#yandere trey

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hi!! I really love your writting🥰 i would like to request for the self-aware au, Reader hiding behind them after being chased by some particularly pushy NPCs with Rook, Trey, and Jack please❤️

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, description of violence, blood, obsession, stalking

Trey Clover/Jack Howl/Rook Hunt-Hiding behind them

Ah, what a nice day. In fact, it is perfect for trying out that recipe with that dough that needed to rest for a while

Or rather, that was his plan for the day until he suddenly heard two pairs of footsteps rushing into the dorm kitchen

And no, it was not the kind of footsteps that spoke of joy like the ones of his siblings did. from time to time, it sounded panicked

Just a second later you entered the kitchen with an octavinelle student, the latter one trying to catch up to you

Before the baker could figure out what was going on, you were suddenly behind him, using his body as a shield

Oh… oh!

Was this guy harassing you?

How dare he? How dare-

Deep breaths. Very deep breaths - would be something he would have said to himself if he wasn't this angry

By some miracle, he was able to hold himself together

He was this close to loose his reputation as "that nice hat wearing baker"

A strict look towards the student and you were finally alone with him

For you the whole thing was over but for that student?

Suddenly the poor lad fell ill, claiming that he had stomach problems

Heck, he couldn't even keep his food down

Such a shame... Trey surely hoped he would survive

Who else could he secretly gift those cakes? You? Oh no... It's just that he experiments with some new recipes...

Ignore that bottle in the cupboard

Jack is someone who keeps his friends very close and is not afraid to stand up for them

Only that he saw you as someone more precious than a friend

So when he saw you running away from a student and slipping behind him he saw the world just a tiny bit tinted red

The young wolf beastman isn't someone who uses violence just because he can do or feel like using it

(Honestly, at this point he is more like your little dog than some fearsome wolf)

Just because he didn't turn the student into very biological and mushy fertiliser for the flowers then and there doesn't mean he was calm though

Grabbing the not so nice company of yours, he told you to not worry and leave your little problem to him

Ah yes, Jack Howl, that kind acquaintance of yours

How nice of him

But you know, there are also tales about wolves acting as if they are kind just to devour you

Of course Jack didn't do that

Does not mean that things went as peaceful as you thought they did after you left

Jack usually keeps his instincts under control but on that evening he had to cut his nails very short and scrub his hands

Anyone would be horrified after the sensation of calcium breaking under their hand, splintering like old, dried out wood under a saw

He should feel guilty but... it was hard to do so

Which brings us back to a sink being used by a certain beastman

Geez, some things are so hard to get off of skin once it dries, wouldn't you agree?

First of all, it's a wonder the hunter wasn't watching you from a tree (or something like that... who knew bushes could walk in this world)

If he had he would have immediately revealed himself by slithering in between you and that oh so foolish first year

But alas, apparently a miracle happened and this time it was you seeking out him

When Rook heart the certain sound of your shoes hitting the ground he was swivelling around, a poem about his devotion towards you already on his tongue...

And them you hid behind his arm curtains (you know, their dorm uniforms sleves)

Did hiw beloved Overseer, perfection and liberatir in person finally choose him as their most favorite- no? Ok that's cool too

If this was any other situation he would have started a speech in his wannabe French, stating how short he was by your rejection

But right now he had to deal with your little stalker (don't try to act all innocent, Rook, you did the same many more times than they ever could without being noticed)

Trying to calm you down the hunter brought you to Pomfiore

And nothing weir happened

No I am not joking, Rook was his usual normal self (if we want to call at best flirtatious remarks and at worst frantic devoted ramblings normal)

From then on you were much closer to the hunter

Especially after a body was found

And oh, how grateful Rook was for not having the time to get rid of the body on that day

Of course, he had noticed how ce fou followed you two to the dorm

How trusting you were when he told you that he wanted to get you two something to drink...

And there the parasite still was, lingering around the entrance of his dorm

The only regret Rook had was finishing his job so quickly

It was always such a bore whenever his prey wouldn't squirm

Well, at least you were now close to him

Just be careful, the hunter was also back then the one bringing her highness a false heart. Who knows how much he would lie to get you all to himself?

Uh and… maybe don't open that box he has in his room in a cooler. He told you he keeps some sort of trophy in there and I think that is all we need to know

[pinkie-pop]

Pop's Self-Aware AU: Heartslyabul

Intro Heartslyabul Savannaclaw

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Twisted Wonderland x Reader. Yandere x Reader, Self Aware Twisted Wonderland

"Happy unbirthday! You're five minutes early and right on time. Hurry, pick a seat and grab a cup, you're the main character of today, so why not sit up by the front? Of course, by front I mean back, and by back I mean front. Oh, don't look so confused, dear, this is just how we do things around these parts. You'll get used to it soon.

Now, do you take your sugar with tea or with honey?"

>[Go to Heartslyabul]

Riddle Rosehearts:

He's a real stickler for the rules. Best not to anger him, lest it be off with your head. But you don't have to worry about that, do you?

Indeed, to Heartslyabul's housewarden, you are a being that sits above even the most important of the Queen's laws. Or, perhaps it is more accurate to say that you are the law itself? To Riddle, you are a perfect being—the pinnacle of righteousness. No matter what you do, no matter what rules you break or how unscrupulous you may behave, it does not matter. You are not wrong. You can't be. It is everything else that is wrong.

It is with this unshakable faith that he rules over his dorm, gradually changing everything to suit your tastes. Of course, you'll acknowledge his efforts—won't you?

You have to. If you don't, then what was this all for?

Please accept them. Accept him. For you, he'd do anything.

There is nothing more important.

Trey Clover:

There's something sinister hidden behind his kind smile and brotherly persona—a wolf in sheep's clothing, if you'll forgive me for sounding cliché. It's something kept under wraps, and few had ever gotten unlucky enough to see it...until you came into the picture, that is.

Don't get the wrong idea now. This sadism would never be directed towards you. Rather, it is everyone else that you ought to worry for, should you care enough to worry for anyone at all. Trey would do anything if it were for you. Whether it's making your favorite dessert at three in the morning due to a sudden craving or throwing it out should you change your mind, it hardly matters. If it's for you, there are no lengths he wouldn't go to. Why, if it were your wish, he would pluck out everyone's unworthy eyes so that they were unable to gaze upon your form.

It stands to reason, then, that he would be willing to hide his true self from you, as well, if only to stand by your side.

Cater Diamond:

Another one that's not quite what he seems. Cater has spent years polishing his persona to an almost sickening degree. Putting on airs is exhausting, and the rewards are hollow. A few likes on Magicam, a fleeting moment of cyber fame, or applause from the crowd at a club event---none of it means anything to him. The endorphins are empty, cold, and so, so lonely.

He's been looking for something all his life. He couldn't find meaning in the real world, so he looks for it online. There's nothing there, either, yet even so, he searches.

He can't give up. He has to find something. If he doesn't...

Perhaps the universe decided to finally take pity on him, to throw him a bone, because finally, finally, he found it. Something more than just what's tangible. A purpose. A goal. Something to strive for, someone to impress.

You.

Duece Spade:

He's never really been a good kid. Bad grades. Bad attitude. The only way he knew how to communicate was through his fists. He hated it, but he didn't know how to change. But Duece is nothing if not stubborn. Even if he didn't know how to do something, he'd still brute his way into doing it. Even when it was sloppy. Even when he did it badly.

He wanted to change. Wanted to turn over a new leaf and make his mother proud. He finally had a chance to, after enrolling in Night Raven College. It was clear that he was out of his element. He wanted to be an honors student without knowing what it meant.

Then he met you. And everything fell into place.

You, perfect, amazing you. You were everything he'd ever wanted to be. You helped people, even when you didn't have to. Reached out even when you were on the other side of a screen. You traveled to another dimension and still managed to carve out a place for yourself amongst the chaos.

You were everything. And he'd give anything to you.

Ace Trappola:

Ace isn't exactly the lovey-dovey type. Never has been and thought he never would be, either. But...something about you makes him want to give it a try.

It's gross, honestly---the way you make him feel all warm and mushy. It's lame. He's lame. And yet, he doesn't seem to mind. He can't find it in himself to hate you. Of course not, how could he, when you're so...you?

You've made him a real sap, you know? But that's okay. Ace doesn't mind being sappy if it's for you. The others may tease him for it, but he knows they're all jealous of him. After all, he's your best friend, isn't he? Sure, your first impression of him may not have been all that great, but he's still the one who's stuck with you the longest.

He was the first human you made friends with.

He was the first, and he'll do whatever it takes to ensure that he's the favorite, too.

Unbirthday parties are so much fun; it's too bad this one was over so quick. Still, you have to go. After all, there's another dorm just down the hall. They've been scratching at the door waiting for you, so let's hurry and join them, okay?

