door.

It’s silent. Far too silent. You need to leave.

You stagger up the old stairs, feeling one almost give way, breaking beneath your feet. Yet you’re quick to dart over the broken step, stumbling to your room and shoving open the door. You pack blindly, throwing only the most travel-fit clothes and shoes. Anything you could need, throwing spare money, tools, anything, and everything as you take your bag and stumble down the steps, preparing loads of food to take with you. The ramshackle isn’t safe.

You stand in front of the wooden door. There would be no returning. No do-overs. Nothing. You would never come back home. You drop your bag and slowly look over your home. A home you’ve lived in for years. Your parents’ home. You ignore the anxiety that fills you, as your turn back to the door.

Slowly, you undo every lock and hold the knob, counting the seconds before pulling the door open. The foul stench of copper paints your tongue and feels your senses completely, as blood paints the ground, soaking into the dirt and staining the trees. Bodies upon bodies lay ripped, torn, destroyed. Each resting at the oddest angles, heads turned in ways they shouldn’t. You take a hesitant step back, only to bump into something solid. You freeze, your hands and body shaking as cruel arms wrap around you. “You caused this.” His voice is husky in your ears and he tightens his hold, your knees nearly buckling as he slowly rests his weight on you. The demon from before, with the green hair. He continues squeezing, and it hurts.

He’s hurting you.

“Bugs. Should be with bugs.” There’s a sentiment of hatred, and you groan in pain, unable to move an inch. You can feel your bones crack. “They lived together. It’s only right you die together.” He sneers viciously, tightening his hold, and you wheeze and wiggle like a fish forcibly removed from the water. Fighting a fight you can’t win, and from the corner of your eyes, lime green eyes seem to glow, with a vicious grin spread across his slips, revealing red-stained canines. “Humans truly are pathetic.” As you feel every bone was shattered, your ribcage collapses into each other.

Your life flashes before your eyes. Your mother. Your father. You scream in pain, thrashing around more on reflex than consciousness. The letter. Blood slips past your lips, as bones break through your skin.

You haven’t read the letter from your father.

══════ ♡ ══════

“It is rare to hear from you.”

Bored grey human eyes stare into the richly colored crimson liquid. The coppery smell filled his nose and swarmed around his brain in the most delightful way. The thick liquid rests idly in his porcelain teacup, which he holds delicately. He occasionally sips, taking his time to slowly drink the warm, fresh blood. Bringing the glass up to his lips and slowly partook in the thick fluid, a pleasant sigh vibrating in his throat. For a moment, he forgets that he isn’t alone and has an unexpected guest.

One from the Kingdom and the seventh army.

“Though it is not an unpleasant surprise, General.” The grey-eyed demon gives a small smile, and the demon general gives a pleasant greeting in turn, large eyes in taking the nicely decorated tent that smelled of blood and roses. The commander’s favorite smells, though the demon of pride would never speak of it. Magenta eyes move from the decor to the commander himself. It has been quite some time since he last saw the young demon. He hasn’t changed. Same small stature, with often cold grey eyes, and flushed peachy skin, with two black obsidian ram horns, with rose red tips, framed perfectly on the side of upper foreheads with straight red hair. A human form that the demon commander took great pride in. Spending days to fashion the perfect look, based on an old human monarch.

The commander shifts in his seat, offering a small smile, his white-gloved hand silently motioning to the empty chair across from him.

The General chuckles. The commander has always been so respectful and tries best to make the best out of surprised visits. Especially from demons of higher rank, and the General from the seventh is exactly that. Even as he takes the form of an innocent short man, yet speaks like an old wise bat.

“And a pleasure. As always to see you, Riddle.” The general bows as he floats above his chair, a small gust of wind blowing from the release of his magic as he plops into his seat, gently rocking the table.

“I hate to go so long without visiting. I have quite missed our tea times, Sanguinum.”

The commander of the first army, Sanguinum. Or Riddle Rosehearts.

Riddle lets out a low hum, once again picking up his cup and sipping from it, closing his eyes for a brief moment. His eyes flutter open, “As have I. 38 years since the last time, I believe.” The demon of Pride places his red and white porcelain teacup back on its saucer and stands. Waving his hand, letting magic pour the guest “tea”, before with another wave returning the pot black to its place.

“Has it been that long?” the general’s eyes widen in disbelief before laughing, “oh my! How time flies.” The General with pink and black hair sighs in delight the moment he takes a sip of the blood. He can taste the sweetest, probably from a woman of middle age. Riddle always did prefer sweeter-tasting humans.

“Indeed. It goes quite fast.”

The commander waits a moment, his mood going from relaxed to uptight, his posture slowly straightening. “Then you must be here for good reason.” The general tilts his head to the side in faux confusion, taking another long gulp.

“And can it not be here to merely see a friend?” He batters his lashes, and Riddle’s face falls, giving a knowing look. The general only laughs, placing his cup on the table, propping his elbows up, and interlacing his fingers to rest his chin upon.

“Tell me what troubles you.”

Riddle hesitates for a moment, before sighing. “If I’m not needed to fight, then I should be sent back.” The room drops a couple degrees, and Riddle’s face dips for a moment, and he forces his gaze to his cup, gently swirling the glass. The general wears an apprehensive expression. “Riddle...”

The general’s voice falters, eyes once again scanning around the pseudo-room. It’s filled with different trophies and winnings from the last 15 years since the war started. Such as prized tea sets, clothing, tools, jewelry, and anything and everything he and his army took from the villages and towns they raided.

15 years. But to be sent back. Back to beneath to the realm of Demons.

A part of the general agrees, the first army has been out on the front lines for a few years, 20. Five years merely searching for the pact bearer and another 15 for when the war began. Yet it is only the North conquered. With still the west, east, and south that have yet to be within the King’s control. And well…

“I am honored to have fought for the king.” Riddle’s voice breaks his through the process, hand subconsciously rubbing over the back of his hand, where his pact once was. A once calming action now... torturous. To lose the one who knew your mind and body, it must hurt—it does hurt. The general’s hand itches to move, yet he stops himself.

“I—I cannot guarantee anything, but I will talk to him.” The commander seems to brighten up, a relieved look crossing his features, before settling into a more relaxed posture. The two talk for an hour, telling stories and telling, catching up on the last 38 years. There’s a feeling of familiarity.

“Before you go, General.” The general stops mid-stretch, listening to the sound of the teacup gently clinking against the matching saucer. He glances over his shoulder, face changing from a grin to one of full perturbation. Riddle has a dark expression as if just remembering something gravely important.

“We must speak about Callidus.”

══════ ♡ ══════

You awake with a gasp, your body automatically jumping as if leaping from death’s hands. Pain shoots up from your right leg and you screech, unprepared and confused. You try and gather your thoughts, feeling sweat accumulate on your skin, your stomach churning, and head pulsing achingly. You feel nauseous.

You try to move, hands clutching the wood that held you, your head turning to look down. Half of your leg, up to your mid-thigh, was bleeding and disappeared beneath the broken wooden step. It had broken beneath you when you tried going upstairs, and you slammed your head and fell unconscious. You were alone and before… what happened before was a dream.

Only a dream.

Even if it was a dream, you still have to leave. But with your leg, you grimace, you’d have to wait. And you’re also exhausted and sure that sleep wouldn’t greet you. You groan in pain, hands clawing at the wood and slowly pulling yourself up. You wince, careful to not move your bleeding leg.

It doesn’t feel broken.

Your face scrunches as your use the wooden banister to pull yourself. It feels like hours until you’re free, using your bruised good leg, to carefully climb the rest of the stairs, using the wall and railing to support you. You hop to your room, groaning at every moment. Your body ached, painfully so. Pushing the half-lidded door to your dark bedroom, hobbling over to your vanity, and rummaging inside the top drawer. You keep your head down, using the very limited light to search for any cloth to wrap your leg and medicine would be in the bathroom.

“It has been—what—18 years since I last saw you. Barely two years old.”

You freeze, hands clutching random pieces of cloth, the voice came from behind you, from the furthest corner of your room. You can’t will yourself to look. Yet you do, looking through the mirror, across your room, a man shrouded in darkness, yet with striking green eyes. Boredom radiates off of him in waves, yet a sense of blatant honesty. Not because he values honesty, but moreso, lying to him would be pointless. It feels like he knows you, every move you’ll make, every thought you’ll ever have. He can read it off as if it was merely a book, a book that he wouldn’t be bothered to read.

“I’m not here to kill you.”

Yet his plain words don’t reassure you. He moves from his corner, and you blindly step away, momentarily forgetting about your leg and yelping out before landing on your side. As if he knew that would happen, he snorts under his breath, staying in the darkest parts of your room, deliberately closing the space between you. Like predator circling prey, but as well as if he wasn’t an intruder. But someone who lived here and had every right to be here.

“Then—Then, why are you here?” Your voice falters and he shrugs almost, tilting his head to look at a carved wooden box you were gifted, before placing it down after deeming it uninteresting. It does this with several different objects, looking at them, before finding them boring and placing them down where it was.

You watch at him, and you can tell he has long hair that goes down to his shoulders, and warm brown skin, with a tail and ears, but horns that were broken off, jagged edges gleaming. He was a demon. You can see him roll his eyes at your sudden conclusion as if it wasn’t completely and utterly obvious.

He drags out a long sigh, falling into an old rocking chair your father made, rolling his neck as to remove the aching. Very human action and your shoulders drop. You should be scared, yet he reminds you a little bit of your mother. The tiniest familiarity, like when you hang around someone long enough, you pick up their habits.

“… I’m here to,” he thinks for a moment, looking over you before letting out a low annoyed sigh, as if what he was about to say would kill him, “to make a pact.”

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Works in progress

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Drafts

Darling who ignore the tweels red flags (rq)

Alucard with a dragon shifter!darling (rq)

Floyd with a pregnant!darling (rq)

Riddle with a bad boy!darling (rq)

Poly!Malleus x darling x Lilia (rq)

Hellsing trio with a shy darling (rq)

Alucard and Integra with an assassin darling (rq)

Integra with a darling who start killing (rq)

Latina!darling making them eat their hated food with the tweels and Sebek (rq)

Sam teaching darling about tarot

⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Working on

Undertaker with a multilingual!darling (rq)

Sebastian with a noble darling (rq)

Alucard with a weapon!darling (rq)

Bb!trio with a darling that suffered a bus wreck (rq)

Malleus with a darling that Crowley sent away (rq)

Cat girl that misses the tweels (rq)

Yandere!darling amputing Jade's legs (rq)

Silver and Sebek liking the same darling (rq)

⠀⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Almost done

Octotrio with a sick darling (rq)

Rollo with a traumatized darling who agrees with him (rq)

Undertaker with a necromancer!darling (rq)

Platonic!Lilia with an immortal!male!darling (rq)

Alucard with a darling from Turkey (rq)

Veronica!reader (rq)

Platonic!Diamsonia vs romantic!Rook (rq)

Undertaker with a dead darling

Darling living with Malleus inside their dream

Sebek's knight duty to his darling

Platonic headcanons for Sam and Crewel

⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Proofreading

Housewardens with a darling that surpasses them (rq)

Twst!main cast being yandere for Yuu except the first years (rq)

Papa!Lilia helping reader (rq)

Darling caught Jade cannibalizing someone

Octotrio with a darling that has an autoimmune disease

Ortho matchmaking you and Idia

⠀⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Queued

Papa!Lilia with a daughter!reader (rq) - Queued up for 5th

Yandere alphabet for trey (rq) - Queued up for 8th

Self aware!Octotrio with a darling that puts their phone on their chest (rq) - Queued up for 10th

Self aware au switch bodies (rq) - Queued up for 12th

Integra talking with her darling (rq) - Queued up for 15th

Yandere chrollo with a sarcastic darling (rq) - Queued up for 18th

Undertaker with a helpful darling (rq) - Queued up for 20th

Alucard with a recently turned vampire (rq) - Queued up for 23th

Chrollo taking his darling back home - Queud up for 26th

[sumeruin]

DOING IT WITH ME!

♫♪: requests are open!!

♫♪: fandoms i write for: genshin impact, bungou stray dogs, twisted wonderland, demon slayer, love and deepspace, jujutsu kaisen

♫♪: characters i won’t write: klee, diona, qiqi, sayu, nahida (genshin), lucy, q/kyusaku, mori, kyoka, teruko, kenji (bsd), ortho, sebek (twst), nezuko, daki, rui (kny)

♫♪: i won’t write: daddy kink, cheating, character x character, any specific features on reader (ie. skin color, eye color, hair color, weight, etc.), piss, scat, snuff/necro, amab or male reader, pregnancy, incest

♫♪: i will write: noncon/dubcon, yandere, mindbreak, impact play, bondage, spit kink, blood play, weapon play, monsterfucking, afab, gender neutral, or female reader, sub and dom reader, sub and dom character, breeding, any of the not child characters (including women!!! i am a hardcore women liker <3), stepcest, gore, etc.

♫♪: please be specific in your requests, it’s hard for me to come up with ideas on the spot. i need more than just a character and a kink.

♫♪: do not send a request more than once, it takes me a while to write and come up with ideas, that does not mean i didn’t get your ask. you are welcome to send me an ask asking if i got the request though.

♫♪: if you’re unsure about whether or not i’ll write something, just send me an ask and i’ll tell you.

[linawritestwst]

𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𓆛 all dorm members 𓆛

♡ octavinelle dorm members react to your love confession ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ octavinelle trio and jack x s/o who doesn't think she's beautiful headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff with elements of angst, warning for mentions of bullying)

♡ five nights at mostro lounge ♡ (gn!reader, comedy, no warnings)

♡ octavinelle comforting the stressed reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no warnings)

♡ how twst characters would fall in love with you ♡ (gn!reader, mostly fluff, no warnings)

♡ being sorted into octavinelle headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

𓆛 azul ashengrotto 𓆛

♡ azul ashengrotto x s/o who is a simp for him headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of angst, no warnings)

♡ trey, azul, epel and sebek working on a project with a clueless reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, warning for mentions of bullying)

♡ idia, vil, jack and azul taking their s/o out on a date headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders x s/o who loves to give them flowers headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders fake dating headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders with a disney princess-like s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ riddle, leona, azul and jamil x s/o who's traumatized from overblot incidents ♡ (gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no warnings)

♡ leona, epel, azul and floyd reacting to their s/o doting on their tsum tsums ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ riddle, azul, idia and ruggie with a s/o who teases them in a loving way ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders x s/o who comes from a wealthy family headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ trey, azul, jade and idia as househusbands headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ riddle, azul, vil and malleus going ice skating with their s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ riddle, trey, azul and jade yandere headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for yandere themes, abusive/unhealthy relationship dynamics, mentions of stalking, manipulating and gaslighting)

♡ azul finding out that his crush is an octopus merman headcanons ♡ (male!reader, angst with a happy ending(hurt/comfort?? not sure actually), warnings for insecurity themes and mentions of bullying)

♡ rollo, malleus, jamil and azul being jealous because of you doting on grim and the first years ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders reacting to an idol!reader performing a love song for them ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ "it grew and burst into a love so bad that it feels good"/yandere!reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for general yandere content, toxic relationships, descriptions of manipulating and stalking and implication of murder)

𓆛 jade leech 𓆛

♡ jade and floyd with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ platonic leech twins headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ trey, azul, jade and idia as househusbands headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ riddle, trey, azul and jade yandere headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for yandere themes, abusive/unhealthy relationship dynamics, mentions of stalking, manipulating and gaslighting)

♡ vice dorm leaders x reader who used to be an assassin in their world headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, warnings for mentions of murders, death, weapons and some minor physical violence)

♡ rollo, jade and floyd receiving red tulips from you headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ yandere!reader x twst's biggest red flags headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for possible ooc, general yandere themes, themes of obsession, mentions of manipulation, murder and death, implications of suicide)

𓆛 floyd leech 𓆛

♡ jade and floyd with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ platonic leech twins headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ leona, epel, azul and floyd reacting to their s/o doting on their tsum tsums ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ idia, deuce and floyd taking care of a sick reader ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ rollo, jade and floyd receiving red tulips from you headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ ace, deuce, floyd and malleus finding out that you had a s/o in your world headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, angst, warnings: no happy ending, malleus's part has yandere themes)

♡ yandere!reader x twst's biggest red flags ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for possible ooc, general yandere themes, themes of obsession, mentions of manipulation, murder and death, implications of suicide)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

You know that Weapon Reader you did with Lilia and Malleus? Can do you one with Before and After Overblotting Yandere!Azul (And maybe Yan!Floyd and Yan!Jade) with Weapon Reader? I can see Reader doing this when Azul was asking for something to ‘sweeten’ the deal that he has for them (To free the Students):

Azul: What exactly can you offer me beside your Dorm? You don’t exactly-

Reader (No hesitation): My Body

Azul: Have much to offer- (Realizes what they said) HUH?!? (Is completely off guard by such a suggestive offer)

Reader (Straight faced): You heard me

Jade and Floyd (Both smirk realizing the Magicless Prefect is going be entertaining to have around): Hehehe…

Jack (Surprised and very started by their ‘suggestive’ offer): Are you INSANE?? (Has a blush on his face from embarrassment)

Grim, Ace and Deuce (Spit-Take after hearing what their Friend just offered): W H A T/N Y A H? ? ! ?

