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merotwst · 1 year

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DRAGGED MY FEET RIGHT DOWN THE ISLE !

‹ . housewardens ›

. ficlets

⇝stuck in a failing and/or loveless marriage with them.

[ n: thank u for 600 followers, everyone! special thanks to @v-anrouge and @/love-thanatopsis for helping me so much with this fic i love u sm this is for u i hope u like it ! not proofread. ]

{ - - - → tw. angst. cheating, alcohol, arguments, aggression, mention of children on kalim's part, gaslighting, mentions of divorce, unhappiness and basically anything u would associate with marriages that just aren't working out exdee. just sad vibes here so stick around if ure in the mood to cry </3 }

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riddle rosehearts ‹ heartslabyul ›

he sat behind his desk, rubbing his temples in exhaustion. but despite the lingering tiredness of the day, you would think riddle would be ready to head himself to bed and get some proper rest, right? wrong. he feels like a man being sent off to war.

he'd have much rather spent the night in his office with a blanket and a pillow on the couch. the neck pain would be an easier form of misery to endure than having to spend an hour in a room with tension he often compares to a sinking ship with no lifeboats.

it almost seemed like you lived in separate worlds. he worked, you did whatever it is a dutiful partner does. only you did it far, far away. to your parties you went and talked to your friends, to his meetings he went and shared some good brandy with his own company. you both come home and head to your own separate chambers.

when you're out together you put on a good display of affections for everyone to see. holding hands, kissing each other on the cheek, smiling as if it were all just you against the world. how suffocating.

but behind the facade is an empty world. an empty house. empty hearts. just the clinking of sliver ware on the quiet dinner table sitting eight feet away from each other on both ends. silence was the only way to keep yourselves afloat. distance was your own form of a makeshift lifeboat because your vows at the altar were your own ways of saying it was ‘every man for himself’.

you were two strangers forced to live under the same roof.

and if it were not for his mother trying to salvage your miserable marriage—the marriage of her own engineering—by getting you both to sleep in the same room together, he would have been perfectly content with that dull, dreary, miserable lifestyle. the lifestyle once again, enforced onto him by his beloved mother.

the redhead leaned forward from his leather chair. a breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth. his hand reached for the whiskey on the table and took one last sip before standing up, mentally hoping you were out to a party with your insufferable company of people. because if not, it's going to be another long night of sad, silent agony in a king sized bed—a sinking ship with no lifeboats.

⑇

leona kingscholar ‹ savanaclaw ›

“open this door right now, [name]! stop acting like a damn brat!”

as the prince yells out that last word he pounds on the door more aggressively than he initially did. it echoed across the halls. the sounds reverberate and bounce back to reach his ears reminding him of the torment of his existence. all his efforts, efforts he never wanted to exert, all come in for naught. this always happens to him. this was the bane of his existence. falena gets the light shone in his face and the cheers and acknowledgement of everyone around him, he gets to pound on a door trying to get his partner to come out of their bathroom because they are late to the party where it was essential they should attend.

‘it takes two to tango’, they say. how does one dance when the other party can't even sit down for one second and look you in the eye without making you feel like you're the biggest burden to have ever arrived in his life? how does one cope with the resentment that's so evidently there? the contempt held for you when you enter a room together and he immediately drops your hand the second everyone starts looking away? you aren't his partner. you are nothing but a prop to him. to get his family off his back. he couldn't even do as much as acknowledge you whenever you entered your chambers alone.

people surround you day after day but you've never felt more alone in your life.

and as leona banged and screamed and twisted the knob the way he twisted your heart up and squeezed it dry, you pulled your knees close to your chest. biting your quivering lower lip till the metallic taste of blood filled your senses.

the light from the open door illuminates the room. your comfortable corner in the bathroom invaded by the lion's dominating presence. and as he watched you, gripping the fabric of your attire like it was your only other anchor to sanity, you felt him soften. ever so slightly, his shoulders eased up. his eyebrows raised a little from their initial cross direction and his eyes showed a hint of melancholy—no... pity. his shadow loomed over your curled up form, cast from the light outside that only reached you and him.

he did not do anything else. he just slightly clutched the key he held in his hands that he used to open the door a little tighter. he watched you for a moment, as if he were observing a small animal being cornered by a predator. silence enveloped the room only broken by your occasional pathetic sniffle and sob. he then turned on his heels.

“change your clothes, they're all wrinkly now. we leave in ten minutes.”

he closed the door to the room and the darkness enveloped you once more.

⑇

azul ashengrotto ‹ octavinelle ›

the vase shattered as it hit the wall barely missing your husband's head. all the jewelry on your dresser tossed and strewn all across the floor. the clothes, the shoes and all the other vain things he'd given you as a consolation for never being home, never being available, never being a husband.

the thing about azul was that he could be a good actor whenever he wanted to be. it's essential for a businessman to know when to play a poker face, when to seem interested or whatnot. he'd mentioned that in passing back then when he would actually talk to you before you were married but now you forget the details. now that you think about it, back then he must have been acting, too. to gain your affections. to make you fall in love with him. so he can achieve his own greedy little goals. you look over at him and can't help a bitter laugh escape your throat.

he gave you a sharp look, “what is it that you find so humorous in this situation, darling?” the businessman asked in a mocking voice, “finally gone mad, have we?”

you turn to him, a small, resentful grin on your face, “oh honey you know i'm always mad for you!” you scream the last part as you hurled one of your favorite shoes at him. your husband was quick to evade this causing it to fly directly to one of your bedroom lamps. the two items fell to the floor with a clatter and smash. the sound of breaking glass mirrored your breaking heart.

azul opened his mouth, a string of insults flowing from his tongue so freely and you mirrored this by shooting your own painful words at his direction. the mingling angry voices bounced across the four walls of the room.

this was not the life you envisioned with him. where was the sweet, suave man that held your hand so gently and softly as he brought you to dinner? where was the kind, generous soul and took a short portion of his day to see you and personally deliver his flowers to you? where was the funny, charismatic person that charmed your family so much they were practically begging you to marry him? where was the husband that vowed to love and to cherish you at the altar?

that man was replaced by the empty space on your bed, the flowers delivered to you by random people you didn't know, the shoes and clothes and other ridiculous things he probably doesn't even pick out himself. and you would sit alone at your home, in front of a full sized mirror that reflected your pathetic state by showing you the tears that streamed down your face night after night that azul spent on his stupid company. the company which you made possible for him by marrying him. what a fool you are.

objects flew, tears shed, hearts broken.

but the saddest of all is that each and every one these things only seem to come from your side of the room and not his.

⑇

kalim al-asim ‹ scarabia ›

you sat in your bedroom, watching the seconds tick by. the clock's hands showed it was two in the morning. normally you would expect a married couple to be in bed together asleep at this hour, but not for you. these days, it seemed to be a somewhat better though. as of late, he was usually out because of the hectic pressures of being head of the family and jamil would attest to this fact.

he'd promised you he wouldn't see her anymore. you wanted to make it work. you begged him to try to make it work with you—even if only for the children. and he agreed. and somehow, this sparked some home in your bitter situation. and that made it bearable for you.

you sat, then stood, then paced, then sat again. restless energy built up in your body thinking of what to say to him when he comes through the door. things were looking up and you wanted to help him relax after another very stretched out day. it's the least you can do for him. after all, no matter what the situation, kalim was always kind to you. he always made you feel like you mattered and listened and made you feel valid. you are essentially the parent to his children and so he made sure he was treating you well to an extent.

but that... that just isn't enough. you're his partner. you needed to feel like his partner. someone he could turn to, someone he could talk to, someone he could run to whenever things got bad. but kalim always kept you at arm's length. he was your husband but he could never completely be a husband.

because he did not love you.

he loved—loves her.

it shows on his disheveled hair. it shows on the perfume that you smell on his clothes. it shows on the lipstick stains on his neck. it shows on the look of shock on his face when he sees you awake. waiting. disappointed.

your twiddling fingers drop to your sides the same way your heart dropped and shattered on the floor. the exhaustion evident on your features when you sit down heavily on the soft cushions of the sofa.

