#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader
Text
the birds and the bees.
yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader
cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29)
note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.
The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…
But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.
Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.
“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”
You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!
“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.
“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”
“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”
“And what was it you’re studying again?”
You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?
“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”
“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”
“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”
“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”
You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.
Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”
“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”
“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”
Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.
But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.
“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”
Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.
On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.
“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”
“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”
“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”
Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”
“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.
Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.
“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”
“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.
In other words, a scent you associate with misery.
You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.
“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.
He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”
Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.
“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”
“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”
You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly.
So stiff…
“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”
Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”
“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”
Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.
Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.
“W-What’re you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No?”
“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”
“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”
“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”
“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”
“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”
Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”
“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”
“What?! But you—”
“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”
Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.
“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”
With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.
“Sounds about right.”
“And you’re so experienced?”
You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”
“I’m not a mama’s boy!”
“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”
“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”
“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”
“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”
“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”
Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.
“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”
“R-Review? You don’t mean—”
“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.
“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”
“You can call them what they are.”
Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”
“You know the word, mama’s boy.”
He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”
“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”
He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”
You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”
“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”
“Mhm. Good job.”
He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”
“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”
Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.
“And this?”
“Your vagina. It’s where—”
“What’s the other word?”
Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”
“So what?”
“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”
“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”
Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”
“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”
It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”
You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”
“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”
“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”
“Even a rose?”
“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”
Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”
“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”
“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”
“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”
“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”
“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.
Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”
“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”
“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”
“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”
“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”
Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”
Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”
“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”
You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”
Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.
“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”
You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”
“Desperately?”
Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”
“I haven’t asked for that yet.”
You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”
“A shame.”
“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”
“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”
“Okay?”
“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”
“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”
“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”
“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”
“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”
Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.
“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”
Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”
Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”
Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”
“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”
Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.
“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”
“Lying’ll do that.”
“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she’s hired you.”
“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”
Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.
Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”
You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.
“Not bad. You’re getting there.”
His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.
“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”
“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.
You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.
His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”
The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.
“Why?”
“I… I’d like to get to know you.”
“Me?”
“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”
“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”
“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”
Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”
“You know which one.”
“You could be the one to close it.”
You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.
“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”
“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.
“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”
“What did you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”
“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”
“Oh…”
“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”
Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”
You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”
Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”
“What?”
“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”
A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”
“I have a name, you know.”
You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”
Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.
“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.
Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”
“How’s it feel?”
“Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”
“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”
Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.
“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.
The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.
“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.
Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”
“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”
Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”
“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”
“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious, places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”
“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”
“No, not that. Outside of this.”
“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”
“I…do.”
“So spend time with them.”
Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.
“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”
Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.
“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”
“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”
You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.
“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”
“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”
“Thanks, Riddle.”
Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.
In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.
The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.
“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.
He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline.
“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.
Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.
Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.
— — —
Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.
“Pardon my intrusion.”
You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”
“Is that right? I assume all went well?”
“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”
“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”
“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.
If only she knew.
“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”
“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”
You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”
“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.
Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.
It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.
— — —
From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.
A tiny smile tugs at his lips.
Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.
And you’re just perfect.
#yandere twst#yandere twst x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle x reader#yandere riddle#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#n/sfw#tw: age gap#tw: dubcon#tw: pregnancy mention
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I thought i sent it but i don't think i did though... if i did then oops sorry.
Can i request more TWIST characters who carry reader on their shoulders?
I believe you've done a fair bit of them so I'm trying to remember which ones haven't been asked about.... I think Lilia, Kalim, Jamil, Malleus, Sebek and Riddle? Those are the ones off the top of my head tbh but DON'T feel pressured to do em all. I'm fine with whatever you want to write. I'm just listing stuff for ideas. You don't have to use any of these concepts if they don't resonate.
Sitting on Their Shoulders (4) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Lilia Vanrouge
“Looking at it there’s no way we’re going to get that flag down without a stool or something.”
“Hey why not just get on my shoulders!
“What?”
“Yeah just hop up on my shoulders and grab it! You don’t want to lose the game do you?”
“...Are you sure this is the way we should be doing this? Maybe you should go on mine.”
“Pft are you underestimating me, my little bat? C’mon I can handle you I promise.”
Despite your concern Lilia practically forces you to sit
Ducking under your legs and standing up
You’ll be too busy regaining your balance to heed the moan he lets out
Too focused on the flag up high to see his eyes roll to the back of his head as you release your grip on his hair
He might toss you up claiming some lie he needs readjust his grip while squeezing your thighs together
Practically smothering him
“I got it! Okay Lilia I’m ready to come down now! Lilia. Lilia?”
“I’ve decided we should stay this way for the rest of the game!”
“What?!”
“Yup so hold on tight sweet cheeks! I need to run off all the extra energy you’ve given me!”
He really does need to run off all his excitement
Otherwise he doesn’t know he wouldn’t revert to his more violent ways should anyone break the precious skin-to-skin contact you were having
“(Y/n), I think I just found my favorite place to be!”
Riddle Rosehearts
“How about I put you on my shoulders Riddle? That way you should be able to reach the sugar and we’ll have delicious tarts in no time!”
“...I’ll lift you up.”
“But you’re a lot short—”
“I’ll do it!”
He of course had not thought of himself in such a position lies+
But having his whole face swallowed in between your thighs as he balanced your weight awakens something in him
If there is any aching he has under your weight is dissipated by the overwhelming feeling of you
You, being all around him
Him smelling you with no end in sight
He’s used to imagining and guiltily dreaming about things such as this
It finally puts his intense dictatorship guarding of your friendships
No one should ever be given this
No one but him
“Uh Riddle can we go to the right a little?”
“...”
“Riddle?..Am I too heavy?”
“NO! I apologize, I was distracted by the...heat….within this room. I’ll go to the left now.”
“Right. We need to go right!”
“Y-yes!”
#yandere x gn reader#yandere x gender neutral reader#yandere x reader#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere x you#yandere twisted wonderland#yanderes#yandere#yandere twst#yandere twst x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle x reader#yandere riddle#yandere lilia x reader#yandere lilia vanrouge#yandere lilia#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere lilia vanrouge x reader
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May i request for Yandere Riddle but Its actually Alice in wonderland? Like Riddle replaces the Queen of hearts and the reader is Alice.
Acceptance
Yandere Queen of Hearts Riddle x reader
Your back ached.
Standing stock still, spine yanked as straight as it would go. Almost like a statue, carved out of unmoving rock. He expected that of you.
Wait until you’re called upon.
Be obedient.
Today, The Queen of Hearts decided to grace you with some proper attire. You expected a delivery by one of her card soldiers, knocking some strange, bizarre rhythm into your door.
You didn’t expect he would come himself.
The clothes themselves were picture perfect. Every fold artistically arranged with a gaudy amount of bows and ribbons. Everything was ironed with a blazing hot iron. The metal gleamed a sinister ruby, pressed against the cloth until you could smell the foul, heavy stench of something charred beyond saving. The smoke choked you, silver wisps curling up from the fabric, waxing and waning hazily right before your eyes.
With all the ribbons and the fuzz, you felt like one of the Queen’s tarts.
All dolled up pretty just for a show.
The clothes were immediately thrown at you, molten flames sewn into a garment designed to pinch at all the wrong places. Stone grey eyes watched you expectedly. Waiting for your words of gratitude, perhaps?
For you to prostrate yourself before the Queen of Hearts , devotedly clutching onto the attire, tongue-tied with gratitude for his generosity. Maybe he would have liked to hear you stutter, simpering over just how wonderful he was.
It was all you could do not to hurl right there and then, staining the reds and white with the foulness of your bile. That would have been a damn better sight then all the shows the Queen… no, Riddle Rosehearts, insisted on hosting.
Grand affairs where all 52 card soldiers stood at attention, swarms of crimson and ebony parading across his estate. The grand gallows would be set up, blades polished into a steely gleam. In the golden rays of the sun, it shone with a certain grim determination.
A sharp click of tongue. Riddle was losing his patience. It would not do to dawdle, especially in front of royalty. Quickly, you sunk into a shallow bow, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered onto your face.
Arms slipping into sleeves, you did your best not to wince. The heat of the fabric stung, blazing-hot needles stabbing themselves deep into your flesh. The cloth itself dug deep into your shoulders, constraining your movements.
Much like a straitjacket. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. You were probably the last person in here who needed to be put into one. Every last soul in Twisted Wonderland was mad.
God help you, you might follow suit if this keeps up.
A round of applause. Riddle’s gloved hands clasped each other as he beamed at you. Smile as dazzling as the golden crown that adorned his head.
“You look simply ravishing, my dear.”
His arm stretched out, pinching the cloth that draped over your thigh. Instantly, your hand rushed over in attempt to preserve some of your modesty.
In the process, your fingertips brushed against his, nudging him back ever so slightly. A brief touch could be explained away with a smile and a joke. Pushing him, out of all people, away?
You could feel the anger radiating off him. The searing heat coming off his body in waves, scorching every inch of your skin. The slight tremble in his fingers as they reached for your collar, gripping firmly.
Riddle drags you forward by the throat, yanking you closer to him. Your lungs gasped, collapsing into themselves. Your chest shuddered, trying to inhale even just the slightest breath of air-
It burns.
Your throat, your nose, your mouth were all on fire, forked tongues of pain jabbing deep into your veins. Everything burnt.
With a fury like no other.
Spluttering, your hands claw at his wrist, lips moving soundlessly, desperately. Begging Riddle to release you, to let you breathe-
He finally relents, loosening his grip. Gasping, you clutch at your chest, lungs greedily sucking up whatever air they could reach. It took a few shuddering coughs before your heart stopped racing.
Even then, it still beat rather loudly in your ears. Trashing against its cage of bone, a feral beast threatening to burst right out of your chest.
Gently, something slid across the curve of your chin. A sceptre, as cold as ice. Even the slightest touch made your skin crawl, goosebumps racing up your limbs. Riddle holds it there for awhile, nudging your jaw until your eyes were forced to meet his.
Those accursed crimson irises.
Gingerly, he raises a gloved hand to his lips. Teeth biting down on the edge of the silk, he pulls it off. Discarding it somewhere onto the ground. Riddle reaches for you with his hand, now bare. Cupping your face gently, tenderly, like one would with a lover.
His eyes flickered towards yours, a silent warning.
Do not reject his touch.
Do not reject his gifts.
Do not reject him.
Or it’ll be your head rolling next.
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle#riddle x reader#yandere riddle#yandere riddle x reader#protection potion ♦️
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... Having a tea party with the prefect of Heartslabyul, but everything has gone awry.
Everything has simply been tossed aside, the sight of the maze being shredded, and even the 'treats' have been coated in blot. The students have all but fallen due to the influence of this man before you, but by some sick, twisted luck, you were left alive.
He said that he liked you: the you, with no magic to your name, who had been dropped in this world with nothing to your name. The you who had been used as a silly errand person for Crowley— that bastard crow, he would murmur— and the you, who can't help but protect those... Rule breakers.
He liked you. Sweet, little, vulnerable you.
But what's this? Why do you shake so much, darling?
He wasn't going to hurt you. Why, that would simply break one of the rules set by the Queen of Hearts! How could he think of such a thing? How prepostorous.
So why are you so scared? Why do you look at him with such fear?
Do you not see him as the ever revered prefect, the one you admire so much? Or do you see him as what his mother does, a child that was mold to be her splitting and heartless image?
He could hardly understand why you're so scared of him, but he didn't like it. He needed to reassure you, to tell you he wouldn't raise his hand to harm you.
But if you keep running away like this, darling...
... Well, he wouldn't oppose having to punish you by having your head cut off.
It is off with your head, so be good, darling.
You wouldn't want to force Riddle's hand to do such a crime, after all.
@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023
#💌 ;; message delivery#💌 ;; from: riddle rosehearts#💌 ;; to: gen. neutral reader#💌 ;; post: twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#disney twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle x reader#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#yandere riddle x reader#yandere riddle#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere#yandere writing#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios
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I really love your self-aware AU! It's awesome! Would it be okay to request some headcanons (or a snippet of something whatever makes you happiest) for self-aware Riddle and/or Malleus?
Have a great day!
-🍰Anon
I'm glad people are enjoying my AU! Shout out to @writingforatwistedworld, whose own Self-Aware AU inspired my own.
You assumed that everyone who ever played Twisted Wonderland had two things on their isekai bucket list; attending a feast at Scarabia to try Jamil’s cooking and being invited to an Unbirthday Party at Heartslabyul to try a sweet made by Trey. Now getting invited to a feast at Scarabia was ridiculously easy. One day you walked up to Kalim and shouted, “Omg, look at that cloud, it totally looks like a pony. We should have a party.” Kalim enthusiastically agreed. You worried a little that Jamil would corner you and chew you out for such blatant manipulation, but luck was with you, and he only gazed at you with interest from across the room.
In fact, so many situations in NRC seemed to just go your way that you wondered if you had some sort of “main character” protection that prevented anything from going really really wrong with your plans. If that was the case, then you reasoned, you could be bold and try to get the Red Ruler himself to invite you to an Unbirthday Party. Plus, you’d already tried to hint to Ace and Deuce about it, but Ace would only complain. “Come on, Prefect, you don’t want to hang out with all those guys. Isn’t it better when it’s just us alone?”
You did feel a little guilty about going behind your friend’s backs on this matter. Especially with how shaky the relationship was between Ace and Riddle, who always seemed locked in some eternal competition over…something…when you were around. You’d never quite worked that one out. You suppose there are just nuances to things that the old TWST game couldn’t convey. You could always feel the tension between them though, whenever you were in the room. But if you were going to betray friendship for anything, it might as well be cake.