I DEFINITELY believe that Reader doesn’t realize that the rules on ‘Offering’ their Bodies is VERY different from their world (Since Demon Weapon offer their Bodies to Meisters to turn into Weapons) which is seen as connecting to their Meisters (Not realizing that what they offered was VERY suggestive until Ace explained it, then I bet their face rivals Angry Riddle’s Face)

I love this so much

🖤🖤🖤

Weapon Reader (2) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Azul Ashengrotto

Feeling the weight of the scythe’s blade that was on his lap, he’s desperately trying to gain some semblance of normalcy for him

“Y-your leg!”

“It wouldn’t be just this part. This is only a demonstration. Fully changed, I'm a spear.”

“W-why would I need a spear?!”

“...” You were looking at him like he was the alien here 

“Uh to stab people? I thought you were the smart one Azul.”

He near faints 

Despite his initial shock he eventually gets quite excited about you and your so-called friends failing becoming part of his little crew in Monstro Lounge

With you in his pocket, he’d be unstoppable

Not to mention he could finally get to know you or rather for you to know him at all

Too many times had he chickened out from speaking to you because he was sure his heart was beating loud enough to hear

But if you really were making the offer

He’d take it

And when the day ends he himself will collect you

“Well similar to Ramshackle, it's only right that I protect and exercise your services until the contract is officially in action.”

On account of maintaining your deal, you sigh before following Azul who is trying to hide his blushy smile as he pushes his glasses up with pride

So between being interrogated about your weapon status and plotting with your friends it will ultimately trigger his overblot

When that finally does happen you are more than prepared to throw down especially if Jade is offering to be your meister

When all's said and done Azul’s really upset you are out of his grasp

Next to Jamil your #1 on his ‘make a contract with at any opportunity' list

And it's not entirely because of your weapon status

“Prefect, I was curious if you’d let me…handle you, a-as a weapon of course!”

“If you let me touch your tentacles.”

“W-what?! B-but thats–”

“Embarrassing? Maybe, but I’m not one to let just anyone wield me.”

“I’d love to wield you more than anything~!”

“What?”

“J-just thinking about future…opportunities for collaboration, where’d we both get what we want.”

Jade Leech

His having a difficult time repressing the smile on his face

No doubt having also been deeply engaged in research about you, he already deemed you a person of interest

This was just the icing on the cake

He’s really really hoping Azul didn’t properly explain it in the terms of the contract

If Azul didn’t have use for you, he’d gladly be willing 

He can’t wait to take advantage get to know you better

In all your forms

“We happily accept your offer. And once you fail, we can’t wait to keep you forever properly employ you.”

Now he’s going to enjoy exercising the guard for collateral 

Sevens does he love throwing that weight around 

As he slowly carves into your time with your friends 

“Excuse us but we best be off. We’ve scheduled some time for us to get acquainted with one another.”

He really wants to see you in your full weapon form

He also really wants to know if your sense of touch remains through your transformation

“So this is what you meant about being a battle axe. I expected something more modest.”

“Like a lumberjack’s? Please, with the monsters I’d be fighting this is–what are you doing?”

“Sorry I just wanted to know, can you feel this at all?”

“Y-yes but why are you holding my handle like that?!” 

“Just getting a feel for you, that’s all.”

“Well stop it! This is just weird!”

“Perhaps but you were the one to sign the contract, no?”

“It hasn’t gone into effect just yet.”

“It will. And when it does I’ll be more than prepared to wield you with the skill you deserve.”

Sucks to suck 

He’s more aggravated than he lets on about the contract being fulfilled

Now he’s got to find another way to get ahold of you

And while he’s at it he might just cut Azul and Floyd out of it for good measure

So prepare for any and all situations that need you to transform

“Well this is quite the predicament!”

“It isn’t a predicament! You purposely chose this heavily forested area!”

“I’ve done no such thing. This is all through coincidence.”

“Right...”

“...”

“....”

“Now if you’d transform so that I may cut through this bramble.”

“And there it is!”

Floyd Leech

Is just as excited as his brother

He’s following you everywhere 

Closing in when he finds an opportunity to run off with

“I get to have (Y/n)! Why? Because I need to watch for the contract of somethin’!”

He isn’t as interested in getting Ramshackle as he is in finally getting to play with you

He always thought you were just a cute little shrimp 

But you have claws!

How fun!

Fully expect him to shake you hysterically before full-on asking

“Why won’t you change?!”

“I-I-am-not-a-toy-!”

“You’re telling me! Where’s the knife button?”

“Hahaha! S-stop p-poking me! Hey! Keep your hands off!”

Thinking it might ease his insistent touches it won’t

You’ll transform and he’s swinging you around like a maniac

“Stoooop! You’re going to hurt someone!”

“But it's so fun to swing you around like this!”

“Leech brother put that down immediately! You shouldn’t be swinging a weapon like that so indiscriminately, especially since it's you.”

He’s honestly a little peeved

But hey you were known for never being boring

Now that you have claws he’s more intense with his advances

He’s not immune to blades but he does enjoy a workaround

It doesn’t matter that the contract wasn’t fulfilled 

It just means he gets to have fun trying to catch you off-guard

He’s always been one for a chase

“Ne ne Shrimpy~Where’d you run off to?!”

“Don’t come near me Floyd, I'll cut you!”

“I’d like to see you try!” 

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Dragon On The Tower Roof.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.2k.

TW: Fantasy AU, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Injury to Reader, Implied (Consensual) Sex, Possessive Behavior, and Manipulation.

Malleus met you at the base of his tower.

With a single movement of his wings, he descended from his perch and landed in front of you – placing himself between you and the stone behemoth. Had you been a more imposing figure, a knight or a prince or the general of some distant army, he would’ve cut you down the moment you entered his valley, but your only armor was a thin rucksack tunic and your only weapon was a rusted sword – the tip of its chipped blade currently planted in the ground as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet. He could smell blood on you, although he couldn’t be sure if its source was the jagged, poorly bandaged wound on your calf or the dark stains painting your humble clothes. You were clearly not a knight, much less a prince, and if you were a general, your army had abandoned you long ago. Altogether, you were not the most intimidating nuisance he had ever had to dismiss. He might’ve been grateful, had you not been a nuisance at all.

In the past, his visage alone had been enough to make even the bravest adventure abandon their quest, but your weary eyes only glazed over his black-scaled wings, his spiraling horns, the slit pupils of his unnaturally green eyes. You acknowledged him with a slight nod, putting more of your weight on your makeshift aid. “I believe I’m here to slay you, dragon.”

His greeting, likewise, came in the form of a bowed head, a narrowed gaze. “And to rescue the prince, I assume.”

You shrugged, the gesture alone threatening to cost you your balance. “I’m sure they’d prefer if I didn’t. I think they’ve got someone else for that – a lord, or maybe a king. Someone more befitting than a filthy criminal, surely.”

At that, Malleus felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Novelty was rare, this far into his everlasting life, and he could not say he’d ever had a prisoner sent after his head. “What sort of crime gets you sent to the lair of a monster?”

You brightened at the question. “Thievery,” you answered, pride overshadowing your exhaustion. “I could either face you or let them cut off my hands and, well, I find those to be quite essential to my burgeoning career.”

This time, you earned an airy laugh, a reflexive flick of his tail. He took another moment to evaluate you before speaking. “You are tired, thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but you answered regardless. “It was a long journey. You aren’t an easy monster to reach.”

“And injured, presumably by the fangs of some great beast of legend.”

“Right again.” You paused, then added, “If there are any legends about wolves, I mean.”

“And hungry.” Your smile fell. When you failed to respond, he went on. “May I invite you to share a meal with me before our battle?”

He watched as you swallowed, as you straightened. Your sword was pulled from the ground and allowed to hang limply at your side as you stared up at him with such a hopeful expression – his heart, had it not been so terribly calloused, might’ve broken at the sight alone. “Well,” you started, your humor gone in exchange for pure, unabashed desperation. “I suppose I can’t refuse such a kindly offered invitation.”

With no further conversation, he stepped to the side, raising his staff to the tower. After only a moment, the endless cobblestone pulled away to reveal a simple, wooded door – already open and awaiting his entry. Smiling, he motioned for you to follow him, and without protest, you obeyed.

~

You ate, to put it politely, like a starving animal.

There’d been an attempt at decency when you first sat down at the opposing head of his banquet table, a gallant effort to make use of the flatware arranged into neat, never-ending lines on either side of your plate, but what little energy you had for such pleasantries was depleted quickly as your attention was dedicated entirely to the whims of your empty stomach. Countless other dishes decorated the table – ranging from fine delicacies fit for the pallets of kings to common staples even the lowest of peasantry would’ve been familiar with, but Malleus was content to nurse a goblet of dark, herbed wine as he watched you bask in the feast.

Only after you’d gotten your fill did you seem to remember that you had company, your expression taking on a sheepish note. “This is what they brought me to trial for. Trespassing, I mean,” you began, and Malleus hummed in acknowledgement. “It was a baron’s manor – not quite a castle, but close to it. I heard he had the most beautiful gardens on this continent, and at the time, it seemed unreasonable to have to wait for an invitation just to take a look.”

“I thought you were a thief?”

“You must have the wrong person. I’ve been many things, but never a thief.” You leaned back in your chair. “I’m afraid I’ve always been too tender-hearted for that kind of thing. I could never stand to insult my hosts.”

“Such a considerate guest I have,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I suppose I won’t have to worry about being robbed blind if I let you stay the night, then.”

You shook your head, feigning ego. “I would never, dear dragon. Your reclusive prince, on the other hand—”

Whatever you might’ve gone on to say was swiftly replaced with a sudden gasp as every torch within sight burst into a pillar of vicious emerald flame, casting the dining room in a blinding, sickly green before dying out just as abruptly as it’d erupted. Malleus let out an exasperated breath, bringing a hand to his temples. “My apologies. My patience has grown—” He cast a wayward glance toward the ash now seared into the stone walls, the ceiling. “—thin, over my time here.”

You allowed a beat to pass by in silence, then another. “Your prince,” you said, finally. “Is he important to you?”

“I can think of nothing I value more.” The answer came easily, even if the intensity of his sentiment surprised him. “An old friend asked me to ensure his safety. I’ve performed my role dutifully ever since.” The taste of blood rose into the back of his throat, but he drowned it out with another long sip from his goblet. “They used to send entire armies to reclaim him, then lone knights, then the occasional adventurer. You might be the first human to come seeking my head in two or three decades.”

Your smile took on a shy lilt, your eyes drifting to the table. “I wasn’t really supposed to come after you, either. Most people just take it as an exile, but they gave me a sword, and…” It was your turn to laugh, now, to be surprised with yourself. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I thought, even if I don’t get to rescue any princes, it could be nice to see how much of the fairy tale is true.”

“And you’re satisfied with what you’ve found?”

“Not entirely,” you admitted. “But I’m glad I met you, dear dragon.”

After some hesitation, he pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between you. You stiffened, your gaze flitting blatantly toward the sole exit, but you didn’t attempt to flee as he pulled the closest seat in front of you and fell into it. “May I see your leg?”

You were far more than reluctant, but complied. The material of your travel weary trousers was pulled above your knee, the strips of fabric you’d attempted to fashion into bandages cut away with his own pitch-black talons. The wound was worse than he’d assumed, more severe than he assumed. Ragged skin stretched from your knee to your ankle, harsh puncture marks littering what little flesh was still in-tact. The stress of your journey had prevented the brunt of the damage from healing, and even without the use of his advanced senses, he would’ve been able to feel the heat radiating off of your skin, the first signs of infection beginning to set in. You were lucky you’d made it to his tower before the fever spread. His territory was cruel to the most resilient of creatures, and you seemed far from resilient.

“I have a salve in my collection that should aid in your recovery. That, paired with a few days of bed rest, should have you on your feet again in a week’s time.” Not a lie, but not far from one, either. He’d mended worse with a snap of his fingers, but there was no reason you should have to be burdened with such knowledge. “If you can find it within yourself to share a roof with a monster and delay our duel yet again, I can provide room and board while you recover.”

Your laugh was bright and strained. “You’re terribly kind to someone who came here to take your life.”

“And you’re very trusting of a creature who could easily end yours.” He let his pointed claws scrape over your bare skin, prolonging his evaluation. “Think of it as a show of my gratitude. My time here is well-spent, but tends to pass slowly. Visitors, whether benevolent or malicious, help to color my days.”

“Then I will have to be the most colorful visitor you’ve ever had,” you chimed, your grin renewed with fresh vigor. Clearly, you were not the type of mortal who could go long without a task. “I’ll make you wait on me hand and foot and bend to my every whim, until the thought of encountering another human being makes you sick. When I’m done, there might even be a dragon in this tower worth slaying.”

His only response was a steady nod, a low hum. He stood and, in the same motion, hooked one arm under the bend of your knees and another around your waist, lifting you into the air before you had the chance to so much as think to pull away. Instinctually, you attempted to re-balance yourself against him, and Malleus couldn’t help himself – laughing as he pulled you to his chest. “If I am to dote on you to the point of sickness, then let me start now. You’re in no state to walk on your own.”

You opened your mouth as if to complain, but anything you might’ve said was deemed too unimportant to warrant the effort. Your smile softened, your eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder. You lingered there, quiet and content, as he carried you through the halls of what would come to be your home.

~

Your prescribed period of bed rest came and went. Your bruises healed, then your leg (although you still tended to limp during particularly heavy rainstorms), and your exhaustion was replaced by a buzzing sort of restlessness. He never asked you to leave, and after some time, you seemed to stop expecting him to. You spoke rarely of your past (aside from the ever-changing series of events that led you to his tower, of course) and never of your future. When Malleus was in one of his more indulgent moods, he allowed himself to believe that, when he did catch you looking in his direction with such a glimmering worry in your eyes, you weren’t afraid of him, but of the possibility that he might send you away.

Despite your claims of spoiled houseguests and encumbered hosts, he was only driven to near-madness once while sharing your company. It’d been shortly after you instated yourself as a resident of his tower, rather than a fleeting visitor, and took to exploring your new dwelling without reservation. It’d been his own fault, really. He’d forgotten to warn you away from the upper wing, to resketch the protective runes he’d long-since allowed to fade, but such rationality had escaped him as he stood in the doorway, his mind empty and his eyes trained on your kneeling figure. He watched, paralyzed, as you raised a hand, reaching towards the marble slab, and then he was behind you – the points of his talons grazing the skin of your throat before he managed to restrain himself, curling his fist around the collar of your shirt, instead. Without warning, he hauled you off your feet, ignoring the half-choked shriek you let out in response.

His eyes fell to Silver, searching for any signs of harm, of disruption. Of course, Silver was unchanged. His colorless hair remained fanned over his velvet-cushioned pillow, the silk sheets and hand-stitched quilts still folded neatly at the foot of his bed – waiting to be put to use when the weather turned in autumn. Malleus took a moment to observe the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the gentle movement behind his closed eyes, before letting out a breath of relief and turning to you. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter this chamber.”