“[name]... i... i thought you were asleep...” kalim sputtered out. he sounded like a child who was just caught snooping around the kitchen late at night.

if only it were as simple as stealing cookies from the kitchen cupboard at two-thirty.

“and i thought we were trying, kalim,” you replied flatly.

he didn't respond. you didn't want to stay. you couldn't. so you stood up and looked him straight in the eye—they looked guilty. and... they feel sorry for you. you hated it.

you turned around, not giving him time to finish whatever ‘explanation’ he had come up with again. you couldn't bear it. you refuse to cry for him—not anymore. you're exhausted and you couldn't bear to be inside that suffocating room with him any longer.

“i'll sleep with the children tonight.” you say before heading to the door leaving your husband and your broken heart along with him.

⑇

vil schoenheit ‹ pomefiore ›

‘there's no business like show business!’

this is true for the most part. it has its ups and downs but vil personally never had much of a say in the matter of whether he would be in the public eye or not. all his life he'd been under the spotlight. the blinding flashes of the cameras, the bright lights of the stage, the softboxes and umbrellas that would make any normal person squint and and turn away don't even make him flinch. but that's not to say it wasn't exhausting.

of course that was the small price to pay for a profession such as vil's. he has made the many greater sacrifices to get where he is in life. and although people who don't live the lifestyle he had would feel the intimidation of the showbiz world, he was surprised you didn't seem like it bothered you much at all.

the people of twisted wonderland adored you when you both started dating. it all seemed like a perfect fairy tale whenever they saw you and vil liked that. of course they weren't really far off. at the beginning it did seem like a fairy tale. you were perfect and even to himself it felt too good to be true.

and sure enough, it was.

majority of your dating life with vil was private but later down the line, after you got married, you both became more public about it. posting more pictures, going out together, attending events.

headlines of ‘the perfect couple’ turn into ‘the luckiest man alive’(referring to vil), to ‘[name]! the real star of the show’.

wherever vil went, people would ask for you. even in movie interviews meant for him—starring him. they were looking for you. they wanted you. they, “only really came because we thought [name] would be here!” in events where he was supposed to be the main attraction.

it's always you, you, you.

and at first he didn't mind. he was proud to have you as his partner. he even did feel like he was the happiest man alive for a while. but the more people asked for you, the more he felt the disappointment and sadness morph into something more bitter. his years and years of endless hard work and silent suffering against neige all came crashing back down in a repeating dance of fighting for acknowledgement. to be recognized as himself. and he thought he was finally over all that. working twice as hard and feeling—being overlooked. but you... he knows you don't do it on purpose. it's not your fault you're so easy to love. vil knows you would never purposefully overshadow him but whenever he sees you in the red carpet waving and smiling at the crowds all cheering and chanting your name like you were some sort of otherworldly being, he couldn't compete.

the way they all run to you without even so much as acknowledging his presence beside you felt the same as getting thrown tomatoes at and booed to him. and he remembers he was even booed at some point for not bringing you along on a public trip!

he didn't know when the sadness fully morphed into bitter resentment but whenever you were alone he found himself criticizing your every move. his subtle, snide remarks of your (perfectly well) clothes turned into full on insults. sometimes he would even guilt you into not attending events you were exclusively invited to.

and he knows you would never betray him. so you take it all quietly. you knew leaving vil would only villanize him more in the public eye. no matter what, he was still your husband and you made a sacred promise on the altar.

you both smile for the cameras in public, the mirage of the most perfect couple to be advertised to the whole of twisted wonderland. but behind closed doors are the heated arguments, the endless screaming, the nights you spent alone in your once lovely home curled up in bed.

your husband might have loved you once, and this hurts him just as much to admit—but vil can never love you again in circumstances like this. but you're both given no choice but to bear it.

there really is no business like show business.

⑇

idia shroud ‹ ignihyde ›

there is no doubt idia shroud is a clever man. he’s a genius in more ways than one. he knows how to stand out in his own. he knows how to turn a situation in his favor and this isn’t just because of his years and years of experience in strategy games or looking for ways to try and escape social situations he hates so much, but also because he’s just a master at running away from situations.

the only situation people thought he could never escape from was standing with you at the altar. the “most horrifying” day of his life.

to think a hermit shut-in nobody like him would find himself in a lifelong commitment with someone is just absurd. but here you are in your miserable state of trying to get him to get out of his room. constantly bugging him to spend time with you—he’s already married you! is that not enough?

idia shroud is a clever man. he’s a genius in more ways than one. he knows how to turn a situation in his favor. and he’s spent enough time with you to know exactly how to break you without getting his hands dirty.

he finds himself buying a different house, far from where you are. under the guise of working better with no distractions. lies of saying he would call but never did.

endless nights of you pacing your room, phone to your ear hearing the ringing over and over and over again.

it just kept ringing and ringing and you wanted it to stop. you needed it to stop. you needed an answer.

and when the other line of your connection was the sound of company—of a companion—who was willing to give you the attention you deserved from such a cruel life, idia finally shows himself.

idia shroud is a clever man. he’s a genius in more ways than one. he knows how to turn a situation in his favor. and he’s always known how to win a game. you've fallen into his trap. he has the receipts of your conversations with the other person you were seeing, the photographs, the evidence. and as he slid the piece of paper and pen towards you on the other side of the table, a cocky grin on his face feeling like he'd finally got exactly what he wanted, he caught a glimpse of your sadness.

your melancholy in the way you picked up the pen and read through the divorce papers of his orchestrating. idia felt a tsunami of guilt wash him away as the sight of all the pain he caused you was so vividly clear to him now. but instead of signing, you drew a line across the piece of paper that was his path to ‘freedom’. and what idia saw that replaced the sadness in you was anger. resentment. betrayal of the worst kind.

there is no doubt india shroud s a clever man. he’s a genius in more ways than one.

but he is also a fool to think you were going to take all these hits lying down.

⑇

malleus draconia ‹ diasomnia ›

people had given you a heads up before you got married that malleus draconia was a serious man.

he married you, sure, but you didn't know what you expected out of this marriage. after all, a marriage arranged by two families didn't really promise much on the love department and your made peace with that.

but you didn't expect the lack of affection to be in this extent.

he wouldn't touch you, let alone even look you in the eye. malleus was constantly busy in his study or going out to attending other formal gatherings. The only times he would come around to spending a portion of his day with you was during dinner. and they were long, painfully quiet dinners.

he had a duty as the prince of briar valley, after all. but you understood that. but sometimes you lie around your empty bedroom thinking about how your life could have been so much more better. the agonizing silence, the awkward touches, the forced smiles. it all felt so terribly depressing.

surely your husband could at least pretend to be comfortable when he's spending the day around you. but somehow it's always just some form of... indifference. whenever you would show small forms of affection like touching his hand or giving him a kiss, he would just stand there, not returning. not reflecting the same amount of affections as you did with him.

and of course you tried your best to make it better. consulting those closest to him to you try to understand him whenever he talked about things he was interested in. you tried to show support on his projects and his interests. you even tried to get invested into the gargoyles and architecture he so dearly loved and finally you thought it worked.

the occasional invite to tea, the small acknowledgements, the small talks about the things he liked. you felt like all your hard work started to pay off.

but when you made your way through the long corridors of the castle with a box of something special in your hands picked especially for the prince one afternoon, your feet came to a halt in front of the mahogany double doors of his study.

two voices—muffled by the barrier between you and the people in the room but it was enough to hear the all important parts of the conversation.

