Welcome to Tyki's hell and thank you for your patronage.

It began as a seed of an idea that devolves into madness. One that I'm happy to share with you. The story is going to be a mix collection and anthology of stories about different OCs hijacking the bodies of DGM characters and most of them aren't taking it well. Expect a lot of sobbing, crazy antics and lots of food binging as they tries to keep in character but things don't work out well. The remaining canon characters would've to deal with the consequences.

Expect lots of crack. Either way, it would be a fun read.

Onto our first victim, Sheril the Shrieker! (psst! Although if I'm being honest, Tyki suffers much more)

The Shrilling Adventures of Sheril

- The First Shriek -

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."

- Lewis Caroll, Alice in Wonderland

They say patience was a virtue but Sheril had had enough.

His entire body seem to shake as he stared at the wall littered with bullet holes, the twins snickering behind him. He had just repaired it too. In the morning, it had been pristine, shinning even but now, it looked like the wall of any other peasant's house. And the worst part, he was going to have guests over. Oh the travesty, his fists tightened, shaking and with a glare and rising curly hairs of anger, he turned towards them. They're not going to get away this time.

He turned, they caught his look but the smirks and maniacal laughter on their faces only grew. "Get back here!" They ran and he gave chase. And without reservations, they even dared to shoot bullets at him. Sheril gracefully dodges, stray bullets hitting the akuma servants behind him, exploding into dust. Now they got his house dirty too. They're gonna pay!

"You! I will get you two!"

It was a moment of inattention and it was his downfall. His foot got caught in the running rug, hurtling him forward. He threw his arms out to save himself but there was nowhere to go except screeching forward. Sheril rammed into the silver tray, dropping to the ground like a clapped fly, the resounding thud echoing throughout the mansion.

"What was that?" Tricia wondered from the floor below as the chandelier rattled. She stared at the ceiling for a moment before smiling and turning back to her guest, "It's probably nothing."

The twins cackled, laughing and pointing at the fallen man, a bump forming on his forehead. The moment had been perfectly captured and replayed in their mind, bringing about burst after burst of laughter and high mockery. Road wandered by, excited by the raucous ruckus. It was high time she had something fun to do. She was getting more than a little bored. She knelt looking down at Sheril, "Is he alright?"

"He'd be fine." Tyki sighed from the nearby chair, returning his gaze to his book. But try as he might, he couldn't concentrate. The twin's laughter were like wild hyenas against his ears. He sunk deeper in his seat. What wouldn't he do to get a moment of peace around here.

Road poke at Sheril's cheek, "He's not moving, Tyki."

"I'm sure he's fine." As annoying of a person his brother was, he was sure that a little bump on the head wasn't going to harm him. If only he knew how wrong he was.

It was another late night of work. She couldn't help but to sigh to herself as she gazed out into the empty office where only a few cubicles were left and with every minute that passes, a couple people leaves and the office feels even more desolate. "I finally finished," She whispers to herself, relief palpable against her tongue. Finally, she could go home and sleep. Saving the files, she pulled out her pendrive, slipping it into her bag. Gulping down the last vestige of her coffee, she threw the paper cup into her trash, grabbed her jacket and headed to the elevator.

It descended painfully slow that she nearly nod off. The ding of the elevator echoed and she snapped awake, seeing the doorman and security guard nod at her and bid her a good day. She returns the sentiment out of politeness. To her, it was a long day but hopefully tomorrow would be a better one.

The door parted for her, cold winds biting at her skin. She shivers but took a step forward, braving the elements. It was cold, even her jacket was not enough to stave away the winter frost. But she pushed on. Anything to get to her bed and some hot chocolate!

Unfortunately in her haste and the thick hazy snow, she couldn't see where she was going and slammed headfirst into the lamppost. That's gonna leave a mark in the morning…that is if I didn't freeze first…was the last thought running through her mind as she fell backwards into the embrace of the pavement.

What a night to be alive.

She was floating in darkness, for how long she didn't know. But the dark grew lighter and lighter and warmth reached her fingertips. Sleepiness and disorientation grasped her as she feel her thoughts were gently tugged away from her and she tried to fight but eventually surrendered.

When she finally came to, there was something really, really odd. The bed under her was soft and she curled in deeper into the sheets, feeling strangely rested…more than she had for a long time. There were soft sounds of footsteps and voices calling for her to wake up but she groaned, refusing and rolling over, mumbling for five more minutes. After all, when will she ever get to sleep in such a soft bed again?