“Sorry, I— I was just looking around, and I saw the flowers on the door—” Silver’s own craftsmanship, preserved from the ravages of time by Malleus’ spell work. He’d painted them as soon as he was old enough to hold a brush, along with matching murals on his bedroom walls that hadn’t survived the passing ages. “—I got curious, that’s all. Is this the prince I was sent after?”

Malleus set his jaw, straightening his hunched posture. “…it is,” he answered, eventually. He let go of your collar and let you stumble onto your feet. “His name is Silver. I never knew him by any titles.”

Malleus’ gaze shifted to you, but your eyes remained fixed on Silver. “He’s beautiful.”

Despite himself, he felt the edge of his lips turn downward. He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you seemed to recover from your daze, turning to face him with a hopeful smile. “Do you know when he’s going to wake up?”

Malleus felt a coil of heat form in the back of the throat. The taste of ash laid heavy over his tongue, but he swallowed back his guilt and forced himself to respond. “In another hundred years, perhaps,” he mused, his tone melodic and detached. “There’s no known cure for a curse like his.”

A phantom of disappointment flickered across your expression, but it was suppressed quickly. Rather, you turned your attention outward – to the heavy, woven curtains draped over each crystalline window. “Will you help me let in some light? I hate to insult your taste, but it’s terribly depressing in here, and—” You brightened, taking him by the sleeve and tugging gingerly. “We don’t want his highness to have any nightmares, do we?”

With some reluctance, Malleus nodded. “Light, but nothing else.” When you failed to acknowledge him, he caught you by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure for your smile to falter. “Light, but nothing else. Do you understand?”

Your eyes darted back to Silver, but only for a moment. He was thankful for that – for your restraint. A second longer, and his true nature might’ve overshadowed his better judgement. “Of course, dear dragon. Nothing else.”

He inhaled sharply, then let go of you altogether.

It was a choice that, in the approaching months, he would only come to regret.

~

“This is what they banished me for, you know.”

“This?”

“Yes, this exactly.” You propped your chin on his chest, positioning yourself to more easily card your fingers through his hair. He let his eyes fall shut, basking in the warmth of your affection, of your bare skin pressed into his. Your clothes laid discarded on the grass around you, one of his wings bent and raised to shield you from the harsh light of the setting sun. He would have to get you back to the tower, soon. He’d always been indifferent to the deadly chill of night, but you – in your precious, delicate mortality – were not so durable. “Actually, not quite – I don’t think I ever made it to this part. It was the first time I’d ever attended a royal ball, and I happened to dance with a young lady so breath-taking, I couldn’t help but drop to one knee and dedicate my heart to her the moment our hands touched.” You sighed, feigning remorse. “Little did I know that she was the princess that ball was being thrown for, and so moved by my passion, she refused to let me out of her embrace until I agreed to marry her. Of course, her father – the king, as the fathers of princesses tend to be – couldn’t have that. It’s a shame, really. We would’ve made a gorgeous couple.”

Malleus pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. “And what does that make me? The next scorned lover of a silver-tongued rouge?”

“Oh, no. If you asked me to marry you,” You propped yourself up, pressing a kiss into the curve of his jaw. “There’d be nothing in the world that could stop me, dear dragon.”

Your hand fell to his cheek, and wistfully, you lulled him into a kiss – shallow but lingering, punctuated with a playful nip at his bottom lip. You pulled back with a smile, another quick peck to his cheek. You moved to say something, but he interrupted you, as mournful as he was to cut off such a precious moment so callously. “I found your wildflowers.”

Immediately, your expression fell. “I made sure not to—”

“I know, beloved, I know.” You knew better than to lay a hand on Silver. Your small bouquet had been left on the corner of his bed, another additional chain of asters and lavender braided into one of the longer strands of his waist-length hair. As much as he wished he could say he was only concerned for Silver’s well-being, it wouldn’t have been the truth. Something else, something darker, had accompanied the discovery – something it would be better for you to stay ignorant of. “We’ve talked about this. Silver is vulnerable, in his current condition. Even the simplest luxury is an unspeakable risk.”

Your shoulders dropped, your body going slack against his. You bowed your head, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, and despite his frustration with you, he didn’t push you away. “I’m sorry. It just feels so cruel to let him suffer alone.”

“He’s never been alone.” His tone was more curt than he’d meant it to be. “He’s always had me.”

“I know, but—” He expected you to raise your hair, to flash him that brilliant grin. Instead, you only settled against him, speaking softly into the crook of his neck. “He just seems so sad.”

Malleus took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut.

Then, before he could let himself think better of it, he wrapped an arm around your waist. In one fluid motion, he turned you over – leaving you on your back, one of his knees planted on either side of your waist, your form tucked safely underneath his. His kiss was less gentle than your own – that deep, aching sort of hunger overwhelming his cautiousness as his tongue raked over yours, as he groaned unabashedly into your mouth. You returned his affection emphatically; your fingers soon knotted in his hair, your eager touch preventing so much as the thought of distance between your body and his. Because there never would be distance between you and him. Because there was no reason you should ever have to be taken away from him.

Hours later, when the last traces of light had faded and the stars were painted in swirling patterns across the sky, he would carry you back to his tower – unconscious and pliable in his arms. That would be the first night you spent in his bed, and as he laid there with you, he couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if you never left.

~

The runes carved into Silver’s door were redrawn, Malleus’ enchantments refreshed, and your bittersweet sympathy slowly rotted into a distinctly bland melancholy. You didn’t speak of him (Malleus could only wonder how you ever managed to speak of anyone when so many of his marks so often decorated your skin), but he noticed new scratches around the well-rusted lock on Silver’s door, caught you braiding chains of daisies and crowns of marigolds with no intended recipient in mind, and at night, you tended to slip out of his hold and wander. Sometimes, he waited for you, lying awake as you hunted for whatever solace there was to find in the empty halls of an ancient tower. Most nights, tonight, he chased after you.

He found you in a window near the tower’s highest room, laid across the wooden sill, your back propped against the empty frame. He didn’t ask to join you – wordlessly lowering himself to the floor at your feet. As if by reflex, your hand fell to his horns, your thumb tracing over a particular ridge near the base as you broke the quiet. “Have ever told you why I’m here, dear dragon?”

Countless times, but he still played along. “Who has my heart been stolen by today, beloved?”

“A murderer,” you said, hollowly. “And not a particularly clever one, at that.”

He waited for you to go on, to spin some elaborate tale of love and loss and betrayal and poor humor, but you only lapsed back into silence, your gaze turning back to the pitch-black valley. He watched your vacant expression for a moment, then another before letting his eyes fall shut and resting his cheek against your thigh.

~

Malleus had expected there to be more anger than this.

You were in a similar position to one you’d taken the first time you stumbled into Silver’s chambers – kneeling beside his marble bed, your ever-weary eyes fixed on the unknowing object of your adoration. The only difference was that, today, Silver’s hand was raised to your lips, now slightly parted in shock. He didn’t have to guess at the source of your astonishment. In front of you, Silver was sitting up. His posture was unsteady, his eyes barely open, but the obvious was undeniable.

He was awake.

To think, there was something of merit to Lilia’s stories of true love after all.

Rather than anger, rage, pure and undiluted fury, an odd sort of calm settled over his blank mind as you snapped in his direction. Your astonishment turned to horror in an instant. “Malleus, I didn’t— I was only trying to—”

He put you out of your mercy quickly. He raised his staff and, propelled by some unseen force, you were torn away from Silver’s bedside and thrown against the nearest walls – the force of the collision far from fatal, but enough to leave you limp and unconscious. With your safety ensured, he stepped forward, approaching Silver. He was awake, but only just. So many decades of uninterrupted sleep would not be so willing to release him from their taloned clutches without a struggle, and there was a certain dream-like lull to the way his eyes skirted over the limited scenery before settling on Malleus, his features immediately softening in relief. “Malleus?”

“I’m here.” Malleus allowed himself a small smile before bringing the end of his staff to Silver’s forehead. “You can rest, brother.”

There was just enough time for the edges of Silver’s lips to turn downward before he collapsed back onto the marble slab. Malleus would arrange him later on. For now, his attention turned to you.

He gathered your crumpled form in his arms and carried you through the halls of his lonely tower, before stepping into the clear air and fresh heat of the valley. He laid you in the tall grass and, after taking a moment to appreciate your peaceful expression, brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek tenderly. The spell came to him instinctually, but he took his time, mourning the loss of your time together with each mumbled word. That was a silver-lining of immortality, though. Infinite time allowed for infinite repetition, and he couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to fall in love with you again.

When he was done, your eyes fluttered open, a smile quickly finding its way to your lips. “Hello, dragon.” You gazed darted to either side nervously, your mind struggling to catch up with your clever tongue. “I would love to introduce myself, but it’s the funniest thing – I can’t seem to remember what I’m doing here.”

He bit back a smile. You tried to force yourself into a more dignified position, but barely managed to get an arm underneath you before pausing, wincing, reaching for the back of your head and coming away with blood smeared across your fingertips. Malleus did what he could to hide his delight.

“You’re a thief. You injured yourself attempting to scale my tower. It was an impressive effort, but tragically unnecessary.”

This time, he couldn’t hide the wide, simpering grin that came to rest across his lips.

“I was always going to invite you inside.”

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 6

(Quickly running out of Monster men drawings to use as my chapter pictures. May be a hot minute until I get the next chapter out since my laptop can barely stay conscious long enough to draw another one and I want to only use the monster AU versions of the characters for this series.)