>[Go to Savannaclaw]

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello I was wondering where is Sebek’s part on "Accidentally Sitting on Their Face". I know someone asked for it but I can’t seem to find it.

I would like to know what Deuce or Trey’s reaction in that situation.

As of now both parts of the TWST masterlist is updated

🖤🖤🖤

Accidentally Sitting On Their Face (11) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Deuce Spade

“D-deuce, a-are you sure you can hold me up long enough?”

“Yeah, no worries. I’ve got this!”

“Alright then.”

Turns out he did not have it or rather you

Because when you fell down you had a Deuce-shaped cushion snuggly holding you up

“D-deuce! I-I told you! Are you okay?!”

“I’m perfectly g-g-g-great!”

He’s walking funny with anything that reminds him of the incident miracle

He’s definitely on cloud 9

Even those he wouldn’t think twice about fighting 

Will have to wait for his feverish reminiscing to end

Trey Clover

“T-trey!I don’t think–Ah I’m slipping!”

“That’s okay, I’ve got you!”

After all, he was the one who made you go up on the counter to get the sugar

And he does catch you though

Burning up suffocating under you and the spilled sugar you’re both covered in

He doesn’t say anything when you wordlessly get up to fuss around the kitchen

Completely not noticing his pristine glasses being put on 

Guess its back to cleaning the kitchen, after he goes to the bathroom for a bit

You’re not cooking with anyone else lest you fall prey to another’s dubious schemes

[merakiui]

everything is going to be okay.

yandere!trey clover x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, descriptions of unsettling imagery, derealization, implied drugging, descriptions of hyperdontia, descriptions of teeth falling out, non-graphic allusions to sexual assault, emotional manipulation, gaslighting note: 01110111011011110111010101101100011001000010000001101001001000000110110001101001011001010010000001110100011011110010000001111001011011110111010100111111

i. itchiness - the worst feeling in the world is knowing something is inside of you, and there’s nothing you can do to get it out.

A white rabbit blinks up at you with its beady, red eyes. Its nose twitches. Once. Twice. Thrice. A quiet breeze slithers through the field in which you currently stand, surrounded by lush greenery and colorful wildflowers. They sprawl endlessly, clawing at the horizon beyond with botanical fingers. You watch rainbows sway, dewy petals fluttering like butterfly wings beating against a cloudless, cerulean sky.

You take one step towards the rabbit and it takes off in a sprint, bounding through knee-high grass. You stagger after it, crushing flowers underfoot. Stems snap like spines, sturdy until smashed. You hear agony whispered in the wind: How could you? How could you? How could you?

Shrugging it off, you pursue the rabbit. The grass grows with every passing minute, thickening in abundance. It’s so tall it blocks your view of the sun, eclipsing your figure like a menacing shadow. You fight through it, your gaze pinned solely on the speck of white fur. Verdant blades brush your skin, soft like silk. Itchy like hair. Itchy like maggots wriggling in marrow.

Itchy.

You struggle through the infestation until, eventually, you burst through the grass. The other side is calmer here. When you glance back at the way you came, you find a wall of grass stretching up into the above. The wildflowers are nowhere to be seen, but you can hear them when you stick your head through the grass. They’re still weeping: Why? Why? Why? It’s not fair. We were so happy. You’ve stomped us out—ruined us. We’ll never grow back the same.

“You coming?”

You whirl at the sound of a familiar voice, scanning the field in search of him. Instead, the rabbit is just a few feet away. It tilts its head at you, ears pricked. You meet its scarlet stare.

Something tells you you’re better off waiting. There’s no point in chasing, but curiosity crawls into your cranium. You hurry ahead, single steps sliding into fast, frantic footfalls. The rabbit moves quickly, its little legs thumping against the ground. You run until your every breath squeezes your heart. Until your head is dizzy. Until you’re nauseous and panting.

You run all the way to the edge of a forest, the field falling away in patches, and you reach for the trees, fingers splayed. The rabbit is within your grasp.

You step with your right leg and crush a violet butterwort.

Pain shoots through your foot in a white-hot flash. The butterwort stabs through your sole, emerging from your flesh as if it’s simply a clay pot with soil for snuggling. You yank your leg away and roots are ripped from the ground with it, attached to the flower stuck in your foot. Warm blood trickles out. Green grass is stained rusty-red. It sweeps along your calf, a physical lullaby.

Itchy.

“Fuck,” you hiss, stumbling backwards. The root goes with you, an endless strand set deep into the ground. You tug, but the flower persists. It folds itself into a bow and wraps its petals around your foot in a parasitic hug. “Let go of me.”

At the edge of the forest, the rabbit remains. Watching. Waiting. Wondering.

You flop onto your side, breathing heavy and haggard. The pain is itchy. The blood is itchy. The flower is itchy. You grab at it with shaky fingers and attempt to pry it off. Trees tower overhead, bark bending forwards to loom like leering fiends. With all of your might, you yank the butterwort out. It comes free with a sickening snap, soil-speckled roots dragging through the hole in your foot.

Itchy.

Between the breeze and your devastated whimpers, you hear it—the withered wheezing of the earth beneath your body.

Suddenly, the trees have eyes. Suddenly, everything is alive.

Desperately, you stretch your arm towards the rabbit. It blinks at you. Once. Twice. Thrice. And then it turns and disappears into the forest beyond.

You roll over on your back just as more butterworts bloom from soil moistened with your blood. A garden germinates from flesh and bone.

You shut your eyes.

Itchy.

When you open them, you see a single blade of grass backdropped by a cumulus-spotted sky. He peers down at you, glasses glinting in the sunlight, and offers his hand.

“Nice day for a nap, isn’t it?” He smiles a boyish, lopsided grin.

You stare for another quiet second before closing your hand around his. “Trey…”

Right. Your friend, Trey, who offered to stay with you in the wake of…something. Something about companionship. Something about looking out for you during difficult times. Something about something. 

Was that it? What did he say again?

Words are a valuable thing for people like Trey. When strung together, they create stories and Trey is especially good at amazing others with sugared ambiguity.

You allow him to pull you up. When he moves to brush the grass clinging to your clothes, you jerk away. The two of you stare at each other for an abnormally long time.

A discordant note resounds within your head, a strangled cry from a pretty piano. The jarring crash of splintered glass. Looking at him now, in his green-and-white checkered jumper and boring, beige slacks, you feel…itchy. There’s a dull ache at the back of your throat. You think you might be coming down with a cold.

Spring is just starting to poke through the frost of winter. Even though today’s sunny and the weather is warmer than usual, there’s a frigid feeling in the air. A disconnect between seasons. That odd border between not-quite-winter and not-quite-spring.

“How long was I out for?”

Trey’s hand falls to his side. “Long enough to give the muffins time to cool.” He nods in the direction of the house, a quaint structure built at the edge of the forest. “I made your favorite.”

You brighten like candles lit in a birthday cake. Twenty of them, in fact, all arranged perfectly. It will take twenty more for you to overcome the tragedy of never having the chance to partake, for every slice was dragged onto the plate and devoured with haste. And all the while the flames flickered, burning wax down to tiny stumps.

Itchy.

Blueberry muffins are placed on a circular glass plate. The accompanying dome lid sits off to the side. You take one and turn it over in your hands. How does someone determine their favorite food? And when does that food stop becoming a preference? Memories attach themselves to everything: clothing, rooms, bodies. Even food. If something unsavory happens when indulging in a favorite, the memory soaks into the batter. The next time you encounter it, even if it’s in a dream, you avoid it. Not because the food has lost its flavor, but because the memory has corrupted the comfort of the gastronomic experience.

In a distant past, you think you liked blueberry muffins. Certainly at one point, right?

Still, you bring it to your lips and bite into spongy bliss.

Blood fills your mouth.

Trey’s initial placidity morphs into something disturbed. He moves to your side, to your aid, but you shove him away. The blueberry muffin lands on the table in a spoiled heap, crumbs scattering. You spit chunks of muffin into your palms. It feels like something’s lodged in your throat. A tiny porcelain hand pinching the skin of your esophagus in an unrelenting hold. A wad of something impossible to swallow. Like words or screams.

Crimson-tinged saliva dribbles past your lips. Lying in your hands, amidst bits of chewed muffin, is a sliver of skin.

“(Name)?”

Your name sounds wrong on his tongue.

“Hey, are you okay? Let me get you some water. Wait right there.”

Wrong. It’s wrong.

You stare at the flabby piece of skin. Your skin.

Trey returns with the aforementioned water. He pulls a chair out from the table. “Sit and have a drink. Not too fast. Slowly now.”

The rest of the muffin is swept away, destined for the rubbish bin. While you watch Trey clean up your mess, you sip at lukewarm water. Your tongue squirms in your mouth, searching for the space that’s now bleeding freely. You find it, almost like one finds the space where a missing tooth ought to be, and prod at it with your tongue. It’s raw and sensitive. Stinging slightly. You wince.

