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ceruleancattail · 8 hours

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Some form of ghost/spirit yandere chenya with a Darling that is too broke and stubborn to move

Smile

Ghost Che’nya x reader

Tw: yandere, violence

You’ve grown used to the chills racing down your neck.

With enough time, you hope you get used to the wanton banging and shrill screams from your kitchen as well. He seemed have a knack of choosing the cabinets with most rusty hinges, if the ghoulish screeches that echo from your kitchen was any indicator.

Sighing, you get up from your chair for the fifth time today, trudging towards the noise. Clutching at your mug, you swing it randomly in the air, muttering a few colourful expletives with every swing.

The noise subsided for a brief moment, before picking up again, so much louder than before. Now, your pots and pans rattle within the dish rack, a disharmonious chorus of chaos. It almost seems as if the spirit in your house was laughing at your feeble attempts to stop it. There was definitely a malicious quality to the cackle of those plates.

Defeated, you set down your mug into the sink. You stare at the plates, frowning.

“You better not break any of those.”

One plate floats up in response, dipping towards the ground threateningly. You narrow your eyes, arms akimbo. Staring daggers at the plate until it feebly floats back into the rack, sliding right in place. Blinking in surprise, you stand there in disbelief.

“Well. That’s unexpected of you. Thanks.”

Pursing your lips, your gaze flickers around. Trying to spot any signs of the paranormal being that seemed rather intent on haunting your house. People always illustrate ghosts as glowing, translucent creatures that float around the place, but you haven’t managed to catch a glimpse of this mysterious stranger.

You’ve only figured out that he was male, if only by the insufferable way he seems very fond of flipping the toilet seat lid up in the middle of the night. Or maybe he was doing that just to piss you off. Who knows?

“D’ya want anything? I’ll make an exception, just for today.”

You lean onto the counter, the very tips of your lips curved up into a small smile.

“Since you were such a good boy.”

At those words, everything in your kitchen freezes on the spot. As if you stunned him into silence. Laughing softly, you allow yourself one self-satisfied smirk. Well, that shut him up.

For a moment, there was nothing but the echo mimicking your faded laughter. The house was quiet, for once. You had to do a double-take to really let that fact sink in. It hasn’t been this quiet since… well, since you moved in.

Come to think of it, you moved in with a roommate. A roommate who seemed rather determined to get a little closer than just being friends, actually. They would do sweet little things for you, flowers, and little gifts passed to you on the sly.

Yet their flowers always seemed to wilt within a day, and their gifts always seem to vanish the moment you left them aside. At first, that was all that happened at first. Then, the hauntings started.

Your roommate’s clothes were thrown out of the house. Ripped apart and kicked around in the dirt. They were dropped outside the door, nothing more tattered rags by the time your roommate got home. Their door always seemed to somehow loosen its own hinges, falling to the ground with a deafening crash the very moment anyone touched it slightly. Their files deleted and wiped off their laptop, even when your roommate swore up and down that they saved it last night, twice even.

The last straw came when your roommate started seeing “him” in their dreams. Sinister ember eyes, with irises bleeding and spreading around his pupils in hypnotic circles. Curling around over and over again, a sinister cycle. He would lean over their face when they were sleeping, digging his heel deep into their chest, grinding down. As if he was trying to cave your roommate’s chest in.

They moved out a day after. The last things your roommate said to you wasn’t even a goodbye. It was a pair of hands gripping yours, fingers frozen with a deathly chill. It was pure fear in their eyes. It was a pained whisper, hissed from their tongue:

“Beware that smile.”

Those words haunt your mind, even now. Unfortunately, you’ve never encountered that smile, or whatever your roommate was so afraid of. The spirit in your house seems content with causing ruckus invisibly, fortunately.

Although the chills racing down your skin get worse every day. It almost feels like fingers, gently tracing the curve of your arms, slipping down into the bare nape of your neck. Poking and prodding at you at random intervals, almost like a cat toying with its prey.

Testing to see just how far it can go before you break.

Something cold pokes into your cheek, pinching it ever so lightly. You turn towards the pain, swatting at mid air. A faint chuckle echoes softly through the room, before you catch the briefest glimpse of purple darting out of the kitchen.

The next thing you knew, your television’s on, flipping through the channels by itself. Shaking your head, you grab a packet of chips before walking towards your couch, plopping down onto your cushions. The couch shifts towards the side ever so slightly, the weigh of someone else pressing into its plushy surface.

Your wonderful invisible “friend”, you assume. Stretching forward, you reach for the remote, only for it to slide away from your grasp ever so slyly. It inches towards the table’s edge ever so slowly, one push at the time. You groan in exasperation:

“No. No…”

Before the remote falls, clattering towards the ground. The television screen goes pitch black, at that very moment, the impact of the fall somehow turned off the television. Grumbling silently to yourself, you bend down to pick the remote up.

Only to catch a glimpse of something moving , in the television screen. A reflection, of a man hovering right above you. Lounging on thin air, swaying from side to side. Eyes staring down at you, narrowed with a sadistic sort of amusement. He bats at your hair, twirling loose strand around his little finger, before lowering his head down and kissing it softly.

You froze, staring at the reflection in the television. Staring in shock? In suspense? In satisfaction of finally catching a glimpse of the entity that haunted you so?

None of that mattered, not when those ember irises met your reflection’s gaze. Not when his lips slowly curved upwards into a sinister, crooked grin. Fangs are sharp as razors bared in a glittering smile, a smile simply oozing with sadism.

Beware that smile.

Your roommate’s words play in your head once more. You could still hear the tremble, in their voice.

Beware that smile.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #che’nya #che’nya x reader #yandere che’nya #yandere che’nya x reader #Aruchēmi Aruchēmievichi Pinkā #yandere Aruchēmi Aruchēmievichi Pinkā #yandere Aruchēmi Aruchēmievichi Pinkā x reader #Aruchēmi Aruchēmievichi Pinkā x reader #protection potion♦️#you call tell what is my worst nightmare from this actually #file unsaved? NOOOOOOO-

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jamil-s-wifey · 2 years

Text

🧿MASTERLIST🧿

⛈️ - angst

🌤️ - fluff

🌧️ - smut

☁️ - Crack fic

🌨️ - character x character

HEARTSLABYUL

ALL:

Pining Headcanons🌤️

👑Riddle Rosehearts👑

♥️Ace Trappola♥️

♠️Deuce Spade♠️

♦️Cater Diamond♦️

♣️Trey Clover♣️

SAVANNACLAW

ALL:

S/O asks to be bred 🌧️

🦁Leona Kingscholar🦁

Leona goes blind protecting his s/o ⛈️🌤️

Leona with a praise kink 🌧️ Leona's S/O gets lost in the palace 🌤️☁️

🍩Ruggie Bucchi🍩

🐺Jack Howl🐺

OCTAVINELLE

ALL:

🐙Azul Ashengrotto🐙

🍄Jade Leech🍄

🦐Floyd Leech🦐

SCARABIA

ALL:

🐍Jamil Viper🐍

Jamil gets sick, gets an s/o as well🌤️🌧️ Jamil has a nightmare, goes to his S/O, fluff ensues 🌤️

🎉Kalim Al-Asim🎉

POMEFIORE

ALL:

🦚Vil Schoenheit🦚

🏹Rook Hunt🏹

🍎Epel Felmier🍎

IGNIHYDE

ALL:

💠Idia Shroud💠

DIASOMNIA

ALL:

🐲Malleus Draconia🐲

🦇Lilia Vanrouge🦇

🐊Sebek Zigvolt🐊

🗡️Silver🗡️

STAFF

ALL:

🎭Dire Crowley🎭

🥀Divus Crewel 🥀

💀Sam💀

🏈Ashton Vargas🏈

⏳Mozus Trein⏳ CHARACTER X CHARACTER:

OT3 Basketball club poly dating hcs 🌧️-ish🌨️

DORM/VICE DORM LEADERS:

Dorm Leaders Dorm leaders with a crush, who's drunk a love potion 🌤️ Vice Dorm Leaders

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mairen-marionette · 2 years

Note

♦️ for billiam TFTSMP :)?

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

For hobbies:

- He grows herbs and other plants, partly for practical reasons but also to have something to do. Some of these plants end up as teas or in potions, other times they're just there because they were pretty or unusual. He also has a small but decent farm of netherwart, mushrooms, and some nether-specific plants in the basement. The man makes a lot of potions, even ones that are not listed in common recipe books (example: water resistance potions, for Butler's sake- just because humans have no use for them doesn't mean they aren't useful. And just because it's not in the standard recipes doesn't mean it does not exist.)