Your opportunity came sooner than you expected. The very next day, you encountered Riddle carrying a stack of books back to the library. You felt very much like Azul when you ran up to him and offered to help him carry the load (for a price, ha ha ha) back to the library. He looks at you startled when you offer but slowly a red tint creeps into his face. You start to worry if you’ve really messed up and are about to get one of Riddle’s famous outbursts when instead he stammers in agreement. “I..I don’t really need your assistance. But…but if you’d like…I’d certainly be glad for YOUR company.” You give a sigh of relief and accept a portion of the books, you felt like you narrowly avoided a disastrous hit to your plans.
You attempted to chat him up on the way to the library, but each lighthearted question or joke was met with a short and serious response. You realized that you really didn’t understand Riddle much at all. It was like there was a difference in status you couldn’t overcome to get to where you were friends. Even after the Overblot incident (which you very reluctantly took your place in), Riddle seemed to treat you with a nervous reserve. You felt like it was the sort of relationship you’d have with your boss or a celebrity or something; like he was too afraid to be himself so he kept a façade of formality over all his interactions.
Even so, when you set the stack of books down on the librarian’s desk, you had really expected a friendly invite to the Unbirthday party next Tuesday. I mean, come on, you had helped him lug that stack of books all the way here; that had to be worth something, right? Instead, he merely looked at you and fidgeted nervously still with the slight flush in his cheeks. You wondered mildly if he was getting sick or even if he could get sick. Do game characters get sick except for random romance events? And this wasn’t even that sort of game so maybe no one gets sick here at all. You tried to remember if any of the NPC’s in your class had ever failed to attend class due to sickness but were roused from your thoughts by a small voice, “I guess I should go then.”
“NO!” you shouted, the loud sound echoing off the library walls. You wince at the volume, but Riddle hardly seems to notice, instead he looks at you wide eyed and silently. Finally, you remind yourself that you have main character energy and boldly grab his hand and announce, “You are looking like you could use some air. We should take a walk somewhere.” Then you stride off, forcing him to follow by tugging on his hand. He follows you and then quickly increases his pace to walk beside you while, surprisingly, increasing the pressure on your hand. You smile, he probably never had friends to walk with as a child. It’s been ages since you held hands with your childhood friends for a stroll, but you were happy to humor him. So, you give him a small smile and ask, “Where should we walk.”
He hesitantly suggests, “The rose maze at Heartslabyul is lovely this time of year.” You smile at him brightly and say, “What a great suggestion, I’d just LOVE to spend more time with you at Heartslabyul.” At this, he looks at you with an adorable smile and gives your hand another squeeze. Then he breathlessly remarks, “Well, well then…shall I lead the way?” And so he does, taking you deep into the rose maze. He provides some commentary on certain points of interest (the hedgehog pens, the croquet field) until you arrive at what he announces as the Tea Garden. Your breath rushes out as you lay eyes on the familiar background from your old game. If there was ever a place to lay a hint on him, this was it.
“Wow, its so beautiful here,” you begin in mock innocence, “I really wish I had more occasions to come here.” Riddle looks at you and then seems to get an idea, “Ah yes, yes! Of course, you should feel free to walk the gardens whenever you like, Prefect.” Ok, that wasn’t exactly what you were going for; time to hint harder. “Oh, but I’d be so lonely here by myself. Maybe, if there was a reason to come here with you. I confess I’d like to spend more time with you, Riddle,” finishing up your statement with a coy look. You see him mouth ‘confess’ to himself over and over, while you silently urge him to put it together and invite you to the damn Party already.
“Well…well,” he hesitantly begins, staring deep into your eyes, “if that is how you truly feel, how can I say no?” You smile radiantly at him, SUCCESS! Seeing your smile causes him to smile at you in return. He squeezes your hand once again and says in a much more confident voice, “Yes, well why not? If this is your choice, then why shouldn’t I ask you to tea? Would you please join me next week? We can have tea and I’ll help you study for your history exam.” ‘Bonus,’ you think as you heartily agree.
Only one thing bothers you when you think back on it later. Why would you study for your history exam? That exam was on Monday and the Unbirthday Party was on Tuesday. It was strange to study for the next exam the very day after taking the previous one. You just chuckle and chalk it up to being Riddle and his crazy studious nature.
All that night, Riddle lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. How had this happened? He hardly knew. The Player (THE PLAYER) had confessed their love for him and asked to join him on a date. Now technically, it was against the rules for the inhabitants of Twisted Wonderland to interact with the Player in that way, but this was one rule that even Riddle was willing to break. He couldn’t wait for Sunday to arrive and your very first date.
You remembered the first day you attended class in Twisted Wonderland. You’d been wildly excited to attend classes (about magic!) and see all the characters from your favorite game. That ended at lunch. You’d been in line, waiting for your turn to buy a sandwich, when you’d heard an unsettling voice behind you, “Hee hee, you’re so short, I’mma call you Shrimpy.” You’d turned to look over your shoulder carefully and met the mismatched eyes of Floyd Leech. Only for a moment before he smiled and all your attention belonged to those sharp, pointed teeth. It was then that you realized the appeal of a character was not the same in a game, where you were safe behind a screen, as it was in real life. In real life, a dangerous mafioso eel is actually rather intimidating to stand in front of in a line.
For that reason, you feel rather strange about the possibility that you’d one day meet Malleus Draconia. Before the Floyd incident, you’d been excited to be ‘that student’ the one who wasn’t at all afraid of him and you’d just become super friends right away. Only, now you wondered if you’d actually cower silently or join the ranks of the many nervous NPC’s that dash out of his way in the hall. You wonder how much credence to put into the mysterious aura TWST claimed for him to have.
It remained only a thought in your head until the day you turned a corner in the hall to see the infamous Diasomnia crowd coming down the other end of the hall. It was immediately obvious that, yes, Malleus had quite the ominous aura. You might have stood silently in the hall and let him turn toward the third year’s classrooms without saying a word except, you seemed to also have some strange aura as an isekai’d student. Students backing away from the imposing Diasomnia guards would suddenly become aware of you and stop, unsure of which way to turn. Before long, the entire hallway was at a stand-still. The only change was that the Diasomnia students had become aware of you and were watching with keen interest.
You cursed your fate in TWST, the game seeming to insist that you be the main character in each awkward situation; the decision of how to progress the route entirely left to your own designs. “Um,” you begin awkwardly, “How wonderful, I had been meaning to talk with you Malleus?” You cringe at how your statement ends up being more of a question than a request. It has the desired effect though; students look back and forth between you in awe and then quickly empty from the halls. In a short time, only you and the four students from Diasomnia remain.
Malleus turns curious eyes to you and enquires, “You wished to have words with me, Child of Man?” Here all your daydreams fall apart; at no time during all your earlier visions of talking to Malleus did you actually plan something to say to him. You stare at him, wide eyed and then feel your mouth open and were horrified when words emerged, “Gargoyles. I just love ‘em.” Malleus’s eyes open wide and then he smiles slightly, putting his hand to his mouth, as though pondering that deep wisdom, “Is that so?” You nod dumbly, “Oh yeah, I wish there was like a way to learn more about them…”
The way his eyes lit up in delight erased any uncertainty you had been feeling. You felt all your misgivings about him evaporate; he wasn’t the fearsome Malleus Draconia, he was your friend Tsunataro! You smiled at him and the others, genuine warmth creeping into your expression. Lilia looks back and forth between you and then smiles knowingly, “Well boys, why don’t we just move along and let these two talk, hmm?” Then he makes shooing motions at Silver and Sebek to herd them down the hall, pausing to give you a wink before following. You decided that Lilia was as strange in person as he was in the game; who winks at someone the first time you meet?
You turn your attention back to Malleus and are shocked to find him right at your side. How can someone that large move so quietly? You resist the impulse to back up and look up into his eyes instead. He chuckles, “My, you are a brave one.” Instead of being offended, he looks rather happy at the prospect. “Perhaps you are brave enough to join me in Gargoyle Studies club?” he offers with feigned indifference. You smile up at him and lay a hand on his arm in a friendly fashion, “Of course Malleus, I’d love to join you!”
He looks startled for a moment, “You know who I am? And you’d still join me?” You laugh and think, ‘oh, it’s this plotline.’ So, you sweetly reply, “Of course, I’m not afraid of you at all.” He smiles in amusement, “No?” You fluster and start stammering, “No, not at all. I mean you were my favorite in the game. I really think you look cool in your dorm uniform and the way you banter at the other dorm leaders is so fun.” You shake your head in embarrassment and return your eyes to his face only to find him rather shocked. “Game…” he says slowly, and your eyes go wide; you’d broken the only rule of this world; you’d spoken of the ‘game.’ You were speechless, standing rooted in the hall and no longer feeling like such a main character.
Finally, Malleus smiles with all his teeth displayed, “Player, how bold of you to speak out.” You thought he meant to be friendly but suddenly, it seemed rather ominous. “I…I think I’m not supposed to talk about that. Can you not tell the others?” He chuckles deeply and places a hand on your shoulder, “Worry not, dear Player. This shall be our secret.” You let out a small sigh of relief, at least this player business wouldn’t be all over the school. Then he leans closer and whispers, “And you’ll join me in the Gargoyle Studies Club, yes?” You nod, “Oh yes, I will. I…I’m looking forward to it?” You no longer sound confident at all, but his eyes narrow in satisfaction as he allows you to depart. You do so quickly, wondering if anything bad would come of your misstep. Surely not, it was only the one time and you’d be sure never to make that same mistake again!
Malleus watches you go with great pleasure. A secret shared; such things are binding between the two who share it. As a fae, he knew better than most how such bindings can be made to be more permanent. Yes, it was true that speaking to the Player in such a manner was taboo. However, Malleus was a Prince of the Dark Court; what care did he have for taboo? He’d dare far more to bind the Player to his side. This, this was just a fortuitous beginning to a very long partnership between you. He’d make sure of it.
#twst#twisted wonderland#self aware au#tw: yandere#yandere malleus x reader#yandere malleus draconia#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle#yandere riddle x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader
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Can I request Yandere Riddle with a hypermobile fem darling with knee problems? I hope this isn’t too much. This is my first TWST request.
Yandere Riddle Rosehearts
Well, this would be interesting.
Riddle's parents (or one of them) are doctors.
So he might have heard of this kind of thing before.
However, this would be Riddle's first time seeing someone like you.
Riddle would freak out really bad when he saw this for the first time.
He was afraid you hurt yourself.
Surely he is also going to lecture you on the importance of rules.
Because you must have broken some rule when you got hurt.
He also plans to secretly blame Ace and Deuce.
Riddle would be relieved that you're okay.
Indeed he would.
But surely he will create a couple of additional rules for you now.
Just to make sure his loved one is safe.
Riddle would not use this to his advantage in punishments.
Unless you did something REALLY serious.
But he would take care of you after that.
Because Riddle cares.
Just in his own (toxic) way
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#yandere imagines#yandere headcanon#yandere headcanons#yandere imagine#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst x reader#Riddle Rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere Riddle Rosehearts#yandere Riddle Rosehearts x reader#yandere riddle#yandere riddle x reader#twst x you#twisted wonderland x you
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I don't know if you want to make this request of mine, but I would be very grateful... How would it be if was Yanderes! Twisted Wonderland (dorm leaders) in love with the same reader?
Ohoho I sure can! Man being in that situation would be so scary, good lord, can you imagine? I guess now you can jsfaönf
I decided to finally feed my twst readers again after starving them for so long. I hope you enjoy!
Likes and reblogs are appreciated!
gn reader
tw yandere, obsession, possessiveness, jealousy, mention of murder, mention of violence, kidnapping/ abduction, manipulation, stalking, emotional manipulation
Yandere! dorm leaders that are in love with the same darling
Okay but this is going to be utter chaos, you just know it. Most of the dorm leaders can barely tolerate each other in the first place without a fight breaking out, then you add them being yandere ( and as such, more unhinged) ,and then to add insult to injury they all like the same person? Yeah, that´s a recipe for disaster
I honestly don´t think any of them are willing to share? They want to have you for themselves without anyone else interfering
Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle blows a fuse when he gets wind of this. He already has a harsh temper to begin with but he loses all of his composure when it concerns his darling. Do the other dorm leaders think they can just simply steal you away from him? How utterly unacceptable! He is the most hard-working and flawless student here at Night Raven College so he also deserves your love the most out of everyone here!
He´s honestly so annoyed and angry when he sees one of the others talking to you that he takes out his anger on his poor dorm members that he now collars for the slightest of offenses. It´s like chapter 1 never even happened, his reign of terror is reinstated all at once
And yet at the same time, he would take advantage of the fact that your two closest friends are members of Heartslabyul. You´re bound to want to visit them often to hang out with them, right? So of course it´s only a coincidence that you´ll often find Riddle staying close to their room to greet you and sweep you away when he gets the chance. Of course he wasn´t waiting around for you or anything like that, it´s only natural that he keeps a close eye on those two troublemakers to make sure they don´t get involved in any hijinks again, right? It´s what a responsible dorm leader should do
So while you´re at it, why don´t you join him for a nice cup of tea? He´s told Trey to bake some treats that are just to their liking. So please spend some time with him!
