#yandere pomefiore x reader

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I was re reading your pool fic bc it’s one of my favourite and I wanted to ask ab how Vil would go over giving you a make over when he finds out you’re a girl or how Vil, Rook and Epel would be involved?

Would Epel finally be happy to not be the only one being tortured by Vil with his 20084 step skin care routine?

Would Vil take you shopping and go full MUA?

Would Rook stalk you so Vil can find our about your current beauty regimen?

Also I love your writing so much

Aforementioned Makeover | Yandere Pomefiore

The thing about the pool party is that everyone knew you were a girl 

You had told them straight up

But they either written it off or the time you casually mentioned it or it just wasn’t a priority

Rook most definitely already knew 

More than willing to share one of his extensive photo albums on you when Vil finally decides you are indeed in need  of a makeover

Whether it’s through Rook or forcefully making Epel ask or just interrogating you himself

He’ll go full steam ahead once he has an idea on your situation

But it gets tricky when he realizes Rook’s has a loooonggg list of things he notices and actively updates about your health and routine

It kind of makes him jealous

So he steps up his game a little and demands your presence in Pomefiore immediately

He might wait for exam season where everyone’s on edge 

And far too anxious to debate whatever craziness he’s imposing on the Ramshackle Prefect

“This is just for the time being, no need to lose your head. Focus on your exams and I’ll focus on you. Got that?”

He’s reworking your entire life routine to fit around and with him in the center

Because Rook get’s to openly patrol and monitor you he’s not upset

He also expected it’d turn out this way but that’s a discussion for another time+

Epel though is at first willing to excuse himself

Leaving you to the proverbial wolves until he realizes what this means

“After the fitting, we’ll polish their elegance training, and then after that we’ll have to do a hearty meal otherwise they’d whine all day–” “I agree!”

“But they told me that tomorrow we’d go to the racing derby together…”

“Hm, well we’ll have to cancel that then. (Y/n)’s incredibly short energy and requirements for tomorrow can’t have them waking up too early to go to that. We only have time for what we’ve planned.”

“Yup sorry, monsieur crab-apple! Now please continue Roi du Poison!” 

“...”

If he doesn’t actively include himself or remind Vil of his obsession with training him

He’s going to be left out

Lose more time to get close to you

Less chances for him to win you over

Not to mention the bonding and learning he gets from just aiding his upperclassmen in their endeavors

“Now this Epel is the perfect time to ask questions. In this condition their mental state is still intact, so any questions you ask isn’t immediately going to be met with mindless and incoherent blubbering.”

“But why would I want to ask questions? What good is talking to this piece’a crap gonna do?”

“Tsk Tsk pauvre malheureux you have so much to learn! Consider this prey the beginning of a larger scheme…a member of a conspiracy against notre chéri!” 

“I see…”

Unbeknownst to him he’s prepared to use it all against them when the perfect time strikes

But it’s not wise to underestimate your teachers 

Where do you think that urge came from?

“We at Pomefiore value beauty above most, consider it a privilege we want to highlight yours.” 

“Though the urge to lock it away is palpable; for my Roi du Poison I’ll stiffle my urges just a tad longer!”

“Don’t expect to get too far from me I’m mo’ than set onya heart.”

“Epel!”

“I know I know, geez.”

[shiny-jr]

➸ damnation [ the raven retainer ]

– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

– Note: Hopefully everything transferred over okay from the quiz. Been holding off on this one because I know with the amount of Pomefiore and Vil admirers, posting this is like lighting up a firework by hand and having to run before it goes off.

– Pages: 42

– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!

The Vizier's Vassal   |   The Raven Retainer   |   ?????

A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall! 

Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment? 

Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.” 

But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! A page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven? 

How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending. 

Knowing this brought you some much needed relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be. 

Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard. 

Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace. 

When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing. 

“Thank you…! You saved me!” 

Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––

“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you may already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?” 

“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his worn and tattered attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.” 

“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…” 

So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure. 

“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you. 

“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story. 

In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense. 

“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!” 

Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason. 

“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.” 

The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass. 

You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming. 

“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small. 

Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!” 

Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathers fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow. 

The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger. 

Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke it caused you to freeze. 

“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.” 

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him. 

“Closer.” 

Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne. 

“Closer.” 

Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.” 

The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”

It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.” 

After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.” 

Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear. 

“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile. 

The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes. 

His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!” 

You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him. 

Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.” 

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two. 

Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago. 

The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival. 

“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.” 

Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it. 

The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!” 

“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.” 

The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king. 

Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”

“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?” 

Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess. 

Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You replied hastily with a slow bow. He didn’t need to tell you twice. Just from your few moments here, you can already tell that the king was frightening when vexed, and you did not want to stick around to see if that got worse when he spoke privately with his huntsman. And yet, as you turned tail to retreat back into the hallway past the closed doors, you knew the heir he mentioned could have only been the only other person in the room: Epel. 

Epel, much like you, didn’t seem to have any desire to stick around longer than necessary. Once you and the heir were out and the doors were closed shut, simultaneously you both heaved a sigh of relief, although short and brief as the heavy weight of the king's command was still prominent. There must’ve been even more on the young heir’s mind, because his gaze flittered over to you and he began to eye you suspiciously. With a surprising amount of strength for someone of his short stature and delicate appearance, he grabbed your arm and began to drag you down the halls away from the throne room, soldiers standing guards, and anyone else. Until you were in a different setting, by one of the castle’s exits to a dark backside corner of the garden where there was just one big oak tree that provided shade underneath its huge branches. What was this about? Why did he bring you here? 

Those questions were answered when he finally stopped underneath the tree and let go of your limb, only to whip his head back at you with such an angered expression that caught you off guard. The location now seemed like some place he could yell in frustration without being caught, because it was so quiet and isolated here. “That entire time, when that crazy old goon with that stupid metal crown basically kidnapped me from my home and brought me here for his little contest I wanted no part of, you knew he’d want the losers dead, didn’t you?! Hell, you helped him get rid of the bodies! I trustedyou, you big fat lying s––!” 

Quickly clamping your right hand over his mouth to shut him up, you stared at him as he gazed at you wide-eyed, as if shocked you’d even try to stop him. It dawned on you then. “You don’t want to be here, do you?” Just then, you felt a sharp pain in your palm. Hissing, you immediately retracted your hand, shocked to see some broken skin and feel it sting. He just bit you––! 

Epel spat onto the ground, infuriated as he yelled, “Are you daft? All that time in the undercroft made your brain rot or something?” An idea came to him. Still angry, but brightening up substantially, he lifted his head and glared at you. “Rook’s busy with Vil, and if I beat you there’d be no one to take me back to that stuffy prison of a room.” From his hip, he unsheathed a dagger and pointed it at you. “Out of my way, or I’ll make sure you join the rest of those duds you buried!” 

Removing your own weapon, the short sword from your back, that you thankfully were still carrying and was larger than his own blade, you pointed it at him. “You were saying, Epel, was it?” Seeing his confident expression falter, you decided to add quickly just in case he tried to act recklessly and try attacking you with his dagger anyways. “I’ll tell you this because it seems we both want to live and I believe we might be able to help each other get what we want. So let’s get something straight, I am not the retainer you know.” 

You gave him a moment to process what you said as you both lowered your weapons. In the quiet of the brief moment, you listened for any sign of prying ears but there was none. Upon seeing Epel’s confusion and suspicion with his guard still raised, you continued, 

“It’s unbelievable, I know, but I’m not the same person. Where I come from, this place is a lot like a fairytale story but different. I was arrested back home and sent here as punishment. This means my punishment was to take the role of the pet or servant of the royal and face some unknown demise. Now, from what I’ve picked up, it sounds like you’re here against your will too. Both of us might end up dead if we’re not careful.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of Epel watching you closely and deciding on what to do, he lowered his dagger completely after he saw you lower yours. “That sounds like a load of crap but… the real retainer would know better than to talk to Neige of all people. You didn’t, which explains that.” Maybe he wasn’t entirely convinced by your narrative, because he proceeded to ask, “You said this was like some kid’s story you read once or somethin’? Tell me what happens to me.” 

“That’s the issue. It’s an old story that doesn’t go into detail, you weren’t even a character and my role is just a raven.” Placing away your sword that you handled a bit awkwardly, since you really had no idea how to use it, but the heir didn’t seem to notice that as he placed away his own weapon. “From what I got, you were brought here against your will and there were others that are no longer here. Now, you’re the royal heir. Care to explain?” 

Raising an eyebrow, Epel demanded, “If I tell you, you have to promise to tell me something. You know what’s gonna happen, don’t you?” 

“I do.” Nodding at his words in confirmation, you then answered, “Of course I’ll tell you since we’re helping each other out.” 

After a second, he sighed, “Fine. I’ll trust you, but only because you’re not really the retainer. Ya see, I’m from a small farming town near the borderlands. A few months ago, Vil gave a secret proclamation. He wanted the seven of the most beautiful candidates gathered at his castle, status or talent didn’t matter, as long as they were younger than him and had looks up to his high standards. Rook, you met him already, was in charge of finding these candidates and bringing them in whether they liked it or not, and you, or well… the old retainer, were in charge of taking the loser home whenever someone failed one of Vil’s challenges. At least, that’s what they told us. My guess is that the king doesn’t want his little brother to inherit the throne since he’s so jealous and all. All the candidates had a chance to become the next in line for the throne if they won all the challenges, and if they lost they got to go home. But no matter how hard I tried to lose, you kept me from losing so I guess I owe the old retainer for that because without them I’d be… probably lying face-down in a ditch somewhere.” 

Slowly he shrugged, those words he uttered now being processed in his mind. It seemed to have struck him, because he became quiet. 

“... I was the last one standing, even though I didn’t wanna be. Ever since then, I’ve been stuck here, forced to spend my days with strict lessons being taught by Vil. All my escape attempts were stopped by Rook, of course, that crazy loon…” Gazing up at you, he slowly regained his confidence and nodded, “But now, I’m gonna escape for sure this time and go back home! Screw the crown and these dumb silk clothes!” 

“Easy, Epel, for now we just do as we’re told. I don’t want things to get too out of hand if it isn’t necessary. In the original story, the queen, king in this situation, causes his own death. As long as we avoid angering him AND avoid Neige, we should be fine. But…” You considered your next words carefully. What if something goes wrong? What if things had to change drastically in order to survive? Would you have a better chance at surviving if the protagonist, Neige, were to actually die and the antagonist, Vil, receive a good ending instead? You didn’t truly want to kill the prince, even if he was naive, he seemed like a truly good person. But if it was you or him… “I still need to see how things play out. If it comes down to it and things take a wrong turn, how far will you go to survive?” 

Epel gave you a look before scoffing and taking out his dagger as a reminder, “I was about ready to stab ya just to escape and get back home. I’ll do anything to make it outta here alive, to make sure both of us live. But now since you’re helping me out, and I’m helping you out, we gotta stick together. Got it?”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

For your own safety, you deemed it better to do nothing in the meanwhile as you waited to see if the plot would progress as it did in the story. What you hadn’t taken into account was how long the wait would be. Apparently when Vil instructed Rook to escort Neige out to be discreetly killed, he didn’t mean right at that second. It was something he had planned to happen soon, but not quite yet. This gave you enough time to assess the situation.

One thing you were grateful for was the former retainer’s work ethic. The beautiful king had deemed you had done enough by assisting in his endeavors that included potion-brewing and murder, something you hadn’t actually done, at least not for him. So, your responsibilities included keeping Epel in check as a prince-in-training and staying out to receive enough sunlight as per Vil’s strict orders. 

For the remainder of the first day and the following second day, you and Epel reviewed the lessons he loathed and quietly retreated to garden grooves to discuss possible plans of action including what to do afterwards when you had both gained your freedom. Additionally, you learned from the heir that you were not so different from the character you replaced. Even Epel admitted he was fooled until that one mistake you made of acknowledging Neige. So, all you would have to do was keep calm and be yourself, but also not yourself. You were technically playing the role of someone else that just happened to act like you. 

Your superior had summoned you on the second night. When you arrived, you saw servants around the ballroom decorating the area with fine silk curtains and candelabras. Round tables set up in another section of the extensive room, tables set with sheets and porcelain. Vil stood at the edge of the room, noticing you out of the corner of his eyes as another attendant brought to his attention something about outfits. 

As Vil began to strut towards another room, you could do nothing but follow as he commanded, “Hurry now, my retainer.” 

You did as you were told, following and noting down the little details from the dark colors used in most of the decorations as well as the mention of flowers being prepared. Once in a private room with you and his entourage, he delicately removed his crown from his blonde tresses. “Epel is much more tame with you. I swear, that boy is giving me white hair.” 

No, but you’re going to do that to yourself, you think as you recall the scene from the story where the beautiful queen turns herself into a ragged old hag. “He can be… a little troublesome, yes.” You stand closer to the door as the beautiful young man disappears behind an elegantly patterned dressing screen. 

Judging by the servants there carefully handling various types of clothes, you could only assume he was trying on different outfits for whatever event he was preparing to host. During a review of Epel’s lessons, you were able to learn as well. Despite Vil being a person of great envy and cruelty, he was actually a fair leader that was beloved by most, so long as they didn’t incur his wrath. Reportedly, multiple nobles, knights, and other royals have vied for the beautiful king’s affection, but to no avail. All were turned down. 

“Troublesome, hah, you’re being much too kind. That wouldn’t be my choice of word.” Vil scoffed as he changed behind the screen. Once he was seemingly satisfied with an outfit after throwing multiple aside, he emerged in a slightly long, dark, and exquisite dress-like garb with large sleeves. Snapping his fingers, he stood straight as his eyes lingered on you as he said simply, “Jewels.” 

Picking up his meaning, you gingerly plucked the intricate golden necklace a nearby servant was carrying on a pillow and assisted him in placing it on. You steadied your breathing as you noticed that he was watching you carefully. Moving in front of him, you placed the detailed and sharp claw rings on his index finger and ring finger as he raised his hand. 

“How is this?” 

You took a step back and looked him over when you realized he was speaking to you, not anyone else in the room. You knew what he wanted to hear, but you couldn’t help but think that the evil king was indeed…. “Gorgeous.” 

He didn’t respond. Instead, he extended out his arm, the tip of the silver claw he wore on his finger at your neck as you instinctively lifted your chin at his gesture to avoid being poked. You weren’t really sure what he was thinking, and it was making you anxious. Had he seen through you as Epel had? Or perhaps he was cross? There were a million different ways to die in this story. There was a reason you were sent here and that was to meet a cruel end. 

“You flatter me, my retainer. I know you don’t sugarcoat words.” Vil tilted his head, analyzing you from another angle as he smiled. Unexpectedly, his soft and pale hand was placed on your cheek. You felt your heart stop, whether from fear or something else, you couldn’t be sure. “You see, proper sunlight and sleep does work miracles. You no longer have those horrid eyebags.” Lowering his hand, his smile was gone as he seemed to recall something. “You’re the only competent and trustworthy person in this entire castle, my pet, besides myself, of course. What would I do without you? Always there for me, even before I ascended to the throne. Even when my father married that awful woman that brought the perfect lovely boy that became my brother and a stain in my life…” 

After a moment of considering your response, you replied quietly, “You have always loathed Neige, haven’t you…?” The prince’s sweet words and shy smile instantly came to mind. 

Upon detecting your words, you watched his expression sour as he instantly commanded everyone, who were too far and busy to hear anyways, to leave at once. All except you. Now, you remain alone with the king. It seems like you hit a nerve with your words, and you feared what he would do to you now that the two of you were alone.