- He reads a lot, spends a lot of time in the library and tries to get new books whenever possible. He's also multilingual, so that helps in finding new things to read. He can spend hours upon hours researching something, days and weeks even, and often reads before retiring for the night. More often than not, there's a book on his bedside table.

- He writes things down at night in a book he hides somewhere, recordings of his day mostly, as well as notes on the Egg. He also has a whole book dedicated to notes, observations, and sketches of the Egg.

- He's also very good with a crossbow and makes it a habit to practice semi-often, especially if certain people he knows happen to be in the area. Gotta remind the people who don't like you that you are, in fact, a very good shot.

- ...there aren't many Piglins in the local Nether who speak English, let alone speak to or interact with him aside from trading with him, avoiding him entirely, and occasionally helping him out if he runs into difficulty, but there are a few young ones who he's managed to befriend somewhat and teach English to. In return, they teach him Piglish. He tries to visit the Nether at least once a month as a result.

The Nether Piglins's views on Billiam and people like him are basically "you're enough like one of us that we will acknowledge and protect you to an extent, but we don't trust you, not fully." If this view is different in other places in the Nether, Billiam has not yet found them. It's bad enough not being fully accepted by humans, that's one thing, but he did at one point hope that maybe he'd have better luck with Piglins. At least the young ones like him, he has that at least.

For quirks:

- One thing he does is subconsciously keep track of small children. Maybe it's a Piglin thing, maybe it has to do with being made to babysit his little cousins when he was younger, he really does not know. All he knows is that if there's a small child around, he's going to be aware of them and if something were to happen to that child, he'll know and know fairly quickly, too.

In fact, there was actually an incident involving an attempted kidnapping of a potential business partner's children for ransom a few years back, and the only reason anyone knew what had just happened was because Billiam noticed how suddenly quiet it had become in the background, had a bad feeling, decided to go and check with said bemused business partner trailing after him, and let's just say that things did not end well for said would-be kidnapper and that business partner was very shaken by the incident and very relieved that his children were okay.

- This may be less of a quirk and more of a habit, but he makes sure to keep a Totem of Undying on his person at almost all times, as well as splash potions of healing, regen, strength, and fire resistance. In recent years, he's included water res potions in the mix as well.

- He moves around a lot when happy or excited, and if alone or with someone he's comfortable with, will actually let himself make some of the same sounds Piglins do. It can also happen on accident as well, especially if he's caught off guard, and he's always embarrassed whenever that happens to say the least of it. Let's just say that in the past, when he was a lot younger, displaying those kinds of traits was... it didn't go well for him. He's gotten more comfortable now, though, with age and distance away from his past. It's still hard though, even after all these years.

- He's almost always wearing some form of gold on him and will gift gold in some form those he considers close to him. He can handle soulfire lamps just fine, but open flames are... he can handle them, but he can hear why most Piglins stay away from it. Still makes him uneasy, gives him gooseflesh. He's also fine around zombified piglins, even feels some form of kinship with them (he's not accepted by other Piglins either, not really), though he can smell the rot in them and understands why Piglins stay away from the poor things, mostly harmless though they are. He may not be affected by the Rot, but full Piglins are not as fortunate.

- He absently touches his neck when speaking of certain topics, namely whenever questions about his past crop up or something happens to bring up those memories for him. It's one of his first instincts to protect his neck, and also protect Butler, assuming he's nearby. He did the same thing for Hubert, when he was still with them. He and Moon don't talk about Hubert.

And that's some of the things I've got so far for him.

#tales from the smp #tftsmp #sir billiam #Thanks for the ask!#sorry that this took a bit #tales from the smp headcanons #ranvwoop

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avashnea · 4 years

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Strengths and Flaws:

Silvairre Merthelin- Machinist/ ex-Rogue

- bold what applies

❌ Flaws-

♦️ Strengths-

🎨 Skills and hobbies

Tagged by: @yemyfuhai

Tagging @anjastasia @hoth-and-cold @cavalier-life @darkshadeless @mossygator

#ffxiv #ffxiv machinist #elezen

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ceruleancattail · 2 days

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Sorry to bother. I remember your butler series a while back and I was wondering if there was a one shot of the yandere octrio eating their masters soul? I remember reading it but can't seem to find it. Either way love your butler series.

Oh? That’s not mine, sorry!

I don’t recall writing anything of the sort. But it does sound like something I would write, not going to lie…

Thank you for reading my butler series!!!! Now, having them eat souls is an interesting concept, if we’re going to go the Black Butler route, where the reader makes a contract with a demon and makes him a butler… it would be interesting to see what happens when the contract’s fulfilled, and the master’s soul is forfeited.

Tw: gore, I’m very morbid, suggestive

Will it be a messy affair? Blood and guts, a beast let out of his cage? Claws digging deep into your back, tearing apart your skin and your flesh. Yet for all the frenzied hunger your butler seems to be struck with, there’s a certain affection in the way Floyd stares into your teary eyes, a gentleness in the way he strokes your cheek with his hooked finger, smearing your very own blood on your cheek.

Dying it a crimson red, brighter then any blush. Great seven , ya sure look good all red like that. The adorable lil’ blushing spouse right before the altar.

Floyd just can’t wait to sink his teeth into you.

Or would it be a slow, sensual affair? Poking and prodding, nipping at your nape and slowly letting the blood leak out. Jade almost seems like a vampire straight out from a dusty old novel, lapping away languidly. For a moment, you could pretend he was just some cat, before his fangs sink into your shoulder, ripping your flesh to the bone. Forgive him, he got carried away Master… oh, that’s right. The contract’s ended. Oh well, maybe he’ll let you have a taste, if you’re well behaved.

Pressing his lips against yours, slipping his bloodstained tongue into your mouth. Flooding your senses with that sickeningly sweet, tangy metallic liquid. Gods, he’s grinning away, a sadistic grin that sends shivers racing down your spine. Just how long has he been waiting, just for a taste of you?

You’ll let Jade savour you whole, won’t you?

Perhaps it would even be gentle. Azul holds you tenderly, softly even. Nuzzling up right beside your neck, breathing in that tantalising scent of your soul. His hand rests over your heart, feeling it beat and throb under his touch, humming softly along to the rhythm. He waits until you sink into his warmth, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly… before he pounces. Taking a nibble out of the nape of your neck, watching you gasp and shudder.

Azul’s silent for a while, marvelling the way your soul just seems to melt on his tongue. Goodness, it’s as if you were made for him to devour, the way you taste ever so enchanting…. Azul meant to take his time, to savour you slowly, but he just can’t stop himself for wanting more, more, more- He’s reaching for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You were just simply made for him, weren’t you, master?

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #Azul ashengrotto #Floyd leech #protection potion♦️

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ceruleancattail · 7 days

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Ok we all know the horror of being trapped in Malleus’s handcrafted world. Sure, it’s terrifying when you remember who you were, but what if you didn’t?

What if that was all you ever knew?

TW: Yandere

Your day starts with the birds singing, from the castle’s windows. The same old song, over and over again.

Oh, will they ever sing a different tune?

Opening your eyes slowly, you blink away the last remains of sleepiness from your body. Sliding out of your finely woven blankets of linen and cotton, your feet sink into the plush of an emerald green carpet.

Soft. Like most things in your room were.

A comfortable place, everything gentle to the touch. From pillows that feel like clouds under your head to clothes to the thick carpet lining every inch of your room, to the elegant clothes that adorn your form perfectly, everything was perfect. As if it was specially tailored for you.

After you cleansed yourself in the rather lavishly decorated bathroom, your hands fumbled around in your wardrobe. Closing around a set of clothes that were your favourite colours. They fit you like a glove, the material somehow both warm and breathable at the very same time. How odd… but then again, you didn’t think about it much. It just was how things were.

Nothing was ever too hot nor too cold. Nothing could ever hurt you here. It’s almost like a dream, honestly…

Slipping on your shoes, you threw open the door to your room. Only to smack it straight into someone’s face. You heard a thud, followed by a dull grunt. Muttering your apologies, you peek around the other side of the door sheepishly. Only to meet with the mesmerising emerald eyes of the master of this castle, Malleus Draconia.

Or as you like to call him, Hornton. A privilege granted to you by him himself, on the account of being old friends. Both of you had met, a long time ago. To be completely honest, you don’t remember a lot of the details. How did you two meet again?