She dozed off, over and over again, each time wanting to wake up but eyelids lay heavily down. Warmth streamed against her face almost like sunlight. That's strange, it should be in the middle of winter now. She peeked open her eyes, blearily looking up seeing long cloths hanging over the frame of the bed. It was garish, old fashioned…a horribly terrible colour. Who had such horrible taste in this day and age?

She sat up, feeling her head throb. What happened? Where am I? Wait. She froze, hands reaching up quickly petting her chest and her but, moving in circles, a frown forming on her face. Why was it so flat? She looked down, taking in the sight of her now skinny arms and down to the long fingers. Her eyes widen, sleep driven away like she had been splashed with Arctic water. These aren't mine.

Shooting up to her feet, a long curl of dark her entered her vision and her heart start hammering. Dark hair? She was no brunette. "Mirror, mirror, mirror!" She rushed around, tripping over herself and crashing to the ground. Pain jolted up the joints of my body and I hissed, pushing myself up.

"Master Sheril," A maid knocked, entering the door, "Are you alright?"

No! She was in pain and she had no idea what had happened to her body. Her mind whirred as she registered her words. Did she say Sheril? Knocking over vases as she rushed to the dressing table, squeezing her eyes shut, afraid to look.

She took one look into her reflection and screamed, fear becoming horror, horror becoming disbelief and finally devolved into bawls like a newly born child. She sniffed, taking another peek and started crying again. She was hideous.

Of all the people that she could've been reborn as, it has to be this slimy ass seaweed head with a nasty attitude and nasty personality? Why couldn't it be someone pretty like Cross or Klaud. Heck, she would even rather be Tiedoll! She catches her reflection or rather his reflection and rebellion flashed in her eyes.

"I refuse!" She threw the sheet over the mirror and pushing the potted cactus off the table with extra dose of pettiness. If that's Sheril favourite potted plant, he can go and suck it.

But even that small moment of rebellion didn't last long as eyes flooded with tears again. She sank to the ground in despair. She has the right to cry, there's no shame in crying…she tries to tell herself. Anyone would despair waking up as Shriek-ril Kamelot of all people. But she's now him and he was an enigma. She didn't even know where to start with him; A egomaniac with a playhouse problem and that was all that she knew about him. Oh how would I survive?

"Sheril dear, are you alright?" She turned and through the film of tears made out the figure of a woman standing at the door. Not-Sheril wiped her tears, eyes widening as the woman entered with almost glowing light like an angel descending from heaven. She looked around, even her countenance was gentle and beautiful "Oh my, what a mess. I'll get someone to clean it up."

She was about to leave when she caught the strangely vulnerable expression on her husband's face. She approached, soft tiny steps that barely echoed off the floorboards, reaching out with concern, "Is everything alright?

Not-Sheril threw her arms around the woman, sobbing into her shoulder. "What's the matter with you today?" Her gentle voice led to her having to sob more hysterically. Tricia wrapped her arms gently around her and drew circles on his back, "There, there." Not-Sheril continues sobbing.

At least I have a cute wife.

"What do you need, darling?"

There's only one thing that can make it all better now, "Chocolates, steaks and your company?"

At the Noah family dinner, all the seats of the table were nearly filled except one. Tyki peered at the empty chair near the head of the table by the Earl where Sheril normally sat. Guess he was still feeling under the weather. The Earl sat at the head of the table, disjointed conversation arose from each side of the table but eventually, it returned to the oddity that was the patriach of the Kamelot family. As much as they would argue and shout, they would all agree on one thing : Something was seriously wrong with Sheril.

"Drink and eat, that's all he ever seems to do now," The Earl clasped his hands together and tutted. Oh what happened to his dear Sheril. He had been always eager to surpass his expectations but he was like a different man now.

"He's no fun," Road flicked her fork, "Play with me Tyki."

"Not now, Road. We're having dinner." Anything to get a little time away from her playtime.

"Tyki-pon, I have a job for you." He had a feeling that he wouldn't like it. But if the Earl orders so, he would follow. "Talk to your brother, will you?" Except that one.

"Tyki-pon, he would surely listen to you."

He highly doubts that. Sheril never listened to anyone. Though, he guessed that the Earl had cause to worry. One time he had found Sheril in the kitchen stuffing his face full of lettuce using his bare hand no less, looking more like a deranged rabbit than a man, The older man had froze, looking at with wide eyes like a bandit caught in the act.