Vil took a sharp breath before raising his head to meet your eyes. Under his intense gaze, you felt small but you merely swallowed your growing restlessness and kept your lips shut as he began, “I’ve always told you that I do not want you to ever utter his name. I lost the kingdom’s people to him, my friends left me for him, even my own father was beginning to favor him! I refuse to lose you too! If that boy takes one more thing away from me––” 

“I’ve stayed this long.” You attempted, interjecting with words that you thought would fit this character you were playing. 

“Because I demanded it.” His response caught you by surprise, but what was more unnerving was what came out of his lips next. “Father accepted my request for you to become my retainer, but the woman he married did not. And so, I concocted my very own poison, more lethal than cyanide, and slipped it into her wine. You are here because I wanted you here. Of course, I never revealed that to you until now.” You were given almost no time to process his words as he changed the subject, lifting his hand to admire his silver claw rings and painted nails. “I must admit, I was beginning to become a little concerned with you hardly leaving the undercroft in recent months. I was afraid you had become dull as I kept you to myself, and you know I don’t exactly like dull people by my side. I didn’t want to toss you aside after all we’ve been through together.”

Pursing your lips, reeling from this wave of new information, you murmured, albeit unsurely, “I don’t believe I’m dull… I like to think of myself as interesting.” 

Amethyst eyes landed on you, the blonde man scrutinizing you as he gibed with a frown, “Was I asking your opinion or stating mine?” 

Staring right at him, your snarky reply is already pouring out before you can even stop it. “Well, are you asking me my opinion…?” It’s silent as his cold gaze instantly lands on you. Shit. You instantly avert your eyes downward and bow your head in apology, knowing you fucked up. This was why you kept everything to yourself. This king poisoned his own step-mother for not giving him what he wanted, he ordered the former retainer to kill six innocent candidates for his competition to become heir, and he was willing to murder his very own brother who admired and loved him. What would he do to a raven with a sharp tongue? Just as possible scenarios begin flashing in your mind and you remain bowing, you clenched your fist, prepared to unsheath your hidden sword under your cloak and fight back if necessary–– when he laughed. Vil laughed. 

It wasn’t a mocking one of ridicule, but rather an amused one. Lifting the back of his hand to his lips to partially cover his mouth, his laughing ceased. There was amusement, a wicked and eager look in his eyes as he hummed, “There’s that plucky side of you I missed so dearly!” Smiling, he reached forward, carefully tugging your hood down as he scolded lightly, “What have I said about wearing your hood around me? Especially indoors. Honestly, you never learn. I should strip you of that cloak you always stubbornly refuse to remove, that way you always show your face as you’re told.”

“I apologize, Your Majesty. It won’t happen again…” Unsurely you kept quiet, only offering to change the subject once the king had reached over to trail his fingers along the side of your face. “If I may ask, what’s the occasion? I wasn’t notified of these ongoing preparations.” 

“A funeral.” Vil noticed how you went quiet and how your eyes widened. At your reaction, he chuckled, lowering his hand away from your face to tap his sharp finger against his chin. “Why so quiet? Don’t worry, it’s not for you. It’s merely… a preparation in advance.” Oh. You realized who it was for now. The thought of his rival dying seemed to bring the king joy as he smiled so cruelly. How morbid. Then, his attention returned back to you. It seemed he was thinking of something else now once his sights landed on some trashed envelopes in the bin, because his expression had turned to one of mild annoyance. “These suitors from afar are so bothersome. No matter how I refuse their advances, they continue with their gifts and letters filled with flattery, thinking that’ll be enough to win me over. How wrong they are. Love affairs are of no use or any interest to me…” 

You gazed at the bin chock full of paper and shattered gifts. Your voice was quiet, but it carried in the silence of the room. “It must be difficult to be so admired…” 

“Indeed it is.” Vil nodded, continuing to tap his chin thoughtfully. Those eyes on the trashed envelopes slowly made their way over to you, his slight frown morphing to an amused smile. “Although, perhaps I’ve changed my mind…” Extending his hand, you slowly and unsurely slid your left hand into his palm. Vil stepped closer, so close you could smell his sweet perfume and all you could see was him. You felt like a caged bird, cornered, as he leaned just a tad bit closer and continued to smile. However, now his smile was more teasing, but it felt wicked and dubious, “Once Neige is gone, all that time I spent being tormented and pestered by him, can now be dedicated to you. Lately, I’ve been watching you, and there’s something intriguing about you now. It’s as if you’re no longer so absorbed in your work, like you’re finally seeing me as something more than just your superior. You haven’t been brewing potions of passion in the undercroft, have you?” 

By now your face was hot, burning at his implications, by his close proximity, by the look in his eyes that made you think he may genuinely be interested but the tiny voice of reason in the back of your head waving red flags at his notions. When he suspected you were even considering looking away from his intense gaze to avoid eye contact, he squeezed your hands in warning, his nail rings pricking your skin ever so slightly. So you were forced to meet his gaze and reply awkwardly, “Of course not… I’m not you.” 

The king cackled, raising the back of his other hand to his lips again. With a tone of confidence, he did not even hesitate to respond, “Oh, you’re funny. My poor pet… I would say you’re bird-brained, but you’re not that.” He leaned his head right beside yours, until his painted lips lingered by your ear. The proximity was making you dizzy. His voice was like honey as he whispered, “I don’t need a potion to win you over––” 

“Your Majesty, our wondrous Vil!” 

Saved by the huntsman. You resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief while Vil continued to grip your hands and slowly pull away, his head turned to glare at the one who dared to interrupt the moment he was so engrossed in. It seemed he wanted to say something, but he managed to control himself as he merely hissed, “Speak.” 

During the pause, you were able to shift your gaze over to him. The huntsman was at the open window, one foot inside already and hands gripping the sides to heave himself up. Why didn’t he come through the door like a normal person? Wasn’t this room on the second floor? 

“I have to remind you of your meeting with your precious heir apparent.” Rook smiled as he fully entered through the window, seemingly paying no heed to the scene he just stumbled upon or the vexation in the king’s tone. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Releasing his hold on your hand, he sent you one last chilling glance. When he leaned closer once again to whisper in your ear, your breath hitched as he purred, “Later.” Once he stepped away, he gave you one last mesmerizing look before exiting the room. Yes, you were thankful you didn’t have to deal with the king until next time, but now you pitied Epel for having to stand his presence for hours of lecturing and scolding.  

Once the king was gone, you felt vulnerable. While he was pushing you on the edge with his advances and you knew any sign of rejection might tick him off, it was a different kind of unease now that you were alone with the huntsman who you eyed warily. By the time your eyes drifted back to him, you felt your heart rate spike as you noticed he was staring. Upon your gaze meeting his own, he merely smiled a little wider as he hummed. 

There was no way you would willingly stick around to be alone with him. 

As you slid your hood back on, prepared to take your leave as well, the huntsman’s sharp green eyes landed on the palm of your right hand that was lifted up to move your hood. For a moment, his narrowed gaze vanished and instead was replaced with a quizzical look and a curious smile. Stepping forward, he took your hand in his gloved grip, but he was careful as the tip of his finger traced the now fading injury caused by Epel’s bite. He gasped lightly.

“My, my, what kind of beast could have caused this damage that tarnished your skin? How dare they, for a creature as lovely as you to be wounded like this, why, it should be criminal!” 

You hesitate, looking down at the mark that had partially healed on its own. It wasn’t that deep anyways. “Dog.” 

Those watchful green eyes flickered up to your expression for a moment, before he chuckled and shook his head. His blonde hair swished back and forth a bit with his head movement, as he removed some gauze from his satchel. There was a hint of amusement that appeared in his smile, and while he wrapped the gauze around your hand, he spoke, “A dog? Ah, I see… But, dogs have much sharper canines that would have cut deeper into the flesh. I’ve hunted an untold amount of wildlife in my time, and encountered nearly every species in the animal kingdom. And this bite mark doesn’t match any creature that comes to mind. It’s truly odd, isn’t it? The shape of the wounds nearly looks like it was formed by something… human.” 

He knows. He knows you were lying. You go completely still, allowing him to complete what he was doing. It felt like he was purposefully taking his time in wrapping the gauze securely, as if he were going slowly just to get some sort of reaction. What was his goal? Seeing his eyes on you as he finished the task was unnerving. Could he hear your rapidly increasing heart rate? Was he able to detect the growing alarm you felt? 

At your silence, he merely shrugs and finally lowers your hand. That cursed gaze travels away as he says in a near-whisper, “Marks such as those aren’t meant for the hand, they’d do nicely elsewhere though.” 

“What?” 

“Ah, forgive me, I haven’t apologized for my sudden earlier intrusion between yourself and His Majesty.” Was he seriously going to gloss over what he said as if it were nothing? Now he was back to his positive demeanor. Although his smile was different now, it seemed more harmless, that didn’t do much to place you at ease in the slightest. “It wasn’t my intention to barge in! But I will admit, while the sight was exquisite and it was the very picture of romance, I did feel a twinge of jealousy.” 

Did the huntsman like the king like that…? For a moment, your heartbeat steadied as you got a hold of your composure. Honestly, that moment with Vil is probably the first and last you’ll ever get to a romantic moment with a gorgeous person. “Oh, was it because of me?” 

You were about to put out a quick and simple apology, but you didn’t get a verbal response. No. Rook only smiled with mirth, his eyes glimmering with amusement appeared to narrow again as he crossed his arms. At his lack of a reply, you feel right on the edge once again, your heart rate picking up immediately again. 

“... You were jealous of the situation I was in with His Majesty, right…?” 

There was no response yet again. However, the bridge of his nose crinkled slightly as his shoulders shook with the quiet laughter that came out of him. Much like before, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he continues to speak as if this were nothing but mere pleasant conversation. “I must admit, it is always a joy to see you. I must have done something favorable by lady luck, because our paths continue to cross much more frequently. Ah, I’d like to share with you something I experienced. Just a few hours ago, I happened across writing and I could not help but be reminded of your being which remains shrouded in mystery. I believe it went something like…” Rook cleared his throat as he recited somewhat dramatically, “This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing. To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core. Ah, those fiery eyes of yours are exactly what I envisioned in my mind as I read those poem’s lines…! To finally be the one who those focused eyes lay upon––” “Are you done? I’m busy.” You interject, managing to keep an even tone and stoic expression, but it was difficult considering that you just could not relax around the huntsman. You did not forget how he didn’t answer the question about jealousy, which made you nervous as you imagined the possibility that maybe he wasn’t jealous of you with Vil. 

Not offended by the curt response, Rook only continued positively. Not only was his reaction, or rather lack of one, very slightly annoying, it was worrying. Most people would have been surprised and maybe even upset by the interruption, but he didn’t appear negatively affected in the slightest. You couldn’t predict his behavior, and that alone was cause for concern. “Forgive me, I’m simply thrilled to finally be holding a proper conversation with you! Normally by now you would have turned heel and walked away, which is why I currently think you are particularly bewitching these past few days. It’s as if the fog around you that you used to cloak your most private secrets and puzzling nature has passed but been replaced by a thicker cloud of fog. You’re an enigma. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

In that moment you held your breath and you felt your blood run cold. Automatically your mind drifted to the weight of the sword on your back. It was heavy, heavier than his dagger and more useful at this proximity than his bow. However, pulling out a sword against him was counterproductive when he was a vital part of the catalyst that sparked the sequence of events that would eventually lead to the story’s ending. 

Considering your options, allowing the villains to live and perhaps even assisting them in the end would weigh in your favor. Afterall, you had yet to see any prince or princess for Neige, which meant things were already changing whether you liked it or not. Say a good ending was achieved where the pretty protagonist prince lived happily ever after. What would this get for you? It wouldn’t be the happy ending you knew in the fairytale if there was no royal on horseback to save Neige after he bites the poisoned apple. Should you somehow help him achieve a good ending, then what? Would he live with the seven dwarves in a cottage for the rest of his life or marry and inherit a crown? What could he offer you? On the other hand, Vil already had the crown, wealth, and power. These living conditions were quite nice when you didn’t have much to do, and if you ever felt threatened, running away with a bag stuffed with gold from the treasury would be easy. 

Perhaps being the beautiful king’s raven wasn’t so bad, all things considered. This was a hell you may be able to adjust to and accept as your punishment. 

“I like when people speak frankly, not in riddles.” You respond calmly, despite the racing of your heart. Responding was a risk, but ignoring his words wasn’t any safer. It made sense as to why he was a hunter, because at the moment you were cornered and he hadn’t so much as removed a single arrow from his quiver. 

Rook, again, only smiled ominously. It didn’t feel like he had malicious intent, but you still felt like you were in danger, you still felt threatened. He could, metaphorically speaking, pull the trigger at any second and you would be dead. As if he saw through you and knew all your secrets. All he was doing now was baiting you for another word, another sentence, another phrase, any slightest sound or action that was a slip-up leading to more information falling into the palm of his hands. Maybe that’s why he didn’t respond. Either that, or you were thinking way too deeply and the paranoia was starting to consume your mind. You wanted to believe it was the former and you weren’t quite insane yet. 

Finally, he chuckled, amused as he crossed his arms over his chest and peered at you with his forest green eyes. You could only imagine how terrifying he was when he was truly in his element, when he shed formalities and used the weapons strapped to him. “Your eyes speak a million words, and your actions paint a most curious story! Tell me, little raven, what words do you have for me?” 

Were you seriously participating unwillingly in this dangerous dance with the very man that served Vil? Rook was his huntsman, he was to hide no secrets from His Majesty and carry out his will. And it felt like Rook knew everything he wasn’t supposed to know.

It could have been the adrenaline and fear you felt in this current moment underneath the composed facade that formed the words in your head. Clutching your wrapped hand to your chest, you took a breath. You really were just like a wounded animal he was seconds from ensnaring. Although you wouldn’t hesitate to lash out. Ravens were known for plucking out eyes. The answer came too fast, “You won’t be able to do it. You can’t kill the prince.” 

Upon hearing your words, Rook appeared surprised, but it was only momentarily. Only a second or two of shock, before his bewilderment morphed into satisfaction. Like he had just won and caught the quarry. “Ah, how wonderful! So, you have decided to impart your knowledge upon me just as you have to Epel! I feel truly privileged!” 

You froze in place. You never once mentioned anything to Rook about what you knew from the story, and you trusted that Epel would keep his mouth shut. So how did he know? 

It’s like that piercing gaze of his could see directly into your mind, as if he could hear your very inner thoughts. As you remained stagnant in shock, waiting to see who would be the brave soul to make the first move, he spoke amicably, answering the question you never voiced. “Even the walls have ears. It is my duty to serve His Majesty in any way I can, so of course no whispers or rumors escape me.” Then, his smile turned sad and disappeared, that jovial tone diminished to a quiet whisper, “But, you are correct. I cannot do it.” 

You raised an eyebrow at his words, processing his confession. Seeing the huntsman with his head lowered toward you, was exactly like in storybook book pages that depicted a humble huntsman bowing before a princess to beg for forgiveness. It's possible that maybe the huntsman wasn’t evil, afterall, he would be the one to spare the innocent royal. Maybe he had a heart, a good one. But you didn’t. 

“Why? You can hunt animals and drag seven innocent people here to involuntarily compete for the crown. And you knew six of those seven were to die, didn’t you?” You crossed your own arms after making sure the black hood was securely over your head. 

Catching a glimpse of his somber frown, you knew his answer would remain unchanging. He did not have the guts to go forth and stain his hands red with the blood of an innocent prince. “I… I did not know they would perish. I truly thought they would be set free.” 

You sigh, contemplating your next actions. You truly didn’t want to harm Neige either, even if Vil despised him with all his heart, mind, and soul. However, the highest chances of you avoiding a terrible fate and achieving some sort of wonderful life, could only be accomplished if the Evil King received a good ending. That could only happen if the prince was dead, as Vil would only be deemed the fairest one of all once his rivals were vanquished. “Fine then, if you cannot do it, I’ll do it myself.” 

