Yandere Toons x Reader: An Anthology of Headcanons and Scenarios

Mephisto Pheles & Amaimon (Platonic Scenario - "The Narrow Gate")

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Letting your back slump against the door, you pressed a hand to your steaming forehead and winced at the ache that was popping like razors across your nerves. It was when the emptiness of your stomach swelled to a dull pain that you realized you could not remember the taste of your last meal or the last time a drop of water had eased your parched throat.

A binder of contract agreements was teetering on your raised forearm and the hand that curled around its side, and the thick bundles of documents inside it shuffled.

The weight of the binder seemed to grow every minute despite having papers taken out of it. Regret over accepting the job and finding yourself where you did in life stewed in your mind like a soup that was never ready, but you dismissed these thoughts as the usual negativity that came with a lack of sleep.

After blowing a sigh into the quiet air of the dark hall, you were somewhat jolted out of your weary state by a lone footstep in the adjacent corridor.

It resounded from just around the corner, the ensuing silence failing to hide the secondary clicks and taps along the wall. The darkness that surrounded you was devoid of any light, and the inky black played tricks on your sleep-deprived mind by teasing humanoid shapes and flashes of movement. The ceiling creaked as if burdened with an unexpected weight.

You cursed the human need to blink for fear that your tired brain would interpret closing your eyes for any amount of time as an opportunity to fall asleep. A downward glance proved that the cold tile floors were no place to lay your head, promising to bust your skull like a lead pipe if you hit them in a spell of drowsiness.

Hesitating to breathe and risk missing a noise, you tucked the binder into the space between your arm and chest and began marching down the hall in the opposite direction.

The destination of your trek meandered from the nearest classrooms to Mephisto's room to your car far away in a parking lot. It fluctuated with each sound that troubled your ears as the safety and accessibility of every option came under doubt, for the noises on the ceiling were growing faster and more determined to close the distance.

The addition of stairs to the chase provided a meagre degree of relief, one that surged to horror when the sound of intermittent thuds followed your frantic strides as if someone was hopping down four or five steps at a time.

The bells had rung hours earlier and sent home every student and teacher except for a small handful. Once the silvery glow of the moon shone through a window at the end of the hall, you dared not look over your shoulder despite hearing an explosion of manic laughter at the foot of the stairs.

It was brimming with enthusiasm like a child playing a fun game, and the thuds of hands and feet smacking the ground proceeded to gain an abnormal amount of speed.

At a car's length away, the thuds were replaced by a rush of wind.

You ducked into a classroom next to the window, which shattered into a wave of jagged glass as a large figure crashed through it.

“Wee!” A squeal of joy ravaged the peace of the campus and echoed in the windy air. It was silenced by a green and brown shape plummeting from the third floor into the soil and rolling forward before easing to a stop.

Amaimon lifted his head, dirt in his mouth and arms outstretched to enjoy the whips of the wind against his limbs. Glass shards sprinkled the earth beside him, but he jumped up with indefatigable haste and lunged at the wall of the academy.

The heels of his boots scraped the rough texture and kicked bits of stone to the ground. His fingernails, long and sturdy, dug into the crevices and propelled him towards the broken window.