“Bit my cheek,” comes your reply when Trey walks over. He wipes his hands on a towel patterned with tulips. “Hurts.”

Trey frowns. Golden hues flick from the plate of muffins to your forlorn face. He lowers to his knees, peering up at you through his glasses. “Don’t eat so fast next time, all right? You could choke.”

“Tastes funny.”

“I can’t imagine it’s very appetizing. Blood and blueberry muffins… A crazy combo, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

He chuckles. “Well.” He runs his hand through his hair. It reminds you of the grass and trees outside. Of a summer that has long since passed. “Nothing like a little scare to liven the afternoon. How’re you feeling?”

You set your half-empty glass on the table. “Better. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. You wanna try another one? I promise the next one won’t have you biting your cheek.”

“I… I think I’m good. Thank you, though.”

“As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.” Trey smiles. “I’ll make something softer for dinner. Any requests for the chef?”

You think back on all of your favorites and choose something you wouldn’t mind losing. “Lentil soup.”

After tonight, you’ll never enjoy the taste of that dish again.

Maybe that’s okay. Soups are easy to eat. Easy to slip special sentiments in.

Soup is what becomes of your brain when your body is too itchy.

ii. incessant - static is buzzing in your ears. buzzing, buzzing, buzzing. fluffy like bumblebees. sharp as a sting.

The elusive rabbit is looking at you again, red eyes boring into the back of your skull. You glance over your shoulder at it. A little bow fashioned from blades of grass is fastened around its neck. It nods in a new direction, urging you to follow. For a moment, you stand there and wait. Deep down in some forgotten corner of your stomach, you know you’ll never be able to catch the rabbit.

So you fall into step as it hops off to its destination.

Hedges line the horizon, boasting roses and thorns. The rabbit leads you all the way to the entrance of the maze. A xylophone rattles. You step forward. Another hedge rises from the ground up to trap you inside. With the rabbit out of sight and no other way around, you trek onwards into the maze.

The frequency at which xylophone chimes are registered and translated in your mind are muffled. At best, they’re almost silenced. At worst, they are static—piercing and grating in your ears.

Amidst so much static, Trey’s voice has always remained at the same pitch. An immutable intonation, one that fills the clouds with buoyant assurances: Just relax. You’re all right. I’ve got you.

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him shout, but that makes sense. Grass only whistles and shivers in the breeze. It never screams. It’s soft and sweet—a wondrous embrace until it begins to feel itchy with time. Like a wool sweater. Like ants crawling in lines up your arms. Like cobwebs wrapped around your wrists.

The grass in your garden sounds more like static. Incessant, ear-splitting static. In your brain, bunching up like scribbles on paper, and falling in waterfalls from his mouth whenever he speaks.

It was static you heard when the grass cradled you in wispy tendrils.

Quiet at first, as if the world had been clicked off like a bad program on television, and then the static came seeping in. Rot was encroaching, grabbing at the rabbit and gutting it before your horrified eyes.

Somewhere within the maze, a jovial, uplifting song spills from a spinet. It puts you at ease, filling your soul with serenity.

Itchy dissonance. A rabbit split open, gooey innards tumbling free. Cotton fur tarnished. Lines running red.

Dead.

The spinet swells with rhythm. You’re walking yourself into corners, traveling in circles.

Incessant melodies, ringing in your ears like cicada shrieks.

The circle winds around and around. Where are you going? Hedges on either side, white roses blooming from comforting green. The deeper you delve, the darker they bloom. Mottled, petals wilting, white closes up and shrivels away.

Blotted black with tar, trailing in thick streaks.

Your feet pound against mossy meadows. You need to find the exit. It’s here and then there and then here again. It’s everywhere and then it’s nowhere. It’s here. Here. Here. Here. Here—

Now it’s there!

Static screeches. Blood trickles from your ears.

It hurts until it doesn’t. Until the static numbs everything and all that’s left is nothing. Blank and bitter, a wonderland set on mute.

The hedges breathe alongside you. It’s incessant, unintelligible static.

Frosting melts on cake. Pastels are sticky and spoiled. Candles droop.

A xylophone played in garbled glissando.

Quiet breaths. In and out. In and out. The grass whispers to you: “Hey, it’s fine. You trust me, right?”

In and out.

Out and in.

In and out.

Out. Out. Out. Incessant itchiness. Get it out.

Glass shatters. The rabbit’s heart, still beating faintly, is slit. 

That…didn’t just happen, did it?

It didn’t, right?

Grass is supposed to be soft and full of life when watered with love.

That didn’t just happen.

What happened?

The grass billows in a breeze. “You’re fine. I’ve got you.”

You’re not. You…are anything but fine.

What happened?

You run under an arch, past thinning hedges, over the threshold, and burst into the kitchen.

“Trey!”

He startles, almost dropping a bowl of cake batter. His glasses sit crooked on his face. It takes a moment for him to process your arrival. He sets the bowl on the countertop and turns fully to face you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His concern makes your skin prickle.

Itchy.

“Everything okay?”

Incessant.

“Why…” Your fingers curl around the doorframe. You gulp down a gasp. “Why are you here again?”

He gives you a weird look. “You said you needed my help—that you were having trouble getting up in the morning. Remember? Actually… Here. How about this? Do you want me to fix you a cup of chamomile? It’ll help with anxiety and insomnia.”

Your once rapid-moving world slows to a screeching halt. You said that? When? When did you say that? When the fuck did you say that?

“I…don’t remember saying that. Ever. I don’t think I invited you here either…”

Trey shakes his head, tutting softly. “I get it. It’s rough. I know.” He folds the spatula through the batter. Calmly. “But you’re exaggerating. I’m only here to help.”

Static. Incessant, itchy static. You blink owlishly at him, straining to hear over it.

“What?”

“I came over because you asked me to, and I’m staying to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.” You point towards the door. “I think… Trey, I think you need to leave.”

His arm, which had previously been moving in circles, falls still. He sets the bowl down again. “We’ve talked about this before, (Name).”

“I don’t remember.”

“All the more reason for me to stay, yeah?”

“No… No, that’s not—”

Trey smiles, his tone lighthearted. “Hey, relax. You’ll feel better after something sweet. It won’t take long for the cake to bake. Wait for a little longer. If you want, you can lick the spatula when I’m done—”

“I don’t want cake.”

“No? I remember you told me it was your favorite, though. Am I remembering wrong?”

Is he?

“It’s…gross.”

“Gross?” He chuckles sheepishly. “That bad, huh? Not a fan of my baking?”

You gaze past him at the batter in the bowl. Confetti cake. You look towards Trey again. “What was that?”

He opens his mouth, but you don’t hear the words.

Static.

Incessant, itchy static.

You track his lips, his eyes, his hands.

“What?”

Sound seeps in, crunchy but audible.

“…a joke,” he’s saying. “I was just joking.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Don’t worry about it. My feelings aren’t hurt. I know you enjoy my baking.”

The TV tunes into a nonexistent channel. Static buzzes on the screen.

Loud. Louder. So loud!

You can’t hear yourself think. Can’t hear your lungs wheeze. Can’t hear yourself speaking slowly as you stumble into the grass’s green embrace.

Incessant. You’ll go insane. Static. Incessant. Too much. You feel sick. Bile drags itself up your throat.

Loud. Loud. Loud. Impossibly, incessantly loud!

Your arm sweeps through the air. The bowl is flung across the room. Ceramic shatters. Batter spatters on the wall and kitchen tiles. You feel the dull ache in the aftermath. Trey’s speaking, but it’s just static. All-consuming. Buzzing like flies over birthday cake gone bad. Incessant.

And then the TV clicks off.

And then it’s quiet.

iii. insanity - over and over and over and over and over and over and over and and and and and and and andandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandand01100001011100100110010100100000011110010110111101110101001000000110111101101011011000010111100100111111

Teeth. All thirty-two of them. Porcelain teeth. All forty-two of them.

They grow under your tongue and along the roof of your mouth in clusters. Insanity. It’s doing the same thing incessantly while anticipating different results. Insanity. It’s looking at too many teeth crammed where they shouldn’t be.

Opening your mouth as wide as it can go, you peer at yourself in the mirror. Your tongue runs along them. Smooth.

Teeth. All fifty-two of them. Hellish hyperdontia.

Grass is pesky when it gets in your mouth, reaching far with green fingers.

Flossing is important. If you forget, your gums will bleed and bleed, and then your mouth will be in for a world of pain. You’re smarter than this, so you need to keep up good dental hygiene. Brush and floss as you would, but not too hard or else you’ll break.

Insanity. It’s taking advice from butterworts and rabbits—from meadows tilled and filled with sin.