Rook, apparently temporarily shocked, was stunned by the resolve in your own words. He searched for any wavering determination before he tried to smile once more. For now he lowered his feathered hat to his chest as he spoke and stretched out an inviting hand, “Let’s not talk such dreary things. Please, there’s a lovely view at the top of the palace where you might perhaps tell me more about this story. I’m awfully curious, and it just might help me finally understand you better.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

It became clear after that fateful evening that Rook knew every happening that occurred in the palace and in the nearby town. There was no possible way to keep it secret, so you told him the basics such as that this was a story and he was a character within the tale, but you decided it best to tell him no more than that. It would be optimal to give him no upper hand at all. It was then promised that he wouldn’t share this information, and you made doubly sure to emphasize the fact that you would make certain that he received a bad ending if he were to betray your trust. However, the eccentric huntsman only laughed in amusement at your threat. What a weirdo. 

Well, at the very least, Rook was not the only one keeping tabs on happenings within the palace. That was what you had Epel for, he was useful in giving up information when it was needed. Even if he was formerly a peasant boy, he was no idiot. He never gave anything for free, it was a trade of knowledge which you didn’t entirely mind. There were lots of useless story details and scenes you could give up, such as the existence of the dwarves and the cottage in the woods. Besides, at the rate this story was shifting, those characters nor settings would no longer be necessary. 

But one day, Epel brought a very interesting account that could potentially change everything. 

Within the private training room where the king’s valued heir took fencing lessons, the door was abruptly slammed open, and there stood the said heir looking particularly ruffled. Manners tossed aside by how harshly he opened the door and flung it shut behind him, he ripped his cloak off his shoulders and chucked it aside as if it weren’t a carefully tailored cloth and instead a wash rag. Etiquette forgotten from his countless hours of learning it, he spoke naturally in his odd and difficult to understand dialect. “Vil’s pitchin’ a hissy fit with a tail on it! I was nearabout ready to come back, figured you’re way better than listening to all them uppity folk––” 

You stopped, lowering the new lighter and sharper sword you exchanged for the old one you carried on your back. He spoke so quickly and said so many words that went completely over your head, you had to give him a look as you interrupted his talking, “English, Felmier.” 

Freezing in his tracks, he groaned and repeated in a clearer, simpler manner, “Vil is mad. There. You happy?” 

“Then say so.” 

“I did!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. Epel continued, but thankfully not in his natural dialect. Although it was evident that he was still peeved about something. “There was some girl that showed up, a princess or something, and she asked for an audience with Vil! I happened to overhear, everyone was raving thinkin’ that it was just another princess asking for the king’s hand, but when she was talkin’ to Vil, she asked for Neige’s hand!” 

The prince. It was the prince, now princess, that was originally supposed to be the one that Prince Neige fell in love with. The arrival of the princess would certainly throw a wrench in the plan. Why had it taken her so long to show up when you had already believed that they would no longer be involved within the tale? 

The lavender-haired former farmer boy, paced back and forth in this wide training space. Usually he’d take an interest in the fencing equipment, it was one of the few lessons he actually enjoyed and took part in without so much stubborn complaints or begrudging behavior. But right now, he was far too troubled to even think about fencing. “When Vil summoned Neige to meet the princess, he turned her down! Said somethin’ about having feelings already for someone within the palace. Well, whoever it was, Vil must’ve known, because he nearly went haywire right then and there!” Stopping his steps, he turned to you and went on accusingly, “You know who it is, don’t you? Spit it out!” 

“It’s me…” This could not be happening–– You never were supposed to gain the affection of that pure-hearted prince! Now, Vil likely figured out who his step-brother had eyes for, and this would not bide well with his envious nature. 

Those big blue eyes of his widened in shock. “What?!” 

Neige had to be gone and fast. But how could one make a prince disappear? It wasn’t as if he could be done with and escape the consequences. The royal was beloved by the citizens far too much, should they learn that he was murdered, things would quickly become problematic. There could be no raising a blade against him. Unless… an accident of sorts was staged. 

Suddenly, you’re reminded of the image of a delicious red apple, a tool to the original plot that becomes the princess’ demise. Perhaps you didn’t have to stray too far from the plot after all. However, someone would have to take the blame once the deed was done. “Is the princess still here?” 

Confused by the inquiry but nodding in response, Epel looked even more baffled than before. “Yeah, but why do you care? What’s she got to do with this? Don’t tell me she’s somebody important.” 

If staying with Vil was the quickest and easiest route where a good ending for yourself was more certain, then you’d take it. No princess or prince would get in the way, and you would use Epel to help secure the ending. Even if some persuasion was needed, since you knew he didn’t have much of an appreciation for the current king. Lowering your blade on the table, you left it behind as you approached him, close enough to place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eye. Close enough so he could hear the whisper that came from your lips, so quiet that not even a mouse in the walls could detect what was said, only he could hear these words. “We are going to assassinate Prince Neige.” 

Epel gazed at you with pure disbelief, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth open a gape in bewilderment. “But that’s Rook’s––” 

“Rook can’t be counted on.” You counter. At the moment, you were unsure if Rook could really go through and murder the prince with his own two hands. You’ve trusted him enough with your own secrets, but you certainly didn’t trust him with your fate.

The heir appeared to contemplate it. The atmosphere had turned somber, like he was seriously considering it. Not just anyone could stomach the knowledge, but he appeared to be processing it just fine. That is, until he suggested something that surprised even you. “Why not just, change the target to someone of higher power and just… you know.” He made a swift slicing motion over his neck. You knew exactly what he meant, and who he meant. “That way, we’d both be free.” 

“It’s not guaranteed to work. Killing a king would be more difficult than killing a prince that the king wants dead anyways.” You point out that simple fact. There were constantly guards around the king like worker bees following their queen. However, here on palace grounds, most avoided the prince as they knew interacting with him was a quick and easy way to make the king bitter. This made Neige vulnerable. 

A frown appeared on his lovely face, etched on like a pout. While his look may be an endearing one, his voice did not say the same. By his tone, he sounded unsure, maybe even a tad bit annoyed as he accused, “You forgot, I don’t give a damn about the crown! If that happened, it would mean that I’ll definitely end up taking Vil’s place one day.” 

“I didn’t forget.” You reply instantly, using logic to convince him that this was the best option available. “You forget how vain his majesty is. Vil will never give up the crown willingly. The only time he’ll give it up, is when he’s old and gray and on his deathbed. By then, you’d either be long gone on to freedom, or have figured out some other way to handle the matter in whatever way you want. As for me, I don’t care who’s king, as long as I get to live and be happy.” You could visibly see the gears turning in his head as he heard your words. You add more to pressure him further and make him see reason. “Like it or not, you’re involved. In whatever way this ends, just remember, the citizens of this kingdom will likely not be so kind to you if word ever reached them that you were the chosen heir of the king, a king that abused the precious prince. Even if you didn’t participate directly, the fact still stands that you’re connected to Vil. If Neige receives his happily ever after, everything may end alright, or it may not, but I can’t guarantee your safety in that case. That’s why I suggest getting rid of him now, and placing the blame on someone else.” 

“Someone else… They’ll never suspect us. This is insane, I mean, I don’t care for that guy but… me, you, us––” He slapped his hand over his mouth, moving it up towards his hair. The young man looked so stressed that he was about ready to pull out his lavender curls. And yet, there wasn’t really anger. Mild irritation maybe, but not anger, and something else was there. Something foreign to you. “I’d kill for you, you’d kill for me.” 

Ah, maybe. Maybe not. It depended on the situation, but he didn’t need to know that. Although it was reassuring to hear that he was most definitely an ally that would help to achieve your goal. 

His small hands remained on his scalp, tangled in his hair, gripping his own head as he raved, “Don’t tell me you’ve been learnin’ all that potions stuff from the king! It feels like I’m going crazy, havin’ these unnatural thoughts I never had before–– I’ve been imagining things. I want to get out of this dump, but I imagined runnin’ away with you, showing you my village, introducing you to my ma and everyone else back home! Then forgetting everyone else in this stupid place!” 

Those big blue eyes gazed right at you, scanning your face that he’s come to actually grow fond of. Out of everyone in this hell, he actually liked your company, craved it even. There’s no one else here on palace grounds that he would willingly talk to without grumbling about it. Even if it began with the original retainer, his trust grew with you, the imposter. 

“It’s all your damn fault…! But I’m not mad, I can’t be, even though I want to spit and punch you for this but at the same time I don’t wanna hurt you. Just, tell me right now, to my face. Tell me it’s stupid and I’m actin’ dumb so I quit it!” 

You nod, a bit stunned by the outburst. However, you had other plans in mind. “Keep it up.” 

By now maybe it was giving him false hope at an ending he dreamed of, but he was still useful to you. So for now, you ignored his look of shock and pink on his cheeks as you pried his hand off his head and he lowered his other hand to his side. 

The plan was simple really, it would be far too easy if you could actually manage to pull it off. “I’m telling you this, because you will have to help me guide the princess in the right direction. Talk to her, steer the conversation to romance. If she’s smart, she’ll ask you for advice assuming you know Neige. Suggest giving a gift. Once everything is over, then we can think about your hometown.” 

There was still shock on his face, as if he was still struggling a bit to process everything that was coming out of your mouth. It seemed like it was a lot, as one of his dainty hands held your hand tightly while his other hand gripped part of the cloth of his shirt, his knuckles turning white from the strength behind his grip. “I thought you were kinda cool. Not as annoying as Rook or Vil or anyone else, and I wanted to escape with you…! But this murder plan just makes it seem like you’re exactly like that old raven that you replaced, but for some stupid reason I still can’t not like you.”

“It will technically not be murder. In a way… It’s complicated.” 

There were apple trees at the very corner of the royal grounds. A basket of fruit would be a sweet and kind gesture with unsuspecting maliciousness intertwined. All that was needed was to take the apple that would be picked, poison it as the beautiful queen did in the original tale, and place it back in the basket that the princess would offer to the prince. Poisoning it as it was done in the fairytale, wouldn’t truly kill Niege. It would merely place him under a death like sleep, with the chance that he may one day wake up several years in the future long after we are gone. Because really, Neige didn’t truly deserve death. However, even if he was to never wake up, at least he would be in a dream and avoid a brutal end by his jealous step-brother. 

“But there’s only one person who can make the poison we need for this to succeed…” 

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The plan had to be enacted before Rook could take Neige to pick flowers. Luckily, or unluckily for you, a request for an audience with the king was not even needed. Before you could even search for him as you were rereading pages of the heavy tome in the undercroft, there was the creaking of the wooden door that signaled someone entering the dungeon beneath the palace. 

Hardly anyone else ventured down here, and by the clicking of heels against the stone floors, it became obvious of who it was. Your theories were only confirmed true when you felt a presence behind you, peering over your shoulder as the delightfully familiar voice that filled you with unease greeted kindly, “My dear retainer.” 

Instantly you felt your body stiff and rigid, feeling uncertain under his gaze. You were many things, but often fearful wasn’t one of them. This story was just filled with characters that made you tense, the king being the one that troubled you the most. Despite all this, you managed to remain polite, only turning your head to nod at him with respect. “Your Majesty. It’s a surprise to see you down here.” 

“I could say the same. Didn’t I specifically instruct you to stay aboveground for the time being?” It sounded like a scolding, but it was nowhere near as harsh as one. In fact, it sounded more like gentle chastising. Not at all like the harsh criticism and stern reprimanding he gave to anyone else. Not another word came about that before his amethyst eyes landed on the pages you were reading. “Poison apple. You weren’t by chance planning to assassinate me with that, were you? That’s not nearly enough poison to eliminate me. Haven’t you heard of mithridatism?” 

Mithridatism? Did he practice that? It’s a good thing that you ultimately did not choose the path of killing him, as he likely would have proven much more difficult than any other target. If you had attempted to take his life and it failed, you could only imagine how frightful the king would become in his rage at your betrayal. The mere thought made you shudder.

It wasn’t easy to focus when he was directly behind you, his chest practically against your back as he continued reading over your shoulder. “Not you… I was considering this for the prince. I believe that I’m the only one that can stomach handling this, not the huntsman.” 

“Interesting… and why did you choose the poison apple?” To think that the beautiful man that currently had his chin on your shoulder, would probably be an wretched old peddler with wrinkled skin and hair white as snow, if the story had stayed on course. It was plausible that the beautiful queen turning herself ugly just to kill her rival was an analogy of sorts for the hideousness of her personality. And yet, when the king who was based on that very character was in your presence, yes he was vile and cruel but he was rather fair to you. Especially when he expressed a sort of tenderness in his smile and looked down at you through his long lashes. 

“It’s a special sort of death.” Upon reading through most of the pages of the thick leather tome, you discovered that a huge majority of the deadly spells had antidotes and ways to be reversed. Many were easy to reverse, some were harder, but the most difficult antidote to receive was for those that ate the poisoned apple. It was no wonder the evil queen originally chose it, as it was only by chance that the prince awoke the princess with true love’s first kiss. “Not easy to find an antidote for.” 

“Hm…” His head continued to linger on your shoulder, his lips and part of his nose buried by the cloth on your shoulder as his watchful gaze remained stuck on you through his half-lidded eyes. At such a close proximity with his face literally inches from yours, you didn’t dare turn your head, but in your peripheral vision you could make out the black mascara and smokey light eyeshadow that accentuated his fine features. Even without the use of makeup, he was sure to be stunning. “As expected, you dally away precious time. However, there’s a princess…” 

“So I’ve heard.” Your response was careful, as this conversation was quickly approaching dangerous territory. From what was told to you by Epel, after the princess arrived, Vil summoned Neige to speak about it when the young oblivious prince admitted he loved someone within the palace. Vil knew who, you knew. As this conversation progressed, you would have to choose your words carefully. It would be like walking in a minefield. 

It started, you realized, as his fond gaze slowly shifted to something a little more cold. While you couldn’t see his mouth due to the position he was in, you guessed he wasn’t smiling lightly in content and intrigue like before. “Then I assume you know of the prince’s… let’s call it, an insignificant crush.” 

“Yes…” A crush may not be the term Neige would have preferred. The prince would have likely used flowery language akin to the type seen in romantic novels read in the middle ages. But you weren’t going to fret over the small details. Stoically you replied, “If you desire it done, I can be rid of both the prince and princess. An apple for the prince, and a jail cell for the princess.” 

Vil raised a carefully plucked blonde eyebrow, his careful vigilance turning to astonished curiousness as he connected the dots with the clues given by your words. He seemed to understand, and take delight in your response as he nodded against your shoulder. “This is why you’re my favorite.” 

Averting your gaze down to the parchment paper in the tome, you placed your palm against the surface and read off ingredients that were needed. None of which you understood. Not that you would even attempt making something so potent. In the middle of your reading, you felt arms snake around your waist, rendering you motionless as if being paralyzed by some other poison he could’ve used. 

By your ear you felt his warm breath, and his arms were surprisingly strong as he held you tightly, preventing you from going anywhere. The words he spoke in his feathery voice felt like they tickled the side of your neck and caused a shiver to go down your spine. Was it fear or was it pleasure? “… You could finally use those funeral preparations you made in advance.”

“True… This type of poison could be made with ease by me, it merely requires patience as the brew seeps through the simmering apple. It will take some hours. There are many different poisons, but one of this caliber that requires magic is most lethal. And yet, it looks so delicious. Entrancing and deadly, my favorite combination.” One of his hands roamed up to your neck, his well-manicured nails and soft fingers casually resting on your throat. There was this creeping feeling that he wasn’t talking about the poisoned apple anymore. Externally you remained cool and level-headed, but internally you felt your breath still in that moment as your heart picked up speed. And it was like he saw all these signs on you, reading you like an open book. “The breath will still, the heart will beat rapidly in those final moments…” 

You know he didn’t poison you, but it felt as if you were sick with something that was worse than poison. You shifted in place, keeping your breathing even. Never once have you prepared for a situation like this. Removing your hands from the tome, you lowered them over his knuckle, one of his own hands still around your waist like a belt. The intention was to attempt to pry off his hands, at least, that’s what you think you were trying to accomplish, but Vil took it as an invitation to continue. 