Oh well. That doesn’t matter right now. You immediately rush out, hands cupping his face as gently as you could. Tilting his head from the left to the right, looking at him in concern. Apologises and worry fusing together in stammers and stutters.

Stunned, all Malleus could do was to stand stock still and stare. Before he broke into laughter, chuckling softly. He leans down a little, allowing you easier access to his face. As you’re fussing over him, Malleus’s eyes are flickering over your face. Observing every little detail, analysing you like a fine piece of art.

There’s something embarrassing about being looked at so closely, especially by someone as beautiful as he was. Your gaze drops to the ground as you release him from your prying hands. Yet at that very instant, Malleus’ hands fly towards your wrists, clutching at them.

His grip is tight, bruising even. He grips firmly, until your wrist is pressed sore. You feel him trembling ever so slightly, nails digging against your skin. Holding you so tightly, like a petulant child, determined not to let go of his favourite toy.

You glance upwards, only to see Malleus’s face frozen, his lips curled back into a fine line. Worry carves its mark onto his face, along with something a little more… darker. A steely glare, as a king would give his subjects.

The stern gaze a master would give to their puppet.

You attempt to yank your hand back, yelping as his grip only grows tighter. Through gritted teeth, you hiss out:

“You’re hurting me, Malleus.”

Those words seem to snap him back to his senses. He loosens up his grip on your hand, rubbing the bruises forming absentmindedly with his thumb. Yet Malleus doesn’t let go.

“I’m sorry, child of man. I worry for… you, sometimes. Especially with your memory hazy…”

Malleus pauses, deep in thought. Before those startlingly green eyes snap right back upwards, staring deep into your own.

“Have you remembered anything?”

You shrug the best you could, before sighing.

“If I did, I would have told you, wouldn’t I?”

Malleus spoke softly, muttering to himself more than anything:

“Yes. Yes you would have.”

A sigh floats off his lips then, a gentle sound. Perhaps it was meant to be a sympathetic sound, filled with Malleus’s pity for you… although you couldn’t help but detect a sense of relief within that sound. As if he was happy you didn’t remember anything.

How odd, but then again, this was Malleus. Would he really ever do anything to hurt you? Both of you go way back after all…. Actually, how did you two meet again? You vaguely remember him in a… school uniform. Green, like those beautiful eyes of his.

Frowning, you squint at Malleus, trying to picture him in a school uniform. It was a rather weird fit, for one as regal as he was. Yet it felt… familiar. Like something natural to you. Raising a hand, you cup his cheek tenderly, gently.

Before whispering to him softly:

“Hey, Malleus? Where did we meet again?”

He blinks at you, before you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist. Coaxing you closer towards his chest, wrapped up in his embrace. A loving gesture, reserved for those experiencing the tender pangs of romance.

“What are you even talking about, darling? We were always together.”

“Didn’t we meet at college, though?”

At those words , his grip turns to stone, keeping you firmly locked within his arms. What was once a tender, loving embrace becoming smothering, imprisoning, overbearing. You were locked in Malleus’s arms, with no escape.

Malleus sighs once more, looking at you as if… you disappointed him somehow. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see green sparks flare to life, forked tongues of flame hissing and spitting at everything they could reach.

“I think you haven’t had enough sleep yet, child of man. Perhaps a little nap would do you good.”

You grimace, before retorting:

“I’m good, Malleus, I just woke up. Don’t you remember?”

Yet that doesn’t stop Malleus from pressing a hand into your eyelids, coaxing them down gently. He coos at you, muttering sweet nothings into your ear until all the fight leaves your soul, and you start feeling awfully, terribly sleepy.

The last things you hear are Malleus’ soft chuckles, before the world turns to black.

“Rest well, my love.”

Your day starts with the birds singing, from the castle’s windows. The same old song, over and over again.

Oh, will they ever sing a different tune?

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus #yandere malleus #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus x reader #protection potion♦️

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ceruleancattail · 6 months

Text

Worries

Yandere Guardian Angel Azul x reader

Tw: yandere, Manipulation, Azul does your bills for you-

Azul worries.

To be fair, it’s rare for him to relax. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the tension leave his shoulders… fully, at least. Mist grey eyes sharper then any blade, barely concealed behind those silver glasses of his.

The biggest, most amiable smile could be dancing merrily on his lips, but his gaze would remain cold. Not an instant blast of the winter’s air. At least that would hit you once, hard and fast.

The chill of his stare crept slowly across your skin, lapping at your ankles like the ocean’s waters rocking gently into the sandy shore. A pleasant sensation, rocking you back and forth mildly. Lulled gently by those soothing waves, you step forward, only to be slowly submerged within the Sea’s embrace.

The cold slowly gnaws at you, sinking deep into your flesh, the bitter chill gnawing at your bones. A dull, throbbing pain that left every limb trembling. Like a mast of a ship, lost. Tossing and turning within the merciless waves of a thundering storm.

As an angel, he has the divine right to interfere. In a way, it made things a little simpler as compared to now. Azul could keep you from harm with just a simple flick of his little finger.

The car speeding towards you? Suddenly twisted out of the way, slamming into a weatherbeaten old lamppost instead.

A lift just about to break? Its doors slam shut before you could even enter.

Financial trouble? Well, he’ll just have some… generosity come your way.

Azul supposed those little infringements added to the severeness of his banishment. He was pulling too many strings just for one soul. It started as a whim at first, in all honesty.

Azul just wanted to protect you. That was his job. It was what he was supposed to do.

He doesn’t know when exactly did he fall for that smile of yours. It was illuminating, with all the gentle radiance of the silver moon. Every move you took, was like watching the moonlight bounce off the ocean waters, sparkling shyly against the pitch black night.

Before he knew it, he was falling. Crashing onto the ground like some featherless bird, lacking any sort of dignity howsoever. Not the best first impression, but you still took him in.

How generous of you, love.

Azul isn’t one to let a debt go unpaid. Especially one he owes you. It’s ironic really, how he was the one who was supposed to help you, not the other way around. Although Azul can’t really say he doesn’t like the attention you give him, gently dabbing medication against his crumbling wings.

He likes it. A little too much. After all, Azul’s spent so long up in those clouds, giving you all of his attention… doesn’t he deserve the same from you?

He’s not particularly keen of sharing his pearl, not when he’s finally right by your side, where he belongs. Slowly, Azul sinks his fingers into your life. Picking and choosing the company you keep, tugging at strings here and there to keep those unsavoury presences away from you.

His arm around your shoulder or your waist at all times, squeezing a little harder then what was considered normal. If you ever bring it up, Azul just moans about how weakened he was, after being casted down. You wouldn’t be as cruel as to leave him all alone, would you?

You tell him it’s fine. He could lean on you as much as he wanted.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

After all, Azul worries so much about you. Mortals live such taxing lives, it’s astounding. Why don’t you let him help out? Azul has nothing to do, all alone at home after all. He can help you with sorting through administrative matters.

It starts with just that. Slowly, Azul takes over your financials, bit by bit. He has everything in the palm of his hand, absolute control over everything in your name. Soon, you’re the one coming to him for help, just the way it should be.

Being mortal has its perks. He no longer had to hold himself to the golden rules that all angels hold dear. Truth to be told? He’s always thought that those words were a bunch of self-righteous bullshit.

Constraining, binding. No better then steel-forged chains, keeping him from you. How cruel of them, right, darling?

He wants you. He needs you. Azul loves you.

This desire gradually builds up, showing itself with slow, calculated moves. He’s careful, painstakingly so. Manoeuvring you like a sole piece on a chessboard, making you dance like a mere puppet in his hands. Knocking over every other piece standing, until only you remained.

Fear not, love. Azul will guide you. It is his duty, as your Guardian Angel, after all.

Azul plays the long game, eyes fixed on the final outcome. Only when you’re standing on that checkered chessboard all alone, then you realise what he’s done. By then, it’s too late.

You’ve drowned in his affections, forever caged within the palm of his hand.

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ceruleancattail · 27 days

Note

I see your requests are open and I haven’t made one in a long time. Feel free to not write about this because I am a sucker for only one or two aus🥹I’m just boring like that. I feel like I’m a regular at a cafe that asks for the same thing- I’m so sorry😭🙏

Firstly, HOW ARE YOU and take your time with these requests💖🫶 may I ask for a Nightfall Leona and Floyd? Maybe diving deep into their relationship with the reader? Or how about reader catching them in the act (of their evil deeds perhaps👀) how would Leona and Floyd react?