Leona Kingscholar
Leona is one that often doesn´t bother with putting in a lot of effort, simply because he doesn´t think his efforts would ever be rewarded. Why would he give it his all when he knows it´s not going to matter in the end? But this here is different. You´re one of the only people that have shown true understanding for his position as the second-born prince and for once he feels like he needs to try his very best when it comes to winning you over
Leone is no fool, he´s quick to figure out that the other dorm leaders seem to love you in the same obsessed way that he does. It makes him angry to think that anyone else would dare try to stake their claim on you when he´s already decided that you would be his mate. For once in his life, he refuses to play the second fiddle. He wants you and he´s not going to shirk back from using dirty means to get what he wants. He probably orders Ruggie to use his unique magic again to make the other dorm leaders hurt themselves to put them out of commission for long enough to hopefully win you over. If pushed far enough I´m sure Leona wouldn´t hesitate to use King´s roar either. He was so close to killing Ruggie, someone that is actually a big help to him, so why would he ever hold back against his rivals?
Leona is very aware that he needs to fight dirty if he wants to break free from always being in second place
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul is very displeased when he finds out that he isn´t the only one to be harboring feelings for you. It probably took him a lot of time to come to terms with his own “love” for you, not one to freely show his deeper emotions to anyone else, he doesn´t like to feel vulnerable. And yet, whenever he lays eyes on you, Azul feels more vulnerable than ever before. And he finds that he doesn´t hate it as much as he would have thought
But he very much hates his current predicament. All those other fools are head-over-heels for you as well and it makes him more insecure than he would ever admit. Of course he´s primarily upset because he wants you for his own but when he sees the kind of people he needs to compete with ( literal royalty and a celebrity) he can´t help but be caught up in his old insecurities. It makes him want to hide away more than anything but he won´t let himself do that. He knows that you´re meant to be his so he´s not going to ever give up on you
Azul enlists the help of the Leech twins who are more than eager to assist him, if only for their own amusement over the situation. They´ve been given the order to stay around you as much as possible when Azul isn´t able to, to help chase away anyone that might try to approach you. Them being around isn´t enough to stop all of them but their intimidating presence surely has some effect at least. They also tell him any kind of detail about you that they´ve found out about through their tailing.
He tries to get all the information he can about you, both to soothe his craving to know as much about you as he possibly can, but also to know how to entice you into signing a contract that will bind the two of you together forever. Once your fate is sealed, he won´t have to worry about any of the others ever taking you away from him
Kalim Al-Asim
Honestly speaking, Kalim would probably be the only one here not to notice how the other dorm leaders feel about you. He´s a very delusional yandere to begin with, not seeing anything wrong with how intensely he loves you. That´s just a sign of true love, right? Isn´t it just so great that he would do absolutely everything to ensure your “happiness” even if you didn´t ask for anything?
He just goes about courting you like he usually would: showering you with many very expensive but unwanted gifts and clinging to you for as long as he can. It´s just him showing his affection for you so he doesn´t see any reason as to why you might want to reject any of his presents. Do you really have the heart to disappoint someone as nice and sweet as Kalim? Do you want to make him cry? Please just accept whatever invitation he throws your way before things get too difficult
Jamil would likely feel obligated to help Kalim out because he simply can´t handle the other moping around and sobbing all day whenever you express displeasure at staying over for too long or you react negatively to the 5th elephant parade this week. Jamil probably understands why you would feel overwhelmed with all of Kalim´s grandiose shows of affection but he really can´t be bothered to deal with his miserable self for even a second longer. He also fears that his family might be in trouble if it came out that he didn´t help Kalim when it came to winning over his “one true love” so sorry, but he´ll need to prioritize his family´s safety over yours
Unlike Kalim, Jamil would very quickly realize what kind of competition they´re dealing with and would thus function as a sort of enabler for Kalim´s overbearingly clingy tendencies. He knows they need to act quickly before anyone else gets the chance
Wouldn´t it be a good idea for Kalim to introduce you to his parents already as his lover so you can get a wedding prepared for as soon as possible? Kalim would of course jump at the chance and try to seal the deal as soon as possible. He doesn´t see any reason to wait when you both love each other so much!
Vil Schoenheit
Just absolutely unbelievable. Do these potatoes really think they have a chance against him? No one is as beautiful, elegant and skilled as Vil Schoenheit and thus no one is more suited to be with you than him. The moment he had first laid eyes upon you he had decided that you were perfect in every way, inside and out. Vil is usually very strict when it comes to both himself and others but for some unexplainable reason, he felt this pull towards you from the very beginning. Even if logically speaking there is no person without any flaws, he is more than willing to overlook any of yours
You have managed to capture his heart and so you must take responsibility for that by letting him win over yours in return. He´s always made an effort to look the best he can but now he´s spending even more time every day, to improve himself even more, if that is even possible, to draw your attention and impress you. Maybe if he appeals to your preferences you will finally spare him a glance and bless him with your presence
He works so hard every day, which only drives him to be angrier when Rook tells him that he isn´t the only one that has laid their eyes on you. He huffs and shakes his head in dismay with a joyless smile on his face, already contemplating how he is going to deal with this
Vil is an actor so he´s more than capable of acting out whatever kind of person appeals to you the most. If he feels like you might be showing some sort of interest in one of his rivals then he might start to copy some of their mannerisms to hopefully draw your eye again. You only need to look at him, dear! Vil is the most deserving of your love out of all of them. No one else but him could hope to ever come close to your level of perfection, he is the only one that is suited to be with you
If he feels like he needs to ( he feels you slipping away), Vil is also willing to poison his rivals, as we´ve seen with Neige in the main story. He loves you too much to let anyone else have so he´s going to make sure he´s the only one remaining once the curtain falls
Idia Shroud
Idia probably starts noticing that he has some competition when he keeps seeing the other dorm leaders approach you as he is watching you through one of the many cameras he had installed all throughout NRC and your room to be able to look at you at every time of day without leaving the comfort of his room. He might have been able to look past it if it had only been a one-time thing but with the frequency of how often they´ve been seeking you out lately, he knows that something is up
And boy oh boy, Idia is not happy at all when he puts 2 and 2 together. He honestly feels like breaking his pc out of frustration when he sees the others attempt to flirt with you while he can´t even stand face-to-face with you. Idia is cursing his own social ineptitude more than ever before as he has no choice but to curse and grumble as he sees everything unfold in front of him
Idia already thought that he had no chance with you, I mean who would be interested in a weird shut-in like him? It´s the very reason why he had settled for just watching your daily life through all of these cameras instead of trying to strike up a conversation with you. The very thought of standing so close to you already makes him shiver with both excitement and fear
But that doesn´t mean at all that he would let anyone else date you. That´s not how this is going to go! He knows that they´re probably better picks for a boyfriend than he is but he hates the very thought of you being with someone else. Maybe it´s time to jump over his shadow and finally take action
So he decides to start mission “Send out Ortho to lure them into my room and then I´ll never let them leave again”. It definitely isn´t a fool-proof plan but Idia doesn´t want to simply stand by anymore if it means you might be taken from him. He´s sure Ortho is friendly enough to be able to pull it off and then it wouldn´t even matter if you found him disgusting, as long as he kept the electronic locks on his doors shut tight, you wouldn´t be able to leave him any more
Malleus Draconia
Malleus isn´t well-versed in the act of human courting but he´s intelligent enough to pick up on the way his fellow dorm leaders look at you. They look at you the same way he does: lovesick and full of desire to become your significant other. And this just isn´t something Malleus would stand for. As a draconic fae, he´s just as possessive with his darling as were the dragons that would hide away their treasures from the rest of the world. Once he has his eyes on you, he´s not going to let up until you´re completely his for all of eternity
He never thought he would find the one that was destined to be with him at this very school but it nevertheless happened. You were the first person not to fear him and to genuinely call him a friend, something that filled Malleus with happiness like nothing before. Nowadays he feels a bitter feeling pool up inside of him whenever you call him a mere friend, but the original point still stands. You were the first person that treated him as a regular fellow student and because of that he quickly grew attached to you, his own very special human
So he´s very angry ,to say the least when he figures out that he isn´t the only one laying claim to your heart. He´s so enraged in fact, that he needs to be held back by the rest of Diasomnia or he would have ended up just killing all of his rivals with the help of his powerful magic. Malleus truly knows no mercy when it comes to having you all for himself. He won´t let any of them look at you for even a second longer.
If he isn´t allowed to just get rid of everyone else because it might start a major conflict between all of their nations, he simply has to take you away from Night Raven College to somewhere only he has access to. If he were to lock you into a high tower, far away from any kind of civilization, then no one else would be able to speak to you ever again. It would only be you and Malleus. Isn´t that just wonderful?
Of course Malleus is going to make sure to visit you as often as he can so please don´t look so sad, alright? You don´t need any of your so-called “friends” anymore, you have him now! He´s not going to let anyone interfere with your relationship ever again
#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst x reader#twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere leona kingscholar x reader#yandere azul ashengrotto x reader#yandere kalim al asim x reader#yandere vil schoenheit x reader#yandere idia shroud x reader#yandere malleus draconia x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#gn reader#yandere#yandere x reader#cw yandere#cw obsession#cw stalking#cw possessiveness#cw kidnapping#cw manipulation#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader
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saw your post saying you were back and it's good to see you back!! yan riddle praising his darling for following all the rules for him would be really cute, i think!
Aaah thank you!! It's feels good to sorta be back! I probably won't post too often (every 2 hours like I did under the summer) but I'll try to post as often as I can!! (Feels good to have ppl liking your art fbkenevf--)
Anyway, onto the request! Imagine a darling following all the rules like a dutiful little student, yeah riddle would get on one knee for that no doubt fvkebev-- he feels so incredibly proud of you for being able to do that, and he probably deludes himself into thinking you do it to show you're perfect for him.
He wholesome,, but behind your back he has to make sure no "unruly" student (read: everyone) makes you disobey any rules now that you've shown yourself capable of folwing them.
Just be with him, stay with him and eat strobi tarts
DO NOT MIND THE BLOOD-
(Hey also AN!! Do you all like this style of me coloring or do you want the older grayscale one? Let me know <3)
#yandere#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst art#yandere twisted wonderland art#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle#yandere riddle x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#plumiart i guess lmao#wow i ahve been dead sorry guys
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Eat me, drink me, love me
Riddle Rosehearts my beloved
(Not proofread!!)
Warning(s): drugging, you are fully aware you're being drugged, yandere Riddle, Riddle talks about doing something to you that is left ambiguous, mentions of past drugging
Riddle pulls the carrot cake out of the oven, and spreads the cream cheese frosting across the top. Using the tube of icing, he writes in cursive the words "Eat me" on a very specific slice.
He pours the drink he made into a vial with a cork plugging it. He writes down on a small label the words "Drink me", then ties the string attached to the label around the vial. The string is tied in a cute bow.
It's perfect. You won't suspect a thing.
You walked into the tea garden, to see an entire party set up just for you.
"(Y/N), thank you for coming." Riddle said to you. "I've made a cake for us."
"Oh, did you?" You asked. "How nice."
You sit down at the table, opposite to Riddle. The slice of cake on your plate read "Eat me", written in blue icing. For your drink, you bad a vial with a cork in it, with a small label that read "Drink me".
"(Y/N)... do you realize how much you matter to me...?" Riddle asked. He sipped his tea, almost as if telling you to drink... whatever it is he gave you. "You don't, do you?"
You ate some of your cake as Riddle spoke to you. The flavour spread throughout your mouth, it was sweet and it left a strange burning aftertaste in your throat. It was delicious, but... something was clearly wrong about it.
You knew the cake was tainted with something.
You knew you shouldn't eat it.
But you knew that if you didn't, Riddle would force you to finish eating it.
"(Y/N), why don't you... w-why don't you realize I'm perfect for you? I would be the perfect boyfriend, the perfect husband! Why don't you understand?"
You nervously continued eating your cake.
You knew how Riddle felt about you, you've known the whole time, but you've never had the guts to actually reject him.
Now, you're being forced to say something on the matter.
"Why don't you understand, (Y/N)...?"
You looked at the vial.
The clear liquid inside probably tastes like strawberries. Or maybe cherries, or raspberries.
You know what it is.
You know what that drink truly is.
It's a potion. A love potion. Once you drink it, your entire view of the world will change. You'll be artificially in love with Riddle.
You popped off the cork, and brought the bottle to your lips.
"No matter how many times we go through this, when it wears off, the same thing always happens." Riddle lamented. "You go back to... not loving me. So maybe you just need me to do something while you're under the effect. Maybe that'll carry over to your normal mental state. If I do that to you... would you love me for it...?"
"Riddle. Do you want me to be honest?" You asked. He nodded his head. "I won't love you for it. In fact, I'll hate you if you do that to me. But knowing you, you aren't going to accept that as an answer. Whatever you're planning on doing, you'll do it regardless of my feelings. You'll convince yourself that this is what's best for both of us. You'll justify what you're doing in any way you can. And then, when I come to my senses and don't actually love you... you'll do all of this again."
Riddle was silent. He knew you were right, but he would never admit it.
He knew you didn't love him. He knew you never would.
But maybe.
Just maybe.
Somehow... you will.
No matter what he has to do, he'll make you fall in love. Not the false love you feel whenever he gives you the potion, but true love.
"Riddle... I hate you." You said, before drinking the love potion. You were right, it tasted like strawberries. It was viscous, it coated the inside of your mouth with it's sweet taste. That horrible, sweet taste.
And then, your thoughts altered. Everything was wrong.
Riddle sadly smiled when he saw you drink the potion.
"Maybe this time..."
Riddle got up from his seat and grabbed your hands.
"This time, (Y/N), please..."
"Please love me."