A hum like a purr came from him as he moved his head closer, so his lips were practically at the exposed flesh of your neck. And yet, he didn’t move. You remained as still as a statue, while he murmured in a quiet and confident tone that slowly morphed into something pleading and desperate. “Nevermore will you, my previous retainer, have to stray from me again. Once he is gone, everything will be made right. There will be none left worthy of your companionship, except for me. I will be your sole companion. So do not leave…” 

You felt a tremor throughout your body as he placed a lingering kiss against your neck, his soft lips by your jaw before he pulled away. Not even far enough so you could see his face, he only moved his head away an inch, as if even the thought of being physically apart right now was too much to bear. 

His arms around your torso tightened, and your back was pressed flush against his chest. His voice was low and intoxicating, this was dangerous. “For now, you’ll assist me in making the poisoned apple. While we wait a few hours for it to simmer and absorb the toxic qualities in the cauldron, we’ll be spending some… quality time together, my pet.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The next morning, you awoke slowly, feeling groggy and tired, until everything came rushing back and you sat upright in alarm. You were in the familiar bedroom that once belonged to the retainer you replaced. However, there was a slight warmth on the other half of the mattress, as if someone had just been laying beside you and left not too long ago. 

On the wall as you sat up, you could see your reflection in the mirror, the messy bedhead and tired looking eyes, but also the slightest traces of red lipstick stains on your neck and across parts of your face. 

You had zero time to process what had happened before you spotted the shiny red apple on the counter with a small note beside it. The note simply read, For your mission. Wash your face once you wake up.

It took almost no time at all to get dressed and prepared, and wash your face. By now, Epel should already be speaking to the princess, advising her to attempt to appeal to the prince by picking fruit from the garden and gifting it to the royal she loved. Your task now was to simply add the poisoned apple when no one was looking. 

As you opened the door, you noticed a shadow and quickly hid the apple in a pocket of your long black cloak, just as familiar blonde locks and forest green eyes came into view. You closed the door behind you, as you were greeted by a welcoming smiling and that accented voice that bid good morning. 

“Ah, petit corbeau! What a fine day, isn’t it?” Immediately your gaze went to his expression and his hands, your ears keenly listening to his tone of voice. It didn’t appear as if he were hiding anything. There was no somberness to his voice, no frown on his face, and no red staining his hands. Although, the good killers always washed their hands clean of the evidence. 

For now, you don’t bother asking why he was outside of your room. Knowing Rook, he’d probably say some flattering words with an unsettling meaning hidden within his ornate speech. Right now, you would much rather not have to dwell on that for too long when a royal was to die soon. For now, all you do is remind him of your previous words towards him, “You couldn’t do it. So, knowing you somehow overheard what’s to happen today, is this your attempt to stop me?” You were quiet, making sure not to be overheard, only so he could hear your warning and see your cold gaze. “Know that if you try to stop me, that will be a form of treason against His Majesty.” 

That smile turned into a more bleak one, as he struggled to keep up the corners of his lips. He knew what was to happen, of course he did. It was as he said, he knew everything that transpired within the palace grounds. “Ah, I would love to see the raven ruffled up.” He joked lightly before adding in a more serious tone, “Ravens are most commonly associated with bringing the unfortunate news of a passing. As much as I dream of seeing you in your element, I just wish it wasn’t… him. I’d much rather it be me than him, even if being the victim was the only way to catch a glimpse into your true nature and to have your attention solely focused on me.” 

You leered at him, deciding not to take out your blade. Rook was a weirdo, but he most certainly wasn’t a killer. You couldn’t imagine him outright attacking you, even now as he knew that the beloved prince would die either way. “I’ll cut you down too if you get in my way.” 

Unexpectedly, Rook removed his hat and held it to his chest. He gazed at you like how an artist would admire the treasured painting of the beautiful Mona Lisa, as he bowed his head to you, exposing the back of his neck as his blonde hair shifted with his movement. “From you? I would consider it the greatest honor bestowed on me.” 

You merely moved around him, your cloak brushing past him. Even after Neige was dead, Rook would be cause for concern. But you would worry about him then, right now you had an apple in your cloak, a princess to frame, and a prince to assassinate. 

As it turned out, planting the ripe red apple at the top of the basket was the easiest part. It was simple, when the princess had left the basket of freshly picked fruits unattended. Perhaps the worst part was waiting. Waiting to hear when it would happen, when the prince would take that bite that would seal his fate. Part of you wondered if he might dream of you. Afterall, he seemed to have this idealized version of you in his head. So it was possible, but it’s not like you would ever know. 

For now, you appeared as you were told when you were later summoned by the king to the gardens where you emerged after exiting the undercroft on your first day here. Now, you were currently strolling through the private gardens of the palace grounds together, as if you hadn’t both planned murder. Any moment now, you expected a servant to come rushing, the palace would be overrun with commotion once the poisoned apple was consumed. If there were any remnants of the fruit left, you had instructed Epel to dispose of it in the midst of the chaos when no one would notice. 

But right now, it was quiet. A peaceful tranquil quiet, where you could look up at the sky and sun and feel its warmth. One where you were free. Even if you could never return home, perhaps living in this world was better. Should you ever need to, you could always escape the beautiful king. But this was a plan you would keep to yourself. 

Vil remained beside you, looking as elegant as ever with his robes and crown perched atop his skull. Like a peacock promenading in the yards of a private estate. There was one thing that confused you in this story. As angelic as Neige was, and as rotten as the king’s personality might have been, the mirror must’ve been blind if it insisted that Vil was not the fairest of them all. 

The King looked over at you, a pretty smile adorning his face when he saw your eyes on him, just as he liked it. Keeping his hands folded in front of him, the pair stopped beside the well. Since he had dismissed his guards to be alone with you, there was no one else to hear or see what went on between you and him. Those amethyst eyes were no longer so chilling but still more than enough to put you on the edge. “Tell me, my dear, how long were you planning to keep me in the dark?” 

You remained still, confused at his words. What was this about? He seemed content, but what did he mean by this? There was a sneaking suspicion and fear in the back of your mind, but you played it cool as you leaned on the well with your arms on the smooth rocky edge. “I’m not sure what you mean, Your Majesty.” 

A brief chuckle came from him as he reached over, his thumb rubbing against your cheek and his fingers grazing along your jaw. “You’re amusing.” Abruptly, faster than you can anticipate it, you felt a sharp edge against your throat, not piercing flesh but close enough that you had to tilt your head upwards to avoid being cut. It was a knife. 

Your breath hitched. You made no sudden movements, no reaching for your own blade or trying to grab his wrist, because in a single instance he could end you now and that would be the end to your story. Everything you did to get here and set up a decent life, would be utterly useless if you were dead. Taking a deep breath, you purse your lips before holding up your hands to show you had nothing to strike back. “What are you doing, Your Majesty? After everything I did to assist you?” 

The knife was small, compact, decorated with small jewels as shiny as it was sharp. It was small enough to easily be hidden in his robes, but honed enough to easily end you here just as the judges intended for you to go out. “You were useful, but… when it’s just me and my retainer, my trusted retainer refers to me as Vil not Your Majesty.” 

You felt your blood run cold. He knew, this entire time? From the moment you encountered him, did he realize by your use of formalities, or did he figure it out sometime afterward? You’d been played. 

A knowing smile graced his lips once he took in your shock, one of the first clear expressions on your face in so long. Normally you were so composed, it felt like an accomplishment to break that poised demeanor, to see the horror dawn on your face as you were reminded of the judgment that had been cast, of the hell you were in that was veiled by gorgeous folk and the chance at a free life.

Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and winced, anticipating the feeling of the blade running through your throat, there was a shriek. A shrill shriek from a woman, the sound sent a chill running down your spine and raised goosebumps on your skin. You anticipated the red spilling from your own neck, but there wasn’t a drop.

The knife was removed from your skin as Vil hummed, not really paying attention to the distant sound of servants scrambling to check on the source of the sound that must’ve come up from one of the upper floors of the palace. “It appears like it’s finally happened.” 

There was no need for further explanation to understand what he meant. The scream must’ve come from the princess who witnessed Prince Neige collapse after taking a bite of the apple. In seconds, guards of the palace will arrive at the crime scene, they’ll see the beloved prince trapped in a sleeping death on the ground and the princess beside him will be the only culprit. It’s done… And yet now, you now had to grapple with Vil knowing you were not who you pretended to be this entire time. 

“I didn’t know you were close.” The raven should’ve been apprehensive of the evil queen that tormented them. Were you wrong? Was their shared history different from the tale? 

“I lied. Please, I’m no imbecile. I think it’s a bit rude that you never properly introduced yourself, but I forgive you considering the unique circumstances.” Expertly he twirled the dagger between his long fingers, while he didn’t even have to focus on his hand to do so. The entire time he stared at you, a smile on his curved lips. “Did you think me a fool that I could be so easily tricked? I had known them for several years, but I must admit, I like you better.” His left arm was crossed over his torso, propping up the right arm that held the knife and casually pointed it at you. “All they did in recent years was hole themself up in the undercroft, but you, you’re plucky, brave, funny too.”

You felt partially numb. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go–– Everything was going so perfect! Why did he have to know? Was it too late to escape? Could you try and run now that things were turning south, or was it worth staying? Judging by the look in the king’s eyes, staying was likely not the best idea. A caged raven was not a happy one. 

“If you’re honest to me, I’m honest to you. I only tricked you, because you foolishly believed yourself to be playing me this entire time, hm? Don’t mistake my intentions though, because I am fond of you. All those sweet words, whispered promises, and love I gave you was all real.” The tip of the dagger was against your chin, and the beautiful blonde king peered down at you through his lashes. Raising the fingers of his freehand, he lightly traced his sharp nails over the side of your face. The next words came in a quiet voice, stern and serious, vaguely threatening but also with the promise of sweetness. 

“However, I don’t appreciate the idea of you flying away. Fret not. You’ll be well taken care of, and loved more than any little prince with a crush could love you… You wanted him dead, isn’t that so? Well, we killed him. There is nothing more for you to be afraid of. So now, I want you to tell me about where you come from, why you wanted him dead, and what you wish for. No matter what you desire, I will see to it that you have it so long as you remain by my side permanently. Reintroduce yourself, from the top, my Darling Retainer.”

[twstgarden]

✰ ❝ 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘆 ❞

━ yan! octavinelle trio / yan! scarabia duo / yan! pomefiore trio x gn! reader (f/n means first name) (reader can be yuu or an oc) ━ certain friends on campus have started to be a little overbearing. to the point where they won't let you leave their dormitory so easily.

cw: (including but not limited to) yandere themes, unhealthy relationships/obsessions, use of drugs, mentions of drugging/spiking, captivity, kidnapping, mentions of curse/poisoning, love bombing/acts of manipulation

requested by: @mx.lustreless request type: scenarios requester’s message: Not mucy to say, just a bunch of yandere scenarios, I'm not sure if you're still taking requests but i guess you still are? You can get creative :> florist’s note: thank you for the request and for filling out the form!

this work may contain spoilers from chapters 3, 4, and 5, octavinelle, scarabia, and pomefiore's arcs respectively.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me

━ 𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚 ━

"ah, if it isn't prefect!"

you took a deep breath, exhaling it softly as you gave azul a forced smile the moment he laid eyes on you again. you did not want to return to mostro lounge again due to the uncomfortable vibes you have been getting, but you had no choice as your friend dragged you to have an afternoon snack in this private café.

"hello..." you mumbled in reply, avoiding his gaze with a clear indication that you wanted to leave as soon as possible. however, your friend was already ordering a drink as jade jotted down the orders on a notepad.

his sharp eyes then looked at you with that grin on his face, "and you? dear f/n?" your friend then looked at you with a smile, making you look back at the menu as you replied, "um... i won't order for now."

"are you not hungry?" your friend asked, tilting their head before sighing, "we've been in class all day and i did not see you eat! you should have something..."

then, your friend decided to place an order for you, and jade merely smiled as he wrote down the drinks and/or meals for you both. you breathed a sigh of relief the moment he, his twin, and his boss left your table.

"you seem tense," noted your friend.

"i'm just tired..." you lied, smiling a little at them.

initially, you enjoyed the atmosphere of the mostro lounge and it has always been your go-to spot after class and during the weekends. you have grown used to the trio's presence and considered them as close friends.

however, the longer you kept visiting them, the more you've noticed how odd they've been acting.

they won't let you leave easily, even if it is past the closing time.

azul has been trying to get you to sign a contract, claiming it was harmless and he would never cheat a "friend".

jade has been trying to feed you mushrooms that he found during his hike, claiming that they were safe to eat and he even added special ingredients. only the seven knows what drug or potions he has been pouring into his meals made for you.

floyd was also trying to feed you meals made by him, as well as trying to drag you around wherever he went, disguising it as a form of hang out despite his "threats" on your attempts to leave.

maybe they just want to spend time with me, is what you thought, but day by day, you have been slowly proven wrong with how close they are at times.

you snapped out of your thoughts the moment floyd served your dishes and drinks. your friend was ecstatic as they quickly dug into their meal, while you looked up to see floyd smiling down at you in an innocent way, but there was a hint of something ominous behind that smile.

"here's your food, shrimpy!"

you gulped and mumbled, "thanks..." looking down at your meal, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. it looks exactly as it does on the menu, and the drinks did not have anything suspicious on them — or at least, that's what you think.

your friend was happily enjoying their food. seeing how relaxed they were gave you relief - at least the food or drink wasn't drugged. a soft sigh left your lips as you started to have your meal, enjoying the taste despite the unreadable expression on your face.

you can feel their stares. their eyes watch you with a daunting gaze, and even if they were not in your peripheral vision, you knew they were settled by the bar, watching you like a hawk.

you could have called them out or reported their suspicious behaviour, no? but why? they were your friends. they would never do anything to harm you. you weren't sure if it was some form of coping mechanism or if you still held some trust for them deep down, but all you knew was the guilt that continuously seeped into your mind at the thought of reporting their behaviour to the faculty staff.

you were afraid, but you still trust them. azul always had a way of messing with your psychological thoughts, and the twins were there to back him up and manipulate you into thinking they were only being friendly.

"oh! i left my phone at the campus, i'll be right back!" your friend spoke as they realised their cellular device was not on their person. they quickly stood up and left the lounge, leaving you alone as you tried to reach out to them, "wait-!"

but they were long too gone.

damn it.

you stayed silent for a moment, thoughts swirling in your mind as you looked back at the meal that you have been consuming for the past few minutes now.

your gaze then went to the bar to see them smiling at you. drat. you made eye contact with them and that was more than enough of an invitation to approach you.

"it seems your friend left rather abruptly," noted azul as he sat beside you with that suspicious smile of his. you merely hummed in response as floyd sat on your other side and spoke in a rather enthusiastic voice, "shrimpy! did you like the food?"

"it tastes great..." you replied, avoiding eye contact as you continued to stare at your half-eaten meal. floyd was pleased to hear you say this, making him pat your back before pulling you in for an asphyxiating hug.

you tried to pull away, patting his arm as a signal to let go and that you wanted to breathe. however, he was not letting you off, which made jade sigh as he spoke to his brother, "floyd, you are suffocating the prefect."