Teeth. Too many. Have you been flossing properly?

And then they’re at the back of your throat, sprouting from skin like the dainty heads of a dozen Frozen Charlottes. You stick your fingers down your throat to grab at one, but you can’t get hold of it. You cough. Teeth are closing up your esophagus. You look at your mouth and see a lamprey.

Insanity. It’s full of teeth.

You gag around them, heaving mouthfuls of air that struggle to reach your lungs. You feel teeth in there, too, growing in groups like an invasive species. You brace yourself against the sink, gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles sting. Your jaw is starting to feel sore.

Terrified, you find your reflection staring back with wide eyes. And then the first tooth comes loose. It falls into the basin of the sink with a pattering clink. You inhale through your nose, and that’s as much of your shock as you can express before more teeth follow suit. They shift out of your gums, one by one, until dozens of them are spilling out in calcium rain. Bent over the sink, you spit and spit. Tears threaten to pour from your eyes.

This can’t be happening.

You try to scream, to beg for it to stop, but the teeth keep coming. For every few that fall out, twenty more grow. It’s a cycle.

Insanity.

Incessant.

Itchy.

You sob helplessly, salt mingling with saliva and teeth.

When you look back at the mirror, you see blood stringing from empty gums.

The bathroom light flickers. Dizzying darkness. An unusual heat settles under your skin.

Itchy.

Incessant.

Insanity.

The bathroom light flickers. Blinding brightness. You’re still reeling. The heat won’t go away. Your eyelids are heavy. You feel sleepy, but it’s only early evening.

“Everything okay?”

You spy Trey in the mirror. His arm is propped against the doorframe as he leans in, half of his body shrouded in the shadows from the hall.

You swallow. It goes down smoothly. The teeth have retreated.

“T-Too much chamomile,” you grind out, reaching up to touch the column of your throat.

Teeth. All thirty-two of them.

The basin is empty. No teeth.

“How about a slice of bread? You’ve gotta eat something, (Name).”

“I’m not hungry.”

Your tongue traces all thirty-two of your teeth. They’re there, rooted firmly in your gums.

Trey frowns. “At least let me heat the leftover lentil. It’s liquid. You won’t bite your cheek again.”

“I might burn my tongue.”

“If you’re worried, I could feed you instead. Airplane it and everything.”

At your bewildered stare, Trey laughs and holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Joking.”

“Are you really here to help me?”

He lowers his arms. An uncanny cold fills the bathroom.

“Nothing is going to get you.”

“What?”

“There’s nothing here, (Name). You’re safe.” Trey glances down the hall for good measure. The hair on your neck rises, alert. “It’s in your head. You’re messing with yourself, you know, getting worked up over things that aren’t really there. I promise you’re okay. Nothing can hurt you while I’m here.”

It’s not in your head. Of course not. It couldn’t be.

Right?

It’s not really in your head, is it?

You storm out of the bathroom, pushing past Trey in your impatience. He follows you soundlessly. Everything looks the same. The sofa. The wallpaper. The kitchen. The cracks and creaks. Nothing’s changed.

So is it in your head? What is it—the thing in your head? It’s itchy and incessant. It makes everyone gaze at you as if you’re insane.

If you could, you’d take a scalpel to your body and cut yourself out of your skin, put it through a long wash cycle, and hang it out to dry. Maybe then the thing would leave.

You stop at the front door, suddenly hesitant. Has it all been in your head? Are you going crazy? Is Trey right: There’s nothing here and you’re making everything up?

You wrench it open.

A black rabbit blinks up at you with its milky-white eyes. Its nose twitches. Once. Twice. Thrice. A loud gust slithers through the field in which you currently observe, surrounded by decaying greenery and wilted wildflowers. They sprawl endlessly, clawing at the horizon beyond with broken fingers. You watch monochrome tones sway, dried petals flaking off like scabs against a battered, bloodless sky.

You take one step towards the rabbit and it takes off in a sprint, bounding through—

The grass gathers you in a hug. It whispers strangely soothing static.

“Everything is going to be okay.”

iv. 01101001011101000010000001110111011000010111001100100000011000010110110001110111011000010111100101110011001000000111010001110010011001010111100100101110

[ceruleancattail]

Ok ok here we go again

Can i request yandere Trey and Cater in the mystic au, with them both being friends and rivals who battle for reader's attention

I'm so sorry Anon, I might have went feral with this one-

Twisted Mortality

Mystic Trey x Mystic Cater x reader

tw: Yandere, gore, forced cannibalism

Kitsune often use their abilities for the benefit of their companions as long as they are regarded with respect. However, they are Yōkai. They do not share human morality.

Something soft drapes itself on your lap. A tail, dyed with all the gentle hues of a sunset. Light orange, fading into a pale pink. The colours seem to shift, the longer you stare at them. Waxing and waning, blending into one. Another illusion, perhaps. A trick of the light, woven into his very skin.

You can’t remember what Cater looked like, behind all the smoke and mirrors. 

As of now, he had you on his lap, his tails draping themselves over your form. Two over your lap, another two finding solace around your legs, snaking around like great big snakes. The rest seemed content to twist around your upper torso, engulfing you in their softness.

His arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on the curve of your shoulder. You could feel Cater’s every breath, with the way his chest pressed against the small of your back. His ears flicking the side of your cheek, fur brushing against your face gingerly. 

He was close.

 A little too close for your comfort.

He was always clingy when you came home, hanging all over you like a lonely puppy. Yet all his affections just seemed stifling, his very presence a hand around your throat, choking you. Every breath you took had his scent. The faint smell of incense, with a citrusy undertone. His tails, surrounding you. Caging you in his embrace, as if you were a little bird, a pet. Beads of sweat slipped down your skin, soaking your shirt. It reeked. All of his fuzz and fur only contributed to a suffocatingly balmy heat. It prickled your skin, crawling up your arms sickeningly slowly.

You squirm, palms pressing into his arms. A  plea for you to be released. If he noticed, Cater didn’t give any indication. He only lowered his head, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You could feel his breath waft against your bare skin, the barest silver of his fangs brushing over your neck. The razor sharp edges hovering over your flesh, a silent threat on his part.

Quit Struggling.

Falling limp, a sigh slips out of your lips. All you could was to sit, amusing yourself with the colours dancing across Cater’s tail. It was almost like a mirage, with the way colours faded in and out at random intervals. 

Behind you, pots and pans clanged. Metal striking against metal, utensils brought to life with Trey’s awfully skilled hands. Busy in the kitchen… again. Ever since you’ve brought him home, Trey has never let you step anywhere near the stove, let alone the kitchen. He brushed you aside with his tails, gently nudging you towards the living room. He’ll suggest for you to rest, but something in his eyes made you realise that Trey had no intention for his words to be a mere suggestion. It was an order.

Most of your duties have been taken by Trey himself. He handles almost everything now, from cleaning to cooking. You have nothing much to do, but to pamper both of your foxes whenever you’re home.

Even if you try to help, Trey’s plucking whatever you held in your hands, before chiding you gently. Master, you work yourself to the bone everyday… let Trey take care of this for you. Let him take care of you. 

“Master. The food’s ready.” 

A rich voice, tinged with a good-natured tone. Trey himself, walking out of what was once your kitchen. He holds a wooden tray, your dinner laid out in little bowls. Traditional Japanese fare, his speciality. Trey almost never lets you eat anything else anymore. Something about protecting your health. You don’t eat anything but the things Trey cooks. The last time you did, you spent hours hunched over your toilet, retching. The vile taste of vomit clung to the back of your throat for hours, the acidity of bile sinking its claws deep into your tongue. 

Come to think of it, Trey seemed particularly cheerful that day… as if he relished your suffering. A punishment of sorts, for failing to listen to his kind advice. You brushed it off at the time, just your imagination going wild again.

Now, looking at those golden pupils, you weren’t quite sure. As much as Trey looked human, there was a certain disturbing quality to his eyes, A sadistic gleam of an animal, staring down its trembling prey. A shiver ran down your spine, blood running ice cold.

You heard a faint snarl, as Cater’s arms tighten around your torso. You could feel his chest rumbling, vibrating into your back. Shaking you down to the bone. His tails sway ever so slightly, a warning. Trey only sighs, before stepping onto one of Cater’s many tails. He digs his heel into it, grinding down. Yelping in surprise, Cater loosens his hold, just barely enough to free your hands.

“What was that for, Trey?”

Cater whines, lower lip jutting out ever so slightly in a pout. Trey only shakes his head, carefully balancing the tray of food on one of Cater’s tails. He then sinks onto the space beside you and Cater. An emerald tail snakes across your waist, wrapping itself around rather loosely. Various shades of green ripple across his fur, melting into one another. Like a field of grass, morning dew twinkling on every blade. It wasn’t as soft as Cater’s, yet it carried so much more weight. 