“it all is such a pain, lilia,” he said, “they're constantly trying to catch ny attention. to show me affection. but it all just feels so... miserable.

“i have tried to take your advice. to be more open and responsive to their advances but it just doesn't work. i cannot love them the way they want me to.”

the conversation goes on but you could no longer listen. the ringing in your ears were far louder drowning out any other sound around you.

you made your way back to your chambers silently slipping away.

that night malleus asked about the present left in front of his study and you only sighed softly in response

“it's simply my misery, sir.”.

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spadecentral · 11 months

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🚅 Trainwreck | Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

>> requested: no >> a/n: happy birthday @faera-archive!!!

>> masterlist: here!! >> summary: ridde has too much fun spending time with you >> reader prns: they/them >> warning(s): none

Riddle Rosehearts loved you. He loved you so, so much. His whole world started to revolve around you. He started to slack off on his studies, even if it was only by a little bit. He wanted to spend more time with you, promising himself to do his work when he came back. But he always went straight to sleep when he got back to his room, exhausted from having the time of his life with you.

His (almost) perfect grades dropped from 99 percents to 85 percents. He forgot to complete homeworks and both his dorm and he suffered because of it.

Standing in front of you, he swore it hurt him more to break up with you than you. He suffered knowing that you didn’t know how much his mother would mentally abuse him for letting his grades slip for staying with you. With you, it was perfect. And yet his mother couldn’t care about anything other than grades. He hated that you would cry and sob, probably for days, over him breaking up with you. And he tried so hard to not cry in front of you. But he could feel the tears welling in he back of his eyelids as he said, “I’m breaking up with you.”

And as tears welled in your eyes, you asked, “Why?”

And all he could do was turn and leave you behind, wishing he didn’t have to.

#twstnexus #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle x reader #twst riddle #riddle x reader #riddle twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts angst #riddle angst #riddle rosehearts x you #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #@.twst.works

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maopll · 1 year

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Helloooo! I saw your ,,pretty boy" post i love it!

I hope I don't break any rules or make you uncomfortable but I would like to request something.

I absolutely love hurt/comfort where reader is the one that comfort the character. So can I request nightmare comfort with overblot gang? (If not then maybe only Leona and Malleus) Let's say they cry in their sleep bc they were dreaming about hurting their s/o and they wake up without reader anywhere. Let say they went to bathroom or to get water and they come back seeing their lover in tears?

I hope it's not too much! Feel free to ignore it

(and can I be 🫐 anon? I think I will be here a lot ;D )

I will be by your side

a/n: 🫐 anon you did not break any rules and thanks for the hurt comfort I crave these. forgive me but I couldn't find a suitable picture for this fic :") and I'm not doing everyone but ills include riddle with leona and malleus

characeters: leona, malleus, riddle

warning: graphic content, nightmares, blood, please do not read if you're uncomfortable !

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Leona Kingscholar

leona doesn't really admit it but he saw the face you made when he was sane after he overbloted he saw how touching your hands made you flinch

it pained him how just a simple touch from him made you flinch and your lips shaked from it

now he saw a nightmare which was like a fuel to his fears

he overbloted and hurted you

your breathing ragged with a big wound on your stomach as blood gushed out from it onto the floor

he was just standing there as if he froze and he was not even moving his hand

he wanted to scream but nothing came out

until your body suddenly dissipated

he jolted from his bed

he saw how much he was sweating but he got more scared when he couldn't find you beside him

he ran to find wherever you were just please don't disappear

then he saw you pouring yourself a glass of water

you noticed leona and rushed over to him because he was in a really REALLY bad condition

he just hugged you close and didn't say a word. all he wanted was to feel you and take in the scent which would always calm his nerves

Malleus Draconia

malleus never really had any nightmares and he never used to dream that much

if he ever did he would usually forget them

but after his overblot with you being there on the scene terrified of him because he was no longer sane was the most heart breaking sight he ever saw and vowed to never hurt you

but why

just why were you dying in his arms ?

you face no longer smiling and having the warmth which helped him go through the toughest of days and the sweet voice that would lul him to sleep

unable to take in the sight infront of him he shouted to the top of his lungs

then he woke up in cold sweat but then he started to panic when you were no longer found beside him

he scurried from the bed just to find you in the bathroom

he broke down right there and you got so confused about it, but you didn't question because he clearly had a mental breakdown right now so you just kissed his tear stained cheeks

Riddle Rosehearts

he noticed how scared and terrified you were of him when he overbloted

so after the whole situation he made sure to comfort you a lot and not be so rude to you like he was before all that happened

he stated keeping his anger in check but how did all of this happen?

how is your once lively face now pale and cold?

why is your body covered in red roses and thorns which pierced right through your body ?

why was the ground near you and the poison ivy and thorns covered in blood?

oh right

he was the reason why your lifeless body now lies infront of him while he just stood there

he wanted to scream, cry and run away and just forget that all of it ever happened and you never died you would be there in your dorm waiting when your lovely boyfriend would come back

all his thoughts soon disappeared as you shook him awake

he was crying so bad his eyes were red and hair was sticking to his forehead with how much he was sweating

he didn't want to tell you what happened and just said that it was a bad nightmare

he swore that he would never allow that to happen to you

he just cuddled you close for the rest of the night as you stroked his hair to soothe him

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twst wonderland #twst fluff #twst angst #twst leona #leona x reader #twst malleus #malleus x reader #twst riddle #riddle x reader #malleus fluff #malleus angst #leona fluff #leona angst #riddle fluff #riddle angst

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cvlutos · 1 year

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TW: ANGST & DISCOMFORT

"By the Great Seven! Have you no patience! No time to sit and do what you need to do, then follow me like some dog! Are you not tired—cause I very much am. You linger like some cloud, destined to hover over me as if without me, you ceased to exist. At first I thought endearing, but now it is nothing but bothersome.

And I understand that you... Feel for me... But if this feeling for me is so suffocating I rather do without. You within the last few days... Have brought me nothing but annoyance and every minute I spend breathing within the vicinity of you, I feel as if I am choking.. I have tried to be nice, yet with such a thick skull you seem quite unable to take a hint. At some poimt, I went from seeing you as a complete nuisance to utterly pathetic. I have tried my very best to be polite, but you have me grasping at straws. I can no longer feign ignorance to you, so I must and will need you to leave me alone. Permanently."

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Since you asked, @chinmon-spam

#t.manor.drabbles #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts x gn reader #twisted Wonderland #twst #twst riddle #twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader #twisted Wonderland x reader angst #twst angst #riddle angst #riddle rosehearts angst #tw discomfort #tw angst

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twistedblunderhand · 5 months

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Riddle angst:

His mom purposely malnourished him purposely so he would be a) dependent on her and b) never able to overpower her and c) more “feminine”

#twst headcanons #tw abuse #riddle angst #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland

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incorrecttom · 1 year

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“It does hurt to think that - that they'd throw me away like this, but a little pain is good, or so I think? It's a reminder of good memories I spent with them after all -”

That's what you'd say when you both decided to end things. To put your little affair to rest, to finish those secret meetings in the night. To keep themselves awake so you can just get a mere glimpse of your lover. To laugh, to cry, to be together-

And to love. But...all the good things, must come to an end, right-?