Warnings; multiple yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, monster AU, eating Humans mentioned, more AU history, Cater is not having a very Cay-Cay day, food is an excellent way to bring groups together, Fauns, Satyrs, Kelpies, Crow Fae, Unicorns, Water Nymphs, vampire bats, dragons, cervitaurs, Raiju, Mermen, Cecaelia, Gnolls,

~~~~~~~~

Lunch finally rolled around and you were surprised that Ace and Deuce had actually taken Trey's words seriously and accompanied you to classes. Ace had loudly complained about his volunteering for a little bit but once he saw how many students actually took an interest in you, he stopped complaining and started viewing the task as a kind of important role only he could do. Naturally, Deuce was far less irate about the situation though there were times he almost came across as a punk when it came to others trying to harass you. Both had adjusted well to being around you and come lunch Deuce was actually taking pride in explaining things to you.

"-and that's what makes Fauns different from Satyrs."

"So Fauns are the nicer version of Satyrs?"

"For the most part. Satyrs are known for being loud and always wanting to fight-"

Ace cut Deuce off, shoving an uncooked carrot into the Faun's mouth to silence him. You had seen the two interact and you got the distinct feeling that the Faun and Satyr had more of a brotherly relationship with one another. Where they both had different personalities, when they did agree on something it was practically a law to them.

It was fascinating to hear that these monster men had similar names to the mythical creatures from your world and you wondered why such an overlap existed. Maybe the Humans from your world did interact with this world in the past, or maybe it was just a coincidence. Still, it seemed almost too close to be mere coincidence.

"Anyway, now that Dunce here is done talking-"

"You know my name is Deuce-"

"Like I said, now that Dunce is done talking, I have questions for you, (Y/n)."

You almost laughed at the back and forth banter of the two Goats- Faun and Satyr respectively- as their voices fumbled over one another. Truth was, you had been expecting far more questions than the few they threw at you between classes, so now was as good a time as any to ask.

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"So, you don't have magic? Like, at all?"

"No magic whatsoever. Where I came from, magic is a myth and no creatures have magic."

"Okay. But how do Humans survive? No horns, no claws, nothing to protect themselves from bigger creatures."

"We make weapons. I know you all have bows, arrows, and knives, we have the same. Guns too, but I haven't seen any guns used here."

"Wait, what is a gun?"

"Basically an automatic bow that fires little pieces of metal using explosive powder that needs a spark which launches the metal through their target."

Ace seemed almost excited by your vague explanation of a gun, opening his mouth to ask you another question. His voice died in his throat as his gaze locked onto something behind you, prompting you to turn around to look at whatever it was that had unsettled Ace.

Standing not too far from you was the large figure of the Horse-man Trey. Ace told you he was a Kelpie, but you just couldn't make that connection seeing as he looked like a big white horse and not a water kelp-horse like Kelpies were supposed to be. He was clearly making good on his threat to check in as he approached you with a patient smile on his face.

"Hello (Y/n), have Heartslabyul's first-years been adequate guides for you today?"

"Yes. Grim doesn't even have to try half as hard to keep me safe now and I haven't been late to any of my classes other than the first one."

Trey gave a genuine smile at this, nodding his head as he was pleased to know his choice had been a good one. Seeing the centaur made you wonder about Cater and what may have become of the air-head student. In some ways, you worried asking would have a negative effect, but you were so curious you couldn't help but inquire about him.

"So... What happened to Cater?"

"He is being dealt with by the Headmage. He's lucky he isn't going to get expelled for what he did, but once the Headmage is done with his punishment, he's going to be turned over to Riddle."

"Is Riddle mad about all of this?"

"Well... I actually haven't told Riddle yet. He has a short fuse and isn't going to take Cater's actions well, especially since he asked both Cater and I to protect you if we happened across you. Odds are Cater is going to be collared and kicked out of his room for the foreseeable future."

This made you frown in contemplation at the prospect of the Red-haired student being punished too harshly. Though you were upset Cater took photos of you without asking and likely set several poachers on your trail, you didn't want harm to come to him. Sure, he was stupid and made a stupid choice, but he shouldn't be hurt or kicked out of his home for it.

"... If he is kicked out of his room, is there anywhere else he can go?"

"No. Riddle is very strict about rule-breakers being banned from the dorms so long as they have one of his collars on, and most other dorms aren't keen to house a student that isn't theirs. He's probably going to be sleeping in the Heartslabyul lake if Riddle doesn't ban him from there too."

The morality of the issue weighed on you and made you worry about the ditzy redhead. Though you didn't really trust Cater or his clearly impaired decision making skills, you still felt like he deserved basic decency despite his actions. You knew firsthand how the creatures that lived around campus were genuinely terrifying and dangerous, so you didn't want him thrown to the metaphorical or actual wolves.

"Can... can Cater stay in my dorm?"

Your question earned you several dubious looks from the Goats and Trey as if you had grown another head or said something unhinged. Even Grim had to pause his hesitant raw veggie medley- the only thing the cafeteria served today- to stare at you in surprise.

"You- you want Cater in your dorm? Why?"

"Well, it wasn't like he knew what he was doing was bad, and I don't think he should be left outside for his poor choice."

"(Y/n), do you realize how vicious poachers are in Twisted Wonderland? You will be hunted every moment of every day because Cater couldn't keep himself from posting you to that stupid Magicam app he is obsessed with. The second you are unguarded you will be attacked. The Headmage is even considering assigning Sam and Vargas to your dorm just to make sure poachers can't get in, or even moving you to Diasomnia so Malleus can protect you. I don't think you understand just how seriously we need to take your safety."

"I'm just a Human though, I'm not a princess or someone important. Why all the fuss?"

Your comment made Trey let out a long and exasperated sigh, his gaze leaving your confused form as he tried to keep in mind just how new you were to their world. Humans were never just Humans in Twisted Wonderland, and them simply dying out has made a far felt ripple in the history of every known species. For so long, so many species had adored and tried to protect Humans, but even they couldn't save the fragile species from the hunger so many magic users had for their very flesh.

Most things in the technological realm and cooking realm- pastries and phones included- only existed because Humans led the way to them being invented. Even now, technology has been mostly stagnant for over a hundred years with only the Shrouds having any aptitude as far as advancements were concerned. Trey himself had Humanity to thank for his family's bakery and the many cuisines local to the Queendom of Roses.

"(Y/n), Humans have never been 'just Humans' to us. Maybe to Sunset Savana, but never to the Queendom of Roses. Even Briar Valley had laws in place to protect your kind from everyone else. I get you may not understand it, but compared to most other species, Humans were better than most in the emotional and critical thinking department. It was Humans creating new inventions, coming up with unique ideas, and above all else, peacekeeping between the various species and races to the point they were called Beast-Tamers. Most wouldn't even speak to their Fae counterparts until Humans got the two to interact amicably."

You were somewhat surprised to hear all of this, having been under the impression that Humans were mainly pets to the other species. It was interesting to hear what Humans were credited for and that despite all they did to help, they were still hunted as food until extinction. The few from Savanaclaw you interacted with had been both sides of the spectrum of threatening you or being peaceful to you and it made you wonder just what kind of species were still keen to get a taste of your forbidden flesh.

"Honestly," Trey continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if several Kingdoms and Queendoms sent ambassadors to take you away from Night Raven for your own safety. I just know the international law makers are going to have a field day the moment it becomes common knowledge that you're here."

It made sense that Trey was stressed about this, you knew from your own home how aggressively endangered and near-extinct species had to be protected, but you still felt Cater shouldn't carry all the blame. If it wasn't Cater, it would have been someone else. Just because he was the fool to do it first didn't mean that others wouldn't have tried or succeeded in the same endeavor.

"Still, if he gets kicked out of the dorms tonight, will you at least tell him I will let him stay with me?"

"If you really want me to," he sighed heavily, "I guess I can tell Cater about your offer. I won't tell Riddle though, knowing how that Unicorn is, he will actually harm Cater for even thinking about taking shelter with you after what he's done."

~•§•~

"HE DID WHAT?!"

Riddle was beside himself with rage and even stomped his hooves against the marble floors of the Headmage's office, almost cracking the stone with his rage. Cater was trying to sink into his chair and hide from the Sophomore Housewarden who was beyond the point of furious with the water Nymph. Not only did he get a dressing-down from the Headmage, but he was going to be thrown at the mercy of his own Housewarden who was known for being an absolute hard-ass on rule breakers.

"It wasn't like I was trying to target her! I just-"

"SILENCE! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO, CATER DIAMOND!"

The firm tone Riddle used made Cater shut his mouth and bow his head, trying to avoid upsetting the Unicorn further. There was no way he would be able to go back to his room at this rate and odds are he would be sleeping in the forest if Riddle had anything to say about it. Plus, he still had that essay to write for Trein that was due tomorrow.

"He apparently took a selfie with (Y/n) and posted it to Magicam with hashtags indicating she is Human. By the time I got him to delete the post, it had been downloaded several thousand times. Since then I have already received a call from the Royal Sword Academy Headmage to confirm a Human lives here now, and what we as the heads of our schools can do to protect her. No doubt representatives from Briar Valley and the Queendom of Roses have already been dispatched and will arrive on the island soon enough, not to mention how many poachers are likely on their way here as we speak."

Cater knew how upset Riddle was given the fact the Unicorn's horn was humming loudly with magic and the Unicorn himself was a bright red. Things really weren't coming up Cay-Cay today.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

~•§•~

You felt a bit more comfortable with the school as a whole by the time classes had finished for the day. Practical Magical Theory was an interesting class, even if you really didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. According to Ace, you were lucky you didn't have Flight Class because there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to participate in the class itself. Still, you were happy to have a moment to let things settle down for a bit.

Ace and Deuce walked you to your dorm, but had been called to Heartslabyul by a quick text from Trey, leaving you alone in the dorm with Grim. Despite the beginning of the day being an absolute wash, the rest of the day hadn't been too bad. It was around this time you decided you may as well start on making some dinner. You could hear Grim's stomach growling already as you both went to the kitchen.

"Are you gonna make something good like you did for breakfast?"

"I'm going to try to."

"What are you gonna make?"

"Well, I was thinking we have the stuff here for a really nice soup-"

You were promptly cut off by the Kitchen door swinging open with a loud bang. Clearly, you were going to have to tell the professors or even the Headmage Crow about securing that side door given how it had already been used twice by others seeking to get into your dorm. Luckily for you, those that walked through the door had at least two familiar faces in the group.

"Sorry for interrupting," Lilia called out, happily making his way over to you in an almost bouncy gait, much like a bird hopping around, "hope you don't mind I brought Malleus, Silver, and Sebek too. I heard one of the Heartslabyul students blew the whistle on you being here in NRC. Figured you could use a bit of extra protection in case any poachers try their luck. Besides, the nest here is just as big as Malleus' nest in Diasomnia."

It was then Malleus spoke, his voice a deep rumble in his chest as he looked over you.

"They will not lay a hand upon my hoard without paying with their lives for such a transgression."

It was clear the Dragon was not happy with the events that took place and he seemed to be quite content claiming you as one of his Hoard. When Lilia explained it to you last night, apparently the moment Malleus decided he was adding someone to his Hoard, he became extremely attached to that person and would even become violent in their defense. Given the way others talked about him, he must have been a genuinely frightening and powerful person to command such fear and respect.

"... So does that mean I'm making soup for all of you or..?"

"If you don't mind. I certainly want another bite of your cooking, (Y/n)!"

Lilia took his perch back on the counter and swung his feet, seeming rather impish and almost childish in his behavior. You just shrugged and nodded, gathering enough ingredients to feed the group several times over. Your hope was that there would be some left over for you to take during lunches. As nice as it was to have raw foods once in a while, you'd rather your meals be cooked.

Grim clearly only trusted Lilia and sat next to the Bat to watch you bustle around the kitchen. He even let out a soft purr when Lilia began to pet his forehead and ears. Where you would have scolded them for sitting on the counter, it wasn't like you didn't have enough counter space already. Starting the broth and preparation was rather simple for you and it was clear those standing around you were keen to watch you prepare the soup.

"(Y/n)," Grim meowed, "where did you learn to do all this fancy stuff?"

"Humans usually cook their food. So I just learned while growing up. Of course there are some things you can have without cooking, like a sandwich or a fruit salad, but most big meals are better cooked. Now, that doesn't mean every Human can cook well, but most are good enough at it."

"So does that mean I can have more of the food you cook?"

"Like a bigger portion? No. But you will always get to have some of whatever I make, okay?"

Grim purred loudly at this, his face lighting up with an excited smile. Clearly the little creature was pleased with your arrangement even if it meant he had to go to boring classes with you. The food was absolutely worth it and he got to sleep in a mountain of pillows and blankets after a long day. It was all way better than the hole in the ground he occupied when he wasn't actively running for his life before he met you.

Once you got most of the soup started, you knew it just needed to be covered and cooked, listening idly to Lilia talk with the others about the events of breakfast and the Gnoll that invited himself in. It was when you finally got this moment that you took a good look at the other two visitors who were either Silver or Sebek, seeing as Lilia didn't point out who was who.

Much to your surprise, one of them reminded you of the Kelpie and Unicorn you had met earlier but he had an obvious three point antler rack attached to his head. His lower half was that of a reindeer and was fairly fluffy compared to the short coats of the Kelpie and Unicorn. Part of you wanted to test if he was as soft as he looked, but you figured it would not be considered appropriate to pet him.

The second new face was an almost canine like man with pale green hair that was slicked back and spiked up at the ends. His eyes were intense as was the apparent scowl that held his features, two sharply pointed dog ears atop his head. Bright yellow-green eyes tracked your every move and regarded you with as much curiosity as you regarded him. The similar medium length tail fur swayed lazily as his tail slowly began to wag when you looked at him.

The soup was beginning to smell rather good and it was clear four of the five others in the kitchen were taking note as they occasionally sniffed the air. Lilia, Grim, Silver, and Sebek were clearly keenly interested in the scent but it was Malleus' behavior that caught your attention. Instead of sniffing or lifting his nose as the others did, his forked tongue slowly slid from between his lips like a snake as if he were tasting the air. You almost laughed at the oddly reptile behavior before his gaze suddenly snapped to the door of the kitchen.

Standing in the doorway was a curious looking man that seemed to have fins on the sides of his head. His almost scaled skin had a kind of faint green tint to it with intense blue undertones, his eyes being two different colors with the right one being a pale gray and the left one being a bright gold. Atop his head were tousled blue-green locks with a singular black stripe that crossed over his forehead above his left eye.

"Oya, it seems I'm not the only one with culinary interests. Apologies for intruding, but the lovely smell drew me in. Would you mind telling me what it is you're making?"

You were surprised to see the almost Fish-like man despite how polite he was being with you. Instead of hopping in to defend you, Lilia looked at you for what you wanted to do with this interloper. Malleus seemed rather keen to rid you of this newcomer's presence but you held up a hand to stop him from acting. Part of you worried this new visitor was dangerous, but because he was wearing a school uniform you figured he was just another student.

"Soup?"

"... May I ask what kind?"

"Only if you tell me your name first and what you were doing around my dorm."

"Ah, forgive me. It seems in my haste to get to the heart of the matter, I forgot my manners. My name is Jade Leach, I'm the Vice-Housewarden of Octavinelle. I'm going to assume from your appearance you are the highly talked-of Human now living on campus. Azul informed us that you would be remaining here for the time being. As for what I was doing, I am rather interested in the foods that grow wild above water, so I was out gathering some mushrooms to sample."

He lifted the foraging bag that hung over his shoulder, showing you the contents within. He was right in that he had gathered up a fair few number of mushrooms and there were several that you actually recognized. You were no master of mushrooms- of course- but you still recognized a few species that were safe for you to eat, seeing several button mushrooms among the many gathered.

Those would be great in the soup you were making, and it was early enough that you could add them right in and they would cook just fine.

"Okay, Jade. I believe you were at least out gathering mushrooms which is innocent enough. I'm actually curious if you wanted to trade for some of those button mushrooms you have, they'd go great in the soup I'm making. In return I'll tell you about it and you can have some to eat if you'd like."

Jade actually seemed to brighten up at this, his smile becoming less strained and his expression smoothing from the stressed way his brows had been pulled together. It was almost as if he had been wanting to ask for some soup but was far too polite to actually inquire. He nodded and set his bag on the counter, letting you pick out the little rounded white mushrooms from the selection he gathered.

"I'm quite partial to the cuisines the different kingdoms have to offer. Rare as it can be to find those who are masters of their craft, I would still like to sample the meals above the ocean waves. I would be grateful for whatever knowledge you can share with me. It isn't every day that someone adept at cooking graces this school."

"Hey," Grim interrupted loudly as you set to dicing the mushrooms, "that's my Hooman you're talking to! She only cooks for me, but I'm kind enough to share with all of you. Don't forget it, got it?"

Jade gave a rather patient simper to your primary companion, resting his right hand over his heart in an almost polite gesture.

"But of course. I'm simply interested in learning to make such meals for myself. I'm certain Azul and Floyd would be keen to taste such a wonderful smelling dish."

This seemed to satisfy your little companion as he nodded with a pleased smile, watching you add the mushrooms to the rather large pot you decided to make the soup in. Thankfully it was a cauldron type pot made for cooking soups over firepits. The fire so dutifully warming your meal crackled pleasantly even as you stirred the bubbling mixture.

"Do you want to ask them to come over, Jade? I made way too much. Honestly, everyone here could all have a bowl, a second bowl, and I would still have enough soup for the rest of the week. I think I went a little overboard in the food department. Should have probably started with a smaller pot, but we're already this far..."

Jade seemed surprised at this, but nodded respectfully and pulled out his phone. You were curious just what Jade was as you really hadn't seen many fish-men during your day, but you weren't going to ask him. If he wanted to tell you what he was, that was his business. Didn't make you any less curious though.