You winced at his touch, jerking away instinctively. That was only met with a click of disapproval from Trey’s tongue, before his fingers dig into your chin. Tilting your face upwards firmly, forcing your gaze to meet his. 

A sigh, as Trey squeezes your face. The gesture, a little too harsh to be considered affectionate, claws a little too sharp to be considered harmless. He tuts, shaking his head. 

“Master, you’re wasting away. You should really eat a little more.”

A protest balances on the very tip of your tongue, before you swallow it back down. Choking on all the words you refused to say. A bemused smile danced on Trey’s lips, before he lifted up the spoon. Tapping on your lips until you reluctantly opened your mouth. Letting him feed you, spooning rice and some kind of… meat into your mouth. Frowning, you chew. An odd, tough texture rolled around in your mouth. It wasn’t any meat you were familiar with, actually. Glamping it down, you give Trey a curious look. “What did you just feed me?”

A chuckle, a rather fox-like expression slipping slyly across his face.

“Do you really want to know, Master?”

A chill ran down your back, cold settling deep into the base of your spine. Blood freezing, goosebumps racing up both of your arms in turn. Shoulders tensing, you inch away from Trey ever so slightly. Only for your back to bump against Cater’s chest, your errant heartbeat thumping away.

You hear a laugh, as a weight pressed itself onto your shoulders. Cater’s arms, wrapping around you in a loose hug. His fingers dig into the flesh of your arms, holding you in place. He didn’t bother to sheath his claws, this time. They gleamed with a certain grim determination, edges as sharp as blades.

You could hear the grin in his voice, as Cater chimed in brightly.

“Do you like it? Both​ Trey and I put in ever so much effort to make sure it was super fresh!”

A pause, before he bubbled on:

“That creep by the station will never bother you again !”

You felt the bile rise up to your throat once more. The acidity clawing at the very back of your throat, stomach seizing upon itself. Tying itself into figure eights and fishermen knots. Lunging forward, you retch onto the ground. Throwing up whatever… flesh these two foxes saw fit to feed you. 

Trey makes a move first. Seizing you up the neck, thrusting you upright. Captured in his grip, all you could do was to heave, gagging on dry air. Cater stroked your back gingerly. Rubbing nauseatingly slow circles onto your back, in an attempt to pacify. Gently, Trey dabs at the beads of sweat sprouting on your brow, the spittle dripping from your lips. He does this ever so tenderly, you could almost believe he was concerned for you.

You could almost believe both of them had a heart. They looked so human. Flesh and bone. 

However, they were yokai.

 Human mortality wasn’t something they possessed. 

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: This was supposed to be posted on Halloween but oh well... I'm halfway thought my assignments so I finally finished this, first time writing for Trey though and hopefully he doesn't seem too ooc.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, poisoning.

The campus was filled with a mysterious and unsettling atmosphere, the school completely decked out to celebrate Halloween. And while his friends were out having fun and scaring each other, Trey was cooking up something special; an extremely sweet aroma wafting through the air.

On any other day those sweets would be just that, mere sweets. But the smile plastered on Trey's handsome face held a gleam of dangerous promise. A danger you were in without knowing.

Trey Clover, the trustworthy and charismatic one who always helps everyone with a smile, the same Trey who made you feel safe, who danced with you in the rain, who helped you study and always went out of his way to take care of you. This same Trey had an unshakable fixation, an unhealthy passion that burned in his heart.

Is this right? He thinks, his fingers tremble only for a second before he makes up his mind. And then he pours the love potion over the ganache and mixes harder, knowing how you couldn't resist them. He smiles when he remembers your face covered in icing and crumbs, you always devoured everything he gave you in seconds and he was proud of that.

You had no idea what he was planning for the night and by the time you suspected something it would be too late. When you suspected, if you suspected, Trey would already have control over your mind, over your heart, as was his right.

Only he could protect you, take care of you, as you deserved.

Black and orange candles illuminated the dark space, revealing a gloomy kitchen that was about to witness a terrible deed. Trey finishes the final touches on his sweets and lets them cool on the counter, listening with great fascination to the ticking hands of the clock. Every second closer to bringing you to him.

Trey was washing the dishes when you finally arrived, a light smile on your face and dressed like an angel, the white fluff of the feathers contrasting perfectly with your skin and the lipstick you used. A dreamy sigh escaped Trey's lips as he looked you up and down and you, laughing, spun around.

"Isn't it beautiful? Vil helped me choose the costume." You commented, seeming to analyze the costume he was wearing. Nodding after a few seconds.

"Uh, yes, it's beautiful. But any outfit looks great on you."

You smiled and thanked him for the compliment, your face becoming hot with embarrassment at the affectionate look he was sending your way. You looked at the dishes he was washing and asked. "Do you want help?"

Trey denied it. "There's something you could do for me, yes, eat those cupcakes. I made them especially for you." He pointed to the other bench.

If this were an anime you would be making heart eyes right now, a sweet smile appearing on your lips as soon as you spotted the sweets in the designated place. Oblivious to the danger lurking around you, you hugged Trey tightly.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You laughed.

If only you knew how much your sudden affection meant to Trey, a light blush taking over his cheeks as he watched you hold one of the cupcakes carefully, admiring the color, smelling the good smell, you took the first bite, the taste slightly bitter - different from normal, but you kept eating.

You had no reason to suspect him. The friendship you had built over the months made you let your guard down, ignoring the strange feeling that ran through your tongue and throat.

With each bite though, the poison infiltrated your body, spreading an intense, paralyzing cold. Your eyes widened in panic as you finally realized what was happening, but it was too late. You turned around quickly, dropping the cupcake, your hand raised towards Trey as if asking for his help, but he was smiling.

Trey was smiling.

The same sweet Trey you asked for help and told your deepest secrets, this Trey was smilling at your demise. The feeling of suffocation grew, bright spots dancing in your vision. The poisoned cupcakes had sealed your fate.

"Why?" You asked with the last of your strength.

Your heart raced, your senses began to cloud. Trey silenced any thought, any foolish and useless action you might try, pulling you into his chest, stroking your scalp as he rocked you from side to side.

"You always belonged to me, darling," Trey murmured as he moved closer. His voice taking on a possessive tone as he cupped your face with great care as if you were made of porcelain. "I have loved you since the day I first saw you. Now, you will be mine forever, in this life and the next, and in all others."

"I know, my love, I know." The whispered voice in your ear didn't ease your pain and fear, despite being the cause of it all, you still clung to his chest. You wanted him to make it stop or do something. "it hurts but everything will be fine in a couple of minutes."

And he was right.

Trey just kept holding you tight as you let out screams of pain and punched his chest, the same hands that poisoned you bringing a sudden comfort after several minutes had passed. You lifted your head from his chest and looked at him carefully, your memory of the events completely clouded.

As Halloween night progressed, you were entangled in the clutches of the man who was once your best and dearest friend, and the darkness that enveloped Trey Clover only grew more intense, ate him up inside, made him yearn for more. More of you, your hugs, your kisses.

With you in his arms, smiling, melting into the warmth and protection he emanated, Trey compared you to a doll. One that he would make a point of protecting and loving for his entire life.

[mikalims]

so i randomly asked some friends on discord "hmm... who in twst do you think likes to collect teeth" for no reason at all and they answered "trey" ... it gave me a fic idea so here you go

cw: yandere, implied captivity, obsession, slight gore, teeth collecting (like literally)

notes: gn! reader, fic inspired by saccharine by jazmin bean (a bop), this fic is messy asf

(𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄) 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄.