Which it did, the affair was cut short. It was almost as if your worlds had been broken, it was no longer the magic that you held. They were always ending with fights, screams.

And now, that you realize it, that things might have been a little different you would go back to the times and fix them.

But those thoughts were not for you to think, presently. The tears stung as your vision blurred while watching them giggle and laugh. You couldn't help wonder what went wrong?

Why weren't you by their side?

Vil | Riddle | Oikawa | Atsumu |

#sorry for tagging #well idk who all I should add from obey me lmao-#but ehhh-#(and half of the moots don't have their characters mentioned-)#🥲🥲#anyways #twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland angst #angst #vil twisted wonderland #vil angst #riddle angst #oikawa angst #atsumu angst #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu angst

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iamlittlelostsoul · 1 year

Note

Since I didn't see any rules I'll request it based on my own taste!

✎ Riddle Roseheart x reader (can be they/them, he/him, she/her) angst: Imagine dancing to the music, dancing with him on the day of your marriage yet at the end of the day it wasn't you but just your ghost and his broken heart.

✎ Malleus Draconia x reader (same thing) angst: Flower language with Malleus, giving him flowers was a normal occurrence yet on the day you left him, a bouquet mixed with Purple hyacinths and Tulips.

✎ Silver x reader (same thing) angst: The joy of one person can be shared through simple acts, but what if those daily activities are what brought your separation?

here's my masterlist! just incase anyone is interested ><

Hello @whatevermywpis!!! THX for dropping by!!!

I'll do my best in writing all your Req's ideas!! And yes just like what I most of the time use reader is still going to be gender neutral.

But I'll start with your first idea! ^v^

Hope you'll like it >//<

Their Final Waltz

Riddle Roseheart x gn!reader

A lovely tune play in the background at a lovely ballroom.

'It was our favorite melody.' he thought smiling at them as they smile back at him.

There were not so many people invited to this celebration...only people closest to them.

The guests enjoyed the party with the couple some were enjoying themselves with wine, and food, chatting with the other fellow guests, while some are on the dance floor but all are equally happy for such a lovely event.

Riddle stood from his seat as he heard the main song play. He offers them his hand with a bright smile, and they take it as happy as he.

The two walked to the center of the room. Then Riddle faces his partner, taking the lead as he places one of his hands on their partner's waist while the other still latched on their hand.

Moving along with the music, they danced. Riddle's eyes shimmered with love and happiness. He finally married her/him and he's finally their husband!

"I can't believe we've finally reached to this point. We've went through so much and finally, we are wed!" he happily says as he lead his partner.

"Mmh, I know right! It felt like it were only yesterday were we fight the blots and all those crazy events!" they said giggling as Riddle spins them around.

"hehehe...am sorry for that one time too. I swear it will never happen again." he says determined and truly a little guilty.

"Aww~ Riddle no need to apologize! It's all in the past, and besides everything's all good already!" they said kissing Riddle on his cheeks.

"Hey! Under the queen of heart's order Rule number-....oops- habits." He says laughing.

"Hahahaha! This is why your coworkers are a tiny bit afraid of you."

"Hey! Im trying, ok..." he says with a slight pout.

"Hehehehe~ I know. And you're doing so well!" they said leaning their forehead on Riddle's.

"Mmh..." he says happily nodding as he too leans his forehead on them.

"Riddle?"

"Yeah?"

"You should try doing 'that' too...." they said as they stopped dancing and looks him straight in the eye.

"That? What do you mean?" He asks confused.

"You know what I meant Riddle...." they look at him with pity as they let go of his hand and moves a step back from him.

Riddle looks at them shocked and confused. Everyone that was dancing with them were now all at the sides.

"huh, what do you mean love?" He says as he reaches his hand towards them.

"....you know, It's time...to move on...Riddle" they said as Riddle's hand passes through their body.

"Wait- no nonono! Please don't go...you-you're not dead yet." he says dropping to his knees, tears threatening to come out. "You're not dead yet.....you..are not dead."

"I wish so...maybe next time. But not now...let's meet again and finish our favorite song?" They said...as Riddle notices their body looking more transparent.

They sat down beside Riddle and looks at him with pity. "Hey....it's not your fault ok?...I will forever love you." They said with a pain-filled smile before disappearing.

Riddle broke down. He wailed and cried as he hits the floor repeatedly. He wailed and cried as his best friend Trey and Chenya runs up to his side and tries to console him...same goes with his other friends like Cater, Ace, and Deuce.

"It was my fault..." he cried in Trey's arms. "I could have saved them.....I-I could have...yet I wasn't able to do so. I-I failed them."

"Riddle no is to be blamed....it was too sudden. We were all too late." Trey says as he hugs his friend.

All the lavishing decorations, all the flowers, all the food, and the whole party...could never felt so dull and dark.

Why oh why do the gods have to be so cruel sometimes?

...To take such a lovely person to a lonely man.

It always have to be the kindest and purest of heart that lives the shortest...

If only an event like when they were still at school happened for him....something like when the ghost Eliza comes to get her groom.

Riddle would have taken their hand unhesitatingly if it were them looking for a groom. He would gladly wed them and follow them to the afterlife.

'Hah, his mother is truly right about this one...love along with a very lonesome goodbye truly made him mad.' And he misses them dearly...

The warmth of their skin, felt cold to touch.

The sound of their gentle voice, never to be head again...

Their sweet gentle smile, now buried 6 feet under.

And the pranks and tricks...the rule breaking and everything....he would never see nor witness it again.

And all he could do is break down and cry.

Cry and scream his aching heart out.

"My love...how am I to move on?...how could I ever live a proper life without you...my beautiful rose."

<...End>

#littlelostsoul #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle twst #riddle x y/n #twst riddle #riddle angst #twisted wonderland #tw: death #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst angst

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justyoureverydaytwstsimp · 9 months

Text

was going to make a "you with your least fav character" with this, but Riddle's hair was on the female's and I couldn't help myself.

#riddle rosehearts #Riddle rosehearts mom #Mrs rosehearts #Twst angst #Riddle angst #Picked #For fun #I enjoy tears #Riddle rosehearts angst #Angst kinda

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olivyh · 1 year

Note

omg!??! Your work is so entertaining!! U deserve more attention! u are very good at writing angst, amazing!!!! I dont know how to explain it while reading ur work, i felt very amused and satisfied ! Very pleasing written story!! In my eyes, ur work is unique

Absolute obsessed with ur ruggie x reader and leona x reader, secretly hoping for more stuff like these

Could u please do riddle x reader angst to comfort/fluff if u have free time ?

Thank you so much <<33!!!!!! I also love, LOVE the different colors in this request- it makes my brain vvvv happy because it's bright!!!!!!!!! I also love the fact that people are actually requesting angsty things because it gives me an excuse to do character analysis' and fanfics at the same time <<333 enjoy!

TW: Mentions of abuse, slight panic attacks

Riddle was not always treated with cruelty. He was pampered the first few months of his life, being treated with care by the maids and the servants.

He remembered being told that, when he was a newborn, even his mother was doting and affectionate. He was told how she would read him stories every night, she would rock him gently when he was getting too fussy and would whisper into his small ears while he whines and whimpered, small, pale face turning red from the hungered wailing. Oftentimes, he would lie awake at night and try to remember those days, try to feel the way her soft hands would feel as they stroked his chubby cheeks.