"If you're certain? I'm sure Floyd will be thrilled to have something new to try. He doesn't like some mushrooms, but I don't believe he has tried the ones you've selected, and he certainly hasn't tried cooked mushrooms yet. Azul may try to heckle you into a deal, however. He is always looking for new ways to improve the Monstro Lounge."

"Yeah, of course I'm certain. I offered, didn't I?"

He nodded and began tapping away at his phone, but Lilia seemed rather keen to speak up. The Bat had been listening keenly to the conversation and felt he needed to make himself clear to the notoriously crafty student.

"If Azul threatens (Y/n) or tries to force her into a deal, we will have more than a few problems, understood?"

"He is aware. Believe it or not, those of us from the Coral Sea are actually quite fond of the legacy of Humans. Even Floyd has been babbling excitedly about meeting (Y/n) here."

"That's right, Humans were popular among the various merfolk kingdoms. You all even have a famous story involving the mermaid princess falling for a Human and joining him on land."

"Yes. She struck a deal with The Sea Witch to gain legs she could use to dance for the Human man she fell in love with, too bad the deal didn't hide her gills or fins though. Still, the Human loved her."

You listened to the conversation as you stirred the soup, glad that all of the flavors seemed to be coming together rather well despite the large amount of food you found yourself making. Judging from the conversation Lilia and Jade happened to be having, Jade was a Merman of some kind and apparently Mermen were one of the 'safe species' for Humans to interact with. Though you knew not to judge an individual by the species, it did put you at ease to know he was one of the safer ones.

It was as you were taste testing the soup that the door to the kitchen once again flew open as another visitor invited themselves in. It was offical now, four times proved it was far too easy to get into your dorm through that door. Maybe Lilia would be able to fix it for you, or Malleus seeing as Lilia said it was the Dragon who had mostly fixed up your current abode.

"(Y/n), you're an absolute angel! I thought I was going to have to sleep in the woods once Riddle temporarily banned me from Heartslabuyl! He won't even let me sleep in the lake even though I'm a Lake Water Nymph because of what happened. You believe me when I say I didn't mean to put you in danger, right?"

Cater had thrown himself at your feet, holding onto your legs as if he were some abandoned pet seeking shelter from a blizzard. Around his neck was a thick metal collar that extended out to the sides in black and red colors, forming a heart-shape that locked in the front with a golden and black padlock. He was careful not to get in the fire that was dutifully cooking your soup even as he groveled at your feet.

"O-oi! What's the big idea with everyone coming in that door? It's dangerous to leave that thing unlocked."

"That's what I'm saying! So much for protected and safe with that thing in here."

You couldn't help but slightly grin at Grim as he voiced your own concerns out loud. Lilia simply regarded the door, snapping his fingers to close it as a large metal bolt affixed itself to the door before clicking into place.

"There. Now it can't be thrown open anymore. But why is Cater here? Cater, when did Riddle collar you and why?"

Cater seemed to realize there were others standing around you as he suddenly straightened up, clearing his throat and taking several steps back from you. He tried to play off the desperate display he had just shown and was failing miserably. Cater looked much worse for wear than you remembered him being and you genuinely began to hope the Unicorn hadn't actually harmed the ditzy redhead.

"Well... I may have 'accidentally' posted a picture that told everyone that (Y/n) was a Human and was on NRC grounds, but I totes didn't realize it would put her in danger! Honestly!"

Lilia's bemused smile almost instantly fell away into a glare as he regarded the man standing by your side. You added a bit of salt to the soup as you wated, watching the thick broth bubble and roil with vegtables and diced meat. There were a lot of things you could do in that moment, but something told you it was best to let Lilia handle this situation.

"And what did you think was going to happen, Cater?"

"Tbh, I thought that I would just get a follower count boost and everything would be fine. The Headmage and Riddle sure made it clear I was wrong for thinking that. Lessons learned!"

"It only cost us the safety of the last Human left in Twisted Wonderland."

"I said I was sorry!"

Everyone except Cater seemed to be exceptionally upset as they all glared at him, making him duck behind you as if you were the best shield from their rage. You just let the tall student try and fail to escape the ire of the others. For once, a polite knock came at the kitchen door, breaking off the aggressive staredown taking place.

"Hey, why are we here, Azul?"

An almost sing-song voice hummed from somewhere on the other side of the door, prompting Jade to walk over and open the door for who you assumed to be the two he was talking about. In strode a rather lovely looking man with snow-white hair and shining mauve blue eyes hidden behind thin framed glasses. Around his face were lovely and intricate black markings that reminded you quite a bit of the tentacles of an octopus. Behind him lumbered a rather tall man who almost looked identical to Jade if not for the swapped eye color and slight difference in height.

"We're here because Jade told me there is a profitable venture to be had and I am not going to miss out on this chance to make the Human's acquaintance, Floyd."

The shorter one hummed in a smooth voice and you almost giggled at the rather fact-of-the-matter tone that the white haired one spoke with. You felt it was safe to assume the rather lovely man was Azul and the near identical to Jade fish-man walking with him was Floyd.

Floyd almost made a show of sniffing the air, following his nose to where you stood in front of the pot of soup, watching him curiously. Once his gaze fell on you a wide grin overtook the slight frown he had been pouting with. You could see the way his eyes trailed over your figure due to the bright yellow of his right eye highlighting his pupil as it darted up and down.

"Ne ne, what is such a cute little Shrimpy doing this far above the water? You're so small I just want to squeeze ya."

He took a single step towards you and this seemed to be enough for the two- Silver and Sebek- to suddenly intercept him with swords drawn, creating an 'X' that blocked the tall Merman from approaching further. It was more than a little surprising to see weapons suddenly drawn, but maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised. Lilia did say he came over to guard you again and even brought the others for the same purpose.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt them, I just want a little feel on if Shrimpy is as soft as they look!"

"Floyd, that's enough. She was polite enough to allow me to invite you and Azul over and she is quite the rare specimen, you can't threaten her so casually and expect those guarding her to not be upset."

"I didn't threaten, I just said I wanted a big ol' squeeze."

"Same difference where you are concerned."

"Eh, you're so boring sometimes, Jade. Anyway, what is Shrimpy making over there? Smells good~!"

You were stunned at the almost aggressive behavior from Floyd given how calm and level headed Jade had been thus far. Maybe it was just a quirk of Floyd's to be a little more hands on than others. It honestly made you glad to know your self-appointed guards took their task seriously as they still refused to let the large Merman near you. Speaking of your guards, Floyd didn't seem put off by their aggression in the slightest and almost seemed amused by them as if it were all one big game.

Tension was thick in the air as the almost aloof Floyd smiled at you, watching you grab several bowls and begin ladling out ten total servings. You were not really all that surprised when there was still more soup to go even after you filled enough bowls for yourself and the ever increasing number of guests.

Maybe you were right to make so much after all. Hopefully your surprise guests had all shown-

"Why is the door locked? Hey, Human, I smell food in there! I already ate all the Dandelions from this morning! Can I have some of whatever you're making? Please? I'm starving out here."

Peaking through the windows to the kitchen was a familiar grizzled muzzle of the Gnoll you had met that morning. Ruggie was staring with those unsettling bright blue eyes and you were unsure if you wanted to laugh or scream. You scolded yourself in the back of your mind, remembering that animals would often return to places if they were given food prior and no doubt the Hyena man sought to do the same.

"Should I let him in, (Y/n)?"

Lilia asked, eyeing the lock on the door as Ruggie began to loudly whine and cackle for attention. You just sighed and nodded, knowing the Hyena wasn't going to leave now that he knew there was food ready and waiting just inside.

"May as well."

The Gnoll was quick to enter once the door opened and he happily grabbed one of the ten bowls, immediately scarfing down the soup without even glancing at the now large group of men standing in your kitchen. You didn't bother offering a spoon to Ruggie as it was clear he didn't need or want one. Despite the odd group that had gathered under your roof- technically it was the school's roof, but now wasn't the time for semantics- they all seemed keen to dig in when you passed out the bowls.

Getting yourself a bowl- seeing as Ruggie had taken one of the ten- you were able to finally take in the meal of your labors. It wasn't half bad and those button mushrooms added just the right earthy flavor that really brought the soup together. All of your visitors clearly liked the soup as well and Grim was the first to ask for seconds.

"Miss (Y/n)! This is a fantastic meal! I don't think I've had such flavors in anything I've eaten before! I would only think a meal from my liege could possibly taste better!"

"Sebek," the white haired one interrupted the shouting one, "you don't need to yell at her."

"I'm talking at an adequate volume, Silver. You dare say this meal isn't divine?"

"That's not what I said at all."

Lilia giggled as the two odd characters argued, hopping off the counter to serve himself another helping of the plentiful soup. Despite the absolute lack of respect for your personal space they all seemed to share, you couldn't help but smile as well. The many men you had met were odd and so unique in many ways but none of them actually seemed all that bad once they relaxed and got talking.

Maybe these monsters weren't as monstrous as you thought when you first met them. Hopefully their worries of poachers would just prove to be worries, but you knew you weren't truly safe yet and anyone could be a threat if they genuinely wanted to be. You just hoped there wasn't another shoe waiting to drop on your peaceful evening.

~•§•~

"Trey?"

"Yes, Riddle?"

"Invite (Y/n) to tomorrow's Unbirthday party. It has become rather clear to me that no one can look after her the way the Queen demands, so I will step up and take on that task."

"Riddle..."

"She will be safe with me, I will do whatever it takes to ensure it."

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Rapunzel, Rapunzel.

Pairing: Yandere!Vil x Reader x Yandere!Rook (TWST).

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Loose Tangled AU, Prolonged Captivity, Violence (Magic and Physical) and Blood, Dehumanization, Imbalanced Power Dynamics, Vil and Rook Are Making Out In The Corner While Reader's Having The Worst Day Of Their Life, and Manipulation.

The arrows hurt more than the fall.

The fall, you’d been expecting. Rook might’ve been able to scale the tower with little more than a dagger, a few footholds chipped into the weathered stone, and a burning curiosity, but you weren’t so graceful, didn't have the luxury of the physique you might've, had you not spent the last eighteen months restrained to a handful of rooms. You knew that you wouldn’t have the time to be as careful as you needed to be, that you’d be fortunate to make it off of your windowsill before losing your grip, and when the time came to let go and pray you broke an arm rather than a leg, you were ready. You could brace yourself. You could see the threat looming ahead of you, and as Vil called your name in the distance, you were able to fall into its open arms of your own volition.

The arrows weren’t something you’d thought to ready yourself for. Vil’s poison, maybe, the weight of his newest curses being etched into the fabric of your being, but not a weapon, not the sting of piercing metal burrowing into the back of your shoulder, then the plush of your side. Even then, you did what you could to keep running, to move forward through the dense forest despite the jagged rocks and winding brambles cutting through the flesh of your bare feet. You didn’t know where you were going, let alone what to do when you reached your nebulous destination, but you didn’t have to. You needed to get away from Vil’s tower – that was it. You could figure out what to do next after you’d escaped him.

With that in mind, you pushed yourself to run faster, to ignore the pain racing through your upper body as you put a few more steps between yourself and the ever-shrinking tower that sat above the treetops, but even that was an effort cut short. There was a bolt of searing pain, a white flash playing across your vision. Your left leg was buckled underneath you, leaving you crumbling to the ground with a broken, ragged scream. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to swallow the sound back before it could force its way out of your chest, but whether or not someone heard you didn’t really matter. You’d seen him shoot hawks out of the sky mid-flight, thread darts through the eye of needles sitting yards away. Rook wouldn’t fire unless he had his target in sight. He’d known exactly where you were the moment drew his bow. This was just his way of letting you believe you’d ever stood a chance.

This was just his way of letting you believe he’d ever been on your side. 

You pulled your injured leg into your chest, fighting to hold back the pained tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You were tempted to stop restraining yourself altogether and cry until the agony subsided, but your hunter emerged from the foliage before you could start to truly wallow if your self-pity. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve approached you silently, been on top of your fallen body before you so much as noticed he was within arm’s length, but Rook made no effort to conceal his presence. If anything, he seemed to want you to know exactly where he was. There was a deep laugh, the muffled sound of a longbow being swung over his shoulder, the feeling of his body blocking out what little light the setting sun still hard to offer, and then, he was crouching in front of you. A gloved hand cupped your chin as he looked down on you with the same adoring, love-stricken expression he always seemed to wear. You’d always done what you could to return it, in the past, to think of it as a glimpse of sunlight in the darkness that was your life with Vil, but now, it was all you could do to glare and look away.

“Merveilleux.” He wasn’t out of breath, but his voice was airy – barely more than a whisper. His leather-wrapped knuckles ran over your cheek, just as slowly and just as adoring as they had on the day you met – the day you’d woken up to the first stranger you’d seen in weeks kneeling at your bedside, idly stroking your hair and complimenting your lovely (albeit, quite difficult to reach) home. You’d tried to warn him away, to tell him what Vil had done to all the other adventurers and heroes who’d so much as approached his tower, but he refused to listen. If Vil hadn’t taken such a liking to him, he’d be little more than a pile of ash you’d have to sweep up the next day, or better yet – another withering rose left in your windowsill to warn away the next intruder. Vil always did have a flair for the romantic, but he and Rook seemed to have that in common.

He'd changed, since that day. When you first met him, he’d been rough around the edges, his hair uncombed and his skin as calloused as it was burnt. His clothes had been nothing short of a travesty – threadbare and ill-fitting, repaired a thousand times over by someone clearly not used to mending. Now, he was just as much of an embodiment of Vil’s ideals as you were: his hair grown out long and restrained by a violet ribbon, his freckles faded and framed by neatly cut bangs, his clothes of all the same dark silks and pristine furs as Vil would’ve chosen for himself. He was as much of a pet as you were, really. The only difference was how enthusiastically Rook embraced his role and how desperately you tried to escape yours.

“In fact,” he went on, his eyes drifting to the arrows still lodged in your back, your thigh. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful. A damsel pulled from the pages of the most wonderful sort of fairytale, truly.”

“Go fuck yourself.” And then, with a half-choked snarl, “You were supposed to— I thought you were trying to help me—”

“Ah, the searing heat of rage! It shades the color of your eyes with such life.” Rook clicked his tongue, his grin taking on a wry lull. His hand fell from your chin to the collar of your blouse, toying with the mangled fabric as he spoke. “A poor dove, fallen from its nest. Don’t worry, petit oiseau – I’ll make sure you get home before the wolves find you.”

He moved to take you in his arms, but you did what you could to shamble away from him despite your limited mobility. It was difficult to speak, your ribs having taken the brunt of your initial fall and endured further abuse during his first volley of arrows. It was difficult to meet his eyes, knowing what he’d taken away from you, but you forced yourself to do both. You tried to remind yourself that it was still Rook, that you were still facing down the man who’d held you in his arms as you cried, who told you stories of heroes and villains and happy endings when you began to think you might die in captivity, but fond memories were difficult to recall when his arrows were still embedded in your flesh. “You said that— You said that the prince would distract the witch as her captive escaped,” you spat, already aware of how juvenile you sounded, trying your best to stumble through the same story he’d told you a thousand times. You’d taken it as a code, treated it as if you were both colluders in the same scheme, but an ever-growing part of you was starting to think that his stories had only ever been that – stories. “Why didn’t you distract him?” When Rook failed to answer, you bared your teeth. “Were you ever trying to help me escape?”

There was a beat of silence, of stillness. A rabbit rustled somewhere in the underbrush, a robin called out to its mate, and Rook sighed, shaking his head with the kind of humored exasperation a parent might show to a child who just asked about something very, very silly.

He didn’t just toy with your ragged collar, now, but caught it – taking it in his fist and pulling you upright. With his free hand, he took the shaft of the arrow embedded in your shoulder and pulled it free, the head catching under your skin and rendering everything it touched a bloody mess of gore and viscera. The same process was carried out with the arrow embedded in your side, this one accompanied by a searing burn, another second taken to twist the arrowhead free of your skin. You weren’t able to hold back your tears by the end of it, no matter how tightly you clenched your eyes shut, no matter how much it hurt to dig your teeth into the side of your cheek and will yourself not to break down in front of him, not to lose the last semblance of control you had, under Vil’s care.

“I never lied to you,” he said, as he took up the shaft of the third arrow – the one plungest deepest into your thigh. “You know what Vil would do if you didn’t return. I promised you a happy ending, and this is how I intend to give you one.”

With no hesitation, no effort to clot the blood flowing in thick streams from your gaping wounds, he pulled the last arrow free. You let out a fractured wail, doubling over and attempting to curl into yourself, but Rook was already there, already pulling you into his chest as you sobbed openly, freely. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him pull a hunting knife from his belt, the silver of the blade tinted a deep, shimmering violet. You went stiff, but there was little you could do. There was a flash of light caught on steel, a nick of pain in the side of your neck, and then, you were limp in Rook’s arms, quickly losing consciousness as he pulled you against his chest and started towards the tower.

~

You felt velvet against your cheek, first.

Crushed, cool, deceptively soothing – you recognized it immediately, an image of one of Vil’s favored robes surfacing in your mind against your will. Next were the bandages wrapped around your shoulder, your waist, your thigh, then the fur rug underneath you, that of some great beast a would-be hero had once brought to try and rescue you. Vil had wanted to mount the prince’s head on a pike at the base of the tower, but you’d begged him not to, and he’d taken the monstrous stead’s pelt as a trophy, instead.

You took a long, quiet moment to collect yourself, to bask in the last peaceful moment you were likely to have, but your tranquility was quickly interrupted by the feeling of a wooden comb raking through your hair and over your scalp, the teeth dulled by use and the shape familiar enough to make you shudder involuntarily. Vil’s airy laugh played in response, paired with the last traces of Rook’s muttering voice. A new addition, one that left the taste of bile rising up from the back of your throat. One you never wanted to acknowledge again. “I know you’re awake, little one. Might as well face the light now.”