Nah you’re good! It’s like having a familiar face drop by and I already have the order ready to go. It’s a comforting thing, like a set routine? Please don’t feel so bad about it! I really took my time with this oops-

Nightfall Au

General Headcanons for Leona and Floyd

Leona x reader, Floyd x reader

Tw: death, gore, kinda yandere because it’s a Ceru fic, of course it is-

Leona Kingscholar

The boss of Savanaclaw.

He’s very practical in the way he runs the gang. Moving men around with a hooked finger, shifting them like pieces on the chessboard. Unfortunately, he does value each and every one of them, which makes him such an interesting person to work with.

He’ll never admit it though. Always muttering about doing things with the least amount of effort needed in his part… although his operations always seem to have the least causalities as well.

Leona knows the names of every single person who’s in Savanaclaw. He’s memorised them, actually. However, if you ever mention it, Leona’s face takes on a more sober shade.

“Ain’t nothin’ much. At least I’ll know what to put on their tombstone.”

How did he discover the Lantern?

Leona has made a habit of wandering about at night. There aren’t too many people out and about then, and those who are, were normally too drunk to care about him. For a while, Leona’s just another person on the street. It suits him just fine, really. He’ll pick a lonely corner shrouded in shadow, watching people stagger by silently. Quietly observing, taking note of each person’s pace, the way they carried themselves.

As tiresome as people were, reading them like a book was something that came naturally to Leona. Although like with every skill, it has to be practised and honed, lest the blade of talent turns dull.

Sometimes, he gets a little peckish. Walking about in the dark does that to a person. By chance, he walks by the Lantern. A 24 hour cafe, lights still twinkling from within glass doors. He pauses in front, watching the person manning the counter. How hardworking, they seemed to be. A little anxious as well, rearranging pastries over and over again. It was a rather adorable sight.

You’d piqued his interest, rather you like it or not.

Relationship with Him

It feels like he exists just to frustrate you, sometimes. Leona takes forever with his orders, dragging a crooked finger across the menu. He often has the most ridiculously convoluted orders ever, with a seemingly endless list of requirements. He likes watching your lips curl in frustration, as you mutter his order quietly under your breath.

How you’re so clearly annoyed with him, but you’re still rushing around the kitchen all the same, determined to fulfil whatever he says. It’s almost as you take it as a personal challenge.

Leona likes to watch you bustle around, pouring out your very heart into the meal. There’s a passion burning behind those eyes as you busy yourself with his order. There’s little he misses, especially if it’s about you. Your little habits in the kitchen, the way you hold your utensils… Leona sees and remembers it all.

He also doesn’t miss the gleam in your eyes and you place his order before him, beaming at a job well done. That pride you take in your work is rather respectable. Your smile then is also pretty cute, honestly.

As much Leona likes to tease, you hardly feel any malice from his actions. It’s almost as if you’re being batted around softly by a cat’s paws, a treasured possession. Something to amuse him, for a while. Yet there was a warmth behind his expression, whenever you met his gaze. An almost tender look.

Ever since Leona started frequenting your cafe, tools haven’t seem to be breaking down as often. Heck, you don’t even remember having this much silverware. It’s almost as if they multiply by themselves every week… how strange.

Probably nothing much… right?

If He’s caught in Red-Handed

Leona doesn’t take drastic measures to appear like a normal citizen. Lying to you would be too much of a bother, so what he does is to mislead you. If you question about his occupation, Leona just says he runs an organisation. He’ll not elaborate much, only keeping things to short sentences and grunts, neither confirming nor denying any of your questions.

Although if he’s finally caught in the act, it would probably in the name of protecting you or the cafe. Calmly shooting someone who dared to attempt a robbery in the Lantern point blank, without even so much as a change in expression. Leona would simply call up some of his men to clean up the mess.

Don’t worry, no crime will be linked back to you, so don’t worry your lil’ head, herbivore.

If you’re shocked, he’s just going to laugh at the way your eyes widen. Did he ever tell you what he did? No? So why are you surprised by this? Whatever expectations you have in your head, dash them.

He’s a murderer, and that’s what he’ll stay as.

Chuckling coldly, he’ll simply tuck his payment under his cup, before walking off into the night. Having people target the cafe means that you’ll be in danger. So Leona will simply take his leave. Let those ruffians chase him instead.

He’ll still keep tabs on you, watching from building rooftops, from within parked cars. Leona’s still staring wistfully into the kitchen you roam within. Even after all his big talk, he’s the one who can’t leave you.

Although if you were the one who was attacked, you’ll get to see the brutality of Leona Kingscholar. A shot to the head was too merciful for scum like them. Leona’s arm snakes around your waist, yanking you closer to him. While he fires round after round into the attacker’s thighs, rendering them immobile. What happens next? Leona wouldn’t let you see.

He’ll yank you into his coat, shielding your eyes from whatever gruesome scene awaits before you. A part of him feels a pang of pain at the way you shiver and tremble within his grasp. You’ve been led to believe the great big cat who frequented your store was docile. Now, you’ve seen his fangs.

For once, you’re afraid of the lion.

You won’t have any say, if this happens. Leona’s dragging you into a car and taking you… somewhere. Somewhere “safe”. Everything you need from your house? He’s sending men over right now to grab everything they can. You were almost murdered on Leona’s watch. You can bet he’s worried to death about your safety now.

You’re just some herbivore, after all. If he wasn’t there… no. He was there. And he’ll always be, from now on.

You’ll never leave his side ever again.

Floyd Leech

The famed loose canon of Octavinelle, Floyd Leech. Dual wielding a pair of destructive guns, he’s famed for the absolute blood baths he leaves behind. He’s who Octavinelle sends whenever they want to make a statement. Whether it’s to threaten rival gangs to return what they’re owe, or to destroy them entirely, Floyd’s the guy for the job.

The only problem is that he’s a little too unpredictable for fine operations. If you make him wait too long, he’s stepping on the gas and leaving you far, far behind in the dust. Not the best trait you’ll want in a getaway driver.

As crazed as people make him out to be, Floyd can be reasoned with. He actively ensures that whatever deals he deals are “fair” in the loosest sense. Both parties have to gain something, in order for it to be called a deal, after all.

If something’s a waste of time, Floyd would tell you that straight up. Was it him being kind, or could he just not be bothered to lie? Nobody really knows.

How did he discover the Lantern?

He was probably hungry. For those who lurk within the shadows, the night is the best time to work. After all, it’s called the “dead of night” for a reason. It’s already dead, so what’s the difference of adding more deaths to that phrase?

The problem is that not a lot of stores are open at these ungodly hours, and Floyd’s pretty sick of eating instant meals. Sure, they’re tasty, but if you eat enough of them, they just feel… dry. Empty, in an odd sort of way. Also, if he eats too much, he’ll feel sick, so no thanks.

So he’ll drag himself from street to street, searching for something to satisfy his grumbling stomach. Until he spots a light in the distance, and the heavenly scent of freshly baked bread waft into his nostrils. His gaze flickers up to a signboard before him.

The Lantern, huh? The worker’s kinda’ cute. Scampering here and there like a lil’ shrimp caught up in the currents. Hey, maybe he’ll call them shrimpy.

Guess he could give this place a try. Anything’s better than eating out of a plastic box again.

Relationship with Him

Floyd pesters you all the time. Leaning over the counter, fiddling with the bell until you come out. Even then, you have to physically pry the bell out of his hands for him to stop ringing it. He’s stubborn, though.

So both of you end up in a wrestle for the bell, fingers slipping and pulling away. Floyd plays dirty, though. He’ll hold it high above your head so you’ll have to jump and try to reach it. He’s laughing all the while. Yet there’s a weakness in that tactic you exploit daily.

His sides. You’ll jab and tickle him until Floyd’s laughing hysterically, and the bell will drop. These little tussles add some colour to your day, at the very least. After a shift of standing idle, a playful fight helps to get some blood pumping. As much as you grumble about it, you have to admit that it’s fun.

Floyd always seems to pop in at odd hours, so most of the time it’s just you and him. While you’re whipping up his massive order (how can one guy eat that much?), Floyd’s doing some redecorating. Pushing all the tables together to form one big table, arranging the chairs so there’s two of them, facing each other.

Sometimes, if you’re shorter than him, he stacks up the chairs as a personal jibe at you. If you’re taller than him, now he’ll stack up his own chairs, so he towers above you.