Riddle would find his mind wandering during those endless lessons, racing to find any explanation as to why she'd stopped treating him with such care, why she'd decided that she would no longer act as a mother, but as a tyrant.

Even as a child, he would hold his own hands up to his face and caress his soft skin, trying to desperately pretend that they were hers as he rubbed them up and down. His own hands even felt too cold against his face, the chill sending shivers down his spine.

It was all wrong. His hands were always too small, and his shoulders ached from how long he held the uncomfortable position. His thumbs would never run over his forehead in the way he'd imagined hers to, and his hands were far too calloused to even attempt to compare to her own. He would lower his hands to his sides and bunch them in the soft silk of his blankets, gritting his teeth as he stared at the ceiling with blurred vision and muffled sniffles that sounded all too loud in the vastness of his childhood bedroom.

He would often comfort himself in the way he'd imagined her to, positioning his pillows to resemble a person's torso and resting his head against it, wrapping his arms around the center of it and trying not to squeeze too hard in fear of ruining the fragile fantasy he'd created. He would imagine her playing with his hair softly, tried to desperately imagine the feeling of her chest rising and falling with breaths that would come out as delicate birdsong, twirling through the air with the goal of putting the boy to rest with a peaceful sleep. She would rub his shoulders and back as he cried, hushing him and pulling the blanket tighter around the both of them. He would pretend that the blood rushing through his ears was her heartbeat as it pounded in her chest, that the loose fabric of the pillowcase was her nightgown as he gripped onto it for dear life and tried to muffle his sobs to hide it from any curious ears walking past his door.

Some days he would even imagine his father coming home late from one of his many business trips and sitting on his opposite side, fixing the blankets and speaking to his mother in hushed, loving tones as Riddle drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Riddle had gotten used to laying down on his sleeve, knowing all too well that the servants would notice the dried tear stains and the stains of his runny nose on the pillow when they would clean his bed sheets. He knew better than that. He would lay on his sleeve and cry until his mind and body were too exhausted to continue through the night, then he would wake in the morning and wash off his sleeve before crawling back into bed silently and pretending to be asleep until his nanny came in and woke him up for the day.

He'd fallen into this same routine at NRC, with an added layer of sorrow when he would pass by friend groups who grew silent at the sound of his heels clicking against the marble. Their laughter would bounce off the walls and would send a mysterious pang that shook him to the core and made his knees weak and his eyes watery. He felt as though he were an outsider to this strange new world, as though he were a puzzle piece that did not create a whole picture, no matter how much he tried.

He was lonely, he'd decided. He was lonely and bitter, and so unbearably cold that he wanted to sit beside the fireplace and never leave despite knowing all too well that even the suffocating heat of the flame could not thaw the ice that had settled in his bones.

Riddle was used to the isolation that came with his house, how it would never truly feel like a home no matter what he did to make himself as comfortable as possible. He was used to spending endless days in his study, barely seeing the sunlight until his skin had paled to the extent where he could crane his neck and see the delicate blue veins that traced patterns beneath his thin skin. The darkness crept around every corner, was buried within the pages of every textbook and had managed to worm itself into every spell and rule that he had committed to heart.

There was no spell to make him friends, he knew that much.

But... nobody had taken the time to teach him the proper way to make a friend. Nobody had sat him down and given him a lesson on how to socialize properly, nobody had taught him what to do and what not to do, how to act in different situations, what is alright to say or not. Riddle was... guessing. His whole life, every interaction depended on the flip of a coin or the roll of a dice.

That's why he truly felt terrible when he had first met the prefect. The lovely, kind prefect who had shown him nothing but generosity that he returned with a scowl and bluntness. Riddle wasn't used to this feeling within his chest, this warmth that only ever arose when he could finally speak with his peers as though they were friends. This warmth, however, was new. It was practically scalding and made his mind absolutely blank.

It hurt him more than anything he could ever imagine.

He was blunt and he knew his charm had failed him whenever you two spoke. Riddle knew that his words often came off as condescending or as cruel. He had never intended it to! He wanted nothing more than to sit beside them and explain with teary eyes and a heavy heart that he just didn't know how to properly express himself.

He had somehow stumbled even closer to the prefect, hoping to, in some part, understand them better. He desperately wanted to find out everything he could about them, curiosity overtaking his senses as he soaked in every crumb of information he could get. He was greedy for the warmth that they offered to him, a warmth like no other than melted that shell around his heart and made him desperate for more, more, more.

Until he blew it.

One moment the two were baking, and the next they stood next to him, eyes wide and clutching their hand close to their chest. Riddle stood in equal shock, jaw dropped and lower lip quivering as his mind raced to understand what had happened. He was reading off the instructions, and they were laughing at something he'd done. They'd pointed out the batter on his face and reached to brush it off with their thumb. Riddle would have fantasized that his heart was soaring and his head would be full of cotton candy, just as it's described in all the novels he may or may not have been reading. His eyes would meet theirs, and they'd both blush and chuckle as he tried to swallow the butterflies that swarmed in his stomach and crept up his throat and he could finally, finally feel the warmth of your touch against his skin- the same warmth he'd craved since he was a child.

And then their hand met his cheek, and it all felt wrong.

Too terribly wrong, in a way that dissolved the butterflies into acid that sunk into his heart and took his breath away as tears sprung to his eyes and his skin was itchy and burnt and his lungs struggled to take in any sort of air which left him gasping as his face pales and his ears rang as blood pounds at the vessels within it and the lights above were too bright and he was too painfully aware of the feeling of everything clinging to his skin and-

It all felt like too much.

He had, in his panic, smacked their hand away. The kitchen was silent aside from Riddle's still racing breaths as his heart sunk and his stomach clenched in a way that would have made him double over if he had not been so mortified. His mouth opened for a moment as his shaky hands scrambled to find purchase on the counter.

"I-I'm-" He gasped, gulping and taking another few heaving breaths. "I'm so sorry-"

"Riddle, it's-" The prefect begins. He slams his eyes shut and raises his hands from the counter, running off with wobbly legs before they could finish their sentence. He raced until he made it to his room, collapsing against the door and panting until his lungs ached and burned. He grew desperate for air as he used the chill of the hardwood floor to ground himself, mind racing over what had just happened. A pit in his stomach formed and deepened the more he played it over and over, tears welling in his eyes as he hiccupped silently, holding his knees close to his chest and weeping into them.

Perhaps, he thinks bitterly, the words swimming in his mind, perhaps I'm not meant for love after all.

Riddle hardly thinks he deserves it after what he'd done, his actions reminiscent of his mother's whenever he would slack or slow down in his studies. He felt sick to his stomach as the world around him spun and he tried to desperately bite back the nausea that crept up his throat.

"Riddle?" A knock on the door sounds, making him jolt. The sound of the prefect and their concern makes his heart deflate just as quickly as it had swelled. He ponders telling them to leave, to never come back, but he can't trust his voice.

And he can't trust his heart to not betray him in that split second.

"I'm sorry," He mumbles into his knees, just loud enough for them to hear him through the door.

"Can I see you?" They ask quietly, and he can hear how their voice sinks closer to the ground. He could practically picture them lowering themselves to talk to him more clearly, putting themselves on equal ground with him. Why? He wonders. Why me?

"Not right now," He whispers, voice breaking as more warm tears stream down his porcelain face. They're silent for a moment on the other end, and he would have assumed that they'd left would it not be for the rustling of fabric as they make themselves comfortable on the other side of the door.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched you without your permission..." They're quiet, and their voice sounds remorseful, a realization that makes Riddle's tears stream faster down his face and drip onto the soft cotton of his uniform. He was a monster, a tyrant, so why? Why are they choosing to give him their kindness and share their light with him?