#riddle rosehearts#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst#yandere#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader
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"NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER DARK"
RIDDLE R. v LEONA K. [GN!READER]
ALICE IN WONDERLAND x RED RIDING HOOD [CROSSOVER]
WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT | YANDERE | VIOLENCE | PREDATOR n’ PREY | HUNTING | BLOOD | SUGGESTIVE | IMPLIED MURDER | PERSECTIVE JUMPS | SPECIES DISCRIMINATION | ETC | BE CAUTIOUS, BELOVED
T.MANOR: TRYING A NEW LAYOUT AND WRITING STYLE. ALSO, THIS IS PRETTY MESSY WRITING SO BE AWARE
| PART TWO |
| FEM!VER | MALE!VER |
EVERY Tuesday, exactly at noon, does the stone clock tower chime. Without delay, you hear the sound of trumpets, the marching of hooves, as the golden gates of the palace open. Wide and big, as the card soldiers, in perfect position, march upon horses of black and white, wearing that of red with swords attached to their hips and spears within their hands. Preparing for the Queen’s weekly hunt. The crowd cheers, waves banners, as they yell sayings of good luck.
The cobblestone path is tight, crowded with people, big and small, infants to the elderly, all in hopes of seeing the benevolent Queen off. Even if this same celebration will happen next week as well. In seeing him in all his grandeur. Something you’d “sadly” miss, with your woven basket tight in hand, warm and heavy from the fresh baked delights, all from the Clover bakery. You shimmy through the tight crowd, moving in the opposite direction and were, quite frankly, in the way, even as you walk along the side house and store walls. You mummer ‘excuse me’ and apologize as you go, giving sheepish grins to those who spared you a glance.
You would rather be at home, yet you promised your mother you would go. You promised to go to the bakery, to buy your grandmother’s favorite treats and sweets and deliver them to her. She lives just outside the town and in the center of the thick woods, just on the other side in a small cottage in the middle of the northern woods. A journey you’ve made countless times, and on less crowded days. Yet today, your mother was extra worried, extra concerned for your grandmother’s well being. Even if you promised, you’d go first thing in the morning tomorrow. Yet she forced you anyway. Well, guilt-tripped you into going.
‘What if she’s already dead? Hm? What would you do then?’
Return home? Tell the authorities? Cry? Yet the look on her face told you she didn’t want any back talk, so you gave in and left.
You forced yourself further down the path, spotting the familiar opening that you’ve always taken. The town you live in is surrounded by a large stone wall. Tall and thick, with only one way out of the village, and one way in. Yet this impenetrable wall has a hole, fairly big, that anyone could fit their largest ox. So you had no trouble merely crawling or walking through. The alley that led to your secret path was uncrowded, as if waiting for you and you alone.
You shimmy forward, pushing past local residents. Some allowed room for you, having noticed you, others merely rolled their eyes. You pop your head past the road barricade, searching the long stone road. The card soldiers were far. Far away to where you could make it without interrupting them, or them even noticing you. You step over the thick string, glancing one more time, before you make haste. Darting onto the clear, wide road. Ignoring shouts and gasps as you make your way to the alley. Stopping to catch your breath, you turn around. Some of the crowd are merely laughing you off, others completely ignoring, some glared at you disappointedly, yet none made a move to call the guards on you. Your eyes scan the road. You hadn’t dropped anything, and if you did, you’re sure no one would even notice.
Slightly proud of yourself, you continue on, moving past the eccentric alley system, moving quickly past houses and shops, jogging towards the large wall.
You’d be fine.
══════ ♡ ══════
“HALT.”
The crowd becomes silent, and everything pauses. A send off has never once stopped. The Red Queen, golden crown glinting in the sun, his hand raised high. His horse stands still, the same confident and demanding energy as his owner, bows his head, as the Queen flows off the saddle. Heels clicking against the stone road. He walks forward, taking exactly five precise steps, before crouching, leather gloved fingers swiping along the stone. How he saw just a small thing, no one will ever know. The squished remains of strawberry cream cheese tart, a small delight. He rubs the cream between his fingers before rising just as quickly, holding out his hand for a napkin. It appears within a second. He turns on his heel, glaring eyes scouring the crowd, before landing on an older man.
“You! Who ran across here!?”
“Uh! I have no clue, your—your majesty.” He gives an embarrassed, clumsy bow, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. “Then you tell me?” The Queen looks at another, a young woman, who automatically stiffens her posture, face paling.
“A-a person! They were young . With—with a wooden basket and red cape.” The crowd nods along eagerly.
“In which direction?”
Multiple hands point towards the alley, all in fear to face the Queen’s wrath. With a single snap, five card soldiers appear by his side. “Search for the one with a red hood. Such disrespect shall not be tolerated.” There’s a chorus of ‘yes! your majesty.’ Yet not a soul moving til the Queen re-asummed his position upon his horse. “We will resume! While in search of this Red Hood!” His voice is thunderous, and as if nothing happened, everything returns to normal.
══════ ♡ ══════
The leaves crunch beneath your feet. As you continue your long trek, the path is winding and bumpy, covered in wild leaves and branches, the cobblestone hidden beneath the foliage. The basket sways within your hand as you walk and wander along the familiar path. The cool breeze flutters your crimson cloak, and you pull the hood to cover your head and protect your ears. Wishing to have worn pants instead of trying to be cute with your red shorts and white knee-length socks.
The Queendom is never cold, unless the Queen desires cold weather.
It always remains at the perfect temperature, always a warm summer breeze and a perfect summer day. And as you venture deeper into the woods and further away from the Queendom, the cobblestone path slowly crumbles and slowly turns to dirt. You stop at the threshold, glancing behind you. Something about today seems different.
You hope it’ll be a good day.
You venture into the woods.
══════ ♡ ══════
“Ruggie. I’m heading out. Ill be back.”
He lets out a low yawn, stretching his muscles as he walked towards the cave entrance, not giving Ruggie, his right hand, a chance to respond, leaving the hyena beastman to do whatever it is he’s doing. He pushes past the thick vines of the cave, leaving the warmth of the cave and giving a shallow nod to a young wolf beastman who currently was guarding the large camp, with the others like him. “Ill be back before dawn.”
“It’s noon? And the Queen and his guard is hunting today. Far from us, but still. Are you sur—” The lazy king gives a short wave, swatting away the beastman’s concerns, stifling another yawn, leisurely wiping tired tears from his eyes, while the wolf opened his mouth to speak.
“Jack!” The duo looks towards the urgent voices. Two young beastmen, a young tiger and an older bear, both you jogged frantically, seemingly having to run across the majority of the temporary camp. They slow to a stop, giving a quick bow to their pride leader before turning to Jack.
“The Queen’s Knights. Theres five of them! Theyre asking for you presence!”
“Of course. I’m on my way. Leona.” Jack turns to their sleepy leader, only to find the place where he stood empty. He’s brows furrow, before quickly giving up and motioning for the two to lead the way.
The Queendom of Roses and the Pride of Kingscholar. While the Queen occupies the Northern woods, the Kingscholar current occupies the East portion. Over months of arguments and fights, the Kingscholar Pride has been slowly forced to the outskirts and south, while the Queendom slowly takes over the North and East.
Jack and the two beastmen run side by side, running towards the end of the camp, coming across the five poised card guards. They all sit on white pristine horses, not moving an ounce as Jack slows and straightens out his white button-up shirt. “Where is Leona Kingscholar? We shall only speak to one of authority.” The voice is muffled by his thick metal helmet, clasping to his reins and swords.
“He’s away. What you need can be spoken back to him.” Jack crosses his arm, keeping a scowl upon his lips as the knight scoffs.
“I shouldn’t expect more from your kind,” Jack clicks his tongue but doesn’t speak, letting the knight continue, “There’s a person in red. They have ruined the Queen’s sendoff and thus must receive punishment. If you find them, you know best to hand them over immediately.”
“I have no such obligations.”
“Right—” You can hear the confidence in his voice, as he shifts the reins, getting ready to move, “It’s only best to consume your meat fresh. I hope you don’t get red fabric between your fangs, wolf.”Jack gives a low growl as the horse becomes spooked, rushing over, earning a yelp from the knight and gasps from the other silent four. They watch the group ride off into the forest, before letting out a huff.
“Jack. What should we do?”
The tiger beastman speaks first, which earns a thoughtful sigh from the wolf beastman. “Nothing. I’m sure Leona will find the person before we do. Continue as you were.” Jack turns on his heels, rolling his shoulders as both boys shout and eager ‘yes’. This camp is only temporary until they reach the eastern mountain’s summit, and beyond that will be the savannas once you cross the mountains. Something Leona has been avoiding for the longest time.
══════ ♡ ══════
The farther you walk, the darker the woods get. Yet the twisting and winding path doesn’t lead you astray, a path in which you’re acquainted with. And as the trees grow closer and the leaves block the sun, it feels colder, as luminescent mushrooms and flowers that grow alongside the path glow in hints of blue and yellows, give you little light, while pollen that glows a soft purple flutters through the air. It’s absolutely enchanting, with towering thick trees and small sections which sunlight peeks through, highlighting the vibrant green plants and bushes. You hum softly, playing different games as you walk, occasionally eating one of your grandmother’s snacks.
“Youre quite far.”
You screech, nearly jumping out of your skin at the new presence of a voice. You look around and see no one. Your heart pounds against your ribcage. After a few moments, you left out a huff, slowly calming yourself.
“Especially during the Tyrant’s Hunt,” There’s a low chuckle that sends shudders down your spine and you look around frantically, “He might very well mistake you for a deer.” A rock zooms past your head, barely missing you and striking the tree behind you. Your body stiffens.
“Can you not speak?” It’s taunting and drawn out and you shiver as if ghost hands caress your body.
“What do you want—?”
“Now that is the question,” the voice lets out a low hum, and you hear the shuffling of plants, “I am quite hungry.”
You get a horrible feeling, and nearly trip, as something, or a someone, bolts through the thicket. A lion beastman. Before you can react, nails digging into your shoulders, and the new weight forces you to fall back, and momentum pushes you and him to roll over yourselves. Until you’re once again on your back, with the air from your lungs. Your eyes fly open, staring into amused deep emerald green eyes. You wince at the feelings of nails digging into your shoulders, close to breaking your skin and making you bleed, but he doesn’t. Only giving you the sensation of nails breaking skin. Your heels dig into the earth as you desperately try to regain your breath.
“Oh… Dont look like that. You act like I’m going to eat you. Well,” His hands move from your shoulders, letting you crawl backwards and away as he rested on the balls of his feet, forearms resting on his thighs as he tilts his head to the side. Eyes trailing you up and down, staring at the expansion of your bare thighs and legs, a low whistle slipping past his lips. “I might. In a more human way.” A shiver rolls down your spine as you use your cape to cover your legs. He visibly looks displeased as he looks at your face.
“Little Red Riding Hood on the run from the Queen.” He hums and you’re eyes widen as you stagger to your feet.
“What? I didn’t do anything?!”
“Doesn’t seem that way,” his tail flicks lazily, his finger drawing in the dirt in clear boredom, “you somehow made the little tyrant mad.” He stands and you step away, he makes no move toward you. Green eyes gazing around the forest before stopping and landing on the path, in the direction in which you came. You follow his gaze and when you look back, the lion beastman is extremely close, his nose brushing against yours. You jump away and he rests a hand on his hips, while the other holds out your forgotten basket.
“I would get going little red. Unless you want to be headless.”
You take your basket and glanced the path, you could hear the pounding of hooves. You grimace before turning around, sharing one more glance at the beastman before darting down the path, back onto the road to grandmother’s house.
══════ ♡ ══════
There’s six. Six horses, five knights, one tyrant.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, kicking up dirt and letting out a yawn, he was pretty hungry. Maybe you’d and your grandmother might make a good snack after he’s done here. He counts the seconds before the Tyrant comes into view, an ever-permanent scowl upon his youthful face. He’s pristine and upon seeing Leona, he ordered his soldiers to stop and with ease slides off his horse and marches 10 steps before glaring at the Lion Beastman.
“Queen’s rules dictate that youre not allowed within the northern forest on Tuesday afternoons. In all honesty, I should send you and your pride further east for such disrespect of the Queens’s rules.” His words are venomous, speaking precisely that has his knights flinching even if the words weren’t for them.
“It’s Tuesday? I had no idea. Oops.” Using his pinky finger, he cleans out his ear with a bored expression, earning a harder glare as the Queen struggles to remain calm.
“No matter. Do what you want. I have more pressing matters.” He holds out his hand, and immediately, a parchment scroll is placed within his hands. The Queendom of Roses has always been the most efficient and quick. Undoing the rolled parchment and holding up the paper, your face was drawn most beautifully, a perfect reflection almost.
“Theyre pretty.” Leona furrows his brows, watching the Tyrant marvel at the photo, his nose scrunches in disgust.
“What are you on, Riddle?” Gasps and quick inhales come from the knights, yet the Queen doesn’t seem to mind, only few can call him by his name.
“If you must know. They disturbed my send off, and I assumed that they were some ruffian. But now, after seeing a drawing of them. They are quite cute and I am in need of a King,” He tilts her head with a gleeful grin, that seemed misplaced and lovesick, “Though I will have to break them in, make them more obedient. But I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”
“You truly are sick.” Riddle face morphs from love-struck to angry, rolling up the parchment delicately, before clearing his throat.
“I suggest you go. Unless—” A arrow shoots past Riddle’s head and grazes the fullness of Leona’s cheek before striking the tree behind him. Green eyes widen a mere fraction, and the tyrant beholds the tiniest smile. The card soldiers werent mere decoration, yet they arent that smart either. One of them must be a skilled huntsman.
