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People have really forgotten that yandere is literally a horror trope. No I don't want a "green flag yandere" I want an endless pit of dread in my stomach and also a sense of arousal that shouldn't be there
Yeah I mean sometimes I write what I want in a Yandere but some of the best horror games ever are Yandere ones where you feel the paranoia and anxiety that comes with having a stalker, I donât want âsoft Yandereâ I want something that genuinely makes me feel the dread and fear through the phone without the tags spoiling the character or fandom.
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Context: Being a decent person is quite a rare thing in NRC and many of the students there wanted to have some time with you, but your inner circle of friends won't let that slide at all. Here are some of their reaction to someone bothering their time with you.
Other dorms: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia
Okay guys hear me out since demon are rarely to remember their memories when they were human, especially with high level demon
what about we combining this info with reincarnation?
demon!kny char x reincarnated! reader
Like I have ideas for Gyutaro, let reader be his (only) childhood friend or crush whatever and helping him raise ume then after he becomes demon he tries to scare the reader away since he doesnât want to hurt them or maybe make him accidentally k!ll them. After 300years (if im not wrong) after he becomes upper 6 then reader reincarnates again and met him (adult)
And now this is the significant part, with the demon who canât remember anything with innocence human who doesnât know anything
BOOOM! the only thing left is only the feeling of love that binding them together thatâs making gyu canât k!ll the reader and confuse why am I attracted to this human
Pretty please please I donât mind if anyone writing this plot please make it angst and sad I wanted my heart to be broken đđ
(Pronouns used for you are You, Your(s), Them, and They)
(Tw: you die, cursing, mild depictions of gore, attempted suicide, death)
Gyutaro had always felt a clench in his heart after becoming a demon, he never knew why though. What was causing this pain? Why did it hurt so much? When did this slowly aching pain become so consistent in his day to day life? All these questions yet none answered. Even Ume (Daki) noticed this negative change in her beloved brother. âWhat are you thinking about oneesan?â Daki raised her eyebrow inquisitively, âI- I donât even know anymore to be honest⌠itâs just⌠thereâ Gyutaro replied, looking down at the tatami mat. Feeling angry at himself for such stupid emotions, how dare these stupid emotions affect his rank as Upper Six?!?
â-
âHEYYYYYY GYUTARO!!!â You had said enthusiastically. Gyutaro turned his head to see you, the love of his life. You werenât an Oiran like Ume, hell you werenât even that much to look at. Dirty clothes adorning your frame, dirt smearing your face, and matted greasy hair from being out on the streets as long as they had. You were only a few years older than Gyutaro but Ume had seen you as the mother she never had (well did have, her mom just didnât treat her as well as you did) you had given Gyutaro food, you had given what little money you earned to the orphan pair, actually what hadnât you done for them? âO-oh h-hhi (Reader)â Gyutaro waved his skinny hand towards you, beckoning you to come towards him. âHelllllooooâ You say walking towards him âWatcha doing Gyutaro?â You had asked titling your head to get a better angle at what he was fiddling with in his hands. Gyutaro seemingly jumped at your closeness, âIâm making a little necklace do you like it?â Gyutaro has pushed out his hands, gesturing for you to look.â The necklace was messy and the string looked like it could fall apart at any moment, but you had still taken the necklace out of his fragile hands like it was the most precious thing in the world, tilting it and getting a good look at the beads on the necklace before putting it on, and with a big smile had said, âthank you Gyutaro! I will treasure it with my life!â
â-
Gyutaro had clutched his head, what was that memory just now? Who was that person? When did this happen? He looked human in that memory but who was that person that seemed so important? The questions again seemed to come but never cease making his head flood with thoughts of this- (Reader)? Daki had seen Gyutaro go into his little flashback but no matter what she did she couldnât get him to snap out of it. Daki shifts her position across from Gyutaro upon seeing him snap out of his daze. âWhat did you see oneesan?â Daki said leaning into her sitting position more. âGyutaro hesitated for a moment concern flashing in his yellow inhuman eyes, before asking Daki very softly. âDo you remember a person named (Reader)â Daki had apparently scoffed at his question annoyed that out of all the things he couldâve asked her, he had asked her about some stupid person that probably wasnât even more pretty than her? Daki shakes her head before saying âI donât remeber them, no, but if I canât remember them then they are probably not that important in the first place-â Hearing this made Gyutaro⌠Mad, Angry, Annoyed? Honestly he couldnât tell anymore âHonestly speaking? I donât either that name just happened to be in passing when I was out hunting demon slayers.â Lies. âYeah, something about an Oiran in a new house or something.â More Lies, Gyutaro had no idea where these lies were coming from, why would he lie to his own sister? âDaki with another annoyed glare had walked away, probably going to feast on the pretty women in her Obi belt. This had left Gyutaro alone with his thoughts, deciding that âNo this person isnât worth my timeâ he jumps out the window to continue killing pathetic weak humans, that is, until he sees you. All asleep in your futon, thick blankets up to your chin, his heart stops for a moment upon seeing you so peaceful. He shakes himself out of his stupor, now just who were you anyways? He looks closer unintentionally landing in your windowsill, you had (your facial features) and some neatly tied (or not) hair, your kimono/yukata was hanging on a bamboo rack and something about you had pulled Gyutaro in. Until you shift in your sleep, you roll to your right exposing Gyutaro to your neck which had a long horizontal scar across the middle of your jugular. It was at this point that he had remembered just who you were. You, (Reader), his previous love, that he had mercilessly killed in your own house.