Floyd always shares half of what he orders with you. Even if you refuse, he’s grabbing you by the wrist and forcing a spoonful of desert into your mouth. How is it? Isn’t it so good? Y’know, Floyd does really like the cooking here. He does appreciate the effort you put into each and every single thing you serve, so what better way to thank you than to encourage force you into taking a break?

Besides, there isn’t anyone else in the store now. Just you and him. Aw, you went all red when he said that. Hopeless romantic, huh?

That’s cute, shrimpy.

If He’s caught Red-Handed

Floyd’s another guy who would simply not care. Ask him no questions, and he’ll tell no lies. He effectively hushes your endless inquires with howling laughter, before his voice drops:

“Do you really want to know?”

He’s not against telling you what he does for a living, but Floyd wouldn’t want to scare you away… too soon, at least. Although, he drops a few hints here and there sometimes, just to see that flicker of panic flitter over your expression. Allowing you to catch a small glimpse of his holsters, rolling up his sleeves to reveal arms filled with tattoos swirling around his arms.

Sometimes, he’ll come to the Lantern all battered up. Nothing too drastic, only a few cuts and scrapes all over his skin. He’ll throw his arms over your shoulders, whining about how much it stings, how much it hurts until you cave in and give him some attention.

Floyd loves it when you tend to his wounds. Every touch gentle, pressing softly into his tender skin. Even your chiding sounds melodious to his ears. Man, you’re really worried about him, aren’t you?

He’s silent during those times, content with watching your hands wash and dress his wounds. Your fingertips brush against his hands sometimes, a warm caress. It’s gone all too soon, warmth vanishing into the air. Floyd’s left craving for more, long after your hands leave his skin.

Your warmth, your touch, your love… Floyd just wants it all. But he’s not rash. He’ll wait patiently for you, until the lil’ shrimp wanders into his clutches themselves… then he’ll engulf them in his embrace then. He’ll wait.

Of course, that is if you’re safe.

For Floyd, no matter whether it’s the Lantern or you that’s attacked, he’s seeing red. The Lantern was your workplace. It could have hurt you, killed you-

There’s no reasoning with Floyd on this. He’s not even going to bother with calling backup. He’s holding up both of his guns, sending bullet after bullet after the attackers with a deathly calmness. Floyd fires again and again, until the click of his guns alert him to the lack of bullets within.

Oh, if they attack you? Floyd’s pulling out all the stops. He wouldn’t even bother with a gun, effectively tackling the attacker with his arms alone, disarming them with a sharp slap to the wrist. A sadistic grin spread across his lips, you’ll have to close your own eyes as he snaps the poor attacker’s arms.

It’s messy, it’s gruesome, it’s cruel.

A pair of wet hands grab at your hands, staining your fingers a bright crimson red. Hey, why are you looking away? There’s no need to be scared now, Floyd took care of it. They were going to do so much worse to you, Y’know?

His arms snake around your torso, pulling you gently towards his torso. Floyd’s doing his best to be all soft and gentle to you, and you know that. But it’s hard not to be afraid of those same soft and tender hands, once you’ve seen them quite literally rip a person apart.

Aw, you’re trembling, Shrimpy! Relax, Floyd’s going to bring you somewhere safe. Somewhere that’s just you and him.

Isn’t that just so nice of him?

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ceruleancattail · 1 year

Note

Yandere Malleus??? So many possibilities with the future king

Ok as someone who plays on the en server, I'm going to write for him based on what I know. JP Malleus can stay far far away from me. Let me level my boys in peace.

tw:yandere, Malleus being a gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss/hj

Yandere Malleus Draconia

The Crown Prince of Briar Valley. Seated on his throne of thorns, surveying the land that lies before him. His subjects, taking a knee before him. The back of their heads exposed to him, eyes kept down.

Out of respect? Out of fear?

He's not too sure.

No one tells the truth in his court. Everything's hidden behind a veil of lies, woven with flattery as smooth as silk. They wrap around his eyes, tightening slowly but steadily. Blinding Malleus from the schemes of the court.

He thought that Night Raven College would be different. Life as a student, interacting with others like equals, for once in his life. Unfortunately, his reputation precedes him. The students all duck around him, scuttling away like ants from a fire.

His dorm mates worship him like a god. Malleus' flanked by two guards at all times. Everywhere he goes, people are watching. Flinching when he approaches. They hold him at arms' length,treat him as someone untouchable.

Out of respect? Out of fear?

Again, he does not know. Does it matter? It's a peaceful life. No one bothers him.... no one ever approaches him, for that matter. Malleus tells himself that it's fine. He enjoys the solitude.

That is, until he met you. The prefect of Ramshackle. The student who belongs to nowhere. A fresh face from another world. A brand new page, unsoiled by the norms of Twisted Wonderland. Someone who doesn't know him as Malleus Draconia.

Your eyes met his. You didn't wince at the sight of him. Even going as far as to dub him as "Hornton", you weren't afraid in the slightest. Drawn like a moth to the flame, Malleus finds himself drifting towards you. He finds comfort, in your company.

Child of man, you've bewitched him, have you not? This burn in his chest is unbearable. Tongues of flame searing your image deep into his heart.

You're the only one for him.

Malleus takes it upon himself to keep you protected. You have no need for other influences. The wagging tongues of people may lead you astray. He knows better, having grown up with the dizzying politics of the royal court. You, however... are a mere child of man. He'll take it upon himself to protect you.

Slowly, but surely, you'll start to realise that your friends are a little.. distant. They ignore you in the halls, turning tail whenever they catch a glimpse of you. Even Magicam is silent, no one ever reaching out to you.

No one but Malleus. He seeks your company at odd hours of the night. He stands over your sleeping form, offering a hand to you. It hurts, does it not? He knows how you feel. Take a walk with him, Prefect. His company may not be much, but he'll take away your pain.

Hand in hand, he guides you through the school grounds. It's somehow ethereal, the way something so familiar could look so different bathed in silvery moonlight. With a flick of his wrist, flames of emerald burst into life, swirling around you two. They hang in the air like fireflies, twinkling mischievously at you.

It's nights like this which help make you feel alive again. For those brief moments, your loneliness is banished. All you can feel is the warmth of the flames, and Malleus' fingers intertwined with yours. That's all you need to feel, really.

He’ll keep you by his side.

Out of Respect? Out of Fear?

He doesn’t care which.

Now, Prefect dear. Take his hand, and let him show you a piece of his world.

It'll be all you'll ever know.

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ceruleancattail · 7 months

Text

Wounds

Yandere Leona x reader

Tw: mentions of gore, yandere

Don’t scratch at open wounds.

You’ll just make it worse.

That’s what you tell yourself whenever a chill races down your spine, settling deep within its base.

Whenever goosebumps rise on your skins, spreading across both your arms with a sickeningly intensity.

Whenever you tremble, limbs jerking around involuntarily. A sole leaf in the howling winds of a storm, at the complete mercy of the forces of nature.

In a way, Leona felt something like that. A wild, untameable creature. A force of nature, whose abilities lie further then any richter scale could classify. A beast, razor sharp fangs bared at anyone who was foolish enough to oppose him.

He wasn’t feral though. Far from it, actually.

Every single move of his was calculated, like pieces dancing across the checkered floor of a chessboard. One step after another, and before you know it, you’re cornered on all sides. Every route of escape crushed into sand, trickling away before your eyes.

You would know.

You were one of the pieces.

Batted around by his paws, treated like a little plaything. Leona was never far from you, arm draping off your shoulders. He was especially fond of using you as a pillar of support, hanging off you like a big old cat.

You could hardly take a step without Leona’s weight pressing down on your form. Half lidded eyes regard you lazily, a certain sort of affection apparent.

Sometimes, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, throat rumbling.

Warmth spreads onto your neck, something wet lapping against your skin. The ghost of fangs grazing across the base of your neck, the very edge sliding over with all the smoothness of a well-sharpened dagger.

Leona’s version of kisses, you suppose. Something tender, something soft.

It makes your skin crawl.

But you know better then to stop him.

You’ve attempted to push him off once. That didn’t go so well. Leona quickly decided that you forgot how sharp his fangs were. The wound stayed for days, a crimson, gory mess on your shoulder.

As if his claws couldn’t do enough damage already.

After every “incident”, Leona patches you up personality. His way of making amends, perhaps. Or maybe it’s just a way to ensure that his favourite little toy doesn’t collapse entirely on him.