"Mmmm! Mhmmm!" He masticated, chewing it down, bits of lettuce flying all over, "Tyki, this is-" Something about wanting to diet after binging on all the chocolate and steaks. He didn't wait, closing the door and backing away, pretending that he had not seen a thing. Until this day, he was convinced that it was a fever dream.

Even the twins made him cry. Even more than that, he had been muttering stuff to himself, something about a seaweed head monster. He had to wonder if his brother was on his period or something or if men can even have periods?

"Oh come on, Tyki."

They gave him pleading looks and he sighed. Guess he had no choice. Setting down his book, he stood up in full swing. He sure wasn't looking forward to this. Walking through the hallways to the dining hall, he could already hear the wails that echoed throughout the walls. It's his brother's voice, no doubt. He recognised that shrill ringing sound anywhere. The akuma servants bowed to him as he passed by but he paid them no mind.

He opened the doors and what awaiting was the most disturbing sight; Sheril hunched over and weeping on the table, tears staining the tablecloth that was usually immaculate to perfection and his brother was stuffing his face full off chocolate, tossing the empty box away and ripping the ribbon off the new one. He blanched as his brother that was usually so put together sobbed as he wiped his chocolate covered lips on his sleeve, smearing the white material. That be a pain to wash out later. And in one swift movement reached out for the wine bottle. He wouldn't. And without hesitation, poured it into his mouth. He did. Tyki watched as red wines dripped down the edge of his brother's lips, staining the collar and the tablecloth.

Never in his life he had seen his brother act like this.

"Oh, hewooo Tyki," He said in between of chocolates, cheeks expanded like a chipmunk overstuffed with acorns. It was far from a pretty picture and all too surreal to him. Tyki wasn't even sure he want to enter now. He was pretty sure that the doorway was the safest place but then the Earl's order echoed in his mind. He has no choice. He took a step in, closing the door behind him, assuring himself that if this squirrel of a man tried to eat his fingers, he would phase out of here.

"Is there something wrong?" He felt odd, asking such a question to Sheril. If it was any other day, the man would've glared at him and asked what kind of question is that or proudly declared that there was no such thing as something wrong because Sheril was Sheril and perfection was in his blood. He had always found him more than a little stuffy and domineering but now staring at the person in front of him, he was starting to miss normal Sheril a bit more.

"You're lucky you're so beautiful, Tyki-dear," Sheril poured himself another glass of wine, "So lucky." Tyki stared. Where was he going with this? "I'm hideous!" He moaned into his arm, slamming his fist onto the table and knocking off the bottle of wine, "Oh how I wish I look half as pretty as you!"

His brother has always been obsessed with looks, criticising the way Tyki chooses to carry himself but have always been open about Tyki protecting his beauty. But this was new. This was unknown territory and not included in any chapters of how to care for your eccentric brother, not that Tyki would ever read such a book but looking at the sobbing mess of a man, he couldn't help to wonder if he should start.

He sighed. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

He reaches out, pulling away the wine glass from the sobbing man and pulling his arm over his shoulder and lifting him to his feet. Was it him or was Sheril getting heavier?

"You're getting a little pudgy." Tyki froze, realising his mistake as Sheril flashed him hurt covered eyes.

"Pudgy?" The tears seemed to grow as the seaweed hair man gave a dramatic cry, "I'm not fat! I'm already ugly, the last thing I need is to be fat!" And he whines, the high pitched sound sent Tyki covering his ears. How much of this can he take?

"Fine, fine, I was wrong. You're always beautiful. Not fat at all," Tyki wasn't even sure why he was comforting his brother.

The whining stopped and Sheril looked up at him with watery eyes, "Really?"

"Really."

"Okay."

"You're such a good boy, Tyki."

He was quite sure that his brother was losing it. He'd only hope that it wasn't contagious.

Edit 01 (23.4.2019) Changed some A/N's and clean it up a bit to reflect the story a bit more. Changed title and blurb as well since I was half asleep when I worked on it.

This is only going to be the start of Tyki's problems. And I'm only getting started. *rubs hands together as OC in Sheril's body weeps more* If she doesn't like his looks, imagine if she remembers that Sheril is practically the Prime Minister of a country? Tyki is going to have a handful with this one.

Yule.