TREY swears he fell in love with you at first sight, the moment you made eye contact with him. it seems irrational, but he knows you're the one for him!

there are two scenarios:

ONE. you are in heartslabyul. he has hit the jackpot. oh he will spoil you with his sweets, and even use his unique magic to have his pastries taste to your liking.

or TWO. you're assigned in a different dorm, he'll just prepare a lunchbox for you, full of his treats! after all, he is exceptional in baking, so there'll be no way you won't like his gift.

however, he doesn't like it when you talk to other students :(( he has already given you enough, he's also a package of green flags too! (according to him). but!! he'll make an exception, you're allowed to talk to riddle (only for school matters). TREY may not look like it, but he's willing to spill some blood for you~

if anything has he developed a strangest obsession, there is one. he has some… weird fascination about your teeth. they look so perfectly neat, he thinks, even with the amount of pastries he has given you, you still manage to take care of your teeth!

he's just so obsessed with you, you keep occupying his mind all day! but—he thinks it's a bad thing, you have been living in his mind for too much!

sometimes, TREY watches you happily take a bite on his pastries, glancing at your teeth that were dirtied by sweet flavors. oh how he loved to add those in his secret tooth collection, maybe he'll get yours displayed, because he adores you so much!

oh, and remember what i said about others taking your time from him and he gets mad because of it so he might kill them? he may have collected their teeth also, after he either brutally killed them, or poisoned their treats. of course, no one knows about this particular hobby of his, but he is one tooth collector. some even have fresh blood with it. also he puts them in this weird jar that are just... full of teeth that he pulls out from his victims.

back to you! he gets internally conflicted, he wants you to be close to him but at the same time, he wants to stay away from you. TREY's mind is in shambles, he needs to cut you off from his life but you keep getting near to him! he swears, you're like a drug. he has to stop interacting with you, or else he'll just indulge with his obsessions more.

riddle noticed this, and told TREY that he was unusually too distracted to do his work, which was the latter's last thing he would want in his life. he's seen as the calm and composed one in his dorm, too :(

he had no one else to blame but you. how dare you enter his mind and heart effortlessly? he thinks you're too cute, too sweet for such a school that is full of people with twisted personalities.

he needs to act fast, or he'll get lost to these delusions. he might have to break you himself, before he could indulge in things called "love".

maybe one day when he confronts you, it's either he cages you in to be with him or he brutally murders you. either way, he'll still get your precious teeth as a collection, a remembrance of you for him. <3

© MIKALIMS.

[deceitful-darlings]

Pardon my intrusion! I'm not certain as to whether or not this counts as a request, but I was wondering which twst yanderes would be chillest with an Aroace darling. Idk, I just see an unfortunate lack of content for that sexuality and your content tends to be particularly enjoyable. (alfhlhsd can you tell I'm new to this Anon thing? Hope this was done properly)

Yup, this is a request, and that’s totally ok!

And as for which would be chill with an aroace darling...well, it depends what you define as chill. Naturally, all could potentially be platonic yanderes, but if we’re looking at non-platonic I would say:

Professor Trein

Lilia

Trey

Kalim

And possibly Rook and Silver

These characters can easily slip in to a more caretaker role for their darlings, even without the platonic aspect. Trein and Lilia are both old enough that they aren’t going to be too fussed about the sexual or romantic aspect of the relationship. Kalim is kinda a dunce, so for him he could have to possibility to just treat the relationship as if it were a deeper friendship, Silver is just... Silver. I don’t think he’d care too much as long as you were just there. Rook and Trey are kind of the ‘they may just about be able to keep their dicks in their pants but don’t hold your breath about it’ gang.

[twistedtalking]

○-------->Your Path to Another World<--------●

♤---->The Impersonator<----->She/her<------♡

●~~~~~~~~Makes your wildest dreams~~~~~~●

○~~~~~~~~~~~~And Darkest Nightmares ~~~~~~~~○

●<~~~~~~~~~~~~come true~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>●

----Welcome to Wonderland----

/Waiting list/

/characters/

/mutuals/

/anon/

/masterlist/

/rules/

Important: There are Bible verses after each fic post. If that makes you uncomfortable, please unfollow me.

Here's a post explaining why I add them.

[writingforatwistedworld]

A request...

Dunno if this has been done already but A self aware Azul, Trey, and Lilia reacting to the player saying they "had a bad day but seeing them made it much better".

Let me know if this is confusing and you're free to not answer of course

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsessive behavior, unhealthy behavior, mentions of blood, mentions of war, death, bad cringe humor bc I haven't written for a while

Trey Clover/ Azul Ashengrotto/Lilia Vanrouge-"Seeing you made my day better!"

Oh, are you alright?

The second you returned to them, Trey could tell that something was wrong with you

A bad day perhaps?

If he could talk to you he would sit you down to talk about what (or who) ruined your day (whilst secretly planning their demise but pshh)

But then you suddenly stare at the screen and drop something like that at him? Whew... I-I think he is swooning

He almost forgets that you are having a horrible time before all of this until he finally sees you having a strained expression once more before going off

Oh ok. This is fine. This is totally fine. Haha... TOTALLY FINE

Like, imagine my mans expression

He feels honored that you feel and think that way about him but at the same time...

Bro over here can't really help

He tries to be as present as possible after that

(Toatally not like a cat throwing itself on your lap for attention)

In his mind, the more present he is the better you feel

(Not like peeps play games to escape reality but sure, if Trey wants to see himself as your emotional aspirin then sure)

But perhaps his attention really helped, perhaps something good just happened that got you in a good mood

So when you finally said that seeing him made your day so much better it felt like the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds after a long storm

Well, luckily he didn't need to conspire with Draconia to get you here anymore

But then again, if what you said was true then him being with you would keep you happy all the time, right?

Oh what he does for his go-I mean his uncrowned ruler

This brings back a lot of dark memories for him

And I mean that literally

His memories of these days are filled with him sitting in a dark corner of his little pot

Only with the difference that for him his ray of light was food, for you it… is whatever this is

It does surprise him though

You, the high scholar, wisest of the wise, were more human than he imagined you to be

Well, to be fair, it was easy to imagine you as that unfeeling being that hovered over all of them

Day after day did the octopus see you do whatever you came to do and then go again

Although… you always made sure to check on him whilst having that faint smile on your face

How sweet. Doesn’t make him worry any less though

Until one day you finally tell him that seeing him made your day better

Wow… how is he supposed to react to that?

His inspiration for everything he does sees him in that light

This totally won’t get to his now. Naw. I have no idea what you are talking about

Continue to tell him that. Tell him how much his presence makes you happy

And if you should look in the direction of some unfortunate NPC that unknowingly made you laugh he will see red

Interesting, his cane looks a bit red as well. The handle area should be cleaned again… why is it so sticky?

Lilia is not amused

Sleep deprived, yes, but not amused

Oh why that? Well, this father decided to pray even more to you in order to cheer you up

Now, if you know anything about Lilia in this au then you also know how religious he is, so him praying even more? Uh… perhaps he gets two hours of sleep at best

You are his god so surely you hear his words, asking you why your expression is always so sad, so exhausted

STOP SHARPENING YOUR SWORD YOU OLD BAT THERE IS NO NEED TO START A HOLY WAR IN THE OVERSEERS NAME WTF MADE YOU EVEN THINK OF THAT SOLUTION??!

Anyways, if Lilia is not in a good mood, so is entire Diasomnia. He is more or less the dorms old and wise fairy grandmother who hands out advice like lollipops so when he is not in a good mood, so is nobody else

No matter what the local group of non-violent military trained guys do, they just can’t cheer up their usually oh so happy teacher and guide

Lilia reminds the NPCs of the dorm of a certain general they read about in the history books (but there is no way that could be Lilia)

Until one day he walks in like he is in a romance anime, looking up with sparkling eyes to the altar and thanking your statue for your favor

If this was any other dorm, he would have been send to the school therapist (oh yeah, they have a shrimp instead of that)

When asked by his son what happened Lilia just looks up, still with that weird look in his eyes, tells him that “I have finally been noticed by our grace”

Malleus is telling Sebek in the meantime to call for a doctor because it seems like their general just lost his last few marbles

What really happened was Lilia heads down dangling from who knows where, perhaps the cafeteria chandelier, and asking himself what could have made you so sullen the last few days

Until suddenly you zipped in, looked at him (probably once up to his knees and then down to his head whilst saying “Mhm. Looks good.”) and were like “Seeing you made my day better.”

That was the moment when Lilia lost his grip on the metal and fell face-first, thankfully it was already late so no one was present but if I got a coin every time he fell like that I would have one, which tells us how rarely that happens

How about you go to whatever NPCs that govern the other countries and warn them that there is a high low-key mad general who would start would annihilation if you so much as feel slightly sluggish

You know those people who need to hear compliments constantly so they don't go bananas? Yeah

Whoops. Seems like you complimented the uniform of Octavinelles uniforms after seeing one of their NPCs. Wonder what happened to that guy. He isn't attending his classes anymore, that's for sure

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Yandere Trey Headcannon

This is kinda like all those yandere Vil stories where he dresses the reader up and stuff like that.

But with Trey,

He fucking brushes your teeth for you.

Like,

Holds you mouth open, holding you still, brushes your teeth.

Is that a weird headcannon?

Maybe.

But I can't stop thinking about it.

[mellowwillowy]

"Stop the wedding!!"

So you get to see NRC food fighting RSA in the end lol Yan! NRC vs Yan! RSA x GN Isekai'd Player (Self-aware)

All the people inside the cafeteria turned their attention to you, an isekai'd player.

"(Name)!!" Idia beamed in tears, finally someone saving him! ... wait, someone? Oh no no no no! You are not just 'someone'!! Why did he even bother troubling you to this extent? He should have just kissed the bride!!!

"Make it right in time, you got me, Ace?" "Thank you for kicking me like a barrel toward the ghosts, pal," Ace replied dejectedly but posed no annoyance at all.

