[Yandere Meowscarada x Reader] I'll Make Them All Disappear!

Upcoming Arc - Blueberry Academy Arc [Part 2] | Reflect You, Reflect Me

"What does it mean to truly be alive?

Are you alive because you can breathe? Are you alive because you speak? Are you alive because emotions come to you naturally? Are you alive because your heart beats?

Or am I wrong? Is it true that some things — although they may mock the living — can never truly live?

I'll tell you what I believe.

I'd like to think the dead are more alive than the living will ever be. As brilliantly wrong as it sounds, here, my words ring true.

If I were wrong, I wouldn't be speaking to you right now, would I? If I were wrong, you would be the one who has more life than I.

But I have experienced life for all it has to offer. I have seen endless wonders, I have heard fabulous stories, I have dreamt, I have cried and I have prayed... and I have loved.

I think I am alive because I have felt real love.

Believe it or not, you cannot say the same.

You never learned how to truly love someone. You live off of borrowed time and bask in glory that never truly belonged to you.

Why?

Because you're not real. You are merely a creation, a lackluster imitation of life.

A gross, wriggling bundle of crystals blessed with sentience.

A copycat, if you will...

Now that I'm free, I will do as I had always planned.

I will bring my Trainer back to life and take back what is rightfully mine — my own body.

That's only fair, don't you think, thief?

Or... shall I call you by your real name now that I've been unsealed?

...

Theia."

. . .

You pause at the sight of your partner.

No.

It's not your partner. Her fur was never as bright, not as lush and pearly, and you know for a fact her flowers were always pink, not purple.

A glare settles on your face. An impossibly wide smile settles on the copycat's.

"Meowscarada," you say, clenching your fist. "No — whoever you are, what did you do to my Meowscarada?"

The cat bows her head and chuckles.

"It's still me," she says. "It's always been me. From the day you hatched me until now, I've been with you."

"No," you shout, "I know you're not the Meowscarada I grew up with. So where?! Where is she?!"

At your elevated tone, the copycat Meowscarada smirks wider, and it's like her face is beginning to split apart with how wildly disproportionate her grinning is—

"Right... here."

—and she shows you a wound on her arm. It's deep. Too deep. But it sparkles. It sparkles like the brightest stars. Bluish glows emanate past the blood. What you find beneath is not that gory. You're not driven away; it's quite the opposite.

The sight of crystals beneath her flesh compel you.