Calloused fingers yanking bandages free from plastic, dabbing your arms with gauze that scratched and ointment that reeked. He treats you with care, really. It’s surprising how hands capable of such violence could treat you gently, gingerly sewing up gashing wounds.

It’s as if he could be nice, if he wanted.

Once Leona’s satisfied with his handiworks, his arms will find their way around you. Wrapping around your waist, tugging you onto his lap. Slotting your back against his chest, leaving not even a centimetre of space between you two.

You could feel every heartbeat beat into your back, beat steady against the fluttering of your own. The heartbeat of a frightened animal, caught in the clutches of a beast so much bigger then itself.

Nothing but silence passes you two, during these moments. What’s the point of berating you verbally? You know the consequences of defying him. You’ve paid for it, in flesh and blood.

Instead of half-assed apologies, you’ll do much better quiet and docile. Just sit pretty on his lap, sweetheart. Give him something soft and warm to lie against, and all is forgiven.

Behind Leona, his tail is swishing, a metronome’s steady beat. A warning to all the others, who would dare to disturb his peace.

Back Off.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Leona kingscholar #Leona x reader #Leona kingscholar x reader #Leona #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere leona #yandere leona x reader #yandere Leona kingscholar x reader #yandere Leona kingscholar #protection potion♦️

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ceruleancattail · 6 months

Note

CERU CONGRATS FOR THE 200FICS MILESTONE 💕💞💖💗 you can publish a real book by that length now 😭💕💗💕💗💕 i love your dedication and more success for youu 🥳🥳

for the sentience event~ is it alright to request the Fellow Honest? 🦊✨

Like imagine him successfully turning every NRC student into dolls and hes exporting them to his boss now but hes quite attached to the "magicless student & their freebie cat" doll set so he plans to keep them rather than sell ✨✨ you know as a token for the good work 👍👍

i like to think that fellow thinks back on that time where Yuu were still human and offered to study with them in NRC... even if it wont come true, its a nicer thought to think that they couldve met as classmates and had a normal relationship... instead of this hollow conversation with a doll created out of their body--

@rayroseu IN MY INBOX!!!!!! Thank you oh my goodness-

Yup, writing a full novel is the goal! Working on little something’s here and there mostly ahah- fanfics are fun too, though!

Thank you so much for the well-wishes! Same to you, the Diasonmia family’s dearest portrait painter.

Er disclaimer, I don’t really know much about Fellow Honest. I’m just going to write this based on the general vibe I get of him. Sorry if it’s very out of character!

Sentience presents:

Tethered

Self Aware Fellow Honest x reader

Tw: yandere

Warmth bleeds into your shoulder. The reassuring weight of a hand, patting you carelessly. An affectionate gesture of a friend, truly. Well, until his hand slide down the length of your arm, fingers caressing every curve.

Your skin used to be softer. Warmer, actually. The gentle warmth of the sun’s golden rays. However, now it’s frozen, wrinkled with the etch of wood, jagging through your entire body.

Fellow’s fingers slid into the grooves carved out on your body, tracing them aimlessly. When he lifts his hand, his fingertips were pressed pink, the patterns on your skin imprinted onto his own.

With one fluid motion, he brings them to his lips. Pressing a sweet, tender kiss into them. It’s sort of romantic, the same marks that mar you, carved deep into the pads of his fingers. Almost like those cutesy matching things couples tend to purchase.

Fellow’s sorry he can’t get you any, but this is certainly much more intimate then any hollow plastic trinket, isn’t it?

Shaking his head, Fellow’s arms snake around your waist. Dragging you closer to them, until your hip bumped against his. The ghost of a smirk waltzing across Fellow’s lips, the dastardly smile of a victor, staring down at his spoils of war. A chuckle bubbles out of his chest, dripping with the amusement a child would have, upon finding a new plaything.

There was something cruel about his laugh, a certain quality that would have made your blood run cold.

Of course, that was when you still had blood running through your veins.

Now, there was nothing but wood. Your pulse faltered to a stop, your lifeless eyes staring back at his own. Even your expression melted back into something neutral. A blank slate.

Gently prising your fingers apart, Fellow slides his palm against yours. Gingerly sliding his fingers in between yours, wrapping around the back of your hand firmly. Leaving no room for escape. Although that wouldn’t matter now, right?

It’s not as if a puppet could break off its own strings. Not when those same strings keep it tethered upright. It’s a pity you couldn’t speak in this state, but Fellow doesn’t mind too much.

He can still hear your voice, echoing ever so clearly within his mind. Your pleading voice, as you clutched at his hand with those warm, gentle palms of yours. Begging for him to release your classmates, for him to come with you to Night Raven College.

You were practically on your knees, asking him to let you save him-

If he was being honest, Fellow’s heart skipped a beat then. For a split second, he let himself hope. A fleeting dream, really. Fellow’s already too deep in this darkness of this twisted wonderland to ever dream of being in the light.

This gentle hope had no place in his heart. All it did was really plunge him in deeper despair, really. It hurts him, ever so truly! You wound him deeper then any knife.

So shouldn’t you take responsibility for your actions?

Fellow knows the light isn’t the place for him.

So he’ll just drag you to the depths of hell with him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fellow honest x reader #fellow honest #fellow x reader #fellow #sentience #self aware au #protection potion♦️#THIS IS THE LAST SENTIENCE REQUEST I’LL ANSWER #THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR ACTIVE PARTICIPATION #gods I’m tired

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ceruleancattail · 11 months

Text

Stains

Yandere Vil x reader

Silk presses into your thighs. It crinkles, folds of cloth leaving red lines snaking across your skin. Your back throbs, a dull ache running down your spine. Shoulders loosening, you slouch, just a tiny bit.

A sharp click of a tongue. It hits you like a whip’s crack, your back straightening once more. Glancing upwards, you see waves of blonde hair, tipped with purple. Back facing you, his reflection glared daggers into your eyes. Lips drawn into a thin line, a cold expression. Your limbs tensed, as if bracing for impact.

It was hard to relax, especially when Vil was around.

The lights on his makeup table pulse, bright enough to rival the sun. You wince, squinting as much as you dared. Doing your best to keep your eyes open despite the blinding light. Doing your best to keep your eyes on him. You know better then to ever avert your gaze.

Vil was a queen of beauty, and he expects you to treat him as such. Anything less, and you risk displeasing him. You never really recovered from the last time, not when the pain shooting up your knees every time you took a step.

A pop from the table. Vil’s fingers prise the lid of lipstick loose, setting it down on the table gently. Leaning closer to the mirror, he places the tube onto his lips, colouring them a bright scarlet.

“How does it look, love? I brought this product specially for you.”

Meekly, you raise your head. Vil turns to you, a faint smile playing on those elegant lips of his. His eyes meet yours, lilac pupils staring deep into your soul. It makes you shudder, a chill settling deep into the base of your back.

“It looks wonderful… as always, Vil.”

You mumble, doing your best to avert your gaze. There was a certain coldness in his eyes. Look too long, and you’ll shatter like brittle ice. This was probably why he was crowned Queen of beauty.

Ruthless as he was.

The screech of a chair dragging across the floor. Pushing himself up, Vil walks over towards you. Seizing your chin, he forces your face upwards. Fingers squeezing firmly, nails imbedding themselves deep into your skin, leaving crimson crescents pulsing across your cheeks.

His lips meet your forehead, the plush of his lips pressing hard against your skin. Pulling away, he presses another onto the very tip of your nose. Each of his kisses burnt red hot, searing your body. Branding it, like cattle.

Finally, his lips seek yours. Locking his lips against yours, Vil guides you downwards, your back flat against the sheet. You whine, struggling against his hold. His kisses were certainly passionate, yet there was a underlying greed to each and everyone of them.

He takes and takes. Until your lungs scream in pain, clawing at your windpipe like some feral beast. Once he pulls away, you’re breathless, chest heaving up and down. A dry cough tears through your throat, as your body struggles with the lack of air.

Vil only tuts, patting your cheek appreciatively. A nauseatingly patronising gesture. All you wanted to do was to tear his hand off your skin. Every touch felt like prickly thorns stabbing into you, irritating your skin. An itch that has you tempted to tear your flesh from your bones.

Yet you stay still, eyes still on Vil.

The ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, he whips out his phone. Sliding the camera app open, he holds it in front of your face. Your bewildered face is reflected back to you, lipstick dotting your face like freckles.

Instinctively, you raise a hand to those scarlet marks. Rubbing at them with your thumb. To your dismay, they don’t budge. A weight settles deep onto your heart, dragging it to the pits of your gut.