He said that, but when you finally forced yourself to open your eyes, you found that was no light to face aside from the flame of a low-burning candle sitting on a nearby table and the silver-tinted glow emanating from your hair. Clearly, your unconsciousness hadn’t been a good enough reason for Vil not to refresh his eternal youth, tonight.

He’d positioned you as he always did – at his feet, on your knees, with your head resting in his lap. Despite how close you’d come to getting away from him, his expression betrayed no panic, only confident serenity and the slightest trace of smugness. As was to be expected of him. Vil found joy in very little, but somehow, he always seemed to take a certain amount of pride in your defeat.

Your defeat, and your horror. He’d calmed over the course of your captivity, but you could still remember how he’d lorded over you during your first days in his tower, how open he’d been about just how long he’d spent peering your lonely little life in your lonely little cottage, content in the knowledge that no company meant there’d be no one to exploit your magic. Vil hadn’t just ruined that, he’d done it with zeal.

“Raise your head.” It was a command, because Vil didn’t make requests. Reluctantly, you obeyed, and Vil took you by the jaw with one hand, brushing your hair away from your face with the other. Your hair was damp, your ruined clothes exchanged for a black nightdress, simple in design but impeccably crafted. You couldn’t bring yourself to be surprised. Vil’s standards for you were only second to only those he held for himself. It was more than likely that you hadn’t made it more than a step into the tower’s walls before Vil deemed you in need of one of his ice-cold baths and something more presentable to wear. “No cuts,” he went on, turning your head to either side. “But more bruises than I care for. Couldn’t you have been more gentle?”

You opened your mouth, but Rook answered on your behalf. You could remember, only days ago, being thankful beyond words to have a buffer between yourself and Vil, but now, you couldn’t say you felt anything beyond resentment. “The lasting evidence of a struggle can add a rugged undertone to one’s charm. And oh, if only you could’ve seen the way they struggled!” He was behind you, holding you up, on arm wrapped around your waist and his legs spread around you. He leaned forward as he spoke, his chest slotting loosely against your back, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “It was fantastic, like watching a songbird with a broken wing struggle to fly. The relentlessness of desperation paired with the inevitability of its downfall - truly magnifique!”

That earned another laugh, a row of jewel-tipped fingers raked through Rook’s hair. “I’d prefer to keep my songbird in one piece.” And then, after a slight pause, “In spite of that songbird’s best efforts to snap its own neck, of course.”

You shrunk into yourself. You’d tried to escape before, to pick the lock on your bedroom or poison his tea or, on one memorable occasion, to steal the spell book he always seemed to keep at his waist, and there’d always been a punishment to accompany your misbehavior – a crop taken to your back or one of your few privileges revoked. You couldn’t imagine what he’d do to you, this time. You couldn’t imagine that anything could’ve been worse than finally getting out of his tower only to be dragged back and deposited into his arms. “I’m sorry,” you managed, eventually, with only the intent of lessening whatever rage he must’ve held for you. “I… Rook is right. It was futile. I shouldn’t have tried to run.”

“And?”

And? There’d never been an and, before. When you could bring yourself to offer an apology, he’d always either accepted it ouright, ignored you completely, or clicked his tongue and promised that hollow words wouldn’t be enough to prove your remorse. You pursed your lips, but made yourself force something out. Silence would be seen as disobedience, and further disobedience would only make things worse for you. “And, it was short-sighted. I wouldn’t have gotten very far, and even if Rook hadn’t found me, I don’t know where we are. I wouldn’t know how to fend for myself. I—” Your voice cracked, your vision starting to blur once more. “I shouldn’t have gotten carried away by stories and fairy tales. I’m sorry.”

Vil let out a labored, languid sigh. There was one more squeeze to your cheeks, and finally, he let you go, setting down his comb in the same fluid movement. There was a small smile, a tap to his thigh, and Rook drew back just far enough to let you push yourself to your feet. Your legs immediately gave out, but Rook was fast enough to catch you, close enough to lower you into Vil’s lap himself and drink in the appreciative hum Vil offered, by way of reward.

“That’s very sweet,” he started, once you’d settled against him. Rook continued to hover above you, but you did your best to ignore him. “But I want you to apologize to our dear hunter, too.”

Something bitter leeched up from the back of your throat. You opened your mouth as you turned to face Rook, but closed it as soon as you saw him, as soon as you caught a glimpse of that careless grin, those half-lidded eyes. For as hesitant as you were to approach him, you snapped toward Vil reflexively, unable to stifle your reactions. “But, he doesn’t use my—”

“He went through so much to bring you home.” He’d shot three arrows. He’d tracked you like a wild animal. He’d brought you back to Vil after promising that he’d help you get away from Vil – after promising that he’d make sure you got your happy ending. “And he’s been so patient with you, since he joined us. Not just anyone can bear your sulking.”

You tried to protest, but your voice caught in your throat. It was more disbelief, than anything – another variable you hadn’t thought would hurt quite as much as it did. Vil scoffed, and Rook gave you a sympathetic smile, and you sat there, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“He lied to me,” you managed, finally. “He said he would help me escape.”

Vil’s lips quirked downward. You saw his fingers twitch, his spell book pulse with a sickly emerald light, but rather than summon a poison-coated dagger or turn you into some chirping, cage-bound bird for the next day or so, he looked towards Rook, more trust in his eyes than he’d ever afforded you.

You felt sick.

“I said that our ending would be a happy one. The poor dove must’ve misinterpreted what I meant by that.” It would’ve been a mercy if the affection dripping from his tone turned out to be ingenuine. It would’ve been a mercy, to find out he was only ever trying to hurt you. “I hoped that I might be to stay with the two of you – at least for a time. If you think I might be a bad influence,” A flash of a grin, a length of blonde hair allowed to fall over one of his eyes, “Then I only ask that you allow me the time I’ll need to savor a death by your hands properly.”

There was a bark of a laugh, a sharp snap of Vil’s fingers. Your eyes dropped to the floor as Vil caught Rook’s tunic in his chest and pulled him closer, as he’d done with you a thousand times. Fabric rustled against fabric, mouths crashed into mouths, but you willed yourself to ignore it, to just bite your tongue and be thankful that Vil’s attention wasn’t centered on you. To be grateful that you weren’t the only one stuck in this cage, anymore. You tried to be grateful. You wanted to be grateful.

And yet, you couldn’t seem to convince yourself that Rook was a prisoner, rather than yet another lock hanging from the bars of your cage.

[cvlutos]

“Divine nor Forsaken“ Ch.Two

| 02.10.23 | 4.7K | Rated R |

Multi-Character X Male!Reader [TWST: DEMON AU]

GENERAL LIST: | Charaters 18+ |Dark Content|Yandere|War|Death|Violence|Blood|Gore|Body Mutilation | Abuse | Threats | Smut | Noncon/Dubcon | Consensual | Horror | Poly | Drinking Blood | Implied Eating Humans | Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Beloved |

T.Manor.Notes: Please heed warnings.

| Masterlist | Female Version | Gender-Neutral Version |

| Overview | Ch.One | Ch.Two | Ch.Three |

“There are some things, my little dove, that we cannot change. Such is the way with people.”

Your mother’s voice is gentle—calming, as she tucks you in, making sure you’re all tight and warm. Most nights she’ll sing a little bedtime song, stuffing you in your thick blankets, to where you couldn’t move, and forcing you to wiggle like a little worm. Yet tonight, she settles on reading you a story. A story about a boy who befriended all that met him, but none could save him from fate. One who told in a daze-like state, faltering in some parts and stronger in others.

She holds a somber look upon her face, with still a smile placed across her lips as if even in her own sorrow, she can’t help but smile when she sees you. However, her gaze falters for a moment, brows crinkling as her posture changes. She shifts her eyes from you. As if almost regretful. The room is still cold, and you can’t help but shiver and slide deeper into your densely woven covers.

“My little Songbird,” she muses, her hands gripping the red dress fabric across her knees. She keeps her head bowed, “… Promise me… That you’ll find the good within everything and put trust in strangers.” She has a mournful smile, one that doesn’t reach her eyes, as if these were words that she never wanted to be spoken. Never uttered past her tight-lined lips. She lives with regret.

“MOVE!”

A large body hurries past you, frantic hands shoving you to the ground. Your mind takes a moment to register what happens, as a sharp pain shoots through your skull. Your head slams into the dirt floor, a pained cry slipping past your dried, cracked lips. The bubble in your ears seems to pop, another shot of pain, as your hands blindly press against your aching ears, trying to dull the pain.

Screams.

Yells.

Voices on top of voices.

The sounds of rushing feet, pained screams as people trampled over people. A huge crowd formed as all ran towards the woods or into random buildings to hide, pushing those they deemed too slow to the ground or into others. Some shout in rage, to move, to run, to survive. Yet your ears pick up the crying of children, separated from parents, and sobbing mothers clinging desperately to their little ones. And oh, so desperate fathers, swinging useless weapons, doing what a father should. Protecting his family. Even if he fails.

The air smells of fire. The smells of burning wood and burning flesh. Those unfortunate get trapped within a collapsed house, screaming for help, only for a demon to ravage through the destroyed building. Screams for help turn to gurgles and cries of pain.

And the wind does nothing but fan the flames. That forces the voices to travel further and makes the scared crowd worse. Like frightened sheep. The fires grow at fast speeds and ravage the town.

You were shoved; your hands slid from your ears and push against the ground. You lift your head up, then your upper body. Your lip bleeds, and your eyes water as dust gets in. You rub your eyes, gritting your teeth. Your legs scraped along the dirt, blood slowly seeping into the dirt road, your pants torn and filthy. Everything seems to move around you in a fast blur, as if taken picture by picture and put together, yet you still, as if you were the one behind the camera, taking multiple photos at once in hopes of a single good shot. You struggle to move as if your own body was carved out of the heaviest stone and the ground was paper, mere fabric, ready to give way at any moment.

You would fall.

You drop your dirtied hands from your eyes. Letting out a choked breath before trying to move again. Eyes darting around the burning town. To think that only a few hours you walked through, ready for work. Yet now.

It’s ruined. Demons ruined it.

Demons. Looming figures, hunched beasts. With snarling jaws and lanky arms and bodies, with no rhyme nor reason to how they moved. Some staggered as if half-dead, others crawled, and some walked. Or those that few above with torn wings and unhinged jaws, picking up people—prey larger than themselves.

They growl and yell, spitting black saliva as they speak--taunting, eating, and absorbing humans. Sucking them into their gooey flesh.

People you knew.

You struggle to keep yourself together, your breath comes out in short wheezes, and your heart rises to your throat which makes it impossible to breathe. You could die. You watch familiar faces become lifeless, and you can’t breathe. Your hands seize the fabric of your shirt, it’s too tight. The ground seems to give way beneath you. You can’t move--you can’t move. Your legs feel like heavy weights, filled to the brim with sand and became your legs, and as if the pain of feeling like your legs weren’t your own wasn’t enough. You tried to move, to pull yourself forward by your hands, yet it felt as if metal poles plunged into your flesh, forcing you in place. You feel sweat gathered on your skin.

It’s hot.

You feel surrounded. Covered in a layer of your own sweat and dirt, like a heavy blanket, whose threads were coming undone to wrap around your throat and chest. You struggle to stand. Nails clawing into the side of the building, using it to stabilize yourself. You cry out in pain, feeling your legs and head throb.

You should be running, screaming, sobbing. You should be. Yet you feel tired—you are tired. As if all your energy was sucked from your very being. You cough, squinting as smoke stings your eyes. Home. You need to go home. You feel dizzy as you stagger forward, staring through the smoke, through the ever-thinning crowd. Your eyes land on green. The quickest flash, as if almost lightning. A shiver runs down your spine, and your eyes widen.

The demon from before.

He holds a weighty axe, one that isn’t his. Far too small for his large hands, yet coated in red. You feel your stomach lurch, and the smell of blood oozes off of him. He holds the axe as if merely a stick as he swings it lazily, sending only a mere glance to those he struck, his eyes landing on you. Your hands shake, and he makes his way towards you, striking those in his way, whether demon or human. Most know well to remain out of his way. Your body screams at you to move. Move. Move. Move.

“Move.”

As if some foreign voice enters your head, warm and oddly bored, as if it rather be doing anything else. You blindly listen. Nonetheless, you shove off the wall with a panicked sound, stumbling and nearly tripping, ignoring the pins and needles as you force yourself to a gallop sorta like a run, hissing in pain. You push yourself to go as fast as you could, ignoring the burning in your throat as bile rose. The burning of your lungs. It all seems a blur as your falter and slip, yet you don’t stop running. If you do. You’ll die.

You run instinctively home, darting in-between bodies and demons far too focused on their meals. The sky slowly becomes darker, as the fire doesn’t spread towards the trees. You run still, even in the dark, with no moon to guide you and no torch to light your way. You know this path.

You know it well. Your father always made sure you knew the way home.

Your feet barely graze the stone steps in front of your home, nearly slipping, and your body rams into your door. Fumbling with the doorknob, before turning it and hurling yourself inside. You slam the door behind you, scrabbling with the locks, gasping for breath.

Your home is draft. Cold. Unchanged. You step away from the door, eyeing it carefully, letting your body slowly rest. Forcing your tense muscles to relax. You allow yourself to breathe, slightly proud of making it out of the town and fighting off whatever spell was forced upon you. Ridding you of your ability to move. It all seems calm.

BANG

Your body jolts, hands flying over your lips to muffle a scared shriek.

BANG

A series of bangs, thuds, and forcefully panicked hits and kicks, and your door flinches at each one. Yet it doesn’t break.

“[NAME]! PLEASE!”

“PLEASE—”

“I DONT WANNA DIE—”

“HELP! OPEN THE DOOR—”

Your name is screamed like a broken symphony. Equal to a band of shrill untuned instruments that are rusted and worn. As voices—voices that are oh so familiar to you—cry for you. Scream. Beg. Plead for you to only open the door. To let them in. To save them. Voices you know far too well.

Save them.

The old grandma down the street who shares her pies with you—while telling you stories of magic from when she lived in the city. The hardworking miner and his newly pregnant wife, who spent years unable to conceive until early this year, who prayed to the very gods for a healthy baby that they wished to have. The two daughters to the schoolteacher, who always gives you seeds for a garden every time you saw them. The door shakes against its hinges and you step forward, tears close to spilling as your lips quiver. Yet a cold shiver runs down your spine. You weren’t alone.

Your door was unlocked.

The tip of a blade grazes along the center of your back, a silent warning, as a hand ushers you forward. Grip tight and bruising on your shoulder as you pressed up against the door. Which shakes and jolts. You can hear the wood groan and creak, yet still, it remains standing. And the voices. They won’t stop begging.

But it grows. From desperate—frantic—animalistic. On par with the growls and screams of demons. You can feel their desperation change into resentment. Each plea changes into a curse. Each condemning you to hell, to rot with the very demons that will kill them and soon you. Your hands shake violently and you want to help them. To let them inside.

You need to—

“Don't.”

The voice is weighty and cold as if a blizzard took form and made itself comfortable within his throat. You feel a chilly breeze fan across your skin and you shiver, violently. He’s a demon and there’s a portion of you that tense—afraid—yet you feel no intent to harm you.

He’s calming.

It’s a mild threat that freezes your motions. He makes no motion to stop you, expecting you to simply obey. While reminding you of the situation you’re in. And you listen. You press your palms against the jolting door, feeling your heartbeat in your throat, feeling the door shake against your sticky forehead. The one behind you doesn’t make any effort to move nor speak. Letting you—forcing you to wallow in their suffering.

“To think you could run.”

The voice is distant. Beyond your home and outside your door, annoyed and angry. Your heart drops and you squeeze your eyes closed, feeling your throat constrict.

The demon from the tavern.

Your muscles lock and you feel weak. Shaking your head from the oncoming headache. It’s like you could hear him. Feel him. His every breath. Every threatening step he took. The raging hatred from humans. It burns. As if you were tossed into a fire pit and left to painfully thrash around. It burns.

Those that try to run. Try to flee deeper into the forest, are met with howls and distorted laughter as demons that hid within darkened woods take them. Rip them apart and leave them nothing.

You hear final prays.

Final whispers of ‘I love you’.

As the man embraces his wife, hugging her so tightly as if he alone could defy fate. Demons tear them apart. Laughing. Taunting. Faking pity. Yanking them from each other. You hear him shrieking for his wife. His love. Only for his voice to cut off with a roar and the sounds of bones snapping. While the demons laugh. The mother with an unborn child, who prayed for years to become a loving mother. She screams and curses you, curses you for the loss of her husband and her child. She too is met with the same fate.

There’s no pounding on the door, yet the soft whimpers of the daughters, holding each other, while the old grandma is dragged away. Hands clasped and praying still. “[Name]…” The softest calling of your name. A final plea. You don’t hear the two girls scream.

Your knees feel weak, gravity pulling you down as your body trembles. You choke on your breath. The demon lets you fall, removing the blade from your back and taking a large step back. Watching you hold yourself as you cry against the door, shoving your face in your hands.

“Even if you let them inside. They would have still died. It is better they died outside than inside.” It feels like his own twisted way of comforting, yet it doesn’t help. They died hating you.

“Though, I apologize. I wish that it did not have to happen this way.”

His voice is monotone, yet sincere. You try and calm your crying, resting your head against the door. The sound of his shoes echoes as he moves from you. He casually explores your house. You can’t speak to him.

“... Your home is nice and quaint... familiar.” You don’t move. Yet you can tell that it is out of his own nature to speak, but he does. He falls silent and continues searching, using his sword to glance at paintings, pick up pieces of clothing, and open and skim the pages of books, using the blade to flip the pages.

You hear his sword tap the glass of a photo, and his voice breaks the silence. “You remind me of her.” You glance at him, his sword grazing along the glass of a photo of you, your mother, and your father. Your force yourself to look back at the wood of the door. “A splitting image, almost. You look the same as she did when she was young—She acted the same when we had done away with her family—” The air grows cold as if a growing snow storm and dread fills your stomach and grows.

“I hope that you do not end up like your mother.”

That gets a reaction. Your head immediately snapped over to him, brows furrowed and lips down, turning. He isn’t looking at you, but out the window, surveying the land. He seems unbothered by it all. With shoulder-length, silver hair pulled into a ponytail, and eyes of light blue that held a sliver of pity.

“What—”

Your voice cracks, unbearably dry and scratchy. He turns his head to you after a moment, looking over you. He seems to almost frown when gazing. “Yet you look like your father as well.” he takes a step forward and his gaze seems to freeze you. You look down.

With your body still facing the door, the tip of his sword stings against your skin as he raises your head gently, forcing you to look up at him. He tilts his head to the side before crouching down quickly, yet oddly, gracefully.

“... You must head North...”

His words are simple and transparent and he steps away, glancing towards your dining room table. He strides slowly to the table, the heels of his shoes clicking. He picks up the letter and looks over it. You want to tell him to put it down. Yet his brows scrunch up and for a moment you think he’s going to take it.