“You know what I am capable of. I hate to have to make you my target instead.”
The leader of his pride rolls his shoulders lazily, with his thumb wiping away the blood on his cheek. “Absolutely. Id hate to make you angry. Know if you’ll excuse me, this lion is quite hungry.” And without another word, the lion stalks into the unknown of the woods.
══════ ♡ ══════
The path to grandmother’s house seems a lot longer than it usually does. Usually you’d be at her tiny cottage within an hour or two, yet it feels like days since you entered the woods and encountered the lion beastman. As if the forest was alive, living, breathing. As if the path beneath you were snakes whose bodies twisted and turned, knocking you off your feet.
You land with a hard thud, shaking your head. The forest is darker than before. How long has it been? You know the path and you know it well yet; you search your surroundings lazily, feeling as if you were submerged in thick oil, and the word seemed muffled. You spot vibrant red mushrooms that seemed to inflate before releasing a thick white gas. Hallucinations. They’re carnivorous mushrooms, but they’re never active during the day, nor on the path. They’re new. As if purposely planted, but that’s ridiculous.
And it couldn’t possibly be night.
No.
You struggle to your feet, gripping the basket and meandering.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Until a beacon.
Off to the side of the path, nestled in between two large trees, if you walked further down the path you’ll come across the small cottage village, with her golden porch light, was your grandmother’s house. With her stone walls and wooden roof were covered in moss and mushrooms, while her red painted door was visible. You pick up your pace, stumbling occasionally as you reach her rickety wooden porch, a wide grin upon your lips as you knock on the old door.
“Grandma!” You call through the wood, yet no reply. You grab the gold doorknob, turning it and slowly pushing the door inside, letting yourself in.
It’s the same as you remember, with the fireplace on, with fresh logs. There was no collection of dust, and the couch looked recently sat on. Her throw blanket and decor pillows were out of place. You close the door behind you, slipping off your shoes, and placed the basket on the dining room table. While undoing the strings of your cape and calling out to your grandma. You move deeper into her home, before reaching her bedroom. You knock.
“Oh, darling! I’m feeling quite sick, but come in. Come in.” Her voice sounds the same, and your tense shoulders drop, as a smile spreads across your face as you open the door. Only to find her bed empty and made, with the window wide open. You step further into the room, looking around, before you hear a soft click and you spin around, only to find the lion beastman from before. He isn’t looking at you, but instead squeezing a small bird.
“Mimic birds are quite useful. Able to mimic to the voice of anyone and anything once they hear it.” He releases the bird, and it frantically flies out the window. You step back. “You—My grandma!” You suck in a panicked breath and the man only shrugs. Striding his way towards you, his hand moving faster than you could comprehend to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks.
“What do you think--“ His free arm slides around your waist and forces your close, you try to push him away, “I did. Maybe I ate her. Gobbled her up like a big bad wolf,” He faux pouts before clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes in personal annoyance, “Or lion, that fits better doesn’t it.” He shakes your head aggressively, speaking like a mother would to a child when they’re fussy,
“Maybe ill eat you up. Wouldn’t you just like that--“ He lets you break away with a laugh, watching your glare, and he tilts his head and eyes moving out the window.
You can hear horses.
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
#t.manor.horror.stories#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland dark content#twisted wonderland angst#twisted wonderland poly#yandere twisted wonderland#Twst AU#yandere riddle rosehearts#riddle Rosehearts#riddle rosehearts fluff#riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere riddle x reader#yandere riddle Rosehearts x reader#yandere leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#yandere Leona kingscholar x reader#yandere leona x reader#alice in wonderland#red riding hood#twst x gender neutral reader#riddle x gn reader#Leona x GN Reader
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Can I request a scenario with Soft!Yan Riddle with a darling that have a hard time falling asleep all alone but is too shy to ask him for cuddles because it hasn't been long since they started dating?
hi, anon! I hope you don't mind that I changed darling to my love (cuz I think darling aligns with females more and this piece is supposed to be gender neutral)
hope its okay!
I hope the yandere-ness is conveyed at the end!
TW: love sickness, possessiveness, non consensual marking, toxic relationship, yandere
riddle softly closes your door behind him, and approaches you in your bed, watching your still figure with a smile. "my love, are you asleep?" he whispers, brushing your hair away.
"oh, riddle...!" you exclaim, quickly hiding your face in a pillow as you sit up, your voice muffled. "w-what are you doing here? it's late!"
"I wanted to see my partner. t-that's alright, isn't it...?" he murmurs, sitting on the bed.
"y-yea.. I guess..." silence falls between the two of you.
"why... why aren't you sleeping yet? it's quite late." riddle nags you gently. "you won't be at your full potential if you don't get enough sleep."
"it's embarassing..." you grumble, squeezing the pillow.
"I won't judge, my love." his nickname makes your blush brighter, clutching the pillow in your arms as you pull away from it.
"a-alright, alright, you win..." you miss the cocky smile on his face as you admit: "I... I have a hard time sleeping alone."
"I..." he waits as you ready your words. "I wanted to come to you, but you know we just started dating and it's sorta... embarassing..."
"O...Oh..." riddle fumbles, before giving an offer you can't refuse: "if you won't come to me, then... can I come to you?"
"h-HUH?!"
"well, you said you were embarassed to ask me, so I thought it'd be fine if I asked you!"
"w-well, sure, yeah, okay?!" you agree readily, falling back and opening your arms. "get in cozy, yeah?!"
"y-yes!" riddle nods, unsure on why you both started shouting all a sudden, but sliding into your arms nonetheless. he can feel your heart hammering jsut as much as his, and your breath on his back.
"is... is it okay now...? do you feel better?" he whispers, his eyes vaguely looking at the dark room before him.
"it's better." he feels you say, your voice's tremor against his back. "thanks... my rose."
"of... of course. sleep tight."
"...zzzz..."
"asleep, already...?" riddle sighs, turning around so he can face you. he cups your cheeks with unabashed affection written in his gray eyes as he whispers his signature spell under his breath.
the collar appears and riddle whispers another spell to release it from your hold. it forms a lovely ring around your neck, and he smiles again, whispering yet another spell to keep it form disappearing, thumbing the mark softly.
"I love you." he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against the mark. "and I'll ensure you'll love me back,"
"for as long as time permits."
#cherry picking#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#twst#riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere riddle x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#gn! reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader
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boyfriend.
yandere!female!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader
cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied (cyber)stalking, cheating, dub-con, alcohol/intoxication, characters written as 18+
note - riddle seeks to prune the filthy weeds from your life, starting with your ill-mannered boyfriend. // inspired by dove cameron's boyfriend.
i. i can’t believe we’re finally alone. i can’t believe i almost went home. what are the chances? everyone’s dancing, and he’s not with you.
Riddle has never traveled to this part of the city before—the seedy, unsavory sliver overshadowed by towering skyscrapers, illicit, perilous secrets tucked away in every alley. It’s not as if she’s here under duress. Although if you were to frame it from her perspective, it would feel less like an active, consensual choice and more of a you’ve-forced-my-hand choice. It’s blatant rule-breaking all the same, a stain on her delicate character. Blight on her shiny social status as a golden child, forever marked as the obedient one.
She’s lived her rebellious streak, was punished swiftly and accordingly, and strived to be better in the aftermath. It was one thing to slip out during independent study, and that fun had been trampled upon by a cruel, heeled foot. That was a child’s error. A lesson learned. A valid reason to sever all distractions and improve academically, consequently maturing with sharp, sparkling intelligence and abysmal social skills.
But Riddle is no longer that starry-eyed, impressionable child, and she does not make the same mistake twice.
Or so she’s always believed, but she’s willing to risk an unforgiving tongue-lashing and life imprisonment at the hands of her mother if it means she can fix things. No matter how she spins it, the truth remains the same: She’s fallen back on an old habit, sneaking out and keeping secrets. She’s an open book to Trey, though, who she’d taken care to message on the train ride into the city, her text mostly cryptic: Should anything happen, this is where I’ll be. It’s wrong to skirt around the truth, especially when it’s your closest friend. She knows this, but then she also knows Trey gives terribly good advice. The type of terribly good advice you often don’t want to hear.
Advice like: “You need to let her go.”
And Riddle can’t—won’t.
So she steps into the digital footprints left by that brash, brutish party animal you lovingly call your boyfriend, and she follows the string of social media posts like a diligent detective, flicking through each with manicured fingernails. She commits them to memory so that they remain imprinted in her mind before they’ll eventually expire at the twenty-four hour mark.
In the days leading up to tonight, Cater had taken her out for their usual self-care makeover day, which was really just a day dedicated to dressing up and gossiping at the salon. It was a monthly arrangement, and it kept the both of them entertained and sane. The latter of those two was called into question when Riddle, wholly out of character, selected black nail polish for her mani-pedi, which left Cater looking on with brewing curiosity. She gazed at him, pouty lips upturned slyly, and said, “I thought I’d give red a temporary break.”
“Oh, but red is so your color!” he insisted, raising his phone to capture both of them in frame.
Riddle smiled at the camera. “I know.”
It has always been her color, a staple in her closet. It’s a favorite she can never truly shake, hence why it stains her lips instead. Bright like arterial blood, a blossoming carnation, it stands out starkly on her pale countenance—the only splotch of color on her person. Cater took her shopping when he’d learned she was attempting to fit a new style into her wardrobe of prim, modest clothes. They ran up and down the racks, grinning at each other from across the store and holding up sweaters and skirts, weighing whether either would suit Riddle’s night out. In the end, she settled for the outfit she wears now: a red tube top, a cropped puffer jacket, a pencil skirt that doesn’t pass the fingertip test (not that she cares to follow that rule), tights, and knee-high heeled boots. To finish the look, she’s pulled her hair from its usual plaits, allowing it to cascade down her back like a crimson waterfall. Fingerless lace gloves adorn her hands, stitched with intricate patterns of roses and thorns.
Cater called it the Femme Fatale Friday fit. It’s a Saturday night, but it feels like Friday when she peers at her reflection in a pocket mirror, checking her makeup once more.
She will not make the same mistake twice. She’s a paragon of perfection—Riddle Rosehearts, for seven’s sake!
Stuffing the mirror into a matching handbag, she eyes the skyscraper looming before her, sleek with its metal framework and industrial glass. The bright cityscape reflects off of each window, dazzling with luminous specks of light. She considers the contents in her purse, reviews each with a critical eye, and inhales a steadying breath.
This is necessary.
She’s an adult now, nearly finished with her graduate studies. She lives on her own in a quaint, pet-friendly apartment with her hedgehog, and she works part-time at the café down the street, putting forth her best effort as she weathers the woes of university. Despite all of this independence, she doesn’t feel like an adult.
Not when she can hear her mother in the back of her head: You look ridiculous. Come home right now before you make a fool of yourself and sully my good name.
Riddle scowls at the concrete, curling her fingers into fists.
She’s an adult now. She is not her mother’s doll.
Leaving all hostility and self-doubt at the door, she steps through the lobby and beelines for the lift. It carries her to her destination—one of the highest floors. A penthouse suite.
And not just any penthouse suite. Floyd Leech’s penthouse suite.
Under normal circumstances, she would never willingly set foot in his territory. She survived four years of school with him, which was already a sickening amount, and in that time she watched him glide through his undergraduate with just barely passing grades. That wasn’t enough to stoke the red-hot embers of envy, though. It only made him seem even more like a cockroach, unable to be crushed by the weight of scholarly responsibilities, for he never took anything seriously.
For that reason, Riddle has never envied Floyd. But by the end of their third year, he had something Riddle didn’t.
He had you.
How he managed to settle into a relationship when all he did was slack off, party, and break the rules was beyond Riddle. He was a slippery delinquent, hardly deserving of your sweet affections, and yet you looked at him like he was the only one on the planet. Just where was the appeal? His manner of dress is sloppy. The way he carries himself is unpalatable and crude. The way he acts suggests his insipience is incurable. Even when he applies himself, he is still Floyd and that doesn’t clean his slate or shine his reputation. So in Riddle’s discerning eyes, he does not possess a scintilla of romantic appeal.
You don’t seem to agree with these sentiments, for you’ve been with Floyd for four long years.
Love is blinding, but Riddle has never been in love before and so she doesn’t have adequate data to prove this point. It was forbidden in her home. She’s only allowed to love the men her mother handpicks, plucking each specimen like they’re ripened strawberries from a bush. In the beginning she found all manner of minor details to excuse them from her life, insisting upon a nonexistent list of impossibly high standards. He was too tall. He was too forward with his interest. He wore contrasting colors. He didn’t like tea. These reasons were far too critical and childish, and each man had been sent away in a huff. Her mother would scold her, halving her with a nasty glare: “Are you planning to die alone?”
Yes, Riddle realized by the twentieth admonishment, yet another man cast aside. If dying alone means romantic freedom in life, I’ll do just that.
The elevator spits her out into the hall, which isn’t as silent as she thought it’d be. Bass shakes through the walls, reverberating all the way through her ribs as if it intends to stir up her organs. She catches her reflection in the windows, noting the dark, monstrous scowl, and smooths her face into something courageous. She means business as she clicks down the hall, preparing herself for the whirlwind that undoubtedly waits behind the door. Riddle starts to wonder how Floyd’s neighbors have yet to file a noise complaint and then stops, her thoughts cutting off abruptly. It’s a challenge to make complaints when your father holds parts of the city’s underground in his palms.
He’s got it easy, that spoiled pest.