"oh no~ oops~!" replied floyd as he released you, but you knew he was not genuine in that little 'oops' of his. as soon as he released you, you started to feel lightheaded. your vision was blurring and doubling, and your head was throbbing in pain as you leaned on the table, unable to keep your eyes open.

the trio merely smiled as azul held you close to him and whispered, "you appear to be tired... it's alright, rest here... this is your home now..."

unable to fight back or stay awake, your eyes fluttered shut and your consciousness started slipping as you fell into a deep state of sleep. the last words you heard gave you a sense of fear, but you were now too powerless to do anything.

"we won't hurt you. we're your friends..."

━ 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙖 ━

"but...!"

"i need to head back to my dorm, kalim..." you spoke once again, wanting to return back to your room to sleep after the energy-consuming party you just had in scarabia mere moments ago.

"we have guest rooms here!" reasoned kalim, not wanting to let you leave.

"as much as i wanted to stay, i can't... sorry..."

there was no way you'd stay in that guest room after the incident. a frown found its way to kalim's lips as jamil sighed, "kalim... we can't force them to stay." with a defeated expression, kalim unwrapped his arms around you as he spoke to you, "will you come back tomorrow?"

relief. that was what you felt the moment you thought you would be back in your room. as much as you loved hanging out with them, you wanted a shut-eye too. "yeah, of course! i'll see you tomorrow," you replied before waving goodbye to the two and leaving their dorm.

the moment you arrived at your dormitory, the first thing you greeted were your pillows. you had quickly fallen asleep and thought of nothing but getting the rest you needed. it was the weekend tomorrow, so you were free to sleep in as much as you wanted.

the next day came by quickly and you were invited for lunch at scarabia. you loved the meals they served and their hospitality has made you feel more at home than you ever felt in this academy.

everything was going splendidly. the meals were fantastic, the drinks were refreshing, and the atmosphere was lively - the perfect scenario for a weekend lunch with friends, no?

you spent hours after lunch with them; studying, reading, sharing stories about school experiences and personal lives, and whatnot. however, you started to feel drowsy around the afternoon, wanting to take a nap to preserve your energy and rest.

you have become drowsy several times lately.

of course, you thought nothing of it. you were just exhausted from all the responsibilities you had to tackle, nothing out of the ordinary. kalim seemed to have noticed your drowsy state and quickly gave you one of the sofa pillows nearby. without another word, you grabbed the pillow and laid your head on it, passing out almost immediately.

minutes turned into hours and you had woken up from your nap - although, sleep was a better term as you had been out for hours now. rubbing the drowsiness from your eyes, you let out a soft yawn and sat up, feeling the soft mattress underneath as you looked at the spot you were lying on in confusion.

'a bed? where am i...?'

you thought you were back at your dorm, but the interior was completely different from your room. that's when it hit you, you were in one of scarabia's dormitory rooms. you quickly got out of bed and ran to the door, trying to open it only to find it unlocked.

"shit..." you muttered under your breath as you looked around the room for its key, but it was nowhere to be found. you quickly banged on the door, hoping someone was outside to hear you, "is anyone there?!"

it was silent for a while until you heard a jingle of keys from the other side of the door, making you sigh in relief as you thought you were about to witness freedom, "oh thank goodness... please open the door!"

the sounds of the keys were giving you a sense of relief, and you thought they were about to unlock the door. however, only silence followed and no other sound was heard. what was going on?

"hello? is anyone there?" you called out once more, banging on the door, "please unlock the door! i don't see the key in here!"

then, a chuckle was heard on the other side of the door, giving you a sense of fear at the thought of someone purposefully locking you in here.

"you should take a rest, prefect."

that was jamil's voice. you knocked on the door again as you pleaded for your freedom, "jamil? please unlock the door!"

"you ought to keep it down. people are sleeping. we wouldn't want to wake them up now, would we?" spoke jamil as he let out a sigh, "you'll be staying in there. this is your new home now... good night."

his footsteps then started to fade as you continued banging on the door, "jamil?! let me out!!! come back!!! kalim! please!" all the relentless knocking and banging on the door were for naught as no one came to your aid.

days have passed and you barely remember much of what had happened, but you had vague memories of wanting to escape this wretched dormitory, then making the sudden decision to stay as if you were being hypnotized. they had fed you, entertained you, and took care of you during your whole stay.

they've been nothing but good to you! why would you want to leave?

why do you feel as if you are being manipulated to stay?

━ 𝙥𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙚 ━

you were frozen in place for a few hours now with only epel in the room as he got himself busy with carving apples. if you hadn't been cursed by vil's unique magic, you would have run out of the door and never looked back at this dormitory.

but alas, you have fallen for his trick and bit into an apple slice that he had cursed without your knowledge. now, you were stuck seated on this couch settled in their lounge.

"epel...?"

you called out, making the first-year pause his carving as he looked at you. how could he still look at you with an innocent gaze after being involved in your captivity?

"mm?"

"how long 'till vil's spell wears off?" you asked, hoping it would be sooner rather than later.

"30 minutes," replied epel before tilting his head, "you are not looking to escape now, are 'ya?" you quickly shook your head in response, giving him a fake enthusiastic smile, "no! no! not at all!"

"lying won't help you, chéri(e)."

you quickly turned quiet at the sound of rook's voice. his footsteps paired with another one gave you a hint that vil was in the room as well, walking towards you before the dormitory head stood before you, leaning down as he held your cheek as if to inspect your face.

rook stood beside vil as he spoke patronisingly, "mon dieu! those tear stains on your face pain my heart. why the tears?" you glared at rook as he knew exactly why you were feeling this way, but he merely smiled at you.

"we fed you, cared for you, gifted you luxurious things, helped you in all your assignments, and so much more. why are you being ungrateful?" spoke vil as he narrowed his gaze at you with a frown. you did not say a word in response, not wanting to raise their irritation and anger towards you.

vil sighed at your lack of response, "stop acting like a spoiled child."

"then set me free."

you demanded freedom, hoping they would grant it to you despite the low chances. they have given you everything, so why can't they give you the freedom you desire?

"you know we can't do that," spoke vil as you felt his hand on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb ever so slightly to give you a sense of comfort, "it's dangerous and there is nothing out there that will satisfy and love you."

"my friends—"

"your friends have long forgotten you, dear," replied vil as he cut you off, "in fact, they are glad that you are no longer interacting with them..."

you did not want to believe him, but the way he spoke to you in such a tone with that comforting caress made you stay quiet. epel and rook then sat beside you while vil gently started playing with your locks, a glint of satisfaction was evident in his eyes but you did not notice them as you were staring at the ground.

'hah! just say the right words and you'll fall into our trap once again... how naive...'

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[azulsluver]

tw. yandere, bully!characters, manipulation, possessive behavior, heavy dehumanization, humiliation, starvation.

Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore

Everyone loved Kalim. Kalim was someone who people looked out for. Easily making friends with a happy ray of smile, it’s so so easy. You sometimes wish you were like Kalim, welcomed with open arms. Trying to befriend Kalim was not as easy as you thought, scared away by his overwhelming behavior, anxiety and fear because you weren’t so use to basic human decency. 

You were just a little too late. Word goes around from Cater’s schemes, your name dirty to everyone who looked your way. Glancing over at Kalim who’s ushered away from you...”you’re bad influence,” Jamil would say. There was small hope in you, chewing your bottom lip as Kalim looks back to see your intimidated figure. 

Kalim is smart enough to understand what was right and not. Frankly, he didn’t care about about your reputation. You’re you, the whispers of your name flood the halls and offices. Being you is no fun, because you are nothing but someone Kalim can easily walk over.

He’s keen on the thought.

Over the years Kalim “did” try to see what all the fuss was about, what’s got people so worked up about you? Magic was not in your blood, the legacy of your name had no value and yet you kept going. You still managed to survive the horrors of that school, he’s more than impressed.

He would never forget the day Riddle ordered you around like some brainless mutt, the fear and obedience in your eyes made his mind clog like water. Kalim is used to seeing people get told what and what not to do back in his hometown. He’s never liked it, but maybe this’ll be a change of heart.

Talk about horrible timing. Kalim will swoop you into his arms if you had any trouble involving money or got into some sort of debt. He’s more than happy to pay it, for a price. Not trying to sound like Azul, Kalim will be reminded of you once pure boredom settles in.

Someone is in trouble, in need, you need him and he's all too willing with an outstretched hand. The smile on his face is ill to look at, the face of kindness makes your skin itch with fear. Because as much as you didn't interact with Kalim, hanging around with the fake faced of hope was your set of reality

And you were right, Kalim was horrible. His tantrums are almost as wild as Floyd's yet he knew to better control himself, throwing fits in private you'd rather have servants running around to avoid his wrath. He would always want you near him, in his presence and by his side only. If Kalim wasn't able to watch you 24/7 that's what Jamil's good for.

Your position in Kalim's life is nothing but degrading. The fond hand of his would pet the top of your head - like a mutt. Kalim prefers to call you by many names, but being called a mutt occurs when his temper is lost. You learned the hard way that to have the things you wanted meant pleasing Kalim first. Every beck and call must you drop everything you're doing to be near him, the jingle of your collar will let him know you've been listening.

It's odd and uncomfortable on the floor, no matter how clean and smooth the ground is. Always on your knees and never your gracious two feet you were born with. Standing on feet will result in you being punished, locked in a room with no light or food. A simple mistake can have you thinning within weeks.

There’s kindness behind Kalim’s work. He’d always cry seeing your defeated and malnourished figure. It’s your mind playing tricks with you, but salivation of your basic needs begging to be taken care of sounds like a luxury. So you couldn’t help but whimper into his neck as he pets the back of your spine; telling you it’s your fault for him treating you this way. He never wants to treat his pets like this, but things must be done in order for a proper domestication.

Jamil has always been there from the beginning of it all. The first person to see when you’ve awaken and the last when slumbering. You prefer not to anger him, that got you nothing but the eyes he was blessed with.

His eyes were nothing but beautiful. But they were sharp, calculating and cruel. You know it’s done on purpose, when you had the wheels of your life, he took that away with a single stare. Something inhumane in them, staring too long has your head drawn low out of fear. Because you knew what he’s capable of.

You’re meant to be kept alive, you don’t make his job easy when you’re throwing items across the room from him after spending time with Kalim. Jamil takes this opportunity to try and gain your trust, even if he fails to support that intention by giving into his desires, you’d slowly start to believe in him.

Biting on the hand that feeds earns you a slap back, flinching whenever a finger lays on you. Growth, there is always room for it, the teeth reflective and becomes less, now you bow your head to instead lick at the palm like a good dog. The best there is, and the only thing you’ll be good for.

[hoshinoyozora]

Poor, Unfortunate Soul(s)

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Self-aware! Twisted Wonderland x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 1,3k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Just a lil scenario about MC who ‘dismisses’ their existences aka me lmao.

“They’re just a bunch of game characters, anyway. Why should I care so much about them?”

You laughed, unaware of the hearts that you broke within the screen. The thin yet sturdy piece of glass that separated you from the people who thought of you as their world. Their everything. Your friend chuckled, adding salt to the injury. Had she didn’t ask you why you hadn’t logged into the game for days, weeks even, maybe they wouldn’t be so humiliated and disappointed.

But did that mean they wouldn’t know your true opinion on them otherwise?

Maybe ignorance was bliss, because, then, they would’ve kept holding onto the hope for you to come back. To still want them the same way they wanted you. In this world of codes and numbers, you were the one real thing in their lives. You were human. Warm, fleshy, and expressive. And yet, you dismissed their existences so easily just because you both lived in two different worlds.

Did they really mean nothing for you? Were all of your reactions towards them merely a façade? Or a memory so insignificant you forgot about it in the next day?

“Maybe I should just delete the app. It feels like a chore to open it nowadays.”

The sky darkened, the ground trembled, and the thunder rumbled as the result of a certain dragon fae. Was this your true self? Then again, NRC was a school of villains. They shouldn’t be surprised if you, the Player, turned out to be the biggest villain of all. Not even Malleus Draconia could hold a candle to you. Your words alone had the ability to mold and break their spirits. Your touch alone could move them somewhere else and show them how beautiful Twisted Wonderland was with you by their side. And your presence alone gave them a reason to live.

If you were to disappear, wouldn’t that be comparable to death? A slow, painful death where everyone lost themselves in depression and rage, and ultimately, destroyed themselves. In a moment of morbid curiosity, they wondered if that was what you wanted all along. You toyed with their hearts, and when you got bored, you moved onto their lives.

“We… we can’t just let her leave!” A boyish voice, thick with desperation and an even desperate attempt to recompose, shattered the mournful silence. Everyone recognized him as Ace Trappola, one of Yuu’s enviable first friends and troublemakers from Heartslabyul. “We need to stop her! Come on, guys. Are we really going to stop now, after everything we’ve done to reach her?”

“But how?” Leona asked, sounding even more listless somehow. Despite his pride and consent, you’d taken a peek into his past and remained amicable with him. It didn’t matter that it was for the sake of the plot, your vessel, Yuu, still approached him and asked for his help during Octavinelle’s story. Didn’t that mean something for you? For him? “Just because we’ve managed to hack into her phone doesn’t mean we can drag her here. There’s only so much we can do to make her stay.”

Ace flinched, unprepared for the reality to slap him twice.

“I-I don’t know.” He turned to face the Diasomnia gang who, with the exception of the sniffling Sebek, looked as somber as a funeral guest. “Malleus-senpai, Lilia-senpai, you guys gotta know something about bringing someone from another world, right? You guys are the strongest of the strongest. I don’t care if it’s forbidden. There… there has to be a way!”

For a moment, they were silent as though reluctant to admit their lack of knowledge. Ace wilted, his buckling knees threatening to collapse once the severity of the situation settled in.

That is, until Lilia opened his mouth.

“… There is, actually.” he murmured. “But for every soul that moves here, another has to replace them.”

Some of the characters lit up, but the others remained skeptical.

“And I assume it’s for the sake of balance?” Vil mused, crossing his arms.

Lilia’s glance confirmed his suspicion.

“T-then, what are we waiting for?” In a burst of hope, Azul momentarily stopped sobbing. “Let’s sacrifice that person.”

“But who’s gonna be that person?” Jamil retorted.

Everyone fell quiet again, unwilling to be the lamb in the altar of your capricious existence.

“The NPCs ‘live’ when the story is moving.” Idia mumbled through the floating device. His shyness and reluctance for a face-to-face interaction was customary, but nobody could truly see the underworld his sanity was falling at a rapid pace. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he still wanted to see you living among them. Literally. “That means she has to play again if we want to sacrifice one of them.”

“I, for one, would be more than willing to help ‘convincing’ her, if that’s what it takes.” Jade simpered with his eyes closed and a hand over his chest.

“Oui! It’d be a splendid day to see her sublime face gracing us again. The sun would shine warmly, the flowers would grow tastefully, and the birds would chirp merrily!” Rook enthused, jabbing at Malleus’s inadvertent use of magic.

Riddle wiped his teary eyes with the sleeve of his uniform and straightened up.

“Seeing that our Player has slackened in her responsibility to watch over us, it is our duty to set her right.” he declared. “Heartslabyul students, I order you to find this person and bring him here!”

“I-I agree…!” Sebek piped up, still loud as always despite his trembling voice and runny nose. “I shall seize him and send him to that world at once!”

Ever the dutiful one, Silver gripped his baton and nodded. As long as it wasn’t murder without a cause, he’d gladly perform any task like a true knight would.

“Well, if Riddle ordered us like this, who are we to disobey him?” Cater laughed, trying to hide the shakiness of his voice.

Trey pushed his glasses, foggy from the upcoming tears.

“Indeed. But I won’t lie, this is something that I’m looking forward to carry out.”

“For once, you did something right, Ace!” Deuce beamed proudly.

“Oi!”