Yet he doesn’t.

“The course has been set for you. You must merely find the signs.”

He drops the letter, and with a frosty breeze, you’re alone. At the disappearance of the demon, your body drops, a sudden wave of exhaustion makes it hard to move. You let out a shaky breath, and after a moment, you pull yourself to your feet and wobble away from the door.

It’s silent. Far too silent. You need to leave.

You stagger up the old stairs, feeling one almost give way, breaking beneath your feet. Yet you’re quick to dart over the broken step, stumbling to your room and shoving open the door. You pack blindly, throwing only the most travel-fit clothes and shoes. Anything you could need, throwing spare money, tools, anything, and everything as you take your bag and stumble down the steps, preparing loads of food to take with you. The ramshackle isn’t safe.

You stand in front of the wooden door. There would be no returning. No do-overs. Nothing. You would never come back home. You drop your bag and slowly look over your home. A home you’ve lived in for years. Your parents’ home. You ignore the anxiety that fills you, as your turn back to the door.

Slowly, you undo every lock and hold the knob, counting the seconds before pulling the door open. The foul stench of copper paints your tongue and feels your senses completely, as blood paints the ground, soaking into the dirt and staining the trees. Bodies upon bodies lay ripped, torn, destroyed. Each resting at the oddest angles, heads turned in ways they shouldn’t. You take a hesitant step back, only to bump into something solid. You freeze, your hands and body shaking as cruel arms wrap around you. “You caused this.” His voice is husky in your ears and he tightens his hold, your knees nearly buckling as he slowly rests his weight on you. The demon from before, with the green hair. He continues squeezing, and it hurts.

He’s hurting you.

“Bugs. Should be with bugs.” There’s a sentiment of hatred, and you groan in pain, unable to move an inch. You can feel your bones crack. “They lived together. It’s only right you die together.” He sneers viciously, tightening his hold, and you wheeze and wiggle like a fish forcibly removed from the water. Fighting a fight you can’t win, and from the corner of your eyes, lime green eyes seem to glow, with a vicious grin spread across his slips, revealing red-stained canines. “Humans truly are pathetic.” As you feel every bone was shattered, your ribcage collapses into each other.

Your life flashes before your eyes. Your mother. Your father. You scream in pain, thrashing around more on reflex than consciousness. The letter. Blood slips past your lips, as bones break through your skin.

You haven’t read the letter from your father.

══════ ♡ ══════

“It is rare to hear from you.”

Bored grey human eyes stare into the richly colored crimson liquid. The coppery smell filled his nose and swarmed around his brain in the most delightful way. The thick liquid rests idly in his porcelain teacup, which he holds delicately. He occasionally sips, taking his time to slowly drink the warm, fresh blood. Bringing the glass up to his lips and slowly partook in the thick fluid, a pleasant sigh vibrating in his throat. For a moment, he forgets that he isn’t alone and has an unexpected guest.

One from the Kingdom and the seventh army.

“Though it is not an unpleasant surprise, General.” The grey-eyed demon gives a small boy, and the demon general gives a pleasant greeting in turn, large eyes in taking the nicely decorated tent that smelled of blood and roses. The commander’s favorite smells, though the demon of pride would never speak of it. Magenta eyes move from the decor to the commander himself. It has been quite some time since he last saw the young demon. He hasn’t changed. Same small stature, with often cold grey eyes, and flushed peachy skin, with two black obsidian ram horns, with rose red tips, framed perfectly on the side of upper foreheads with straight red hair. A human form that the demon commander took great pride in. Spending days to fashion the perfect look, based on an old human monarch.

The commander shifts in his seat, offering a small smile, his white-gloved hand silently motioning to the empty chair across from him.

The General chuckles. The commander has always been so respectful and tries best to make the best out of surprised visits. Especially from demons of higher rank, and the General from the seventh is exactly that. Even as he takes the form of an innocent short man, yet speaks like an old wise bat.

“And a pleasure. As always to see you, Riddle.” The general bows as he floats above his chair, a small gust of wind blowing from the release of his magic as he plops into his seat, gently rocking the table.

“I hate to go so long without visiting. I have quite missed our tea times, Sanguinum.”

The commander of the first army, Sanguinum. Or Riddle Rosehearts.

Riddle lets out a low hum, once again picking up his cup and sipping from it, closing his eyes for a brief moment. His eyes flutter open, “As have I. 38 years since the last time, I believe.” The demon of Pride places his red and white porcelain teacup back on its saucer and stands. Waving his hand, letting magic pour the guest “tea”, before with another wave returning the pot black to its place.

“Has it been that long?” the general’s eyes widen in disbelief before laughing, “oh my! How time flies.” The General with pink and black hair sighs in delight the moment he takes a sip of the blood. He can taste the sweetest, probably from a woman of middle age. Riddle always did prefer sweeter-tasting humans.

“Indeed. It goes quite fast.”

The commander waits a moment, his mood going from relaxed to uptight, his posture slowly straightening. “Then you must be here for good reason.” The general tilts his head to the side in faux confusion, taking another long gulp.

“And can it not be here to merely see a friend?” He batters his lashes, and Riddle’s face falls, giving a knowing look. The general only laughs, placing his cup on the table, propping his elbows up, and interlacing his fingers to rest his chin upon.

“Tell me what troubles you.”

Riddle hesitates for a moment, before sighing. “If I’m not intending to fight, then I should be sent back.” The room drops a couple degrees, and Riddle’s face dips for a moment, and he forces his gaze to his cup, gently swirling the glass. The general wears an apprehensive expression. “Riddle...”

The general’s voice falters, eyes once again scanning around the pseudo-room. It’s filled with different trophies and winnings from the last 15 years since the war started. Such as prized tea sets, clothing, tools, jewelry, and anything and everything he and his army took from the villages and towns they raided.

15 years. But to be sent back. Back to beneath to the realm of Demons.

A part of the general agrees, the first army has been out on the front lines for a few years, 20. Five years merely searching for the pact bearer and another 15 for when the war began. Yet it is only the North conquered. With still the west, east, and south that have yet to be within the King’s control. And well…

“I am honored to have fought for the king.” Riddle’s voice breaks his through the process, hand subconsciously rubbing over the back of his hand, where his pact once was. A once calming action now... torturous. To lose the one who knew your mind and body, it must hurt—it does hurt. The general’s hand itches to move, yet he stops himself.

“I—I cannot guarantee anything, but I will talk to him.” The commander seems to brighten up, a relieved look crossing his features, before settling into a more relaxed posture. The two talk for an hour, telling stories and telling, catching up on the last 38 years. There’s a feeling of familiarity.

“Before you go, General.” The general stops mid-stretch, listening to the sound of the teacup gently clinking against the matching saucer. He glances over his shoulder, face changing from a grin to one of full perturbation. Riddle has a dark expression as if just remembering something gravely important.

“We must speak about Callidus.”

══════ ♡ ══════

You awake with a gasp, your body automatically jumping as if leaping from death’s hands. Pain shoots up from your right leg and you screech, unprepared and confused. You try and gather your thoughts, feeling sweat accumulate on your skin, your stomach churning, and head pulsing achingly. You feel nauseous.

You try to move, hands clutching the wood that held you, your head turning to look down. Half of your leg, up to your mid-thigh, was bleeding and disappeared beneath the broken wooden step. It had broken beneath you when you tried going upstairs, and you slammed your head and fell unconscious. You were alone and before… what happened before was a dream.

Only a dream.

Even if it was a dream, you still have to leave. But with your leg, you grimace, you’d have to wait. And you’re also exhausted and sure that sleep wouldn’t greet you. You groan in pain, hands clawing at the wood and slowly pulling yourself up. You wince, careful to not move your bleeding leg.

It doesn’t feel broken.

Your face scrunches as your use the wooden banister to pull yourself. It feels like hours until you’re free, using your bruised good leg, to carefully climb the rest of the stairs, using the wall and railing to support you. You hop to your room, groaning at every moment. Your body ached, painfully so. Pushing the half-lidded door to your dark bedroom, hobbling over to your vanity, and rummaging inside the top drawer. You keep your head down, using the very limited light to search for any cloth to wrap your leg and medicine would be in the bathroom.

“It has been—what—18 years since I last saw you. Barely two years old.”

You freeze, hands clutching random pieces of cloth, the voice came from behind you, from the furthest corner of your room. You can’t will yourself to look. Yet you do, looking through the mirror, across your room, a man shrouded in darkness, yet with striking green eyes. Boredom radiates off of him in waves, yet a sense of blatant honesty. Not because he values honesty, but moreso, lying to him would be pointless. It feels like he knows you, every move you’ll make, every thought you’ll ever have. He can read it off as if it was merely a book, a book that he wouldn’t be bothered to read.

“I’m not here to kill you.”

Yet his plain words don’t reassure you. He moves from his corner, and you blindly step away, momentarily forgetting about your leg and yelping out before landing on your side. As if he knew that would happen, he snorts under his breath, staying in the darkest parts of your room, deliberately closing the space between you. Like predator circling prey, but as well as if he wasn’t an intruder. But someone who lived here and had every right to be here.

“Then—Then, why are you here?” Your voice falters and he shrugs almost, tilting his head to look at a carved wooden box you were gifted, before placing it down after deeming it uninteresting. It does this with several different objects, looking at them, before finding them boring and placing them down where it was.

You watch at him, and you can tell he has long hair that goes down to his shoulders, and warm brown skin, with a tail and ears, but horns that were broken off, jagged edges gleaming. He was a demon. You can see him roll his eyes at your sudden conclusion as if it wasn’t completely and utterly obvious.

He drags out a long sigh, falling into an old rocking chair your father made, rolling his neck as to remove the aching. Very human action and your shoulders drop. You should be scared, yet he reminds you a little bit of your mother. The tiniest familiarity, like when you hang around someone long enough, you pick up their habits.

“… I’m here to,” he thinks for a moment, looking over you before letting out a low annoyed sigh, as if what he was about to say would kill him, “to make a pact.”

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Domineer.

Commissioned by the very lovely @mars-syndrome.

Pairing: Yandere!Rook x F. Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: ABO Dynamics, Non/Con, Slight Knife Play, Outdoor Sex, Predator/Prey Dynamics, Mentions of Imprisonment, Slight Dissassocation, and Very Bad French.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew that this was exactly what he wanted.

Not he’d ever tried to hide his intentions. Rook was a lot of things, Rook was a lot, but he wasn’t secretive, he never tried to hide what you were to him – something to hold close, something to pin down, something to send out into the darkness and chased until he’d had his fill of hunting you, until he was ready to drag you out of your hiding place and back into his arms. He’d said as much as he undid your restraints, as he guided you up from the cellar of that awful, isolated cabin and explained just how long he was going to give you, just which weapons he was going to let himself use, just how many miles stood between you and the nearest hint of civilization, and you knew that by playing along, by running when he wanted you to run, by biting as his hands and bolting for the tree-line as soon as you were unbound, you were only making things worse, only giving him an excuse to treat you less like a person and more like an animal, more like his prey.

You knew that. You weren’t an idiot. You knew what you were doing, and that you’d be better off digging your heels into the dirt, crossing your arms, and refusing to do anything he said. You knew that. You knew what was going on.

If only you'd actually had a choice.

You knew he was close, too. You’d gotten a head-start, but he could’ve given you hours and it wouldn’t have made a difference. You didn’t know this forest, didn’t know which way to run, and even if you had, you were still barefoot, still freezing, still struggling just to stay on your feet as you stumbled over twisting roots and shouldered past gnarled branches. You tried not to leave a trail, to avoid clearings and trenches and fallen twigs, but you didn’t have a lantern, and you could already hear him, calling out from somewhere behind you, laughing and singing your name as he tracked you through the pitch-black woods. You were tempted to yell back, to express your frustration with something more direct than bared teeth and hateful thoughts, but you settled for cursing under your breath and digging your nails into the heels of your palms. He’d catch you eventually, but you could try to put that reunion off for as long as the universe would allow.

Or, maybe you couldn’t. You made the mistake of attempting to glance behind you, of trying to see anything through the moonless night, but as soon as you’d looked away, something sprung up in your path – a tangle of vines and shrubbery, catching your feet and wrapping around your ankles, tripping you up before you even realized it was there. You didn’t fall, but you stumbled, your shoulder colliding with the trunk of the nearest oak with a hollow, heavy thud. The noise wasn’t loud, and anyone else might’ve attributed it to a clumsy deer or a lost owl, but instantly, Rook went silent, what little evidence there was of his presence disappearing in the time it took for you to straighten your back and start running, again. It was useless, though, too little too late.

A second later, you were on the ground, your chest pushed against the soil and a knee pressed into the small of your back. You couldn't see Rook, but you didn’t need to. You could feel him hovering over you, his sharp stare prying into your flesh, and you could picture his expression, his eyes half-lidded, his lips quirked into something you didn’t want to call a smile. You made a half-hearted attempt to get your arms underneath you, to struggle against him, but his knee bit into the base of your spine and his hand found its way to your shoulder, shoving you downward. “That’s enough, mon amour.” Smooth, soft, unbothered. This was nothing, to him. It took nothing for him to do this to you. “You scared me for a moment. If I’d been a little slower, you may’ve had a chance of getting away.”

You growled, the sound bubbling up from somewhere low in your throat. You didn’t resist, didn’t try to fight against him, but you squared your shoulders, pushed back against him, did what you could to safeguard the ounce of dignity you had left. “Don’t touch me!”

There was a breathy laugh, a light tap to your bicep. He was always like that – so nonchalant and so relaxed, you had to wonder if he took any of this seriously, if he cared that you hated him and his sick, sick games. You doubted it would’ve been better if he was more brash, more stoic, faster to anger than he was to delight, but it might’ve made being with him more bearable. It might’ve made some part of this feel a little less excruciating. “That’s no way to talk to someone you love. Especially not after they’ve only just put so much work into keeping you out of trouble.” A slight pause, then his weight shifting over you. His knee fell to the gap between your open legs, his chest slotting itself against your back. “How desperately I wish you were aware of your own scent. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you so panicked – or so sweet, of course.”

You did what you could to ignore him, to think of anything else. His own scent rarely changed, smoked cedar dashed with something metallic, something that grew more intense as his mood worsened, or improved, or changed at all. Right now, the stench of it was almost overwhelming, copper and rust rolling off of him in steady waves. That might’ve been why you were so irritated, why your frustration threatened to outweigh your fear. You’d never liked being around other alphas. It made you feel… on edge, even when they weren’t straddling your thighs.

“That’s not—” A slight sigh, a nip to the side of your neck. You wanted to claw at him, to wrap your hands around his throat, but you settled for gritting your teeth and spitting the words, as you went on. “Nothing about me is sweet. Your nose is just as fucked up as your head.”

“Au contraire,” You felt him pick himself up, lift himself off of you. You attempted to follow, to start to stand, but you didn’t get far before he caught you by your forearms, dragging them to the center of your back and binding your wrists together with a length of braided rope. You glanced over your shoulder, prepared to protest, but his eyes caught yours and you swallowed down your complaints before anything could slip out. “I’ve met flowers less pleasant than you, mon pétale. Sharing your company is like lying in a field of blooming roses, if you’d allow the comparison.” He fell back, his weight leaving you completely, but before you could relax, his hand was on the back of your shirt, dragging you upward and into his lap. Your body fell against his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist, forcing you to accommodate him, to let him hold you like some small, docile thing. “If I’m being completely honest, I took you for an omega when we first met. You still do seem like one – to me, at least. When we’re together.”

The hand at your hip drifted, fell to brush against your inner thigh. You stiffened, lurched away from him, but in the blink of an eye, he’d drawn something from his belt – a hunting knife, sleek and silver, the blade soon planted in the ground less than a hair’s width from your calf. Instantly, you went still, freezing against him.

“I-I’m not.” You’d be better off keeping your mouth shut. You’d be better off not saying anything at all, but that never felt like an option. Not with him. Not when it came to this. “I’m an alpha. You’re supposed to know that.”

“And I do. And I love that about you.” Despite how frequently he spouted his mantas on the value of beauty and aesthetics, he seemed to prefer keeping yours relatively simple, if not as plain as it could possibly be. Even now, you were dressed in little more than one of his button-down shirts and panties made of such thin, lacey fabric, they only seemed to make the feeling of his thumb tracing over your slit through the material more pronounced, less ignorable. You did what you could to block it out, to focus on some distant point on the obscured horizon, but Rook was good at that, catching your attention and holding it, tracing delicate circles into your clit as he latched onto the crook of your neck, onto the spot a mating mark would’ve gone if either of you were an omega, if either of you were supposed to be doing this. “You’re my little alpha. My precious beast, just waiting to be tamed.”

You grit your teeth, clenching your eyes shut. He was trying to tease you, to touch you so lightly and so fleetingly, your body would be forced to act on its own, to buck and grind and chase blindly after pleasure until he could lie to you, until he could claim that he was only giving you what you so clearly needed. You did what you could to brace yourself, to go stiff and still and silent, but your locked jaw and balled fists might’ve been more damning than any whiny, pathetic sound you might’ve let crawl up your throat. You heard him click his tongue, the action more playful than irritated, and quickly, almost cruelly, he changed course, ground the heel of his palm into your clit with a harsh sort of pressure. You reacted automatically, lurching forward as if he’d struck you. There was a deep laugh, in response, bubbling and terrible. You tried to imagine prying open his teeth, ripping out his tongue and pouring acid over his vocal cords, but unsurprisingly, the fantasy did little to comfort you.

He didn’t try to tease you, this time. With no spared grace, your panties were pushed to the side, two fingers traced over your slit to gather up what little slick there was. Again, you started to twist in his hold, to writhe against him and shove your shoulder into his chest, but he didn’t let you go, or restrain you further, or do anything other than lull forward and nuzzle into the side of your neck. This was the part you hated, more than the hunting, more than the captivity. You didn’t want to let him feel like he had that kind of power over you. You didn’t want to let him feel like had anything over you, especially not control over your own body.