Riddle’s gait slows to a halt and she reaches out to knock thrice. The door is thrown open before she can even bring her fist down. Soon she’s staring at a rosy-cheeked stranger, whose eyes trace her figure like he’s trying to paint her on his mental canvas. She’s prepared for the worst, having tucked the spray in her bag, its container disguised to look like lipstick. The strawberry keychain hanging from her purse is a self-defense alarm, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice. His ogling does not frighten her, nor do his intentions, if he can even harbor any in that intoxicated brain of his. She’s braved scarier horrors. Like living out years of her life with her mother.
“Heyyy, you one of Floyd’s girls? Here for the party?”
Riddle suppresses the disgusted shiver threatening to crawl up her spine, swallowing bile. “Just the party.”
She is no one’s girl. Definitely not Floyd’s.
When she’s let inside and the stench of sweat and alcohol assault her nostrils, coupled with the too-loud party music, she considers retreating, her mother’s judgment echoing: You look ridiculous. Her fingers twitch towards her purse. One text and Trey would pick her up. One call and Cater would be on his way. But then she’d be forced to tell them the truth—would have to admit that she’s chasing the one person she can never have.
She hardens her resolve, pushes through the throng of bodies in an effort to find refreshments, and there you are, her perfect, pretty wallflower in a perfect, pretty silver dress. The dim neon lighting casts you in a luscious pink haze, and she watches you scroll through your phone, your eyelids falling and opening. You’re so beautiful—the sweetest thing she’s ever seen, more saccharine than a truckload of strawberry tarts. Her hand slides away from her purse, and she tamps down a gleeful smile, stepping over to you with newfound confidence.
“(Name)?”
You turn your whole body towards her, your gaze unfocused. She can smell the liquor on you, can see the hickeys not quite covered by a velvet choker. Her gaze narrows. He’s all over you, isn’t he? From top to bottom, you are covered in traces of him. Her nose scrunches. Just what do you see in him?
It should be her teeth on your skin, tearing it open, bruising it, tasting slick copper on her tongue. It should have always been her, but it’s not. Why did you have to settle for less when you’re entitled to so much more?
You peer at her like she’s something in a museum, perplexing and abstract. And then it clicks. You gasp, your mouth falling open in awe, and your words come out horribly slurred. She fails to hide her wince when you throw your arms around her, hanging off of her like a tote on a shoulder.
“Riddle! You…seriously showed up… Can’t believe it’s really you. It feels like it’s been forever.” You pull away, swaying with the motion, and place your hands on her arms. “Your outfit is suuuper cute.”
She’s blushing. She knows she is because her face is burning with heat and suddenly it’s much too stifling in here. “Oh. Ah, um, t-thank you very much… You look very nice, too.”
Really? Is that the best thing I could say? ‘You look very nice’? Honestly, Riddle…
But you smile, and the sight steals her heart all over again. You can have it. By all means take her heart. Take it and love it to pieces. That way it will be fair when she takes yours. An even exchange in accordance with the rules of love.
Or maybe it’s more so the rules of romantic warfare, carried out to the extreme on a chessboard. Or a croquet court. Something sporty and metaphorical, anyway.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” she asks, refusing to say his name lest she speak him into existence and tarnish her near-perfect evening.
Her question strikes a chord within you, and you heave an exaggerated sigh. You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall for support. “Left me to go hang with the guys. S’not fair!” you whine, sliding further down until you’re sitting in a defeated heap.
Riddle bends down to your height, her tone as soft and sympathetic as her expression. “Does he always do this?”
Hurt flashes across your face, but you don’t say anything. So he does. Why is she not surprised?
Who in the world leaves their partner at a party, vulnerable and alone? Riddle thinks, anger flaring up in her chest. Someone could take advantage of you. You’re in no state to be standing here by yourself. That fool… He doesn’t know how to treat a lady at all. How have you put up with him for four years? Your patience amazes me.
“It’s not like…” You shut your eyes and rest your head against the wall. “Not like an always-happening thing…”
Riddle isn’t going to sugarcoat it. She wants her words to cut deep, all the way to the heart you’ve allowed Floyd to bind. “Whether or not he does it often, the fact still stands that he left you intoxicated in the corner of this room. That’s careless and unsafe.” She tilts her head, admiring the way you’ve done your makeup, the way your plush lips jut out in a miserable pout. And it just rushes out, words she’s thought but never had the courage to say. At least, not to the sober you. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You deserve so much better.”
Like me, she almost adds, but that’s too direct. And she’s not even sure the admission will land when you’re so out of it.
“Appreciate it…” You scrub your face, groaning. “Ugh. I feel sick…”
“Would you like to get some fresh air?”
You shake your head, stubborn to a fault. “Can’t. Gotta wait for Floyd.”
Riddle frowns. “I highly doubt he’s coming back anytime soon.”
“Still.”
“At the very least, let’s get you some water.” She offers her hand, hoping and praying to the heavens above that you’ll take it.
You do. It’s a flawless fit. Her heart flutters, weightless and feathery, when her fingers close around yours. She wonders what moisturizer you use, what sort of lotions kiss your skin. Are they scented, or is that just your perfume? Or have you done away with perfume for tonight and is that a natural fragrance? Or maybe it’s the sweet scent of a fruity wine, printed on your tongue like a delicious tattoo.
She wants to kiss you.
“Just how much have you had to drink?”
“Like a cup or two? I…dunno. Does it matter?”
You stumble when she helps you up, grabbing at her shoulder for support. Riddle almost falls back, but the wall braces her. You place your palm right by her head, and suddenly you’re leaning in, inadvertently pinning her to the wall. Her pupils nearly eclipse her blue-grey irises, and her breath sticks in her throat. Oh, you’re so close. You’re a drunken mess, pushing yourself up against her, your beauty enveloping her like a chrysalis. If this is a dream, she never wants to wake, for the world that awaits her beyond this is cold and colorless.
Your head lowers to the dip between shoulder and neck, and she gazes heavenward. The ceiling is much nicer at this moment, if only so she can clear her own heady haze of impure thoughts.
There are people about, she has to remind herself, shaking off the urge to close her fingers around your chin and tilt your head up to meet her mouth. And she has a boyfriend. Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.
But the chance is much too beguiling. You’re right here, quite literally within her reach, and Floyd’s nowhere in sight. It’s too perfect. She can’t quite wrap you in an affectionate embrace—though that is an irresistible urge she must fight off—so she settles to rub circles into your back instead, dutifully reflecting the role of a concerned friend. It’s not the part she wishes to play. Rather, she’d gladly take on the title of boyfriend if it meant you’d feel loved. Every day, at every hour, for the rest of your life. She’d do all the things Floyd ought to do: care for you, appreciate you, protect you, stay by your side through thick and thin.
Love is a dangerous, thorny thing, but it’s the encroaching jealousy that kills.
Floyd doesn’t deserve you. If anything, he deserves a mouth full of soap to scrub every profanity he’s ever uttered. Just what does he tell you in bed? That you’re a good girl? That you’re soooo tight? That you can take it? Does he know which ways you like it? Does he know where to touch so you’ll unravel faster? Does he know how to get you properly, thoroughly worked up, so much so that it feels like your skin is aflame with potent want and desire?
Does he even know your anatomy, or are you simply a body for his avaricious appetite?
Like roses twining possessively around a trellis, Riddle holds you close in her arms, her hand sweeping across your lower back. Her glacial eyes scan the crowd, warding off anyone who may be curious with her most malevolent death stare.
“Mm… I need to lie down. My head is…spinning…”
With that, the murderous, overprotective haze sticking to Riddle like a poisonous fog dissipates. A sickly sweet smile widens on ruby-red lips. “Let’s find someplace quiet.”
Together, the two of you stagger-walk out of the room, leaving the party and its inhabitants behind. Crossing through the attached kitchenette, Riddle pilfers a bottled water from the fridge.
Her mind is sharp as a cut diamond. Her skin prickles with anticipation.
Down the hall you go, with Riddle supporting you with what minimal physical strength she has. A door looms before the both of you, cast in a comfortable glow from a neighboring skyscraper, and you struggle to pull your heels off while she pushes the door open. It reveals a messy room, clothing and candy wrappers strewn about sloppily.
Riddle feels like she’s on top of the world, and she is. Up in the clouds on the forty-third floor of this luxurious penthouse apartment.
ii. i could be a better boyfriend than him. i could do the shit that he never did. up all night, i won’t quit.
All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle pined. Hopelessly. Forlornly. Desperately.
Hungrily.
It was unbecoming to want something to such an obsessive degree. She buried herself in her studies to do away with lustful delusions, each more distracting than the last. But then you would crop up in her life when she least expected it and soon the two of you were studying together. Soon you were visiting her dorm to watch movies during the times in which she allowed herself the break (and she only did so because it was you). Soon you were spending nights in her room, sleeping sprawled on the floor even though she offered her bed time and time again. You’d get ready in the mornings, debating what the breakfast menu would entail. She’d watch your reflection in the floor mirror as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, eyeing the way you slid seamlessly into a lacy black bra. And then she’d change out of her nightgown, and you’d comment on her undergarments.
“We should go shopping sometime. You gotta get cuter stuff!”
“Why should I? No one’s going to see it,” she insisted with a flustered huff.
“I’ll see it the next time I sleep over,” you told her, smiling innocently as you stepped into a blue handkerchief skirt. “Besides, there are so many cute sets you could wear. You’d look so pretty in something red and frilly. You’re totally missing out.”
Riddle considered it back then. Your eager eyes had almost won her over, but she was firm in her decision. “I’m fine with what I have now.”
And the conversation ended there. She really wishes you would have pushed it back then because just a little nudge in that direction and she would have given in, entirely at your mercy.
Selfishly, she just yearned to be stuck in a changing stall with you.
All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle fostered a special sort of friendship with you. You’d stop by her dorm during finals to insist she take a break, your offer too tempting. She’s always been weak to sweets. You were close enough to exchange intimate details with one another. She listened to all of your dating woes, and conversely you’d sit still and bear witness to her ramblings about fascinating law facts. Sometimes she’d rant about her mother. You always listened. “She sounds like she sucks,” you said once. “How are you even related to her? You’re so nice.”
It was a pleasant three years. If she deluded herself enough, she could have pretended you were her girlfriend and then she’d have something to tell her mother to put an end to the countless attempts at scoring her a husband. I will never marry any of your options, she would think, playing the confrontation out in her head. I have a partner now and we’re very happy together. Sometimes Riddle imagined her mother tossing darts at a board with photographs of men attached to it, disregarding compatibility altogether in favor of upholding traditional rules. But then Riddle realized she’d have to die before she could ever admit her own romantic freedoms to her mother, and so that conversation only ever came about in daydreams.
I’d rather die alone than live life shackled in a loveless marriage. She wonders if her father thought the same.
Those three years had been a wonderful reality, filled with sugared, candy-coated love. A one-sided love, sure. But Riddle could settle for platonic affections, for that was just as sweet.
And then he arrived at the doorstep to Riddle’s fantasy cottage, kicking the walls down and sweeping you off your feet.
Floyd Leech has always been a nuisance. You were there to shoo him away every time he came knocking, all broad grins and vexatious jeers. He listened to you most days, a mutt without proper leashing, oddly loyal to you. As if you were his keeper of sorts. Riddle was amazed, befuddled, and worried all at once. Unlike her, you could keep your cool, could still smile so kindly even when Floyd was being an utter pain in the ass with his foolish nicknames. When he tried to pluck Riddle’s hairpin from out of her braids—a handmade gift you had given her for her birthday—she slapped him hard across the face and hissed, “Don’t ever put your filthy paws on me again.”
And maybe it was because you were there that she was able to recover shortly after the outburst. (Although she still meant that slap with every fiber of her being.) Maybe you were her collar. Maybe you were her keeper. Maybe she was meant to meet you so that you could color her world, lead her along into the friendship she’d been robbed of as a child.
Looking back, Riddle realizes that was the catalyst. Because when Floyd cradled his bright-red cheek, giggling like a maniac, you asked him, “Don’t you have anything better to do? Can’t you bother someone else?”
And then you were made the prime target.
What’s worse is that you reveled in it, adored every ounce of attention Floyd gave you like it was something holy, later admitting to Riddle during a movie marathon that you “wondered if Floyd was seeing anyone.” She wanted to retch. You, a seraph incarnate, with a devil like Floyd? Impossible. But your tone was so whimsical; you were dreaming of it. You liked him.
She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.
By the end of her third year, just as finals gave way to summer, you threw your arms around Floyd’s neck while he pressed you up against the trunk of a flowering tree. Pink petals fluttered to the ground, and with the falling blossoms came Riddle’s hope, crashing and burning in a heartbroken heap.
She won’t make the same mistake twice, which is precisely why, when you flop onto Floyd’s unmade bed, she turns the lock to keep all outside influences away. The party is but a mere muffle now, thrumming through the floorboards with reckless abandon.
Her nose wrinkles at the pile of dirty laundry. Slob, she thinks, brimming with hate. What does she see in you? You’re a mess, you’re definitely a criminal, you can’t keep a stable job, you throw obnoxious parties every other week, you leave your own girlfriend unattended… What part of that is appealing? She gazes at you next. You’re too good for him, (Name). You can do so much better. Raise your standards. Find someone respectable and attentive. Someone who’ll stay with you forever. Someone who won’t let you get stupidly drunk and then run off to Queen-knows-where.
“Someone like me,” she mutters.
You have to be coerced into drinking, and you’re so sleepy that the water dribbles down your chin. Riddle tuts at you, swiping the liquid away with her sleeve.