"Potato, since when do you have the funds to get yourself such a nice suit?" Vil questioned as he inspected your overall. The makeup and hairdo were not done to the utmost perfection but he can let it slide because anything on you equals absolute beauty.

"Oh, this? So you are smart enough to realize Crowley won't cover MY suit! I mean, he was trying teeth and nails to not let me join Ace and Co!"

"At least he does something right for the first time," Leona added. "White suits you though I thought you'd surely go with Black as usual?" Trey cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"Look, this is what Neige lent me. And all his attires are almost pristine white! I'm telling ya'!" At that statement, you saw Vil twitch despite not being able to move, he must have been very pissed at the mention of Neige's name alone.

"Originally I planned on taking Cheny'a's but I realized how eccentric his taste is so I decided to go with Neige. The RSA students are kind enough to assist Neige in tailoring it to my size too! Got them right in time before Crowley could shoo me!"

"Dude, even the RSA knows how to respect them, I don't know if I should be angry or nah but it certainly leaves a bad aftertaste seeing them wearing what RSA makes for them." Cater whispers something to the person next to him, inaudible to your ears.

"What do you say if we steal the suit and then burn it down in front of them after we are done here? I'd like to give them a nice thank you hug too while we are at it." "And we should leave them some of my... flowers collection too. This alone should be enough to show our gratitude right?"

"I'd say we should try giving them a proper form of token of gratitude too, how about Master Lilia's cooking?" Sebek added with a grin, he had his fair share of Lilia's cooking to the point he'd like to share it with the others.

"Oh? Then I'd have to make sure to add extra 'love' into it." He replied, this time intending to poison people so its horrifying taste was multiplied at natural without him realizing it.

"Wait, why would we even bother giving them a handmade cooki-" Jack was immediately silenced by Cater's eerie smile. He had his fair share and he knew they meant nothing well from it at all.

"Hey Ace, do something! Stop throwing all your work on prefect!" Deuce yelled by the sideline, ready to chew his ears off.

"I agree, you shouldn't let someone magic-less handle this handful situation alone, get a hold of yourself right now will you, Ace?" Azul scowled and started to usher Ace into work.

"Dude! Now all of you are cornering me?" "You haven't finished, Ace?!"

And Riddle's voice was all it took to make Ace cowered like a puppy. Rook shook his head in disappointment, this had taken way longer than the original gameplay.

"Hurry! We should wrap things up as though we are changing a dirty tablecloth into a new one!" Epel yelled out rather... unique lines. Was he trying to be as poetic as Rook? If anything, both Rook and Vil said nothing regarding this.

"Riiiiighhhhtttt, I'm kinda checked out now, to be honest." Idia's eyes immediately widened, not you too?!

Just before the other could chant another "Smooch the bride", you immediately lunged toward the bride. All those gym class training paid off! Basically, this and that until the ghost inflated.

And instead of Rook ordering you and Epel around, you took the steering wheel before anyone could. "Move yer' ass you glorified wood logs! Move move move!"

The lucky person is the person who gets to feel you dragging them. Absolute win!

--

"Urgh, I'm so gonna have phasmophobia now." Idia rolled his eyes as the ghosts departed but to be honest? He was happy to see you barging into the cafeteria like a knight in shining armor for him! (It was mostly the others fighting lol)

Idia was taken by surprise the moment your hand smacked his back. "Would you look at it, the star of the show, a handsome groom adorned in black! You look positively breathtaking, senior Idia."

"Eep-! Oh no, they have graced me with their words that are enough to deafen me! What should I do? How should I show them just how grateful I am to be even considered by them???"

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you really well." "Well, brother said that-" "N-n-no! Nothing! I uh... am thankful... for your assistance." He answered bashfully, his hair tip turned into a shade of pink.

"Now now potato, it's time to change, wearing that must have been uncomfortable right?" Vil immediately pulled you away from the pink introvert. "No...? Neige said that it's meant to be comfortable and it's true!" "Well, we have something even wayyyy more comfortable for you, shrimpy! Come on now, let's take it off and dress you up in something else!"

--

Lilia was leading everyone with a basket of something, a speaker in one hand and Neige's suit in the other hand, "Hey you RSA whippersnappers! Get down!"

The head mage was coincidentally away that day and it allowed the NRC students to lead a protest in front of the academy's gate.

Lilia threw the white suit onto the ground while Leona whistled, signaling Rook to shoot an arrow of fire toward it like an Olympic grand opening. (What a duo.)

"Yeah! Eat this you good for nothing!" Cater and Ruggie immediately took out the pie from Lilia's basket and threw it right onto the students' face. Kalim was generous enough to sponsor lots of baking materials for Lilia with Jamil assisting with the baking. It was badly burnt but still hard as a rock.

Cheny'a was careful enough to avoid Trey and Riddle while Vil was feeling rather generous in feeding Neige~ Oh, and Malleus is always bullseye in his shots, hitting everyone down in no time. He was pretty pissed (sulking) that he was not invited to join your fun. Silver was not being merciful too, he didn't fall asleep at all during this whole thing!.

Rollo was feeling rather grateful but also sad that you did not come to him to ask for his help :( And Crowley just watched everything from the sidelines while praying that nothing bad will be sent to him after this. Well, he's happy with how bright his students are.

[simpingseafood]

I was inspired by a recent visit to the dentist…

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him...

Summary: Yandere Heartslaybul boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you years later.

CW: Yandere, baby trapping through adoption, kidnapping, allusions to past abuse, drugging, injury to reader (Cater's part), manipulation

Savanaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own. 

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

Your son's hair was as red as his "father's". He was the spitting image of him. He was only five,  yet the resemblance was so strong, there were moments where you would be filled with terror. But then you'd see your eyes staring back at you, and you'd calm down.

Despite the resemblance, he was a sweet, innocent thing. You didn't even think he was capable of anger. So easy going. So mellow. Sevens, you loved your boy.

But that sweet nature could cause trouble sometimes.

You were scrolling through your phone, trying to find an odd job so that you could pay the rent. Sunset Savannah rent was low, but still. When you were trying to stay off the grid, and moved every couple months, money was hard to come by.

Your son entered the room, smiling brightly.

"There's a man at the door who wants to talk to you. He says it's important."

"Baby, I told you not to open the door without me. It's dangerous." And also inconvenient. You'd rather your landlord not know you were home.

"I'm sorry," his lower lip quivered, and you quickly wrapped him in a hug.

"It's alright, love, just don't do it again. Stay here, I'll go talk to him."

You left him on the sofa. And went to the door that your son had left open. You put on a strained smile, and prepared to greet your landlord.

"Sorry for the wait-" you cut yourself off as icy terror filled your veins. Your eyes met Riddles, and you prepared for the worst. The shouting. The beheading. And if he was in his worst mood, his staff would come into play. Which, considering you'd escaped him for five years, he was definitely in a worse mood.

You'd been so careful! Had you gotten sloppy? Complacent? You didn't think you had. You knew Riddle had the money to pursue you, but you had hoped that since you had escaped the country, you would be past his sphere of influence.

You continued to stare, gritting your teeth for what was to come, but you were immediately shocked as he released a sob, and wrapped his arms around you, his tears soaking your shirt.

"I thought I'd lost you forever," he whispered, his grip tightening so much that you thought he was trying to break your ribs.

"Please don't cry, it's okay!" 

Oh, your sweet boy. Your poor sweet baby boy.

Riddle pulled away, and crouched to your son's level.

"I'm your father."

Your son's eyes widened. You'd tried to make the idea of two parents a foreign concept, but children had a way of talking. So the idea that he had a second parent, who came for him, made his eyes sparkle in delight.

Riddle scooped him up in his arms, and turned to go.

"Let's go home," he whispered, and the final piece of hope you'd been sustaining finally died.

You'd gotten forgetful. 

A large family like the Clover's, all of whom had chocolate centers, would have a large network of acquaintance's.

Even out here, in the middle of the countryside, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

As you were realizing now. All it would take was one person to recognize the "oldest Clover's missing spouse" and then it would be over. 

And your son…he looked like a Clover, even if he wasn't one biologically. One peek at him, it would be over, again.

As you realized now that you'd clearly fallen into a trap.

Your new neighbor had invited you and your son for tea. And you were so tired. So tired of running, of not having roots, that you had agreed. What could go wrong with a tea party?

Everything.

You entered the room, and there he was, already seated at the table. Giving you a very disappointed look.

"Thank you, Meredith. Can we have a moment alone?"

Your son wasn't old. But a ten year old like him was smart enough to see the resemblance between himself and the man before him. Even if it was a coincidence.

You had intended to tell him the truth about his "father" in a year or two.

But now he'd never believe you. With the warm smile on Trey's face as he opened his arms, your son would never believe the relationship was built on manipulation and perfectly hidden drugs. Someone with a smile as warm as Trey's would never do anything like that.