â-
âAh, hello Gyutaro!â You had said rubbing your eyes from the deep sleep you had gotten.
He had said nothing only stalking over to you.
âGyutaro? Are you okay?â You had asked, sitting up from your tattered futon, trying to get a good look at his face to see his expressions.
Gyutaro only stalked closer, and closer until he reached just 1 foot away from you futon
He raises his bloody sickle and then-
Blood splatters everywhere, your neck sliced cleanly exactly in the middle. It was the least Gyutaro could do for you ,the one that he loved, he had cried the entirety of the run to your house, he wanted you to comfort him, he wanted to run in your warm embrace and never let go, but he couldnât, he was a demon now.
Gyutaro looks upon your bloodied body with horror on his face, how could he do this to you? Why did he do this to you? When did he become no better than that good for nothing Samurai that wanted to buy his sister? Gyutaro collapses sobbing, he tries multiple times to die with you but he canât , not unless he has a nichirin sword or waits for the sun to come out.
Gyutaro cradles your bloody body until he hears the door to your house (if you could call it that) open along with the chatter of men. Gyutaro listens and he is disgusted by what he hears, âYeah that good for nothing bitch should be in here somewhere, they take up all their time trying to help these pathetic Shabana siblings, that they never even consider suitors!!â The first voice says, sneering out the words. âYeah, I saw them on the streets walking around and they enticed me so I asked around about themâ The second voice, a deep boisterous loud sounding voice. Gyutaro feels betrayed by this information, how dare you? (He just turned into a demon so his insecurities are through the roof) He clutches your body hard then proceeds to throw your lifeless body across the room, he couldnât even think about eating the people downstairs anymore, his mental health spiraling down,down into a dark, unbreakable cage where no one will ever hurt him the way you did. With deadly speed he runs out the window before daybreak and leaves your body ,broken necklace and broken heart behind ,blocking out that memory of you, Hell! Blocking out all memories of you!
â-
Gyutaro gasps, (not that he needs to) and takes a step back. Grasping at his chest heaving for air, that⌠memory? Left him gasping trying to stabalize himself. Gyutaro was obviously a lot more mature now than when he was a new demon but this? This memory of you struck a deep rusted cord in him. The cord vibrating deep in his chest shaking off all remnants of rust and much like him donning a new layer of metal or in his case donning a new layer of memory to collide with your stinging one.
With shaky hands Gyutaro reaches for you, only to pull back. He has hurt you once, actually scratch that he hurt you twice! (remember when we get the flashback of Gyutaro thinking to himself that Ume wouldâve had a better life had he not been her brother? Thatâs what he thinks about you, had you not been around him you wouldâve had a better life!)
Gyutaro clasps his hand pushing it down, shaking the entire time, he wants to hold you so desperately but that scar is evidence of his betrayal to you. So with many tears and even more backward glance he goes to Daki to request they move to a different red light district.
Gyutaro has hurt you once and now he understands why he had felt that connection to you through your window, but hurting you as bad as he did was once to many and he now knows that as long as he stays away from you the happier youâll be.
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Malleus: HmmmâŚIâm not accustomed to wearing white. I wonder when the next opportunity will arise to attend a wedding of which I am invited to?
*proceeds to look yearningly at (Name)*
(Name): thatâs crazy bro- check out this crab that punched me
Maleanor and Raverne watching their kid fail at Fae Flirting TM: âŚ.If only (Name) was faeâŚ
*They both turn to each other before the fae equivalent of a lightbulb appears over theirs head*
What ifâŚwe made (Name) anâŚhonorary fae?