"No," He sighs. "I should be apologizing. I should never hit you. I-I never wanted to-" His voice betrays him once more as he hiccups, breaths catching on the words that tear through his throat. "I really wanted you do to that, really." The confession would normally make his heart race and his face flush a bright red, but his heart was too heavy to soar as it was supposed to. "I wanted it to be perfect."

"Perfect?"

"It hurt, being touched so gently," Finally, he was able to choke out the words that had been lodged in his throat since day one. Admitting it out loud made it seem more real, adding another stab of sorrow into his heart as he chokes back a sob. "I wanted to..." he can't seem to finish his sentence as he swallows thickly and takes a shaky breath.

"It's okay, Riddle," He can hear the love in their voice from the other side of the door, and the stream of tears lessens ever so slightly. "We can take our time with it."

"You don't deserve that," He decides firmly. "I-I truly like you, but...I can't love."

"Let yourself be loved," They practically demand, making the boy jump as his breath catches. "You think you're this terrible person when you're not that at all. You're hurt, and you're confused," He wants to wail, to scream at them and beg them to stop, but at the same time...

They understood. They were finally seeing him as he always wanted to be seen, they were telling him the truth of who he was- of who Riddle Rosehearts was and not just Riddle of the Rosehearts family.

"You're not going to hurt me," They're silent against the door, and the redhead finds himself leaning further back and hoping to feel the warmth of their body press seep through the mahogany door. He swallows once more, wiping at his tears as he stares up at the ceiling, focusing only on the prefect's steady breaths on the other side of the door. "I know you're scared but...I promise that you could never hurt me."

"I just did."

"I overstepped a boundary. I- you were scared, I saw it. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing!" He sniffles. "You never did anything wrong."

"Then make it up to me!" They argue, taking the boy back for a moment. "Make it up by finally letting yourself be happy, Riddle! It doesn't have to be with me! You don't have to confess your love, or do anything! Shit, even if you tell me to never come back to Heartslabyul I still- I'll care, and I would be absolutely heartbroken because I love you so, so much, but... I'll understand. I just need you to promise me that you'll be happy. I need you to promise that you would allow yourself to love, and to be loved."

"I want..." He stammers before taking a breath. "I want to love you. And... to be loved by you."

Riddle could hear their sharp intake of breath, and, in a moment of bravery, he spins his hand and slips it under the crack in the door., feeling the rough wood scrape against his hand until he was certain his fingers are visible on the other side.

"Y-you can..." He can't finish his sentence and he hears an affirmative hum sound from the other side of the door as warm fingertips rest over his own.

"Is this okay?" They ask. He nods slowly and hums, allowing his eyes to slip closed as he relishes in their touch. It's gentle, as though he were made of glass and any touch harder than what they were doing would break him. There was no malice, not cruelty.

He felt safe.

"It's..." Riddle smiles softly. "Warm... it's nice."

For the first time in his life, Riddle saw a future in which he could be held in the same tender way he'd dreamt all those years ago.

#riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland riddle #twst riddle rosehearts #riddle angst #riddle rosehearts angst #twst fanfic #twisted wonderlnd fanfic

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queerlordsimon · 1 year

Text

ghost of a rose

Cw: eating, reader heading home, riddle

An: thank you @cupids-chamber for helping me set up the beginning of the story.

The valley green, was so serene

A bright day in the rose maze, all was in order, nothing was out of place. It was all perfect, for riddles rose. His beloved, his partner. They were on their first date. Trey had made them sweets, and made sure none of the other students would ruin his moment. A beheading would not do, for his sweetheart.

In the middle ran a stream

Strawberry tarts, vanilla cakes, heart shaped cookies, all laid out in the sun on plates on their picnic blanket, and one after another, they went. A chocolate covered strawberry, riddle had decided to be bold, and held it out for his partner to take a bite, which they did, smiling and humming in their sweet voice as they swallowed it, getting chocolate on their lip. Which in turn, made riddle more bold, who pointed it out, then kissed them to get it off.

So blue~

Riddle blinked his roman silver eyes as he shook his head to awake him from his daydream, of his first date with y/n. What had drawn him to the daydream? He looked around, before spotting it.

A maiden fair

Ah, that would be it. His y/n was dancing around the rose maze, there their first date was, their e/c eyes closed as they sang softly. His eyes watched them closely

In despair

Before he realized the lyrics of the song, making his eyes widen, and he approached, his clothes rustling just enough in his hurry to see them, that they opened their eyes and stopped dancing, a small smile on their face

Once had met her true love there

“Good evening, my love.” y/n giggled softly.

“Good evening, my strawberry. Im sorry if i disturbed your walk.” he smiled softly in return at them.

“You could never disturb me, beloved”

And she told him

“This was the spot of our first date, was it not?” y/n hummed softly, offering their hand for riddle, who took it instantly, and nodded.

“Indeed it was” he hummed back, starting to walk with y/n, before bringing up the topic to which had made him rush over in the first place. “What was it you were singing, beloved? It sounded so melancholy, and beautiful.”

She would say

“Its a song from my world called ghost of a rose.” they said softly, and riddle nodded.

“Thats what i thought it sounded like the words were saying. May i ask why you felt inclined to sing such a song? Those words are so saddening.”

“Promise me, when you see”

“I apologize my strawberry, i didnt mean to make you sad.” riddle stopped, giving them a look.

“From what caters told me, your deflecting.”

“Ah, so it seems your catching on, im glad your becoming better at emotions. “

“Still avoiding the answer, my love. “

“Crowley has found a way for me to go home, riddle.”

“A white rose youll think of me”

“The headmage found your way home?” the redhead was stunned, before turning his head to look at the prefect, who was chewing their lip, eyes watering slightly as they nodded.

“Strawberry, could you do me a favor?”

“I love you so”

“Anything for you, darling. What is it you wish?”

“Promise me, that when you see a white rose youll think of me.”

“Never let go~”

“y/n, of course i will promise you that. “ riddle said sadly, looking at them softly

“Thank you strawberry, i love you so much."

“I love you too, darling. I will always hold you in my heart”

“I will be”

y/n nodded, before moving and kissing him. Riddle kissed back, as they exchanged a sorrow filled kiss, at the thought of being separated so soon.

“Your ghost of a rose~”

#twst #twisted wonderland #fyp #foryou #riddle #riddle rosehearts #rosehearts #x reader #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts angst #angst #riddle angst #twst angst #twisted wonderland x reader

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adarkenedforest · 2 years

Text

Little rose coloured trainwreck

CW/TW: Riddle angst, Riddle x Trey, mentions of abusive parent, homophobia, internalised homophobia mentions of Riddle's past behaviour and overblot.

--------

It was a surprisingly quiet day in the dorm, Riddle was able to just do his paperwork and drink his tea in peace. It was.. nice. However he had to admit he felt.. lonely. Ace and deuce were at Yuu's dorm as usual, Cater was off trying to find a nice spot for a picture and Trey was.. out. He hadn't given any specifications but Riddle was trying to let go more on his friend. His therapist had recommended that a small way to help Trey and thus keep his best friend close was to.. let go a little.

Riddle turned his head, looking at the papers before he turned his head away. He didn't really feel like it anymore. Why did he care so much about what Trey was doing anyway? *Maybe it's because you're a tyrant and you like knowing where your precious servant is so you can pull him back~* Riddle froze, eyes darkening at his thoughts and his hand shaking. He.. he wasn't like that anymore. He'd never be like that again.