“You’re a mess,” she says, affectionate despite the barb.
You’re my mess.
She slides your heels off, casting them elsewhere. You look like a starfish when you lay sprawled, or maybe you’re more like a snow angel. Only rather than snow, you imprint yourself amongst wrinkled sheets. Riddle knows it’s wrong, but you’re right here. She’s waited so many years for a moment like this one.
It’s not fair.
She unzips her boots, kicks them off, and stands at the edge of the bed, locked in a fierce debate. You should have thrown your arms around her that day. You should have kissed her, should have spent the last four years with her, should have stayed in her life like the permanent fixture you were destined to be. She’s never wanted anything more than this. Not even a surplus of strawberry tarts. Not even the dreams she’s working tirelessly towards achieving. She’s only ever wanted you.
But Floyd took you away, and her world has never been the same since.
The mattress dips under her weight; she’s made up her mind.
“Do you remember the promise we made?” she whispers, running her hands up your legs. You lift your head to look at her, eyes glassy with inebriated exhaustion. “The one in which we’d live together after graduation? You said you’d want to live somewhere pet-friendly so we could get hedgehogs and name them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”
You hum, your lashes fluttering.
“We could still do that. Just you and me. Without your boyfriend.”
“What?”
Her fingers catch on the waistband of your panties. “Hm?”
“Mm, no, nothing… You should get going. It’s late…”
“Someone has to look after you.”
“Floyd can.”
She presses her thumbs into your hips and the tiniest gasp leaves your parted lips. “But Floyd’s not.”
“He will.”
“He won’t,” she snaps. Something flickers in your eyes, a flash of unrest. Riddle chews her lower lip. “He’s… (Name), what do you see in him? Honestly, truly, what is it? Please educate me. Please… What does he have that I don’t? What makes you stay?”
“Cuz he’s my boyfriend,” you mutter slowly, perplexed, “and I love him.”
“Do you?”
“Riddle, why are you so…” The words fizzle out on your tongue when her touch strays too close to home. “Wait… We can’t… Not in here.”
“Why not? It’s just one more mess. He won’t even notice.”
“That’s not it… Riddle, wait. I… I don’t like you in that—”
She collapses, anchoring herself to you, her manicured nails digging deep into your arms. And then her mouth is on yours, clumsy and uncoordinated. She doesn’t want to hear it—can’t bear to hear it. She knows the truth. It’s haunted her from the day she met you, a shadow looming like a guillotine’s blade. You were fated to be forever out of reach. Just like those strawberry tarts in the bakery window. The kiss is filthy, all desire and zero skill. Her tongue flashes into your mouth. It’s nothing like the way they describe it in fiction or portray it in films. It’s obscene. Sinful. Libidinous. Her lipstick smears; she tastes the wine in your throat, licks your teeth and nibbles your lip, delicate and gruesome all at once. She tries her best, unyielding.
The technique doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. It’s just blind, unrequited passion. She’ll learn it eventually and when she does she’ll kiss you drunk. It’s just another thing she’ll master. And she will because that’s just who she is. Give her a textbook and she’ll have it memorized. Give her a kiss and she’ll return to practice it to perfection.
She pulls away, panting, her lipstick in disarray. It’s all over you, smudging on the corners of your mouth. Running a hand through her hair, her figure outlined in the tantalizing glow from the city lights, she licks her lips.
“Riddle…”
Spoken soft like prayer, it’s a whisper she’ll treasure. Over and over, without end, repeat it like a mantra.
“Riddle, please…”
“He doesn’t know anything about your preferences, does he?” Your dress is slid up next. She traces a heart into your bare stomach, capturing your navel in invisible lines. You shudder under her touch, grabbing at her wrist with a limp hand. She brings it up to her lips and presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “I know you much better than he does. I always have.”
To prove it, she presses two fingers to your clothed pussy. You whine, reedy and high-pitched. “But…”
“I read it takes fourteen minutes for women to reach their end during partnered sex.” She levels you with a half-lidded stare, smirking. What she lacks in skill, she makes up for in raw confidence. “I’ll only need less than that, so you won’t have to feign anything for my sake. I know you well enough, my rose.”
A wide range of emotions waltzes across your countenance. Your arm falls over your face next. It’s defeat or hesitant acceptance, but to Riddle it’s love.
“Ten minutes,” you whisper, conceding. “And then…you need to leave.”
She makes you cum in just five, covers you in lipstick prints, each kiss a sly cover-up. Floyd may be all over you, bites and bruises blooming new and old, but he’s not inside you, wringing you out like a sodden towel. You sob like you’re in heat when she sinks her fingers into your slick warmth, scissoring so slowly, until you’re begging her to make you cum again. Your fluids soak through the sheets. The scent of sex and sweat hangs heavy in the air. She’s alive, wildly untamed, a knight who’s just rescued the princess and slayed a bloodthirsty dragon.
Her head is between your thighs next, her hands braced on either leg to keep them apart. You watch her with glazed eyes, soon throwing your head back when she slides your hood up to reveal your pretty, pert clit. Experimentally, she licks a teasing stripe up your slit. You shiver and dig your fingers into her scalp, imprisoning her there. It’s where she’s always wanted to be.
“Tell me,” she murmurs, the words fanning across your pussy, “if he’s so good, why haven’t you proven it? Is this the most you’ve ever cum in a night? Does he please you or do you please him? If he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, why are you still so unsatisfied?”
“Because… B-Because!”
Your protests are fragmented and spotted with gasps. That’s arguably more telling than a detailed response.
Riddle smiles like a Cheshire, her eyes narrowed victoriously. Spidery digits creep along your thighs. Her thumbs dip into your pussy, spreading it wide for her viewing pleasure. “Don’t think of him. Tonight, it’s just you and me. I’ll give you what you’re owed. That and so much more.”
Like a fragile statue, you topple. Right into her, bucking against her mouth like the world is ending, and she’s there to steady you.
She always is.
iii. i’m gonna steal you from him. i could be such a gentleman. plus, you know my clothes would fit.
“Sooo… Gimme the goss. How was your night out?”
Riddle looks up from an assortment of nail polish colors, each one more red than the last, and says, “It was more enjoyable than I thought.”
“Yeah?” Cater prompts, brows raised. “Don’t be so vague! I wanna know all the juicy details. It’s rare for you to stay out so late. And to go to a party, of all things, in the city? Hello?! New Riddle, who’s this?”
“I was only meeting an old friend.”
“That’s what they all say.”
The technician asks her to pick a color. “This one,” she says, pointing. “The one named Sanguine Sunrise.”
“You’re totes keeping me in the dark!” Cater whines, dramatic. “At least give Cay-Cay some hints! Something! Anything! Spare change, please?”
Riddle smiles smugly. Pride drips from every syllable when she speaks next. “My friend will be spending this Valentine’s Day alone.”
“Bummer.”
“Not quite. She’ll have me and half-priced chocolates. A rather charming combination, no?”
Cater laughs. “GL. I’m rooting for you.”
You don’t need to, she thinks, tracing the love bite stamped into her skin, hidden under the soft fabric of her blouse. Because I’m already winning.
Her phone buzzes with a text: about last night… if i did anything weird, i’m so sorry. i was way too drunk.
Riddle turns it over, dips her feet in the heated water, and settles into the massage chair, pleased as a peach. “It was one bad decision. Four years of bad decisions, but it’s forgiven. We all make silly mistakes when we’re lovestruck. Hopefully her silly mistake disappears for good and we never have to speak of him again.”
“You’re so scary, Riddle. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”
Another message arrives: i think we might’ve kissed last night. i’m really super sorry.
There’s a brief delay.
ok this is gonna sound weird coming from me but maybe we can do it again??? floyd’s kisses are sorta… :/
Her phone vibrates for the final time that afternoon.
actually i’m just gonna stop talking omg i’m crazy. i have a bf and everything. sorry riddle please ignore all of this kk tysm ttyl <3
wait one more text before i forget,, if you wanna meet up for tea i wouldn’t mind. we should definitely catch up when i’m not hungover. kk bye fr this time <3
A start is a start. You can’t grow a rose tree without first planting a seed.
#yandere twst#yandere twst x reader#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle#yandere riddle x reader#n/sfw#tw: dubcon
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hi! Can i request Riddle and Vil with a kitsure! Reader who is really strict about their appearance?
Like they wear designer everything, and don’t skip nightly or morning routines?
Kitsune Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
As a kitsune with five tails your youth is far and fleeting. So anything to magical remedies and youth-giving potions are all the rage for you. But of course the age you see in the mirror is nothing but accessories to your cuteness in the eyes of some. Too bad they’d rather you spend the rest of their days by your side:
Riddle Rosehearts
“Please put down the mirror!”
“I tell you Riddle after so long I can just see the fat form on my face everytime I eat something sweet.”
“Agh! Have you no rules (Y/n)!?”
It angers him that a creature of mythical madness is so set on your own beauty when in his eyes you’ve already achieved that
And where you should be involved in all kinds of mischief
Your far too obsessed in an endless pursuit
He can’t help but want to get you on track
Turn your attention from that mirror to him
He’s determined to shift your attention even if it kills others
Vil Schoenheit
“You don’t look a day over a hundred.”
“You mean it? I’ve only had less than a drop from that eternal fountain but I tell you it took off years.”
“I see…care to try a potion of mine? It should have something of the same effect.”
Vanity is something Vil knows well
Surrounded by it in his industry and making it his life
He knows exactly how to lure you in
To bypass your hundreds of years of experience with a quick trick to look youthful
Until he’s prepared a set plan to woo you
He’ll keep it to himself how whatever maturity you retain entrances him
Catching a kitsune is not unheard of and while he’s not one for the mystical he is all for keeping you to himself
A sleeping potion can be considered rejuvenation right
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere twst x reader#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere vil schoenheit#yandere vil#yandere vil schoenheit x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere riddle x reader#yandere vil x reader#yandere riddle
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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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... Dancing with the Heartslabyul prefect, both dressed as a ghost bride and gravekeeper under the full moon.
Riddle had proposed to dance waltz with you in the empty graveyard, and although you two had to look for your friends, having to deny him now seemed rather difficult. And especially when he looks at you with those eyes of his, speaking only of good intentions.
It was only a single dance, and that was it. You and that gravekeeper knew that, and it was why you agreed to it.
But amidst the dancing, the ground under you two quivered. Riddle paid no heed, but you did, often turning to him to speak to him of what is going on.
However, he would only tell you one thing and one thing alone.
"Don't look down."
One part of you never understood what it meant, but it was soon clear as you felt those bony hands crawl up and grab your legs. The outfit did nothing to cover them as they simply scratched you, making you panic.
Still, Riddle did nothing as he continued dancing— watching you panic made him displeased.
Wasn't this befitting for you two? To dance in the graves as the skeletons come alive?
To reassure you, he simply yanked you away from the skeletons, this time spinning you by the sight of the moonlight. You told him that you felt them grab you, but all he did was smile and say that he never saw that happen.
After one last spin, he dipped your body, letting your hair hit the first few petals inside the coffin he prepared.
...
Oh? What's this? Why is your eyes so wide, darling prefect?
Surely you would recognize that body that you see inside.
Isn't that yours?
You were dressed as a bride, were you not?
Silly darling! That was just a prop!
Riddle would be not so uncouth as to have you buried with that fake prop, you know... Even if that prop looked so closely to you.
Nevertheless, seeing you quiver like a leaf, the gravekeeper dragged you back to his arms, covering your eyes by putting his hand behind your head. He can only whisper apologies as you hit his chest...
... Unknowing of the needle he had as he injected it to the nape of your neck, feeling you jolt as your body become heavier from the drug. And especially when the prop gets dragged to the ground to be torn apart.
...
Oh, sweet, little bride. If only you knew just how far his obsession ran.
After all, as the vows go, till death do you part.
And Riddle will never part with you, even if you both die in his coffin of roses.
@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023
#💌 ;; message delivery#💌 ;; from: riddle rosehearts#💌 ;; to: gen. neutral reader#💌 ;; post: twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#disney twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle x reader#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#yandere riddle x reader#yandere riddle#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere#yandere writing#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios
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Stuck in a twisted Wonderland~!