Your son ran into his arms, happily explaining about how happy he was to finally meet "daddy".

Meanwhile, Trey stared at you, his eyes cold as he held your son tighter. 

"Y/N," he finally said, his voice firm in the way that told you he was out of patience. "Drink your tea."

You stared at the pretty porcelain cup that sat waiting on the table. You had guesses of what would happen if you drank it. It would all be over. Ten years of hiding for nothing. But he had your son. It wasn't like you could go anywhere.

Your feet felt like they were weighed down with concrete blocks as you walked over to the cup, sat, and brought it to your lips with trembling fingers.

The black invading your vision was almost immediate, and you heard Trey explaining to your son, "An evil man stole you both from me. Their medicine will make them sleepy, but when they wake up we can finally be a family."

You didn't even have a phone. You changed your hair every few months. You wore a mask in public. Because you knew the second a photo of you made its way onto the internet, it would be over.

Your son had wanted a phone when he was about ten. And you'd been able to push it off until he reached thirteen, when you'd say him down and told him about the man who wanted to be his father. 

He was young, but when he heard how this man hurt you, and took you away from the people you loved, he understood quickly. 

Your boy was smart. And he was a responsible kid. So he never asked for a phone again.

He was fifteen  now. He was a smart boy, and very protective over you. He always joked that if he and Cater were ever in the same room, he'd punch him in the stomach. 

The two of you were at the store, getting groceries. You saw a flash of ginger hair out of the corner of your eye, but told yourself it was just your son's hair. The second and third ginger flashes were harder to ignore.

You shared a look with your son, and made a rush to the exit.

...Unfortunately, running straight into a crowd of ginger hair. Multiple Caters pinned you both down, pressing rags to your mouths, making you sleep.

When you woke up, you found yourself tied to a chair in a dark room.

"You're up."

His voice was far more bitter than you were used to, but you'd recognize it anywhere.

Cater stood from the corner he was seated in, and made his way over to you. A loud crack filled the room, and you didn't quite realize what had happened until your cheek began to sting, and you met his furious eyes as he shook with rage.

No matter what was wrong with your relationship, he had never laid a hand on you.  

"You promised me!" He screamed. "You promised I wouldn't have to be alone anymore!"

Another crack filled the room, and your cheek began to feel numb.

"We were supposed to be a family, Y/N!  The three of us, together! And you turned him against me!"

He raised his hand to slap you again, but froze with a sob. He collapsed burying his face in your lap as he sobbed. 

"Why? Why do you both hate me? Am I not good enough?" He cried, his voice cracking and choking as he spoke. "I'll be better! I'll be whoever you need me to be!"

You could only imagine how the reunion with your son had gone if he was like this already. You hoped he was behaving, so the both of you could reunite and figure out how to escape.

But if the multiple pairs of emerald eyes watching Cater sob in your lap were anything to go by, you were never going to be alone ever again.

Once you'd crossed the border of the country, you hadn't expected to ever run into Ace again. It wasn't that he was poor, per say, it was just that he wouldn't have the means to search for you forever. Private investigators were expensive. And it wasn't like he actually cared. 

At least that's how it felt. After one day of having your son, he admitted he was already bored, he just wanted to tie you to him. And he had told you every day of your relationship that he you were only together because he felt bad that you would never have anyone else who cares about you.

The longer you were away from him, the more your brain cleared, the more you realized that he probably did care. Quite a lot. But it was the tactic he used to make you dependent on him.

You were embarrassed by how well it had worked….

Your son was college aged now. He had received an invitation to NRC, but had turned it down in favor of protecting you. You were so grateful, and had worked with a friend who knew your situation to get him into a university without being able to tie it back to you.

You currently lived alone in your apartment. This evening, you were reading a book that your son had recommended, as you ate a basic dinner. There was a knock on the door, and you gently put your bookmark in.

You opened the door to three officers…one of them you unfortunately recognized.

"Deuce," you pleaded, and he looked everywhere but you.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I really am," he cleared his throat, and in his official voice. "Y/N Trappola. You have been missing for nineteen years. You must come with me for questioning."

There would be no questioning. He'd take you back, and drop you off with Ace. The wording was just in case one of your neighbors came to see what was going on.

The trip was long. And Deuce had tried to get you to tell him where your boy was. A sign that Ace actually cares, despite his cruel words. 

He'd eventually dug through your phone, and figured out who he was based on your messages back and forth. He'd called him, and given him an address to come meet you at.

"Remember when you were my friend too?" You spat at Deuce. It hurt him, you could tell, but you wanted it to hurt as much as you would inevitably hurt once you were back with Ace.

You happened to both arrive at the house at the same time. Your son looked between you and, at least to him, the unknown officer, but kept his mouth shut. 

The three of you walked up to the door together in silence. Deuce knocked on the door, and it was only a moment before he opened it.

He laughed hysterically. "Oh seven, you really found them! I can't believe you actually did it!"

He grinned at your son.

"Hah! You look just like your old man."

Your son growled. "You're not my old man."

"Hee hee, you're feisty like me too!" Ace grinned. Then he turned to you, affecting a look that was saying 'I'm not mad just disappointed'.

"Y/N," he said, his tone a threat in itself. "I'm sure you know how upset I am with you. How are you gonna make it up to me?"

Your son pulled his pen, but Ace was faster, throwing a painless stun spell at him.

He shook his head in mock disappointment.

"You really raised him all wrong, didn't you Y/N? Oh well, I guess I don't mind fixing both of you."

You'd thought once you crossed the border, you'd be safe. You hadn't realized that Deuce would have made friends in his time as an officer, and could use those connections to find you.

To your credit, you'd made it awhile before his investigator colleague had found the two of you.

But you'd hoped you could hide forever. Five years felt like nothing.

You'd paid your neighbor to watch your son while you went out for groceries, and were startled to see her not with him.

"Hm? Oh, his father relieved me of duty," she laughed, until she saw the distress on your face.

"Y/N?" 

You ran to your apartment, practically busting the door down. You found Deuce sitting with your sleeping son, staring at him as though he would disappear if he looked away.

"Hey Y/N," he hummed, still not looking at you. "What did I do wrong?"

The question floored you. It was on brand. He never knew what he was doing wrong with your relationship. Which made it easy for you to forgive him early on. But you couldn't ignore how he was hurting you forever.

"Deuce. Give him to me."

You slowly approached him like you'd approach a wild dog.

"Was it something I said?" He looked up at you with heartbroken eyes. "I didn't mean to. I promise I'll be better."

He stood up, and approached you.

"Come home, Y/N. We can start over."

You couldn't risk triggering his delinquent mode while he was holding your sleeping son. And it wasn't like you could hide again, not without leaving the sleeping angel behind.

And you didn't doubt that this time he'd do whatever was in his power to catch you if you ran.

"Give me my son," you whispered.

"Our son," he said firmly, and you froze, breathing deeply to try and calm him down.

"Our son," you repeated softly. You held out your hands, and he scrutinized you with a cold look.

"No. I'll hold on to him," he said, shifting away from you. "I just can't trust you anymore."

Normally, you'd have snapped at him that you could never trust him. But he had the advantage.

"Please, Deucey," you simpered, hoping his affection for you could still cloud his judgment.

"I'll think about it when we get home," he said with a soft smile. He stood up, and walked over to you, nuzzling your noses together. 

"C'mon,Y/N, let's go home," he calmly walked out with your son in his arms. What else could you do but follow?

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Meg! Reader (Meg from Disneys Hercules) with the twst boys? Just her being sassy and refusing them because of how her last relationship ended.

Megara Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Burned by love before and quick with a comeback, your beauty and affection is tauntingly out of reach of all. But don’t forget you’re poor soul isn’t yours anymore however it is the property of the lord of the Underworld…who in this world apparently no longer exists. It makes for an awkward voice in your ear.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Kidding? Babe, I’m Hades the one and only and I’m not going anywhere.”

Idia Shroud

Somehow keeps ending up in the most lucky leecher situations with you

Its almost like some ancient deity is stepping in to give him some ‘extra help’

“I didn’t call for a summons-assists! Please!”

He’ll whine about it 

But he loves it more than anything

When is he going to get a chance to crop a feel 

Or somehow be trapped in a tight closet with you

Someone must be smiling down more like up at on him

Maybe that’s who he can thank for those rival npc’s dying in odd monster attacks

Trey Clover

“Hey (Y/n), what are you doing here?”

“What’s it matter to you, hotshot?”

“Well I just wanted to check in on you, see what you thought of this cake I’ve made.”

He always appears out of nowhere 

Foiling whatever plans Hades has you going on

You’re captor seems to like him though

Especially after that one flirt’s untimely end with food poisoning

“I like the guy! Burns like an invisible fire!”