Jamil glanced at Kalim, who reluctantly nodded. He hated to see people throwing away their lives carelessly, after all the assassination attempts that he suffered through the story. But if it was for the sake of seeing you with them, who was he to stop them?

Floyd grinned happily, but the anger of being abandoned by you darkened his eyes.

“Once she gets here, I’ll be sure to give her a nice, long squeeze as a welcome~”

“Well, Leona-san?” Ruggie asked, crossing his hands behind his head. “Are we gonna boost their morale or something?”

Leona sighed, lacking the irritated exhaustion he usually had. Even he wasn’t immune to the hope that Lilia brought to them, no matter how annoying it was to trust him.

“You better not be disappointing us, Lilia.” he growled. “And you, too, Radish Sprout.”

“I don’t like this.” Jack murmured. “But if this is what it takes to make the Player fulfill her role again, then I’ll do my best to live up to the expectations!”

“I… I will join as well!” Epel stated, clenching his fists resolutely.

“Look, Brother!” Ortho chirped. “You managed to bring them all together. That’s so cool!”

Idia muttered something, but the younger boy was too engrossed in their touching cooperation to notice.

Sunlight finally dispersed the dark clouds, mirroring their spirit. Malleus took a step forward with his chin raised in determination.

“Then, I shall assist Lilia with the magic.”

You said you didn’t care about them?

Well, they would make you care.

[snailsrneat]

Yandere Epel Felmier Headcanons

-----------------------------

-----------------------------

Ooooh boy

If he becomes your yandere I feel sorry for you

Epel doesn't really understand his feelings for you fully

All he really understands is that around you his body gets weak and his heart beat rises a lot

In short you make him feel inferior, and he doesn't like that one bit

He despises the way you make him feel.

And he definitely shows his distate for it constantly

He finds that bullying you makes him feel better. Makes him feel superior.

He always makes sure to point out any sort of flaw on your body or clothing, and laughs when you give him a dirty look

He always makes sure to seek you out. Even when you started avoiding him, he kept on actively trying to find you.

He especially loves you give him angry reaction, it adds fuel to his flame.

"Hey nerd! Why do you keep running from me? You scared? Think I'm soo terrifying that you can't even come face me?"

For awhile he thought he hated you, despised you, that was until he saw how close you and Jack were.

You and Jack decided to have lunch alone together outside instead of inside.

Epel had been looking for you, as he always was. The moment he saw you and the wolf-boy sitting so close, your faces less than an inch apart, his body filled with the most intense rage he's ever felt.

Rage so intense he started to physically shake.

Epel stomped all the way back to his dorm room, slammed the door shut, and started to throw the biggest fit in history.

Epel knew that Vil was going to yell at him but he couldn't care less right now, he needed to get all his anger out.

Once he's done with his temper tantrum he sits in the middle of his room, thinking.

Mostly thoughts about you, he could never stop thinking about you.

You with that dumb smile, you with your stupid pretty eyes, you and your shiny hair..

He can't deal with all the emotions going on in his head, but he can realize one thing.

He wants you to be his and he'll do anything to have you.

From that moment forward Epel becomes a lot less rude, he still makes snide remarks from time to time but he's way nicer to you than before.

He still constantly seeks you out too, but it's welcome this time around.

"Hey nerd! You wanna go eat at the monstro lounge after school? Just you and me."

Eventually when you guys get close enough to eachother and you start to open up to him he makes sure to keep notes of everything in a secret dairy he has.

Honestly he takes a lot after Rook.

He keeps notes of your deepest darkest secrets, fears, trauma, literally anything he deems useful blackmail.

Once you guys get close that's when all of your other friends start to get distant.

You don't understand what happened or what you did to make them not like you all of a sudden but you get lonely pretty quick.

Good thing Epel is there to keep you company.

"They did what!? Oh no, don't cry. They never deserved you anyways. I'm still here, remember? I'd never leave you."

He's so extremely possessive he can't let anyone be close to you but him.

He'll even make sure you get a schedule change and everything.

Now you're with him in every class, he couldn't be happier.

If you start failing some classes? Oh don't worry about it Epel can give you his notes.

Even if you start to oppose him and want to get away, you can't.

Why?

Well cause if you do then he'll get upset, and once he gets upset that's when he brings out his pen.

He doesn't want to do this but if you keep threatening that you're going to leave, what else can he do?

Now look at what you did to yourself, all bruised and beaten.

We were so happy then you tried to leave and now look.

"It's better for you to stay here with me. Without me you're too weak to fight even the smallest amount of magic."

"You need me."

[tiyoin]

cult of pomefiore #2

cw: describes imagery of cult sacrifices

maybe you’re friends with epel and the first year gang, mayyybe epel confessed to you saying how he’s liked you the moment he met you🙈 ofc he’s nervy, but he’s a man! not a pus- oh, you don’t see him that way? oh, no that’s okay! he just hopes this doesn’t effect your friendship!

he’s so calm and understanding on the outside, but on the inside oh ho ho ho, on the inside he’s seething

epel’s calling you horrendous names, wishing horrors on you for playing with him. you’re just like every other girl, using him. his grandma warned him about heart breakers like you, and he’s out for revenge.

so he gives your name to rook for a scarface. that’ll show you!! that’ll make you regret humiliating him like that! for giving him all these stolen glances and fleeting touches. that’ll show you for playing with his heart like that!

and yet… he can’t help but pause as he sees rook chatting you up. you’re giving him the same treatment you gave epel, shy eyes and fidgeting fingers, the tips of your shoes were squirming and you had that eye contact issue.

ah. so you were like this like everyone, epel wasn’t special, he was just delusional. letting the hunter play him like a fiddle and feeding him twisted truths and half lies… all to get, to you.

he didn’t know how long he was staring until a chill went up his spine. his gaze snapped to the hunter’s as purple met green. rook had caught him looking at you again. but this time, instead of beckoning the first year over, he put a gloved hand on your shoulder and guided you to towards the opposite direction, liquid praise trickling from his lips as an impish look shadowed his face.

rook had agreed with him when he brought up your name for a new member. to indoctrinate into the cult. he remembers the feeling anger and deep satisfaction when the hunter had all but brought you up to vil. spinning him tales of how untainted your soul was, yet how clouded your eyes were and how with a little training you’d be good for the table in time for the full moon!

and yet… watching the hunter leave with his prize made bile squeeze up his throat like squeezing toothpaste from its tube.

his books dropped with a mutter thud as he collapsed to his knees. his legs were numb and his forehead felt prickly, clamy as images upon images of you, sweet, innocent you flooded his minds eye. you were in a beauty, silky night gown the color of starlight. your hair was flowing like a rushing river, your eyes were shimmering like diamonds, and your lips were a deep red of the apples he and his family grew on his tree farm. your gaze upturned to the statue of the evil queen, eyes filled with hope and wonder and your hands clasped together in prayer.

like a slide show he was brought to the next image.

your eyes were closed, yet your soft smile never faltered. your hands were intertwined as you laid in your gown on a stone slab. ancient letters he could only dream of deciphering laid around your body like those blue mosaics on porcelain plates.

the room was dark and yet a soft yellow beam of light shone down on you. you looked… heavenly.

the chanting around you was anything but heavenly as he could hear the sadistic glee in the others words. he could hear the smiling as they recited the ancient texts they practiced just for rituals. they were shrouded in dark purple hoods, knelt on their prayer cushions as they dared not look up.

in front of you, rook was in his pomefiore uniform, a… distasteful glee on his face as he welcomed his brothers and sisters.

epel hurled chunks when he envisioned rook penetrating your chest with the ‘gift of the queen’, a lone tear of ecstasy escaping as the chantings grew louder.

the shadow above them was appeased.

the weight of epel’s rash decision now hung heavy on his shoulders.

epel had sold you to the devil

[cvlutos]

YOUR SAVIOR!!

◆ Apr.05th.2023 | —K|

◆ Vampire!Vil S. | Gn!Reader | Twst!Vampire Au

◆ Vampire | Implied Sex | Blood Drinking | Intimate | Angst | Switches Between Flashbacks n' Present Time | Slightly Yandere |

◆ Synopsis: You're his doll, his plaything to dress up, to feast upon. Yet I was never only like this. He was once a lover.

"You look utterly divine."

Cold fingers gently brush against your cheek, the elegant floral smell heavy on your senses and slightly mind numbing, leaving your knees weak and arms aching as you stand. Eyes unfocused as nimble hands fidget with the loose clothing, tightening the places meant to be tightened, ignoring your restrained grunts of pain as your body rocks with his harsh movements. He stands behind you, eyes of beautiful lilac grazing over the bareness of your neck, over your painted cheeks and lips, graced by his always expensive oils, glosses, his everything, as you stand like a mere doll.

One of his many.

Yet, you're his favorite. He likes to whisper it, always reminding you that he chose you. While you sit on his lap, his hands clasped tightly around your waist, lips dragging along the shell of your ear, both of you sitting in front of his large vanity. Lilac slowly changing into a crimson red, feeling the sharpness of his fangs drag along your skin, before biting down. Fangs sinking into your neck and pleasure rippling through your body in orgasmic waves, forcing your hands to clasp at the wood of his well made vanity, heated gasps and muffles slipping past your lips.

"I hate when you zone out." Manicured nails dig into your face, squeezing and pinching, forcing you to pay full attention to the male before you. Vil Schoenheit. A man you would consider your—

"You used to pay so much attention to me," He steps away, letting out a faux disappointed sigh as he moves around his large closet. Searching for whatever elegant and gold accessories he decided to adorn you in.

"Always begging for my attention. Calling me your Savior." There's disappointment mixed with amusement in his tone, holding a small necklace in his hands, back turned to you. Your eyes slide over his back then to the floor. At one point you did—kneeling before him, hands desperately clinging to his feet, begging for him to use you. To have your most valuable asset, your very own blood. Like everyone else.

You're truly no different, until he picked you.

Arrived in your bedroom upon your 18th birth night, drank from you. Gently removing your clothing, kissing your lips, tasting your flesh, bringing you to a high you've never in all your life experienced. Sinking his teeth into your neck, drinking your blood as your naked form clings to him, oh so desperately.

That was many years ago, many years ago that your savior treated you so—lovingly.

More like a lover, spending moonlit nights in naked embrace beneath velvet sheets, performing, reciting things for your ears alone. Yes, your Savior. Who came to love a mortal, yet if you knew his love was so fleeting you wouldn't have.... You've come to terms with your mistakes. With not fleeing the moment the clock struck 12, the moment you awoke to his arms around you, caging you. Trapping you.

You turned into nothing more than an old toy, placed upon a shelf, occasionally cared for, but always drank from. Yet still so very pretty.

"Tell me, what can I do to get you to call me such once again?"

The tips of his nails graze along your neck, placing the elegant necklace in the empty space. Staring at you through the mirror. He's asking—Vil always asks, but you know better, he isn't asking for an honest open answer, he's asking in a way to command.

'Call me like you once did.'

He demands it. And as he gently cups your face, turning you from the mirror and tilting your head to the side, pressing a cold kiss to your neck, you know that he'll never let you age, that death nor sun shall ever grace your skin again. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, eyes fluttering close. You've come to terms with your mistakes, that his embrace is nothing but a trap, honeyed words his poison.

Yet poison from your savior, has never tasted any less sweet.

Tagging: @pinkskytwst @v-anrouge

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

[mrsrookhunt]

*Rook, oozing underneath the door*

Yuu: Wdyd?

Rook: Ỉ̶̡̲̰̣̤̲̟͈͎̽̚t̵̛̪͈̳̮̤̜̱̼̱̖͂̀̂̔̃̒̉̕̚'̴̧̧̖̱͍͈̲̱̼͇̩͔̲̿̀̈́͒̂̽͋̏͐̌̊̕͘ṡ̷͚̬̌́̒̅̍͛͜ ̸̼͚̩̩̬͙̩̘̈̋͒̏̈́͠s̷̨̨͖̹͍͇̰̥͔͆̒̃͐́͆͆͂͂͠͝ľ̶͕̜̽̄́̈́̋̃̌̊̚͠i̷̻̖͚͍̤̝̼̠̊̚m̷̢͈̹̩̫̱̫̲̺̥͍̽̐̓̃̾̎̇̒͐͑̚͘͜ͅę̸̛̣͙̑͊̏̋͘ ̵̨̢̨̢̣̩̲̺̜͖͈̆̇͋͐͑͋̑t̸̳̤̞͖̺̲͖̀̂͑̓͐̐̍̽͘̚i̷̲̠̖̘̩̖̳̝͓͕͕̐͗̂̈̐̑̚͜m̴̨̘̦̹̯̪͔̮̹͋ē̴̢͇̭͖̫̖̖̲̘̭̣̜̩̾

[riddles-fiddles]

Help! Rook is in my backyard!!

Geez sorry my bad I didn't think he would be able to escape the basement. Anyway this gave me an idea for a short yandere Rook fic

Synopsis: it's not your mind playing tricks on you. Characters: Rook Hunt Tags: yandere, dark themes, drugging, stalking, Rook being a creep Notes: gender neutral reader

•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°••·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°••·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You can't tell with precision when it all started, but you do remember a lingering sense of uneasiness keeping you up your toes from the first day of the new semester. You were just sitting down by the cafeteria, sharing breakfast with Ace and Deuce and everything looked nothing out of the ordinary; the room was filled with vibrant chatter and the tantalizing smell of fresh scrambled eggs. Your friends seemed oblivious, too deep in conversation to notice the way you uncomfortably shifted on your seat, hairs standing on end.

You felt watched, predatory eyes scanning over your spine. Slowly, you turn to face the crowd, trying to make sense of someone that might have been staring for too long, but you find nothing. Everyone around looked equally emerged on their own interests, so you decided to rush on your meal, urgency rushing through you to get out of the cafeteria as soon as possible.

You can feel the ghost of those eyes when you are at class, but everytime you tried to peek, be it over your shoulder or looking through the mirror of your phone, nothing seemed out of place, no one was looking directly into you. By the extending days of this strange event, you try to reason with the fact you're apparently growing paranoid.

After some time, things cool down and the innerving feeling dies out. You grow strangely tired through the passing weeks, and you can't quite grasp what might be causing it; you have tried to sleep earlier, eat better and even sought medical help from the school's nurses, just for your blood tests to come out fine and healthy. Truly, your mind is just so constantly hazy that you don't even notice how the food you have been cooking tastes strangely more appetizing - actually, when was the last time you cooked? You can't remember, but you're too tired to try and think things through, so you just finish your soup and leave it by the sink.

When you reach your bed, you simply fall between the comfy sheets and slumber hits you almost instantly. Your body is heavy and you can't fight the closing of your eyes; a gloved hand reaches for the half open window, but you're already too drunk on your exhaustion to make sense of that vision, so when you wake up, you just assume it was a dream, a very weird one by that - hands reaching for your windows and a faceless figure hovering you with twisted devotion. Maybe you're not as over the mysterious creep from last week as you thought.

Small gifts seem to appear from nowhere on your bedside table, on the counter, or anywhere you can easily spot them - chocolate, roses, and small letters. You don't want to feed the growing sense of fear and vulnerability within you, knowing you're practically living alone, and the prospect of having a stalker was... not something you wanted to deal with - so you settle with the idea that Ace and Deuce are the ones leaving heartfelt gifts while you're away.

Rook revels on your oblivious innocence, watching from the shadows as you go about your day. What you don't know, though, is that Rook is an avid hunter, and that he has living with you ever since that night where he climbed over your window - such a romantic display of affection! Just like the fairytales of forbidden love he had grown with. He's fidgety, quietly listening to the lulling sound of your breath, aching for the night he'll be able to lay down beside you and hug you tightly, but for now, he can satisfy his most romantic urges by watching your sleep with almost unblinking eyes, etching to memory the way your chest flutters in a peaceful slumber.