But, he didn’t care. Before you had a chance to beg, to struggle, to do much of anything at all, he was already pushing two fingers into you, already filling you with that familiar, invasive sensation – not quite strain, but crushing enough to be mistaken for it. You could feel it pressing against the back of your throat, tying knots in the pit of your stomach, only growing more suffocating, more oppressive as he spread his fingers apart and curled them inside of you in turns. As he edged you towards something so, so much worse.

It hurt. Not the penetration, not the thumb now drawing rough patterns into your clit, but the rest of it, the feeling of his breath on your skin, the shroud of his body curled around yours, the awareness of who was doing this to you and how little you could do to stop him, to defend yourself. All of it, everything only made the way he touched you that much more painful, that much more likely to make you gasp and whimper and shriek whenever he brushed against something more sensitive, something more vulnerable. You struggled against the rope, shouldered at his chest, but he only brought up another hand to cup your chin and hold you in place. It wasn’t enough to stop you, but he was able to keep you still, to tilt your head back and force you to stare up at his calm, terrible smile. When he ducked down, his lips came to rest against yours in something you wouldn’t call a kiss. It was too gentle, for that, too light. You couldn’t even feel it. You didn’t want to feel it.

But, he didn’t give you any other choice. With another second, another wave of abuse to your cunt and your clit, your climax was forced onto you like the iron head of an arrow plunged directly into the hollow of your chest. It was quick, brutal, but once the aftershocks began to dull and Rook pulled away, you were able to breathe, to shrink into yourself, to relax. He had his fun. He’d hunted his prey, and he’d caught it, and he’d reaped the rewards. He’d take you back to that dark, lonely cabin, and you’d be able to process the last few hours, minimize what you’d done and what he’d done to you. You’d be able to—

You felt his hand on the center of your back, a sudden force, then the ground pressing on your chest, the foliage scraping against your skin. His body was on top of yours in the blink of an eye, and he was taking you by the hips, drawing you up, onto you knees. Your mind went blank, briefly, terror overriding every practical thought you could’ve had, and then, you started to panic.

“Please, please, please don’t.” You would’ve been ashamed of yourself if you'd had that kind of luxury. This could't happen. Not here. Not right now. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. You wouldn’t be able to take it. You wouldn’t survive. “I— I’m not— Please, Rook, I’ll do anything, just don’t—”

“How prettily my songbird sings!” His composure only made things worse. If he’d been angry, if he’d been violent, it might’ve been better. A mindless act of malice and loathing. Something you could tell yourself, as hard it might’ve been to believe, he hated just as much as you did. “This is your first time with another alpha, no?”

“Anything else, please, anything—”

A hand in your hair, jerking your head back, then something cool pressed against your neck. The hunting knife. You’d managed to forget it was there. “It’s rude to ramble when someone asks you a question, mon amour. I’m still waiting for an answer.”

You managed to inhale, to choke back a sob. You hadn’t realized you were crying until tears started to blur your vision and you felt something sharp begin to crawl up your throat. “It... it is.”

He took his time, bending down, his mouth just barely ghosting over the curve of your shoulder blade. He might’ve been trying to comfort you, or less generously, take just a little more time to take in your ever-mounting fear. “You don’t have to worry.” His breath on your skin, his teeth just barely making contact with the side of your neck. “I’ll be gentle with you, little alpha.”

Liar.

If letting him spread you open was painful, then this was torture. He gave you no time to brace yourself, no time to adjust, your comfort barely a second thought despite his shallow promises. There was pressure, somewhere low in your core, and a slight stretch as he bottomed out, as his cock pressed into the walls of your cunt as tightly as it had in the worst of your nightmares, but there was something else, too, something that ran deeper. You could feel it in your veins, in the back of your skull, pounding and throbbing and thrashing against whatever Rook had forced inside of you. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t what you’d been built for. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

And yet, it was.

And yet, you were the only one who’d ever have to suffer for it.

You went limp, but he didn’t seem to mind. Before you could fall, an arm was wrapped around your midriff and his mouth was on your throat. His pointed canines dug into the crook of your neck, as if he thought he could mark you, as if he thought he was doing anything other than breaking skin and drawing blood. That might’ve been what he was trying to accomplish, though. He groaned as he licked over the wound, his steady pace growing more rapid, more chaotic, less of a controlled barrage and more of a haphazard assault. Blunt nails burrowed into your side, his tongue lapped over the wound, and the knife turned, slipped so that the dull edge pressed into your chest and the blade tore downward, through your borrowed shirt, leaving you that much more exposed, that much more at his mercy. The knife was driven back into the earth a second later, just above your head. There was no shock, this time. No dread accompanied the lingering threat. You felt nothing. There was nothing.

Distantly, you heard his breath hitch, and you felt him draw you closer, drag you closer. You saw, from somewhere else, yourself reacting to him too, your body trembling, your mouth falling open as you convulsed underneath him. He followed shortly after, moaning something that you did your best not to make out, and suddenly, you felt warm, full, unbearably tired. When he let you go, you collapsed, too drained to do so much as attempt to stop his cum from dripping down your thighs. You wanted to sleep. You wanted to go home. Wherever ‘home’ was, anymore.

“Oh, poor pétale. I suppose I may’ve gotten carried away.” The ropes binding your hands loosened and fell away. You hadn’t seen him pick up the knife, but you didn’t think to question it, only collapsing onto your side and crossing your arms over your chest. If it did anything to help, you couldn’t tell. “Pas de soucis – you can rest. I’ll take care of my sweet alpha.”

You felt his arms wrap around you, lifting you off of the ground and into his chest, but you didn’t try to fight him, to resist. You didn’t bother to.

It wasn’t like there was anything you could ever do to stop him.

[linawritestwst]

𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☀ all dorm members ☀

♡ savanaclaw dorm members react to your love confession ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ savanaclaw dorm members react to a passionate kiss headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ savanaclaw jealousy headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ savanaclaw and rook hunt pining headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of angst, no warnings)

♡ savanaclaw helping an overworked s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ how twst characters would fall in love with you ♡ (gn!reader, mostly fluff, no warnings)

☀ leona kingscholar ☀

♡ leona and jamil finding their s/o stuck up a tree headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ watching leona, jamil and deuce workout headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, warning for slightly suggestive themes)

♡ dorm leaders with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, warning for mentions of bullying)

♡ reader cuddling up with leona to get some sleep headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ leona, jamil and deuce comforting the reader that has scoliosis headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, hurt/comfort, warnings for mentions of health problems and insecurity themes)

♡ dorm leaders x s/o who loves to give them flowers headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders fake dating headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders with a disney princess-like s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ riddle, leona, azul and jamil x s/o who's traumatized from overblot incidents ♡ (gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no warnings)

♡ leona, epel, azul and floyd reacting to their s/o doting on their tsum tsums ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ leona, ruggie, trey and kalim x s/o who's terrifying when angry ♡ (male!reader, fluff with elements of comedy (but also has some sad moments), no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders x s/o who comes from a wealthy family headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ ruggie, jamil, leona and vil x reader who likes to help them out headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders reacting to an idol!reader performing a love song for them ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ trey, jack, leona and ace x shy chef!reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ leona, silver, jamil x s/o who pets their heads and sings them a lullaby when they sleep ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ third years finding your doodle of them with hearts around it headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ "it grew and burst into a love so bad that it feels good"/yandere!reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for general yandere content, toxic relationships, descriptions of manipulating and stalking and implication of murder)

☀ ruggie bucchi ☀

♡ ruggie bucchi and silver as husbands headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ vice dorm leaders with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ riddle, azul, idia and ruggie with a s/o who teases them in a loving way ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ leona, ruggie, trey and kalim x s/o who's terrifying when angry ♡ (male!reader, fluff with elements of comedy (but also has some sad moments), no warnings)

♡ ruggie, jamil, leona and vil x reader who likes to help them out headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ vice dorm leaders x reader who used to be an assassin in their world headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, warnings for mentions of murders, death, weapons and some minor physical violence)

♡ him taking care of you + you taking care of him ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, no warnings)

☀ jack howl ☀

♡ octavinelle trio and jack x s/o who doesn't think she's beautiful headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff with elements of angst, warning for mentions of bullying)

♡ first year students with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ first year students trying to confess to an oblivious reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ trey, jack, sebek and jamil taking care of their sick s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ idia, vil, jack and azul taking their s/o on a date headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ malleus, deuce, jack and idia with a s/o who has chubby cheeks headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ first years x strong and heroic s/o headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ trey, jack, leona and ace x shy chef!reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ jack x reader who's based on little red riding hood headcanons ♡ (male!reader, fluff, no warnings)

[linawritestwst]

𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☽ all dorm members ☽

♡ diasomnia x dragon-like s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ diasomnia x s/o who has the same unique magic as isabela's (encanto) headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ diasomnia x goth gf headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ diasomnia reacting to their s/o paint them headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ diasomnia reacting to your baby photos headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ how twst characters would fall in love with you ♡ (gn!reader, mostly fluff, no warnings)

♡ platonic diasomnia headcanons (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

☽ malleus draconia ☽

♡ malleus draconia x s/o who is insecure about their smile headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, angst to fluff, no warnings)

♡ vil, rook and malleus x s/o who doesn't think she's beautiful headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff with elements of angst, warning for mentions of bullying)

♡ jamil, idia, malleus and riddle with a flirty s/o who gives them a lot of gifts headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of angst, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, warning for mentions of bullying)

♡ dorm leaders x s/o who loves to give them flowers headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders fake dating headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders with a disney princess-like s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ malleus, deuce, jack and idia with a s/o who has chubby cheeks headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ yandere!malleus draconia headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, warnings for yandere themes, mentions of an unhealthy relationship, manipulating and stalking)

♡ dorm leaders x s/o who comes from a wealthy family headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ riddle, azul, vil and malleus going ice skating with their s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ rollo, malleus, jamil and azul being jealous because of you doting on grim and the first years ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders reacting to an idol!reader performing a love song for them ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ riddle, deuce, silver and malleus x reader who was a knight headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ malleus draconia x reader x neige leblanche poly headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ third years finding your doodle of them with hearts around it headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ ace, deuce, floyd and malleus finding out that you had a s/o in your world ♡ (gn!reader, angst, warnings: no happy ending, malleus's part has yandere themes)

♡ yandere!reader x twst's biggest red flags ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for possible ooc, general yandere themes, themes of obsession, mentions of manipulation, murder and death, implications of suicide)

☽ lilia vanrouge ☽

♡ trey, jamil and lilia with a dramatic s/o who praises their cooking headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ diasomnia reacting to the reader being malleus's younger sister headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ jamil, trey, epel and lilia with a s/o who has trust issues headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, hurt/comfort, warning for betrayal themes)

♡ vice dorm leaders with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ rook, vil, cater and lilia with a s/o who wears alternative makeup headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ lilia x reader who was a general fighting against briar valley ♡ (fem!reader, warnings for mentions of war, yandere themes, possible ooc, mentions of obsession, scars and some physical violence)

♡ vice dorm leaders x reader who used to be an assassin in their world headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, warnings for mentions of murders, death, weapons and some minor physical violence)

♡ third years finding your doodle of them with hearts around it headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ yandere!reader x twst's biggest red flags ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for possible ooc, general yandere themes, themes of obsession, mentions of manipulation, murder and death, implications of suicide)

♡ him taking care of you + you taking care of him ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, no warnings)

☽ silver ☽

♡ ruggie bucchi and silver as husbands headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ diasomnia reacting to the reader being malleus's younger sister headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ silver, rook and vil catching their crush bridal style headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ trey, jamil and silver x s/o who is a good listener headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ riddle, deuce, silver and malleus x reader who was a knight headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ leona, silver and jamil x s/o who pets their heads and sings them a lullaby when they sleep ♡(gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

☽ sebek zigvolt ☽

♡ trey, azul, epel and sebek working on a project with a clueless reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ first year students with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ first year students trying to confess to an oblivious reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ trey, jack, sebek and jamil taking care of their sick s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ diasomnia reacting to the reader being malleus's younger sister headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ first years x strong and heroic s/o headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ "it grew and burst into a love so bad that it feels good"/yandere!reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for general yandere content, toxic relationships, descriptions of manipulating and stalking and implication of murder)

[linawritestwst]

𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ꔫ all dorm members ꔫ

♡ pomefiore and neige x stubborn and mischievous s/o headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ how twst characters would fall in love with you ♡ (gn!reader, mostly fluff, no warnings)

ꔫ vil schoenheit ꔫ

♡ vil, rook and malleus x s/o who doesn't think she's beautiful headcanons ♡  (fem!reader, fluff with elements of angst, warning for mentions of bullying)

♡ dorm leaders with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, warning for mentions of bullying)

♡ idia, vil, jack and azul taking their s/o out on a date headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ jamil, vil and riddle with a s/o who tends to procrastinate headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders x s/o who loves to give them flowers headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders fake dating headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ rook, vil, cater and lilia with a s/o who wears alternative makeup ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders with a disney princess-like s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ silver, vil and rook catching their crush bridal style headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders x s/o who comes from a wealthy family headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ ruggie, jamil, leona and vil x reader who likes to help them out headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ riddle, azul, vil and malleus going ice skating with their s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ vil x reader who doesn't care about his advances headcanons ♡ (male!reader, mostly angst with a possible happy ending, no warnings)

♡ dorm leaders reacting to an idol!reader performing a love song for them ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ third years finding your doodle of them with hearts around it headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ "it grew and burst into a love so bad that it feels good"/yandere!reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for general yandere content, toxic relationships, descriptions of manipulating and stalking and implication of murder)

ꔫ rook hunt ꔫ

♡ vil, rook and malleus x s/o who doesn't think she's beautiful headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff with elements of angst, warning for mentions of bullying)

♡ savanaclaw and rook hunt pining headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of angst, no warnings)

♡ vice dorm leaders with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ rook, vil, cater and lilia with a s/o who wears alternative makeup headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ silver, vil and rook catching their crush bridal style headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ vice dorm leaders x reader who used to be an assassin in their world headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, warnings for mentions of murders, death, weapons and some minor physical violence)

♡ third years finding your doodle of them with hearts around it headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ yandere!reader x twst's biggest red flags ♡ (gn!reader, horror, warnings for possible ooc, general yandere themes, themes of obsession, mentions of manipulation, murder and death, implications of suicide)

ꔫ epel felmier ꔫ

♡ trey, azul, epel and sebek working on a project with a clueless reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ first year students with a shy and awkward s/o headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ first year students trying to confess to an oblivious reader headcanons ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ jamil, trey, epel and lilia with a s/o who has trust issues headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, hurt/comfort, warning for betrayal themes)

♡ leona, epel, azul and floyd reacting to their s/o doting on their tsum tsums ♡ (gn!reader, fluff with elements of comedy, no warnings)

♡ first years x strong and heroic s/o headcanons ♡ (fem!reader, fluff, no warnings)

♡ him taking care of you + you taking care of him ♡ (gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, no warnings)