Yet still... why? Why did he hold so tight. Trey didn't stop him, yet still... Riddle was very well aware of the sadness and hurt that darkened his honey coloured eyes when he looked at him. He couldn't bear it. Why... why couldn't he bare it!? Riddle's eyes squeezed shut and the red anger and vile thoughts filled his head, hands shaking until with a yell he hurled the teacup at the wall. It shattered and Riddle sank to his knees, tears pooling from his storm gray eyes. He hated himself so badly.

What was it about trey...? Was it his smile? His kindness?.. Why did Riddle want to keep him so close. So tight. Then... like a train.. it hit him. He.. he liked trey. Immidietly it felt like ice-cold water had been dumped all over him. Riddle liked him.. he had a crush on Trey.

But.. but that couldn't be possible right?! He was straight! ...well he.. he never had any crushes but.. but that's just because he had been focusing on his studies! Yet still, it didn't take long for he gave up. He was in love with Trey... and his mother was going to kill him because of it..

----

A/n: don't worry dear traveller there's going to be a much much nicer part two eventually. Hope you enjoyed~

-adarkenedforest

#twisted wonderland #lgbtq #riddle rosehearts #Trey Clover #Trey x Riddle #Riddle x Trey #twisted wonderland angst #Riddle angst #Heartslabyle #twst #Riddle Rosehearts x Trey clover #Angst #Suffering #petition to kill Riddle's mother

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spadecentral · 2 years

Text

💌 The One Who Loved | Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

>> requested: yes, by @indulgentandidiotic >> a/n: OFC MOO!!! This is bad though so uh…. :|

>> masterlist: here!! >> summary: you hides you true feelings for riddle until the day you leave >> reader prns: they/them >> warning(s): second person, you replace Yuu

You couldn't help but stare at Riddle as he talked to you. There was something about the way that he held himself, you figured. The way that he was so sure about himself, that he held himself to such high standards... that he was able to keep himself up to par with such high standards.

You on the other hand... were not so capable. Always too timid, too bashful, too far behind.

“…expect to see you on Thursday.” Riddle finished, and you realized you had no idea what he was saying.

“I’m… I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” You awkwardly smiled as you asked Riddle to repeat his sentence.

The redhead sighed before repeating his sentence, "We're having an unbirthday party tomorrow. I expect to see you there."

“O-oh yes! Yes, of course,” you said.

"Good," he smiled. "This is your class, right? I will leave you here."

"Thank you, Riddle." You smiled softly before entering the classroom.

The redhead always had a different aura around you than other people. He was always kind and caring, and rarely raised his voice. He was a true comfort.

You were going to miss that.

"Oof!" You bump into someone while walking around the campus during the evening. "I'm so so sor-"

"Prefect, what are you doing here?" Riddle asked as he brushed off his clothes, embarrassed.

"Oh I was just-" you stop as you look back at Riddle. His face was dusted with a light pink, and he had a slight pout on his face. Cute... you thought, before immediately stopping and shaking your head. "I was just out for a stroll."

"Hm..." Riddle hummed. "Would you like me to accompany you?"

"I... I'm alright, thank you." You responded. "Not that there's anything wrong with your company I just-"

"It's alright, Prefect. I understand," Riddle said. "Besides, you'll be at the Unbirthday Party tomorrow. I'll see you then."

"Oh, yeah... Of course, Riddle." You sheepishly smiled. "Have a nice night."

"You as well," He nodded at you, before turning and briskly walking away.

Thursday came, and you weren't in front of Heartslabyul waiting for Riddle to walk you to class.

The housewarden found that to be strange, and hoped you weren't out long enough last night for you to catch a cold.

As the day progressed, Riddle got more and more worried about you. He hadn’t seen you at all, and for you, that was unheard of.

As soon as classes ended for the day, Riddle's heels clacked loudly as he rushed towards Ramshackle dorm. Knocking on the door, he got no response. So, as rude as it was, he opened the door to the rundown dorm.

"Prefect?" He called out into the dorm.

He got nothing in response.

As he walked farther into the dorm, Riddle realized that he had never actually been inside of the Ramshackle dorm.

The floorboards creaked under Riddle's feet as he progressed farther into the dorm. Moving into what seemed like a common-room area, Riddle spotted a pile of paper seemingly out of place on the barren coffee table. Moving toward the center of the room, the redhead stopped in front of the table to read them.

To: Deuce and Ace That wasn't him, so Riddle put it in the back of the pile.

To: Grim The cat? Why does a cat have a letter?

To: Riddle Ah, yes. That was him.

Dear Riddle, I wish I could see you again. I really, really do. I love I really enjoy spending my time with you. You are, in actuality, one of the nicest people I have met at my time in NRC. I am truly grateful to have been friends with you. As for my whereabouts... I have gone back to my world. Miraculously, Crowley had found me a way home. Thank you, Riddle Rosehearts, for being in my life. You have affected me in more ways than one, and I will miss everything we have done together. Please don't go back to your old ways again, I won't be here to save you this time. You will forever be Number One in my heart, Riddle. - The One Who Loved You

#twst #riddle twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #twst angst #twst x reader #riddle angst #riddle rosehearts angst #@.twst.works

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luxaryllis · 2 years

Note

K-kill Riddle, that’s it, that’s the request

Oh gosh-

Okay then-

Actual short fic below the cut.

---

"Riddle! Stay alive, please... I... I can't lose you..."

"Hey, Riddle! Ya better stay alive, alright? Cater's out looking for the school nurse."

"Dormleader!! Please stay alive!! Uhh... what else do I say-"

"That was alright, Deuce, don't worry."

"Crap!! Riddle's losing a bunch of blood! Deuce, put more pressure dammit!"

"I'M TRYING, ACE!!"

"You two... be quiet please..."

"...R-right, Dorm Leader..."

"Trey... I'm very sorry... to everyone also... I must have painted myself as such a tyrant.. and I probably wasn't able to change myself fully..."

"Shh.. shhh... Riddle. Don't think like that, you did your best as dorm leader of Heartslabyul."

"I see... that's... good to... hear..."

"Hey, guys! *pant* I was able to get the nurse to come over! Come on, you all!"

"..."

"... Cater... it... it's too late..."

"H-huh...?"

---

THERE YA GO!

This is a tad longer than the others-

But here it is-

#twst #twst angst #riddle rosehearts #riddle angst

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warnersister · 9 months

Text

Oh, how you’d changed him

Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary: how you’d changed Tom and his life for the better, and how ridiculous his previous plans seemed after that.

Tom had carefully planned out his world domination, created his alias Lord Voldemort and the horrors that would go with him. He decided that he would single-handedly take over the wizarding world by any means necessary and reek havoc amongst the weaklings that surrounded him. This; a plan he had created since he was merely a boy, determined to return what this cruel world had forced upon him - sorrow and pain.

Until he met you. To Tom, you were like a breath of fresh air, an unbeatable presence with bright and hopeful features that offered a sense of peace in his life. You had been acquaintances since first year, however had become more familiar in sixth-year potions, just as he was plotting his first horcruxes along with the basallisk attack, you had been assigned as station-partners in the early September of that year.

When your names had been read Tom quirked a brow, however was not disappointed with the testily - having duly noted your previous achievements in the subject and feeling as though you could come in handy later down the line when his domination was more of a priority than his studies, but his world came crashing down when you turned in your seat to examine him.