He'll make sure that you're the most happy with small actions of service, cooking you nice meals with his tranquilizer formula - just to help you sleep better, of course! He wouldn't even dream of doing something innapropriate to his precious trickster! - and then cleaning all the mess you leave behind.

Rook hopes that someday you'll learn about his quirky advances, yearning for the day you'll appreciate him and reciprocate his deep, undying love for you.

[yandere-daze]

Hello, I would like to request headcanons on Yandere!Vil with a reader who enjoys telling jokes often, such as "What does the sky use to make its clouds so fluffy? Air conditioner!" I just thought it would be neat to see.

Aww that´s really cute honestly, I like it ^^ Also yes, I did indeed google makeup jokes for this kmdfnyf

gn reader

tw yandere, possessiveness

Yandere! Vil with a reader that enjoys telling jokes

You´re sitting in Vil´s room as he dutifully applies make-up to your face. It looks like he´s so concentrated on the task at hand, making sure that nothing smudges ( which make no mistake, he is!) but in actuality, he´s way too distracted due to him getting to be so close to you.

Hah, he can´t believe how lucky he is to touch your face like this without you protesting or being suspicious of any ulterior motives. No one but him is allowed to do this and Vil couldn´t be happier

It´s like you´re proving to him that he´s just as special in your eyes as you are in his

He was doing your eye makeup when suddenly, you spoke up

“Hey Vil, what´s a spooky ghost´s favorite makeup?”

He in turn just sighs fondly, already mentally preparing himself for the inevitable joke you were trying to tell

“Tell me, my dear”

“It´s ma-SCARE-ya!” you say gleefully and look at him with expectant eyes

Vil only shakes his head, a small smile on his face, having fully expected this. For some reason, you just loved to tell jokes all the time and while otherwise, he might have thought of it as annoying if anyone else tried to make these puns all the time, you were an exception to the rule

He just loved the fact that you felt comfortable enough around him to joke around and laugh. Many thought him to be difficult to approach so he was even more glad that you didn´t feel that way

“Well, what do you think?”, you ask, clearly expecting his response to your masterly-crafted joke that you definitely didn´t just come up with on the spot while Vil was applying mascara, no sir!

Vil on the other hand just rolls his eyes but he doesn´t look annoyed at all.

“Why, it was just the peak of comedy, my darling”, he replies sarcastically but you can´t help but laugh anyway. Vil deciding to answer at all was proof enough that he hadn´t minded the little joke

“Great, I guess with your approval I can now start telling this joke to every person I come across”, you keep on joking but Vil´s eyes narrow and his grip on your face grows tighter

“No”, he bites out, “ you will refrain from doing that. Your smile and laughter are reserved for me alone, do you understand?”

A bit surprised that he seemed to be taking this silly matter so seriously, you merely nodded and soon the smile on Vil´s face returned as if nothing happened as he continued with your make-up

“Good. I´m glad we have an understanding”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Courting ritual with Both SavannahClaw and Persphorm ( is that how you spell?? ) + Carter with Crewle daughter

As Epel, Jack , Carter and Vil live in the same country but different region

Same with Rook, Leona and Ruggie in same country

Be interesting to see how they court with someone from the rebellion area of the Rose Kingdom

Pomefiore and Savvanaclaw is a bit much

🖤🖤🖤

Pomefiore courting Crewel Daughter | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

There is a rebellious regality in your culture where trends are rampant and relationships can be defined by them. While their not as strict as countries with a tribal past there are some things that just signify romance and behavior in your culture. And surely the dorm of Pomefiore is more than eager to learn or already put in practice their own customs and techniques:

Vil Schoenheit

He’s well aware of your cultural differences

You are childhood friends after all 

Whether you explain it to him or he’s researched the trend he’s well aware of the way people claim one another in the punk-community

But don’t think he’s going to be so cowardice to use such a roundabout way to start a relationship with you

He doesn’t need to compromise either of your usual styles to silently claim you

“This choker has a romantic vibe, does it not? While I think you’d look glorious in it, you might give people the wrong idea.”

“...Trends were made to be broken were they not? Though your persona…perhaps it’d compromise it.”

“I don’t have a problem explaining the matching chokers. After all fashion is everchanging and shouldn’t be limited by mere trends. I create them.”

Of course you both seem to have quite the indifference when it comes to atypical style 

So the earrings from the shaftlands that represent budding love

Are nothing but a fashion statement

Yes, just a fashion statement

Rook Hunt

Similarly has known you for quite awhile 

Where he has an advantage over Vil is in tradition

Courting traditions in Sun Set Savvanna aren’t always explicitly stated or researched

Some are common like the old ways of presenting kills to potential partners

Or Performing physical prowess

But since that’s not encouraged legal

He’s opting for the tamer traditions

“Rook is this bangle made of the magic plant made with golden wheat?”

“Oui oui mon cherie!”

“I greatly appreciate it. It almost matches well enough to your own.”

“Doesn’t it?”

You might be aware, you might not be 

That’s part of the thrill 

 

Epel Felmier

Living out in the boons is a vast contrast to your own style

While his traditions are purposeful and homely

Yours are ever changing and specific

He doesn’t have the attention to research it 

But the best he can do is insist you wear the mishappen mittens he tried to make

“T-they’re to keep your hands warm! K-keep them with you, please!”

“Epel. It is the height of Summer. I will not.”

“But how can I hold you to an engagement then!?”

“Offer something more appropriate.”

“D-don’t think this means I’m giving up! A man never does!”

“I never expected you to.”

He’s a little slow on the uptake

But he’s just as willing to keep trying 

Just as he his with brawling with reaching admirers

[shiny-jr]

from POMEFIORE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Epel Felmier.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: Hoping its not too out of character.

Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore   |   Scarabia

Perfume. The carefully sealed envelope reeked of it, like the sweet smell of lavender with spice. The envelope containing the message looked like something you would find when getting an invitation to a ball or a wedding. The envelope was pristine, and the wax sealing it was done so perfectly without a single awkward edge.

It almost looked unnatural with how perfect it appeared. The thick beige parchment was cut evenly, and not a blot of ink strayed from the elegantly curved cursive words that looked like ribbons upon the page. Looks could be deceiving. It was beautiful, but as you might've already guessed, the interior didn't entirely match what was hidden beneath the surface.

To my darling player,

I am at fault and take full responsibility for my actions.

All I've ever wished for, was to admire you. You are the epitome of magnificence, divinity that I can only dream to one day achieve but knowing I will never truly reach. There's an otherworldly sort of allure to you, which drew me in far too close. Much like the man who enhanced himself with wings of wax, but flew too close to the sun so his wings melted and he met a terrible fate. You are the sun, and I was that reckless fool with fake wings.

I allowed myself to get too close, tainting your light with my imperfect presence. Your grace was the warm sunlight on my skin, when everything around me was a horrible darkness. To think, I attempted to put out that light. It was nearly diminished. For that, I should be burned. I'm sorry, so so sorry.

I've thought long and hard on what I could possibly say to you, what sort of response could be adequate enough considering what you mean to me and the delicate situation. It didn't take long for me to arrive to the answer: no response is fitting. It doesn't matter if I pen a letter long enough to rival the river of tears I shed, coat the envelope in gold and ink of silver, with a message that would have moved the seven themselves to weep. It does not change the betrayal that occurred. I betrayed the trust you gave me, and shattered it into millions of pieces. However, know that I'll be on my hands and knees piecing it back together again, even if the shards cause me to bleed, you are worth it.

The stabbing sensation on my skin would be nothing compared to the one in my heart that I feel when I consider the fact that you might despise me. There's nothing more I would want than to see your face, hold your hands and feel the warmth of your skin that's so unlike the coldness of your vessel. Requesting a meeting would be imperious, as I have no right to ask you of this. But if I could, I would love to see you and discuss what comes next, perhaps over lunch. This is just a thought, a wish of mine, but one you are not required to fulfill.

I'd love to believe that I know you and your vessel better than anyone else could even dream of understanding, but I know that is far from the truth. Even as I pampered and polished your precious doll, your secrets continue to escape me. Did you ever hear me, when I brushed and washed Yuu's hair? When I took their freezing cold hands and painted their nails? When kneeled down in front of them to polish their shoes? When I adorned the best luxuries of brand accessories on their body?

I would kneel down to no one else.

There was always this wish, a dream of mine, that one day I might perhaps one day get to pamper you. Not Yuu. But you. Is that a scandalous desire?

Your hands would be warm, and I would hold them as I file your nails. Your arm wouldn't be so rigid and mechanical, you could actually extend it as I slather a creamy scented lotion along your skin. And if you do desired, I could lift your head and apply lipstick to your lips... This is just the process I commonly used while your vessel was under my care.

Although, I would gladly take up the responsibility of nursing you back to health, or any other role you would give me. There are countless things I can accomplish for you. I commonly deal in potent poisons, but I can just as well deal in healing and comforting. I'm skilled in self-defense and various forms of magic, so I can be your companion to protect you from everything that would wish you harm. You know of my business in acting and singing, so even if you wanted nothing else I could be there to entertain or serenade you. I only wish to be with you again, even though I know I'm underserving. I'm selfish.

If you want nothing more, then I have to be satisfied knowing I was in your thoughts for a brief moment. A twisted part of me wants your mind to be plagued by thoughts of me, just as my mind and heart is full of you.

I have to remind myself, that by getting too close I risk being burnt. But, at this point, I do not care for my own safety. I only care for yours, and I do this to keep my sanity. I truly admire you so much, that I cannot adore you from afar behind a rope like sculpture in a museum. I have to stand nearby, inspect your beauty, polish you to a shine, and value you like the priceless treasure that you are. Should someone threaten to chip off even the slightest speck on you, forcing you through more suffering...

I will shatter them into a million pieces, to preserve your peace.

Yours,

Vil Schoenheit

The wonderful aromatic smell that filled your nose brought back some not so pleasant memories. The smell of the earth beneath your feet, the scent of dew collected on every still surface, but above all were fragrant tangs that immediately alerted you to any nearby presence of a student belonging to Pomefiore.

They had chased you through those deep dark woods, like a pack of rabid hounds tracking and hunting a poor wounded rabbit. Besides their shouts and footfall, their perfume gave them away. There was one in particular which you only caught a whiff of only when you had too closely encountered the dormleader. The scent of lavender and spice hit your nose, the same fragrance on the letter.

"That reeks! Burn it!" A certain feline hissed, covering his little black nose with his paws. You swore the fragrance was beginning to form a migraine at the front of your skull. If the smell was strong for you, it must've been much worse for Grim since he had a superior sense of smell.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if the smell wasn't that strong and it wasn't the particular scent. Like vanilla or freshly baked bread. If that were the case, Grim might've insisted on keeping it or even be tempted to take a bite out of the sheet.

But it was lavender and spice. So the letter was tossed into a corner several feet away, left to an unknown fate that you would ultimately decide later. When you glanced back to Grim, you saw him holding and sniffing another letter.

For a long moment his sniffed the rolled up paper, his black nose twitching as he was likely just searching for another gift to claim as a snack. After a few seconds, he discarded it, sliding it over to you before he opted to dig through the pile like a raccoon digging into a heap of trash. "Meh, this one smells boring."

"Boring, huh?"

Boring wouldn't exactly be your choice of adjectives to describe this letter. It wasn't an envelope, it was a scroll tied by ribbon, attached to an arrow. An arrow, of all things, was likely the messenger for this message. Thankfully, this one didn't smell of anything. Even without a fragrance to match to a profile, the arrow was a dead giveaway.

Opening it up and using your hands to smooth out the curled edges, you blatantly ignored the wax seal over the ribbon. Once it was fully unsealed, a few single flower petals drifted down from the paper. Just another mess you would sweep up later and decide whether to dispose of it or not, like the first letter from the dormleader. For this one you were a pinch anxious. The sender was not like the others who came before.

Trickster,

It relieves me to see that you are finally safe.

To see you rest and heal in tranquility, nothing steadies my anxiously beating heart more than knowing you are sheltered. Well guarded by a trio of ghosts and the courageous feline Grim, I have no need to stress over your wellbeing with them acting as your valiant knights in shining armor! Although, I would also wish to join their ranks, blessed by your grace and fit to serve as your shield. However...

I am conscious enough to know that I am nowhere near fitting, no matter how much I may wish to reach out and shield you from every evil. In that most vital moment, I had failed to recognize you. I may have spared you from the sharpness of my blade, but I couldn't have guarded you from the suffering that was to come afterwards.

I'm so deeply and truly sorry. Many sleepless nights have followed, since and even before our first fateful encounter in those woods of the Pomefiore estate. Before our encounter, I was conflicted. I wanted to detest you, but I could not, I thought there must be a reason this was all occurring. I couldn't slumber peacefully, so long as I knew there was turbulence surrounding your beloved vessel. After our encounter, I couldn't get the vision of you fragile, frightened, and wounded, out of my mind. Raising a blade against you, who were a stranger shrouded in infamy, made my very heart stop.

Now I know why I was so unexplainably drawn to you. It was not due to the wild frenzy that overtook the entire campus, or a burning hatred to destroy, or even my own desire to discover answers I desperately wanted, although that last one may have played a role. The reason as to I was so enticed by you, a cunning 'imposter,' was because my heart recognized you. It must have been my very soul that pulled me towards you, and perhaps my own nature as well. My body recognized you, my heart and my soul led me to you, but I was blinded by my sorrows.

Throughout the few years I've had on this wonderful earth, I've seen countless peoples, and you are unlike any of which I've seen. In the places I've been, I have witnessed poetry be written by masters of literacy, melodies sung by the most angelic voices ever heard on a stage, and devoted worshippers in holy places kneel in solemn prayer. Somehow you as a single being, or entity, encompass all those elements into one. My aim is to admire beauty, and I see beauty in its finest form when I look at you.

I truly understand what you mean to me, and to others.

But at the same time, you remain a mystery. And I believe I'm speaking for all those who admire you when I say this. We could only dream of truly understanding you, when we only had Yuu.

So, I try to make sense of it all in what I do understand, in the beautiful things I adore that I associate with you who I cherish. In literature, music, photography, I see you in everything all at once. When I read poetic lines, I think I could share it with you. When I hear beautiful music, I imagine you might enjoy listening to the tune too. When I discover stunning sceneries, I plan to bring you there someday to share a moment with you.

Now, I can make sense of it. I understand how the poets of old felt as they penned the love and awe they felt towards the Fairest Queen. It's a rare sentiment that cannot easily be put into words, a feeling as if it held my delicate heart and squeezed when I so much as thought of you. When a song and its composer can bring an audience to tears, I understand that now too. Hearing your voice for the first time, formed a knot in my throat that prevented me from saying much. Catching that first glimpse of you, was like gazing at a perfect painted portrait hanging in a museum.

My dearest player, I am a Hunt. I am naturally inquisitive by nature, and my fondness for you comes just as naturally. You may consider it wrong, but I will continue to offer my loyalty even if you may not accept it.

My aim is to one day unlock your secrets, solve your mysteries, and understand you fully, learn what makes you tick and what drives you forward. Perhaps when the day comes when you've forgiven me for my crimes, I can proudly stand in your presence and recite the poems I have written in your name. I could admire you everyday from then on, and remind you everyday of your worth. Then, I will protect you, from all harm, and I will not allow myself to fail you once again. This is a promise.

Should you need me, I will be there.

Yours,

Rook Hunt

There was something that felt... off. Compared to some of the previous letters, these were rather tame. Of course, there was the desperation and fascination evident in their words captured by the ink, but it was nowhere near as extreme as other cases.

Although, it was still chilling, to read the thoughts they penned.