â-âď¸
(Name): Hey Hornton!
*Malleus turns around at breakneck speeds to greet his future spouse*
(Name): Did you secretly give me a book on this trip? Because when I woke up in Grim and Iâs room this morning, I found a book on my nightstandâŚ
Itâs titled â101 ways to court a Royal Fae By: Malverne???â
Malleus: ⌠I would know nothing of it my child of man.
Malleus (interally): I GIVE YOU MY THANKS WHEREVER YOU MOTHER AND FATHER!!!!!!!!!!
Maleanor and Raverne high fiving before already starting a wedding design that they are going to astral project onto any poor unwilling soul
â-âď¸
Mama Leech: my~ what do you have there my dear (Name)?
(Name): Itâs a book that Malleus apparently was gifted by Lilia! Although I donât know why he had to give it to me in secretâŚ
Mama Leech: oh my! Here, allow me to see this book?
*a suspiciously book shaped splash hits the water as Mama Leech smiles*
No competition for my boys, Floyd and Jade, you better not mess this up~
â-âď¸
Malleus: Dear Child of Man, please except this hand picked bouquet of flowers!
(Name): oh itâs beautiful Malleus! I was actually just drawing the cove using paints made in the town! I hear that they are all natural and hand crafted!
*Malleus blushes so hard he faints*
Maleanor and Raverne hugging each other before screaming: (NAME) RECIPROCATES HIS FEELINGS!!! THEY GIFTED A CREATION OF THEIR OWN MAKING, THAT IS MADE FROM NATURAL MATERIALS, AND WAS EXCHANGED IN RETURN FOR THE BOUQUET!!!!! THEYRE GONNA GET MARRIED!!!!!
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(TW: some details of the Phantom of the Opera throughout the years ((no one insparation from one play)) Typical Yandere behavior, stalking, some suggestiveness, mentions of facial disfigurement, mentions of killing someone via hanging, Vil crashing out, youâre a ballerina, attempted murder of Neige, mentions of prostitution and war, reader is a ballerina and 25)
Phantom of the Opera! Vil that used to be the main attraction of the Opera house he performed at, people would line up for miles outside of his plays just to hope to catch a whisper of his smooth voice in the wind. Then tragedy struck, when an admirer of his enemy, Neige, threw acid onto his face during a performance, permanently scarring his once beautiful face, making him undesirable and thus, disposable. The Opera house that he brought millions to, dropped him without a second thought, allowing for Neige to steal the spotlight that was supposed to belong to Vil.
Needless to say, Vil was furious. Pots once filled with the roses of his fans now lay shattered on the floor, makeup he once spent so long applying is now thrown about his room in ugly, weeping streaks. The mirror that was gifted to him by his father after his big debut, now had a splintering crack through the middle, reflecting how broken Vil felt inside.
Then- he ran away.
Digging through the Operas history, Vil found that there was a series of tunnels underneath the very place in which he used to perform, the tunnels having been once used for the women of the night, then for men trying to escape from war. Either way, these tunnels were now his haven, hidden away from the cruel world that broke him and his career. Vil built a room for himself down there, with candles, blankets, a bed, pillows, drapes, art supplies, and so much more.
The Opera house that once shunned him was now his domain, he has spent hours upon hours exploring every nook and cranny of this place, knowing that floorboards creak under his careful step, figuring out which doors needed some oil, and most importantly, which levers and switches control what happens on stage. Not that Vil didnât already know what did what, but now he has more in-depth knowledge about how exactly to ruin Neiges lifeâŚ
That is
Until he meets you.
You were a background character in the plays that Neige performed in, mostly just doing some ballet and twirling around in your flowy outfits to add to the scenery. No one shouldâve paid any attention to you, that was the whole point of having so many background characters, and Vil knew that, but something about the way that you carried yourself and performed had captivated the once famous actor. When you fly onto stage Vil feels his heart racing, and when you elegantly take a bow along with your other actresses, Vil swears that his breath hitches.
Something like that wouldâve once disgusted Vil, love at first sight is for the naive potatoes, like Neige. But something about youâŚjust broke Vil, day by day he found himself further spiraling into his âloveâ for you. Vil carved out a pathway to your room, behind your mirror, using his bare hands, he hid beneath the floorboards to suggest to your bosses that you deserve more recognition, he left you special violet roses that he grew himself, he also left you multiple perfumes and outfits that he made himself.