That’s why he brought this particular lipstick.

His… mark, on his beloved.

A collar for his darling.

His.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #yandere Vil x reader #Vil schoenheit #vil #vil schoenheit x reader #Vil x reader #yandere vil #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #protection potion♦️

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ceruleancattail · 6 months

Note

For your horror au, may I request self aware Lilia Vanrouge (or Cater Diamond) reacting to us choosing him (taking his hand)?

I'm unsure about your character limit (I read your rules, but perhaps missed that).

About Lilia(or Cater), his reaction and maybe what he would do if possible 👀

If u don't wanna do it it's okay!

Thank you!💗✨️

Sentience presents:

Hand

Self aware Lilia, Cater x reader

Tw: yandere

Plunging your hand in that mirror took a great deal of courage on your part.

Ebony swirls around within the confines of your screen, twisting and turning like a serpent uncoiling itself from its nest. Its scales shimmering, light catching and dancing on those shards of dark obsidian. Even as you peered into the depths, there was nothing there.

Only the faint reflection of your eyes wide open, staring back at you. What lies beyond the screen? Despite your uncertainty, the curiosity got the better of you. You’ll never know for sure unless you take the plunge.

Lilia

The first thing you feel was the bite of someone’s nails. As sharp as well honed blades, gently grazing the back of your palm. Fingertips roughened with callouses press against your palm, scratching and yanking at the plush of your hand. The hand of a seasoned warrior, one who isn’t shy to the horrors of battle.

Glancing upwards, you meet a pair of eyes. Pupils wide open, coloured with the deep, dark crimson of wine. They had the same richness as well. A certain intoxicating quality that only drew you closer and closer. An odd quality that just kept you wanting more.

Lilia Vanrouge.

The character whose hand you opted to take at the start.

He tilts his head ever so slightly, a sneaky grin dancing on his lips. Lilia’s fingers creep in between yours, intertwining them with a sickeningly sweet tenderness. The kind of fondness one would only show their true lover.

Flipping your hand over, he sinks onto his knee. Gently coaxing the back of your palm towards his lips. Not close enough to touch, but close enough for you to feel his breath waft over your bare skin.

A burning warmth, lingering for just a brief moment. Before you could even savour the sensation, it vanishes. Disappearing into thin air. You could swear you caught the ghost of a smirk flicker on Lilia’s lips, the smug smile of a victor.

A sharp sting struck your palm. Pain jolting through your skin, before fading into a dull throb. Glancing down revealed nothing but red. Beads of blood dripping down small wounds on your hand. Puncture wounds.

Lilia looks up once more, lips dyed scarlet.

He knew you’ll take his hand.

It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Darling.

Cater

Warmth engulfs your palm. Long, slender fingers coaxing yours apart, before they slip within the gaps. Holding your hand, palm to palm. Close enough for you to feel a pulse beating into your skin. An erratic beat, thumping with all the passion of a fiery salsa.

You’re unceremoniously yanked forward, body slamming into someone’s chest. A weight presses into your waist, an arm snaking around you. Clutching you as tightly as it humanly could, as if you were the last thing it would ever hold.

Half-lidded eyes meet yours, your features reflected within those emerald green pupils. A red diamond was painted onto his cheek, yet even that was wrinkled ever so slightly.

A vague memory bubbled into your mind. The faces of the characters you scanned through through joining the game. This was the one you chose, wasn’t it?

A Cater… Diamond.

As your eyes light up with recognition, Cater lets out a bright laugh. It sounds a bit wrong, fractured on the edges… as if it was forced out. Moving forward, he tucks his head into the crook of your neck. Cater’s arms snake around your torso, giving you a quick squeeze.

A friendly hug of greeting, he claims.

Even then, you felt that his touch lingered a little longer then it really should. The feeling of his breath on the base of your neck… it made your skin crawl. Arms prickling with goosebumps, you couldn’t help the tension that crept into your shoulders.

Aww, why so on-guard? Cater’s not going to hurt you. Well, unless you give him a reason to.

He’s waited for this moment since forever!

So you better not ruin it, love.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #sentience #self aware au #Lilia Vanrouge #Lilia Vanrouge x reader #Lilia #Lilia x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #cater #cater x reader #protection potion♦️

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ceruleancattail · 6 months

Note

Hey Ceru!!! So if it's not too much of a biggie can I request a yandere scenerio for the event with riddle 👉👈

Like Player is affectionate and kind with everyone but their actions like hugs etc tend to linger longer on him indicating that they favor him.

Anyways congrats on the 200 fics btw ୧⍤⃝💜

Sentience presents:

Yours

Self aware Riddle x reader

Tw: yandere

Riddle could feel your gaze.

The warmth of a bright spring morning, the golden rays of the sun dancing merrily on his arms. Engulfing him in a soft, angelic halo. Your attention, settling around his heart like a well-worn blanket. A comfortable weight pressing into his very skin, soothing the tension in his shoulders.

A single touch from you sends him over the moon. Every time he feels your warmth against his skin, Riddle’s immediately turning beet-red. Struggling to cling into that tingling sensation long after it fades away.

He’s obsessed over your touches. Memorised them, even. Replayed every single moment in his head when he’s alone, hands trailing around the parts you’ve touched.

The gentle caress of your fingers, sliding down the curve of his cheek. The little squeeze of your arms wrapping around his torso. The way you pat his arm reassuringly, grin playing brightly on your lips.

You are an affectionate soul, truly.

Reaching out to whoever you wish, arms always ready to embrace those who wished for it. A bleeding heart, truly. You could give and give forever, if only to see a smile on someone’s face.

People like you end up milked dry by the despicable blood-suckers of Night Raven College.

Do you not see? The others will take, and take until they’re satisfied. They’ve leave you for dead, once they’ve squeezed every last drop of love out of you.

Maybe that’s why your gaze seemed to linger on him even more then the others. Fingers grazing his skin gingerly. A desperate prayer. You needed him. You needed him to help you, to protect you from those who only seek to use you.

Riddle will gladly step up to the task. After all, the authority he wields is more than enough to shield you from the lecherous gazes of the masses. Stand beside him, and no one will dare to ever touch you ever again.

He clutches your hands like a prayer, fingers trembling from the slightest contact with yours. Whispering your praises in a fevered tone, like a devotee worshipping his deity.

The only difference was a deity would have been treated with so much more respect. Not locked up like a common mongrel, a collar fastened securely around your neck. A mark of ownership, crafted by Riddle himself.

His unique magic. A part of him, to be by your side at all times. There was something romantic about it, if the idea of being collared like a prized pet didn’t make you sick to your stomach.

Riddle’s nails dug deep into the back of your palm, creating crimson crescents. When red welts start to form, all Riddle can do is sigh. Almost like a field of roses, blooming just for the both of you.

Rather romantic, is it not?

He always thought Red looked wonderful on you.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #sentience #self aware au #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #riddle #yandere riddle #yandere riddle x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #protection potion♦️

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ceruleancattail · 5 months

Text

Some yandere Floyd Bartender thoughts…

thank you @gyarunie for listening to my deranged discord rambles-

Tw: yandere, forced alcohol consumption

Floyd’s damn near toppling over the counter in his haste to greet you. Hands fumbling around, yanking your coat off your shoulders. It’s quickly tossed aside,dangling off one of the coat hanger’s hooks. Swaying from the left to the right, a clock’s pendulum.

Counting down to your doom.

His touch still lingers, long after your coat is gone. Fingers curling around your arms, wrapping around them tightly. Floyd always had a good grip, but this felt a little too firm to be anything friendly.

His chin digs into your shoulder, bone jutting against bone. You could hear his every word, whined against your ear. Almost like a petulant child, possessive of his favourite toy.

Hey, shrimpy… he missed you, y’know?

It’s been so long since you’ve stepped into his bar….

Floyd pouts and grumbles for a good long while, nuzzling closer with every word. You open your mouth, a string of excuses dancing on the very tip of your tongue. Yet before you could even say a word, his voice drops. Like a block of concrete, plunged into the depths of the deep, cold sea.

“Where have you been?”

Hey, why won’t you tell him? You weren’t at some other bar, were ya? There’s a bunch of shady guys all over town… and didn’t Floyd say you’ll be safer in here?

With him?

It seems that you aren’t truly aware of the danger that awaits you. A little shrimp drinking through the night, all alone. Hell, anyone could have their way with you, if they wanted to.