In your hand you held the arrow the letter had been connected to, feeling its thin shape and the sharpened head at its tip that nearly pricked your finger. The vice dormleader had excellent aim, and had he not been so kind, arrows like this one in your hand could've easily been driven through your flesh and caught you against a tree where you would've been helpless in their grasps.

And yet, despite the opportunities he had, he didn't let a single weapon touch you. All it would take was one arrow, one moment and he could've ended you where you stood. But he spared you. However, there's the lingering doubt that maybe the primary reason he did it was he hoped you had answers to the malfunctioning vessel. You couldn't be sure exactly why he spared you, when everyone had wanted to torment and imprison you or worse.

Beside you, there's a large crunch and a content purr. When you look over, there's Grim, happily munching away on an apple he held with his little paws. He sank his fangs into the fruit, content that he finally found an offering that appeased him. In front of him was a small basket, filled with more juicy red apples.

"These are great! And, even though I was the one who found them, I'll let you have some!" Grim picked up another apple from the basket, sticking his claws into the red peel and offering it with his little grin. Nevermind the fact that these were probably meant as a gift for you and not for him, but you didn't mind. They would have likely ended up in the trash anyways, at least someone could enjoy them.

"You should really have one. You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry, but thanks. You can have them." Ever since everything happened, you weren't too keen on accepting gifts, especially if they were consumable. For now, the only places you'd accept food from, was the cafeteria you'd venture too at the dead of night when no one was there, or Sam's shop.

In the spot of the basket where Grim had removed the apple, there was a white layer at the bottom of the basket. Perplexed, you reached in and found an envelope hidden by the piled apples.

Unsurprisingly, the envelope smelled of sweet things, apples, cinnamon, and freshly baked pies. The envelope itself was nothing special, it had no intricate wax seal or marking. It was loosely sealed shut by a brown piece of string, and covered in some white and pink apples blossoms.

The inside was less impressive, more authentic, which was refreshing in a way. Smooth cursive flowed into slightly choppy print scrawled out in uneven lines, before eventually returning back to cursive at the end of some sentences. It appears parts were rushed judging by the blotted ink stains at multiple periods. The apples were a clue as to who the sender may be, but why would the letter be hidden in a gift?

Dear Player,

If you're reading this, that means my letter got through.

Where do I even start? It seems right that I first say sorry. I'm sorry. It sounds like a load of bull, but I am sorry. Apologizing in all these other ways, won't make this any better, so, I thought this might help. I'm gonna be completely honest with you, no lies, no tricks, just the blunt truth. I'm not going to be showing you these pretty sides I polished to impress and to mask all the ugly. I'll tell you everything that's been going on. That's something only I have the guts to do.

The reason I hid this letter was because Vil and Rook have been checking anything I want to write to you. They want to keep up this positive front, they wanna at least pretend to be perfect enough to be near you. At least, that's what I think. Although I know we won't ever come close to that.

Instead of trying to write a real and honest letter for you, it feels like I was writing some essay for Professor Trein to grade. I'd have to write and write, and even if the grammar was right, the message wasn't. They want to make you think everything's okay, when it's not. I can only imagine what elegant crap they were spewing in their own fancy letters, while we're actually all a mess. We've been like this since Yuu broke down. I try to understand them, and in a way I do, but sometimes they freak me out. Yeah, I got my own problems trying to comprehend all this chaos, but they're different.

Is everyone else in the other dorms this extreme? This miserable and on the verge of breaking? Maybe you won't believe me, or maybe you'll realize that there's some truth to what I'm saying. Here, in Pomefiore, I can only tell you what I've seen. These days, Rook's smile seems strained, like he's about to snap, his eyes are sharp and watchful. The only time his smile is normal is when he's looking at some photo, but he won't ever let me see what it is. Vil, well, the only sign he's still alive and kicking are the packages that come in for him, new makeup and all that stuff, things he's using to craft that perfect mask. I did see him one night out in the hall, I swear there was mascara down his face but I was too put off to approach when he was like that.

Don't ever tell them I told you all this. Vil would probably skin me alive and wear me as a robe, and Rook... I don't want to think about what he would do... I'm kidding by the way, but seriously, don't ever tell them. I told you I would be honest to you, so here's my reason. I thought that maybe telling you all this would score me points with you, get you to trust me again. Even if this is a rotten way to go about it, I don't care.

I am rotten, and I won't hide it like them.

If I can't even be honest with you, then do I really deserve a second chance at all?

Scratch that. I don't deserve a second chance at all after everything that happened. What I did was downright terrible, but I'm trying my damnedest to be deserving again. And I won't stop trying, even if part of me thinks it's useless. I never cared for Yuu, the only reason I acted for them was because it was you behind them. My goal is to eventually be beside you, the real you.

Although, a basket of apples is a crummy way to go about things, but think of it like a peace offering. Just cause I can't get word to you, don't mean I give up. I'm not giving up. Ever. Everyone's going about their own roundabout ways of mending things. If you want to hear more, I'll gladly tell you. I don't think anyone else would tell you the truth of what's happening, because in a sense everyone wants to appeal to you with the best image of themselves they can possible portray. Don't believe all the hogwash they send you. If whoever sends something and seems to be stable, they're not. Not completely.

I'm awfully ashamed to admit it, but I'm not okay. Not since everything started, and not since everything went to hell when shit hit the fan. I'm not okay without you, and I got myself to blame for that.

This letter is helping. The thought of communicating with you again, even if I can't see your face or hear your voice and its reduced to words on paper, it's more than I could ask for. So, if you want me to spill the beans, just ask. If not, if there's no response, well, I'll get a bit of comfort thinking you might've read this. Besides, I have hope with each attempt I'll make. I'm not just rottenly selfish, I'm stubborn to a fault. And if I have to knock down someone else's chances to get closer, then that's fine by me.

All you gotta do is talk to me.

Until then, hoping to speak to you soon,

Epel Felmier

[twstgarden]

✰ ❝ 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗿𝘂𝗻 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝗲? ❞

━ yan! malleus draconia, yan! vil schoenheit x gn! reader (reader can either be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ it seems you have caught the eye of a certain dorm leader(s) in night raven college, but it doesn't seem like he'll let you run off and not be his. you have no choice but to marry him, and you have no choice but to be his perfect lover.

cw: (including but not limited to) yandere themes, mentions of kidnapping, slight dollification, non-consensual drug use, possessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, mentions of forced marriage

requested by: anonymous request type: oneshot requester’s message: Hello mina!! Can i please request a yandere vil or malleus one-shot any pronouns is good hehe and i really really LOVE your dévouement like when there's an update to the main story i always thought your story first tbh im more excited to your story than the main hehe that's all sorry for the rant thank you po have a great day!!♡´･ᴗ･`♡ florist’s note: hello po, dévouement reader! <3 i'm really glad you love the book! i have dropped an update on that a few days ago~ as for your request, i'll do both vil and malleus, thank you for your request!

might include spoilers for chp 6 and 7! f/n means first name. do not steal or translate without my permission.

— 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙪𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙖 —

the silence was deafening in this godforsaken room. you were not even certain if you are locked up in the main castle of the dormitory or in the other area connected to it on the right side of diasomnia's map. you have been here for days, or was it weeks? months? you do not know.

all you knew is you missed a lot of classes now and you have no idea if your friends are searching for you at this very moment.

it has been way too quiet for a while now, it was starting to drive you mad.

you want to be free from this room, you want to speak to another living being, you want to take in the scent of fresh air, you want to be away from him.

everything was fine at the start, or so you thought. you had no idea what you did wrong for him to kidnap you in your sleep and lock you up in this room. you had no chains or ropes tied to your wrists and ankles. in fact, you were not even tied to anything at all! you can freely jump off the window to escape if you wish to.

oh, please. of course, you have tried that. and where did you end up? still in this room. it seems like he used some sort of magic in this room to make it hard for you to escape.

it was a huge disadvantage that you had to be kidnapped by one of the most powerful mages in the world.

'click.'

a noise.

finally. the silence was starting to drive you mad already. your eyes widened as you watched the door slightly open ajar before a tall figure entered the room, closing the door behind him as he approached you. he sat on the corner of the bed and smiled gently at you as if he did not just abduct you and lock you up in this room.

"my dear..."

his voice was deep and tender, clearly lovestruck by you as he caressed your cheek gently with the back of his hands. however, your eyes remained on the door, thinking of ways to escape and run away from here.

he seemed to have noticed your lingering gaze on the exit door, which made him frown as he placed his finger under your chin and pulled your face up to look at him.

and once your eyes met his pained gaze, his finger stroked your cheek as he whispered, "please don't look at the door. i don't want to feel like you're trying to run away from me."

"then set me free."

you demanded softly, wanting to keep that slightly peaceful conversation going, not wanting to piss him off as you still wish to go to sleep with all four limbs intact. his pained gaze turned even sadder as he sat closer to you, "but why? i give you everything you could possibly need. we are to be wed soon, my love. you'll have all the riches you need, you'll have the finest jewellery and clothes in the world, you'll live in my palace and be royalty..."

it might sound like a dream, but it isn't what you desire. you don't even see him in a romantic way either. you wanted to tear up as you imagined your future the moment he mentions marriage, "...i don't want those. i want to go back... i want to see my friends... i don't want to get married, i don't want to become a royal consort with no freedom..."

your words seemed to make him upset. who would reject his offer? he's giving you everything that he thinks would make you happy! his eyes narrowed as he looked at you and huffed, "why would you choose that? all they do is take you away from me."

"i was never yours to begin with!" you argued as tears started to prickle at the corner of your eyes, growing desperate to be free and be away from him and anyone associated with him.

after your little outburst, it was uncomfortably silent in the room, only your soft sniffles and breathing were heard as he sat before you with an unreadable expression, but you knew he was pissed as hell now.

he suddenly stood up and turned his back on you, walking away from the bed and heading to the door. the last thing you heard from him before he left your room and locked the door made you want to sob even more.

"we are getting married whether you like it or not. you do not have a choice."

— 𝙫𝙞𝙡 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙣𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙩 —

the lights of pomefiore's bedrooms normally appear aesthetically pleasing to you, but right now, it served as a frustrating reminder that you have been in the same room for more than 24 hours now, staring at the same objects over and over again, unable to move your limbs to run away from this wretched room.

the brush tickling your cheeks, as it applied a red hue to them, felt like thorns brushing and scratching your skin despite its softness. it was unbearable. you have been sitting on this vanity chair for far too long now, not even sure of how you look like with how you've been tickled and dabbed with makeup brushes and sponges all day long.

a pair of amethyst eyes carefully watched as his hands did all the work on dolling up your face. once he was satisfied, he turned the vanity chair around to make you face the mirror.

you look like a fashion doll.

at least it was better than looking like a clown caked with makeup.

you had to admit, his skills were good. the makeup suits you perfectly and the outfit he made you wear looks gorgeous on you, but it would have been better if he did not paralyze you in the first place with his unique magic by cursing your drink.

you could not respond. you could not even move your hand to touch your face, but he seemed very pleased with himself as he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand.

"you look perfect."

perfect.

perfect.

perfect.

you were nothing but perfect in his eyes right after he dolls you up every time. you felt like you were just a mannequin for him to beautify and show off to everyone, claiming you were his darling lover, that you would forever be the love of his life.

even if you were paralyzed, your eyes filled up with tears. you wanted nothing more than to run away from this place and hide. vil clicked his tongue at the sight of your tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

"if you dare mess up my work with your tears, i'm cursing your drink again and i'll redo everything."

you wished you could stop, but his threats sent your heart throbbing with fear as you could not hold it in anymore. tears started to roll down your cheeks as the fear in your heart grew, wishing you could just disappear in the blink of an eye, but alas, you were not blessed with magic, unlike everyone else in this prestigious academy.

vil groaned and harshly held your face by your cheeks, messing up the makeup with your tears and making you look at the mirror as he glared at your reflection, "look what you've done."

and as if the gods have heard your plea, you can suddenly move again. it has been past the time limit of when his unique magic's conditions are met, and once you regained your mobility, you held onto his wrist and tried to pull his hand away from your face.

"please, stop! i'm sorry, i'll fix it!" you pleaded, sobbing even more as vil pulled his hand away from your face and landed a slap on your cheek before making you look at him again. "fix? you're not even good enough to apply makeup on your own," hissed the man harshly as he glared at you.

he sighed as he stood straight, closing his eyes and placing his fingers on his temple to show how stressed he was. the pomefiore dorm leader looked at you with a glare before grabbing your cup on his bedside table, refilling it with your drink of choice and casting his unique magic on it.

this time, his conditions included a longer time limit than earlier.

vil stood before you with the cursed or drugged drink and held your face with one hand to try and pry your mouth open. he brought the glass to your lips, forcing you to drink the beverage as you started hitting his arm and struggling, hoping he would stop forcing the cursed drink down your throat, but his strength was overwhelming. his grip on your cheeks made it feel like your face was about to break if he gripped you a little harder.

you struggled to push him away as he forced the drink down your throat, and once he was finished, he placed the cup on his desk and made you sit properly, leaving you paralyzed in that same position once again.

tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you sobbed and pleaded for him to stop. at least this time, his conditions did not include taking away your ability to speak. vil leaned down to look at you right into your fearful eyes as he whispered, "stop looking so frightened when i'm around."

vil gave you a small smile before placing a tender kiss on your forehead. it felt patronising, as if he was taking any ounce of authority you have left in you and taking full control of your life. he leaned his cheek on your head as you both looked into your reflections in the mirror, seeing his endearing smile after doing something drastic to you made you sick to your stomach.

how could he smile after treating you so harshly?

"i'm only doing this out of love, my darling. you have to look perfect before we go out for dinner, no?"

© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[luxthestrange]

TWST Incorrect quotes#148 The Hunt

Rook: Alright, I'll tell you all I have to offer myself to be yours*On his knee with a hand on his chest (Very Prince-like pose)*

Yuu*Looks down at him with confusion*...Uh-huh

Rook:Loyalty!Honesty!Support!And my obsession for you~*Prominenet blush with hearts in his eyes*

Yuu: Okay...I admit that all of that sounds very good...but...What was the last part?*Sweat drops*

Rook*With a bouquet of roses at the ready for you*That I will always be there for you~( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[4e7her]

october writing prompt #13 "don't look.”

-

character: vil schoenheit, twst

contains: yandere themes, gn reader, blood mentioned, implied violence

“Don’t look, darling. Look at me instead. It’ll be okay, just look at me, dear.”

Vil coaxes like everything is just fine, like there isn’t blood splattered over his clothes and the wall behind him. Like the evidence of what he had done wasn’t all over, well, everything.

He frowns when he sees you still drifting in thought, and you wish you had the strength to say that you were anything but scared of him. Seeing him commit such violence without a second thought, straying far from the picture of poise and restraint that he displayed himself as, was fucking terrifying. You desperately wished you could say that he wasn’t pretty like this, but you would be lying. If anything, he looked like he just came from a movie set - a horror movie, granted, but nonetheless. It was just… off putting.

“Poor thing. Too violent for you, hm?”

Faux sympathy laces his tone heavily, and he comes forward to… comfort you? You flinch back no matter what his intentions are, and that just serves to make him frown deeper.

“Mm… I understand, love, you’re just overwhelmed. I know its a bit shocking, dear, but you’ll come to accept my affections. I forgive you.” He sighs, and your eyes grow wide with the realization that’s he’s being serious. This isn’t a ploy to trick you - this is his honest interpretation of the scene. That you’re overwhelmed. Not that he was scaring you, no, but that you couldn’t believe his love confession. Which this… apparently was.

What… What the fuck?

You scramble away from him the best you can, eyebrows heavily furrowed and thoughts racing. You hardly realize that you’re cutting off your own escape, too preoccupied with putting distance in between you and Vil.

He does, though.

The look in his eyes when you realize that you’re trapped is one you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

-

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