"̶̹̜͖̒͌͐̔͝Ì̵̯̲̦̝̘̯͑͝ ̴̘̮͇͇̬͓̋̐̍d̶̡̧̜̘̰͑ő̶̼̝̑͊͋̊ň̵̡̫̙̟̰̦ͅ'̷̢̤͕̦͖̼͔̇͌̾̀̀͘t̶̘̼̻̠͈̫͗ ̸̡̡̠̙͙͚͎̭̆̔̏̈́͂̀̽́̚͜ų̷̯̌̇͋̚n̵̢̛̖̱̝̻͚͋̍̆͂d̸̯̀̂e̵͖͓̟̭̩͇̠͙̣͕̋͑̓r̵̩̝̣̜̲͉̭̆̉̊̓̕͠š̷̻̣͔̱̻̜̐͘t̵̨̗̦̉̊̐̑̐͊a̵̧̨͙̣̫̬̱̎̃̈̉͘n̴̩̺̞̫͇͓̆͜d̵̟̟͍̭̱̬͙̣̤̒̉͂͛͘͜ ̵̲̎͗͊ẉ̸̫̥͛̌ĥ̸̢̨̪̜̙͙̥͓͂͋̈͛͊̿͒ỷ̴̩̤̙̱͓̦̳ ̶̡̫̬̉y̷̢͚͖̙̦̠̭̎͜o̸̟͎̮͇̻̘͎̱̣̓̂u̸͇̼̱̺͉̱̖̭̠̿͐̔̉̓͑͘̚ ̵̦͇͖̈́w̸̡̢̩̜̳̰̣̙̭͊ȯ̶̫̖̟̼̰̀̓̎ų̴̡͖͈̮͉̞̳͓́̀̅̀̈́͑̿̉͝l̵̡̗̣͔̭̩͛̏̄̃̈͜͝͝ͅḏ̵͓̦͗̚̚ ̴͈͖̦͎͠͝d̷̛̛̤͚̻̼̅̊̏͂̌̃̌͘o̸̧̝͕̟̱͙͕̙̙̘̒ ̷̨̘̣̫͎̤̠̾̍͜͝t̷̛͍̜̫̓͑͂̿͛̀͝h̵̟͑̒̿̌͑̇͘ḯ̶̢̘̩̎ş̷̬̝̦͕͍͙̩̌̍͜ ̸̮̝̱̯̩͒̂̓͆̈́͐̕͠t̵̮̗͖̖̪̯̠͍̬̤̂̓̍o̸̞̼͊̅̃̈́́͝ ̸̨̻͔͍͍̻̫͕͆̚m̴͙͇̰̟͇̹̝̦̊̌̇̚ȅ̷̡̧̹̗͍̬͕̿̋̃̃̈̊͘̚?̸̢̫̘̼̪̹̣͚̆͋̀̀͌̀͘͝"̷͚̞̫͔̫͕̺̰̥͎̀̓͝
Į̸̼̳̥̱̤̤̀̀͑̉̈́ͅͅ ̷̭͇̰͈̪̹̭͂͋̇̕͝d̵̛̘͊̇̑̎̌̍̄̚i̷̻̒̽̐͋̆͝d̵͇̬̞̠͙͌̒͒̓͘͝ ̶̞̮̥͔̫̉a̷̛̜̪̫̥̬̰̼͓̚l̵̻̗̰̮̮̋͜l̵̼͔̟͕̳͑̃͊̓ ̶͈̥̠̰̥̖̗͈̟̚ͅǫ̸̛͇̫͖͂̇́̑́ḟ̸͍̮̯̖͈͇̹̬̓ ̸͕̗̦̞̞̫̦̥̺̐t̵̠͗̀̂͊̍̋͑͝͝h̵̡̬̤͍͍̩̪̣͑̀̅̃͛͝ͅi̷̻̞͓̺͉͌̽̾̈́͋̈́s̴̢̛͍̺̻̼̏̏̉́̋̂͝ ̴̖̯̘̦̳̮͈̹̣͌̀͘F̷̛̬̙̋̑̇̀̂̚Ớ̷͓̪͔̺͍̊̽̀̅̒̿ͅR̸͔̰̠͙̥̼̥̬͒̀͑̐̍̿͒̿̆͜ ̵̧͇̘̘͇͔͈̋̾͊̄ͅy̶͚̒̅̕͝͠ö̶͉̙̙͕̬̹́̒̈́̐͊ͅû̷̧̜̗͓̰̣̯̮̯̰͊̏́̾̈͌̊̿ ̸̨͍̙̮̼̮̦̯̣̏̏̾̌̉̏̊ͅb̴͓̖̈́̒ͅe̵̢̙͉̝̥̬̝̯̎́c̵̻͙̙̝̟̟̿͛̈́͌̕͠͠ͅͅa̷̡̻̱̲̮̰̼̟̒̓̍͒͂͂͗͗̕͜ụ̴͎̃̈́̓s̴̗͖͔̰̗̹̦͈̟͇̎̂̀̄ȩ̷̩̳͍̦͎̦͔̥̟̎̀̚ ̸̨̩̲̳̙͖͂̏̑̀͝I̵̫̖̠̔̆̉̓͊͝ ̷̨̻̖̫̻̼̋̏͆̒̍͗̏̚l̴̦̦̰͈̭̽̚o̴̧̨̧̺̝͔̪̪͚̊̅̀̐̎̈̽̕v̶̝̥̌̆̾̋͌̍͠é̷̡̢͖̤͇̹̱͋̊̽̂͂ ̸̲̟̱͈͍͑̋̌̃̀ͅy̸̭̠͚͆̄̇̇̐̎̀̃͝͝o̸̳̝̩̣̦̟͑͊̊̔̈́͂̍̒̚̚ͅų̸̛̖̹̭̫̊̄̋̓̾́͘̚~̴̣͕̗͎̥͗̏̈̑̊̒͆̚͝
T̷̡̬͎̣̭͉̤́͋̽̈́̋̚͠ͅh̵̼͙̤̟̍̀͑̈́į̷̤̩͓͓̩̺͇̰̝͂̇̎̉̃̕̕s̸̱̔ ̶̡̧̨̥̦̖̻̟̫̹̑͊į̶̛͚̥͎͑͜ş̵̟͎̬̯͎̞̎̔̄̂̃̈̋̆̕͝ ̴̖͔͘̚á̵̲̤̺̲̻̜͚̺͓̗̅̄͑̍͝ ̷̠̻̿̍͑̈́̂͋̆̓ț̶̲̈́͆̕ẁ̷̢͈͉̪̥̗̯́̑̍̿͐̋̈̾̍͜i̶̪̬̰̍̐̑̈́̓̽̓̒͘͠s̸̥͙͖̣̒t̸̨̺̺̲͙͈̃̄͐̇̄́ȩ̷̧̻͎̃̄̓͒̇͗̔̇̐͜͠d̵̛̛̝̒̀̃̏͘͝ ̶͖̲͔̥͍͉̽̍̕͝w̸̖̤͕͋͌̿͐ạ̴̯̫̜̼̱̳͎̠̇͒y̶͖̺͍̳͔̜͇͐́ ̸̞̤̻̰͎̹̳̈́̓̈́͠ǫ̸̛̫͛̆͊̈́͌̕͝f̷̢̞̰̳̦̠͙͍̞̰̆̄͛͛̇̒͘ ̶̢̮̜̼̀̀s̶͎̬̙̜̞̾̽̓̏̈́̏̀͠͝h̸̛̛͓̖̙̗̭̰̝̳͖̓̀̿̈́͜͝ơ̸̹͎̜̥͈̖̝͌͌̐͂̅͐̓͝ŵ̶̫̙̟͚͚̓̈́̆̀͆͐̏͒į̴̖͉̽̓͐̄͊̉̓͂̚ñ̵̛̳͙̥̥̋ġ̸̲̮̹̾̃̾́ ̸̭̥͍̓̌̆͂͝L̸̨̳̲̜̅̐͛̅͌̃͊̈́͂o̸̧̗̮̰̮̺̲̒͛́v̶̜̩̗̳͍̤̩̌́̃͑͌̓̕͘̚̕ẹ̴̹̻̹̖͐͘.̶̧̲͖̎́̏̿̅.̴͈̫̘̘̉̊
W̵̼̭̟͈͚̝̟͔̘͙͊̚ę̴͇̣̟̟̜̘͚̇ ̸̡̛̹̀̌́̊̑a̷͙͚̭̟͔̭̝̱͗̆͘r̷̛͍̫̍͊̽͂͂̈́̀͗͝ę̵̛̟̹̖̩́̓̂̆̉͗͘̕ ̴̢͎̮͔̯͖̘͇͊̏̾͒̄͊͝ǎ̴̡̦̺͉̼̪̳͌l̶̳̦͙̖̼̳̂l̵̡͖͉̬̤̓̎̂̅̀̾͜ ̵̢̩̈͋̏̓̇T̸̜͍͑́͑w̶̧̖̯̲̠̆̇͑͛̕i̶̢̢̛̞͛̓̈́͑̆͒̃͜͠s̴̛̗̜͖̥̳̬̲͌̆̊̈́̓̔̒͝t̸͈̃̈́͋̚e̷̡̻̫̪̤̞͌̓̌̃d̸̙̻̗̞̦͍̪̜̒̂̅̾̈̚͜ ̶̗̱̟̮̠̑̃́̔͛̔̀̚͜a̶̡̫̥̹̰͚̤̗̜̍ņ̴̡��͓̠͎̭̰͖̈́ḑ̶̟͍͇͈͕̘̺̤͂̂̓́͜ ̷̡͎̟̞̜͈͖̟̇͆́̅̓̅͠m̶̲̜̞̈́͐̐̏͂ă̴̯̠̎̇d̴̡̰͚̦̥̦̠͇͐͋̎̏̕͝e̵͙͔͓̅̃̕ ̵̛͈̝̪̪̼̝̏́̈́͘h̷̨̘̰͖̞̮̠̱̱͖̀̒̍͑̈́̓ȇ̶̠̰̖̼̺̞̹̰̫͎̀͑͠͝r̴͔͗ė̵̢͖̫͓̑̌͛̕͝͝ ̶̛͕̻̀̄̌́̂̃̄̓m̷̢͇̪̻͇̯̝̙͓͌̿̏̿̈́͋̕͝y̷͕̤̏͋̽̈́͠ ̴͎͔̝̜̉̓̿́̿̏͠͠R̸͙͚̱̜͖̹͇̻̈́͑ͅͅȏ̵̡̻̞̫̳́s̴̡̨̡͖̥̝͓͍̊̈́ę̴̧͓̟̰͉̩̺͖͗͐͐̐̀́~̵̨̹̤̻͚͂̔̀͗̋̑̓͛̀͜͝
As he walked towards you he whispered in your ear.
Ḛ̷̡̠͚͕͒͗̆̓̽͜s̵̢̡̨̭̪̞̭͙̹̥̽͐̿̍̂̽p̷̠̱̲̮͖͆ȩ̷̞̱͇̯̗̩̟̔͘ç̸̧̧̰̼̥̯̞̙͍͐̈́̍̒̔̍̽͐͝i̵̢̛̤̰͒̽̍̓͂͜a̸̭̱̎͆͒͛̀l̸̡̡̛̩̩͈̮̭̫͎̮̓̍͑̃͂̂͝l̴̛̼͓̱͖̼͕͚̔̅̈́̆͊̾̏̀̒ÿ̸̗͕͓̳́́̄͗̈́ ̶̜̓̾͋́́͝͝Ů̷͉̳̖͉͙̞̦̺̬͉͆ş̵͍̮͕̥̻̱̤͊̊̄̃̀̀̈͋̓̚~̷̡̓̀͆̉̃͑̿͘̚
Part 1 Part 2 part 3
~
[Name] [Last name} who was an adorable and kind person who was adored by their Village because they were the nicest and kindest and respected by the. Which is true they were all that but they were too curious for their own good, so that's why their big sister and best friend were always there to look out for them.
~
[Name] was just on top of a tree that was thick and sturdy enough for them to stay on top, while they watched as their sister just read a book like always, every single day in the same spot while their best friend was in the village doing whatever she always does in the Village.
"I'm so bored Aria! What can I even do?" [Name] whined to their sister who was reading a book called "Alice In Wonderland"
Ariana looked up from her book to see [Name] hanging from the tree and swinging slightly while looking at her book.
"Are you reading Alice In Wonderland?" [Name] asked their sister who sighed and nodded. "Have you read it yet?" Ariana asked while [Name] shook their head.
Ariana sighed at [Name] who was looking at their sister and the book in their sister's hands.
"But I'm planning to soon!" [Name] said and decided to jump down from the tree that they were on just a few seconds ago and stumbled a bit but quickly regained their balanced.
Ariana once again sighed while slightly shaking her head but decided to continue reading.
"I'm so bored! Oh! I'll be right back Ari!" [Name] said and went off to where the Village while Ariana was looking at her sister as they began to grow smaller and smaller till they weren't in her sight anymore.
"Wonder what she's going to do now" Ariana thought but decided to continue reading her book.
[Name] was looking for someone in the Village and then they finally found them.
[Name] Ran up to the person they were looking for and hugged them tightly.
"Meuri! I am so glad that I found you! [Name] said and hugged Meuri even tighter while Meuri tried to breath.
"[Name] can you let me go? Your currently choking me! Meuri said while [Name] finally realized what they were doing and let go of Meuri while Meuri was taking deep breaths.
[Name] backed up a bit while Meuri sighed in relief that [Name] had finally let her go and turned around to look at them.
"What do you need [Name]? Aren't you supposed to be with Ari? Meuri said while both her and [Name] decided to take a walk around the Village and chatting with each other in the meantime.
~
"So what are you doing here anyways?" Meuri asked while [Name] looked like they finally remembered something.
"Ah!! That's right! I almost completely forgot why I came here and find you right now!" [Name] said panicking and grabbed Meuri's hands and dragged her somewhere until they were in front of a flower shop stall.
Meuri looked confused for a moment until she realized what was happening now.
After all they do this everyday.
[Name] said hi to the stall owner and bought flowers alongside with their sister's favorites and their best friend's favorites as well. Actually the stall owner knew what they were going to get now since they always buy the same thing over and over again almost every day now.
"Alright that will be si-" Before the Stall Owner could finish his sentence [Name] did it for him.
"Six Thaumarks yup I know!" [Name] said and clapped their hands in delight.
"Alright goodbye and thank you [Name]! And Meuri!" The stall Owner said and both [Name] and Meuri went their mary ways and went to where Ariana was.
You can also read this in Wattpad!
The reader is also like Alice in Wonderland and there will be more stories to come that is connected this this story! But yeah bye!
#atier's works✎#Riddle rosehearts x reader#Yandere Riddle Rosehearts#Yandere Riddle Rosehearts x reader#Yandere Twisted Wonderland#Twisted Wonderland x reader#Yandere twst#Yandere twst x reader
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