Here, he’ll prove it.

Just like that, his grip turned to steel. Fingers pressed deep into your flesh, scarlet welts blooming all over your arm. You could feel your heart sink down into the depths of your stomach, its contents already churning uneasily.

With you tightly in his grasp, Floyd’s dragging you towards the bar’s counter. Tossing you effortlessly onto a stool; not giving two hoots if you wince from the pain. His foot plants itself into the stool’s leg, kicking it forward. Letting your knees knock against the counter, the very edge of that smooth surface kneeing you in the gut.

You could feel his fingers running through your hair, seizing a few locks before yanking your head upwards. Forcing you to tilt back, baring your neck to him. A sign of submission, in the animal world.

Forced out of you, like the trembling prey you were.

Floyd wastes no time questioning you, his mismatched pupils even more eerie in the pale light.

So what place have you been frequenting, huh? Do they serve better drinks then him? Are they sooo much more nicer then Floyd?

Shoving you brashly, Floyd has your chin banging against the counter as he stretches over your form. Chest pressing against your back, his manic heartbeat pounding into your body. All you could feel was the cold. His touch froze your very soul, translucent frost creeping over every corner of your flesh.

From the corner of your eye, you could see a bottle of some sort in Floyd’s hand. The words on the label dancing around in your blurry vision. Some spirit or another, but definitely not the one you usually order.

Floyd leans over you, meeting your eyes. The ghost of a smirk danced around his lips, razor-sharp canines peeking out in a smile. A smile so sinister that it could only be described as deranged.

You two share that moment of silence, your lips desperately parting. The start of a plea perhaps? Begging for Floyd to just let you go, to just release his hold on you, to just let you god-damn breathe for one second-

Before you could even muster up one word, Floyd’s forcing the nozzle into your mouth. Tipping the bottle over, letting its contents surge into your throat like a fire hose on full blast. The alcohol sting your throat, burnt every single nook and cranny it could reach. The bitterness making you splutter and gag. The mere strength of it so much more than what you would trust yourself to take-

Despite your frenzied movements, Floyd only laughs in glee. Tipping the bottle further, forcing everything down your throat.

Better drink it all up, Shrimpy!

Don’t you dare spill a single drop.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere floyd x reader #yandere floyd leech x reader #yandere floyd #yandere floyd leech #Floyd x reader #Floyd #Floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #protection potion♦️

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ceruleancattail · 11 months

Text

All For You

Stray Cat Au

Yandere Floyd x reader

Tw: gore, death, blood. Floyd killed a man what can I even say?

The light was on.

Ember hues flickering from within your home, taunting you from the windows. The door was slightly ajar, swaying ever so slightly with the breeze. The hinges creak, screaming out their warnings.

Run. Leave. Danger.

Raising a trembling hand, you silently slip your gun out of its leather holster. Clammy fingers gripping the bullet case, thrusting it in. A sharp click echoed through the hallway, gun loaded. Holding it at attention, you slide in, thumb on the safety. Ready to fire at will.

Creeping into your flat, footfalls as silent as a cat’s. A rancid stench filled your nostrils. A metallic scent, stinging every crevice of your nose like a thousand needles. The slight acidity of vomit, along with the reek of ammonia.

You’ve smelt it before. Especially victims of rather… violent crimes. Whatever was left of their bodies lay slumped on the ground, skin still warm with life. Glassy eyes wide open, pupils dilated in fear. That stench would linger, long after the victim was removed from the scene. You’ve grown familiar with it, the smell of fear.

For all you’ve experienced, you would have never thought you’ll smell that same stench in your home. Slowly edging towards the living room, feet treading on the floorboards gingery. One wrong move, one misstep, and you risk having a bullet imbedding itself in your skull.

How ironic would that be. The detective, murdered.

Gritting your teeth, your shoulders tensed. Charging towards the door, shoulder bashing against the wood. It throbbed, muscles clawing at your skin, hollering in pain. Biting back a curse, you hold your weapon in front of you, finger tight on the trigger.

A pair of mismatched eyes met yours.

A startling yellow, the shimmer of pure gold.

A ebony black, darker then the night’s shadow.

Strands of ink black hair fell from his left, curling under his chin. A earring, hung loosely from his ear. Diamonds, jiggling together like some wind chime.

A laugh, before he stretches his arms out. An inviting gesture, meant to put you at ease.

It would have, if not for the crimson specks littering his face. His hands were bare, drops of scarlet dripping from his arms onto the floor. A blazer was discarded at your feet, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows for greater movability.

A corpse lay on your couch, its face pummelled into a pulp. That was the best looking part of it. The rest of his body was demolished into an unrecognisable mess. Flesh gouged out, its chest treated like a pin cushion, with gaping holes scattered across it.

It looked like a wild animal mauled this corpse, with the sheer ferocity it was disembowelled with. The man stood behind the corpse, beaming at you.

“You’re finally back, Shrimpy!”

Floyd Leech. He was… employed by a client you’ve worked with awhile back. The Octavinelle agency. A rather shady business, if you do say so yourself. Yet they’re remarkably adept at dancing around the law.

There was never enough evidence to convict them for anything. Well, until today, that is. The evidence was laid bare on your couch, big black flies already swarming over it.

Your grip tightens, the leather guard biting deep into your palm. Blinking rapidly, you turn the gun towards Floyd. Aiming for his chest. A tremble surges through your arms, shaking them like a leaf in a hurricane. Sweat slicked your fingers, slipping over the trigger.

Floyd only laughs. A boyish sound, dripping with malice. Hands reaching for the corpse’s wrist, he dangles it. Making the poor victim “wave” towards you.

A growl slips pass your lips.

“Stop that.”

A pout, lower lip jutting out ever so slightly. Leaning onto the back of the couch, Floyd whines. Drawling out each and every one of his words.

“You’re no fun, shrimpy.”

You jerk your head in the direction of the body, trying not to retch from the stink.

“Who was that?”

His eyes light up, a certain sinister light brewing within his pupils.

“He’s your latest target!”

A vague recollection of your recent case flashes across your mind. An elusive thief, rather skilled in trickery. You’ve been burning the midnight oil, trying to capture that criminal.

Now, here he was. Dead, in your living room.

A brisk pace. Floyd strides towards you, a dastardly smirk playing on his lips. You raise the gun a little higher, eyes glaring daggers into his. His lips twitched, clearly amused by your little weapon.

Floyd stops right in front of the barrel of your gun, the metal pressing into his chest. With the flick of his wrist, you’re quickly disarmed. Your gun clatters, hitting the floor. Aiming a swift kick, Floyd has your gun skidding across your floor, disappearing under a cabinet.

Heart thumping wildly, trashing against your ribcage. An attempt to free itself from its prison of bone. Your glance flickers from the left to the right, trying to formulate an escape plan. Yet your thoughts were disjointed, fragments of coherent sentences.

Run.

Leave.

Danger.

A palm reaches for your face, clotted with blood. The liquid sticks to your skin, branding you a crimson red. The same colour of the blush on his face. It bloomed across his cheeks. Such a ghastly colour.

Forcing a breath down your lungs, you stared into Floyd’s eyes as firmly as you could. A futile hope that he wouldn’t see how terribly your fingers shook.

He was close.

Too close.

“Why?”

You ask.

Floyd raises an eyebrow.

“I was bored. You were spending all your time on one petty thief.”

His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer. Fingers tightening around your cheek, red streaks blooming across your skin. His nails dig into your flesh, crescents of crimson pressed deep into your skin.

A marking.

A warning.

“You didn’t even drop by the Mostro Lounge… I was so lonely, Shrimpy.”

His voice drops. A gravelly deep tone, that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“So I took care of it.”

Beads of blood pool on your cheek, his nails going a little too far. You squeeze your eyes shut, wincing at the sting. Another husky chuckle from Floyd, before you feel his breath wafts against your lips.

Something warm and wet was pressed onto your face. Floyd’s tongue, lapping the blood off your face. The way he licked was obscene, dragging his tongue tantalisingly slowly. Goosebumps flared up, running down your arms.

Your hands reach for his shirt, clutching it with all the strength you could muster. Flustered words spill out of your mouth, begging for him to stop, to just leave you alone-

He only laughs, scratching at your eardrums like metal striking metal.

Floyd’s put in so much effort just to help you out.

He deserves some… quality time with his favourite little detective, no? After all, he’s done so much for you.

You can’t refuse him.

You won’t.

Right, Shrimpy?

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