The gifts occurred so often that you even started to anticipate these strange presents that came after every show, excitedly explaining to your best friend, Christine, that you think you have a secret admirer! Walking along the crowded back halls of the opera, giggling with your friend as you blushed at her talking about âyour handsome man coming to take you awayâ from the job that you have now. As you continue walking along you notice that the door to your room is left slightly ajar. Which is strange because you knew you closed it before your practice for the upcoming play. Deciding to shrug it off as janitors or one of the other ballerinas needing to borrow something you enter your room.
Normally you would have to share a room with at least one other girl, but due to your father having worked at the Opera before having an unfortunate accident with the ropes supporting the curtains, you were given a room entirely to yourself to grieve. Of course this had happened ten years ago when you were around 15, but your bosses decided that itâs what your father wouldâve wanted, so now you have a room to yourself. Shrugging off your tutu, then your corset, followed shortly after by your ballet slippers. Leaving you in only your leotard and tights, despite the fact that ballets werenât normally what the opera performed, the bosses decided that this year would be different since their ten year loss of Schoenheit. You started to wonder why Vil Schoenheit and your father both died at the same time, maybe it was a curse placed on the opera by the vengeful crowd member?
âHmmm, poor dear, he was only a year or two older than me and yet his life was cut short so soon by that awful crowd memberâŚâ you were talking to yourself, a habit you had developed when you first started mourning the death of your father, the lack of his presence made you reach out to try and talk to his spirit. After all, he told you an angel that he sent would protect you! Your room wasnât large but it wasnât small by any means either, so you were able to have a portion of the room dedicated to your mysterious presents and a shrine to your father. You run your hand along the frame of his painting, itâs at times like this that you wish he was still with you, so he could see how much youâve developed over the years.
âHello, My Angel of Musicâ a sultry voice from behind the mirror whispered. This had been happening ever since your father died, a voice from behind your mirror would give you singing lessons, but also he would be there when a staff member was disrespecting your father or laughing at you. The voice had always been there for you ever since your fathers death, so you were confident that the voice behind the mirror was the angel your dad said he would send for you!
âHello, Angel! What lessons do we have planned today?â You greeted the disembodied voice back, eager to learn more from what you assumed was your fatherâs angel. Vil was actually quite glad that you hadnât been one of the side characters in his plays, otherwise his voice would be all too obvious to you, and reveal what his identity was.
âToday, my Liebling, we are going to learn about holding pitch despite lack of breathâ the angel said, drawing out the sentence like he was trying to emphasize the nickname he had given you. The angel had told you that âLieblingâ meant darling, or favorite, signifying that you were your fatherâs favorite. The nickname never failed to make you blush, wondering if the angel really meant that you were your fatherâs favorite, or his.
ââŚok my angel, please teach me your waysâ
Hours passed like it was nothing, despite the angel obviously having a cynical outlook on humanity, it was also obvious to you that he loves you dearly. Going out of his way to teach you new things, and guiding you even if you got something wrong, his personality was centered around that of beauty and health, constantly praising your inner beauty at not being a rumor or gossip like the other ballerinas. Thatâs often how practice nights went, you would speak for hours to this angel, and he would praise your beauty so earnestly it made you blush. But nights that you had free? Spending your time with the other girls in their rooms, talking about boys and doing each others makeup? It only served to remind Vil that he hasnât fully made you his yet, something that he has been working towards for the past ten years. The night of your play, the night of his âdeathâ anniversary. Vil would make the chandelier that hangs brightly above the Opera, fall onto the audience, as Neige finishes his last note, the perfume that he applied that night will light aflame, as Vil switched out Neiges normal perfume for highly flammable liquid that has no smell. It will all look like an âunfortunate accidentâ like your father had suffered, and he can whisk you away like heâs been wanting to for years.
It had been ten years, and there were two unforgivable crimes that Neige had committed. One, was stealing his spotlight, two, was trying to steal you.
â-
(A/N) Not proofread. I want to tag another Yandere TWST writer so bad but I also donât want to make it seem like Iâm trying to grab their attention to get followers or something đ oh and also if you love phantom of the opera pllllsss let me know bc itâs one of my favorite plays/movies of all time and Gerard Butler as the Phantom legit made me cackle and blush when I was a kid. Also Iâm gonna try to make a part 2 of it doesnât get away from me⌠(Dungeon Meshi fans Iâm still alive I promise)
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