Tom was lead to believe that he was incapable of love. A monotone psychopathic freak lacking human emotions, yet obtaining alien abilities. It when your eyes looked him over and your hair swayed behind your shoulders, he was unable to ignore the way his heartbeat quickened and breath faltered, in Tom’s eyes you were unfathomably gorgeous and he was unable to look away, a Medusa incapable of stoning her victims.

You held your hand out calmly and he admired the way your posture was straight and head held in a confident stature. “Y/n,” you said, lips soft and plump and voice soothing and gentle. “Tom,” he replied, voice failing him as he fumbled over his words with a stutter - something having never happened to him previously. You giggled at his mistake and he found himself enjoying the sound, instinctively making it his mission to hear it once more, unable to stop the smile appearing on his lips.

Tom also appreciated your knack for perfection. Your potions never failed to exceed beyond perfection and your applause was always deserved, taken with a humble nod to your peers before you set out defying the next odds in your path.

Naturally, Tom began to gravitate towards you outside of lectures, also. He’d find himself on the path to walk you to class or accompany you to the dinner table, or beside you in the library studying beyond the librarian’s patience and working hours. Tom found comfort in your presence and allowed himself to indulge regardless of what ‘Lord Voldemort’ told him to do.

Eventually, he’d offered his arm to stroll down with you to Hogsmeade on a chilly autum day, a few weeks before Christmas celebrations would commence and the winter solstice would turn the Scottish highlands surrounding you into an awe-worthy winter wonderland. “May I accompany you to Hogsmeade?” Tom asked with a small smile, holding his arm out to you while you friends giggled and pushed you towards him. You’d laughed with him as you threaded your forearm alongside his, joining you both at the hip while you replied: “yes, you may Tommy.”

Strangely, he never felt any kind of resentment to any nickname you’d give him other than his name. He welcomed your names with open arms and answered to nearly any plausible noun that passed his lips. He even bought you butterbeer to warm your frostbitten lips, sipping simultaneously while the barmaid offered a few obvious knowing glances.

You shivered as you walked on, the many layers you had adorned on top of your skin no match for the ever-growing cold attacking Hogwarts and found yourself struggling with chattering teeth. Tom immediately removed his long coat and wrapped it around you, admiring both the chivalry of his actions and the satisfied smile on your face when your body temperature started to rise. “No, no, Tom. You’ll get cold.” You said, a reluctant whine passing your lips to which he shrugged. With anyone else, he would’ve let you freeze to death, but not you. He would die for you, freeze to death if you will. “I’m fine, I’m more concerned about getting you back to the castle without hypothermia.” He says with a small chuckle, pulling you into his side by the waist. “I guess you aren’t so cold-hearted as you make yourself out to be, Tom Riddle.” He looks down at you and considers your words for a few seconds.

“You confuse me, y/n. I’ve never felt so warm and gleeful around a person yet you never fail to bring a smile to my face. Teach me how to do that.” I instructs but you shake your head no gently. “I cannot do that simply due to the face that you do it to me, also.” You reply, each exchanging knowing glances between each others eyes and lips. He leans down and traps your lips with his own, warming your body through a simple yet sophisticated gesture and from that day forward you were referred to as his girlfriend.

Of course, however he had also come clean about his upbringing and eventually the chamber and the basilisk. He had told you he was conceived under the influence of a love spell and believed that he was incapable of loving until he had met you. You laid on his bed as you talked; his head on your chest while you weaved your fingers thought his chestnut locks and listened to him. “I read a while back now about a recently investigated muggle issue called autism and it has occurred to me that you’re not incapable of love, you have asbergers Tom. I’ll read the passage to you later.” And all of a sudden all of his unjustified emotions and troubles made sense and he could finally find an unknowingly lost sense of peace within himself knowing what truly made him into the Tom Riddle he was.

When he took you into the chamber he’d told you all about his plan for domination and his large magical snake and how he had a few followers and you never judged him once. If anything you thought it was impressive that he yearned for revenge instead of acceptance but reasoned that perhaps an oversized snake and a killing spree were not the solutions he was searching for. The basilisk lived shrunken to normal size in a glass cage beside his bed after that.

And as the time went by and your relationship flourished, Voldemort seemed more like a past phase than a goal and was more focused on the life he going to create with you. He called his ‘followers’ pathetic and told them to get a life when they questioned his authority over their devotion.

Eventually, it came time for you to graduate and Tom’s hand was tightly clasped in your own as you looked at the castle for a final time. You were silent, acknowledging the end of this era and slowly coming to terms with it. After a while, Tom scoffed. “World domination.” He said with a smile shaking his head. “Who’s ever heard of such a thing?” He turned and picked up your bags along with his own. “Ready to go, darling?”

The two of you had shared your own compartment on the train ride home, others finding their own cubbies as Tom scared them off from sitting with you. Your head was rested on his shoulder as he read a muggle book to you that you had bought the previous summer ‘the great gatsby’. It was a deep and considerate book and made you think about your future, also.

“What’re we going to do now?” You ask out of the blue, interrupting his sentence as he simply closes his book and looks down at you, your face deep in thought. “Well,” he hummed, thinking for a moment. “We’ve booked that cottage in the Peak District for a few weeks, how about we think it all out then?” And you nod. “Sounds like a plan then.”

The next few weeks were spent waking together in the high peaks of the muggle countryside, simply talking and appreciating one another’s company and plotting your lives.

“Is it bad that I want to stay here forever?” You ask him, looking out at the sunsetting one warm winter evening. Tom thinks thoughtfully before saying “if it is then it’s bad that I want to stay here too.” As a pureblood witch you were born under the believe that muggle life was pointless and undeserving, and as had Tom - but together you realised you preferred the quiet and solitary, and not needing to use magic to do everything all of the time. It was a change. And it was nice.

One morning mid-august Tom was reading the newspaper and you were making you both toast. “Someone’s selling the property up the street.” He says and you sip on your drink and look out of the window. “What? The old farmhouse.” “No, the one with the long drive and vines up the side.” You sigh dreamily. “Oh, if only.” You say with a chuckle. “Darling we can afford it.” Tom says and you stay in silence for a moment, sharing the thoughts weaving through your minds. “It wouldn’t take up a large chunk of our savings.” He drops his reading glasses to the end of his nose and smirks. “We’re rich in muggle terms.” You laugh and shake your head at him. “You’re so humble, Riddle.” He stands up and slides his hands around your waist to hold you close as you share the view of the house in question. “We’re buying it.” He spoke after a while, finalising his decision. “What happened to the ‘I hate muggles and never want to be amongst them’?” You ask, turning to him with a cocked brow. He just shrugs. “They were Voldemort’s views. Not mine.”

Matter several months going back and forth with the previous owners and settling on an asking price, you were standing in front of the house- your house, beside tom, exactly how you had when you were leaving Hogwarts. “This is our house.” You say, not taking your eyes off of the scenic view before you. Tom takes you into his side and rubs your arm comfortingly before kissing your temple. “Our home.”

Tom became an Auror, acting as an undercover wizard in the muggle setting catching and reporting any source of dark or unrightfully used magic. You took up being a healer, training in the wizarding world but practising in your home village, being known as a respectable young doctor who all the elderly or adjacent citizens resided in to get treatment - and anything you gave them always worked.

It was a spring morning when you were down at the bakery picking up a loaf of bread for your dinners. “How’s that fella of yours?” The lady asked with a smirk. “Oh Tom’s fine, just left for work.” “Popped the question yet?” The old woman asks, elbowing you slightly. “We’re only twenty Agatha!” You say with a laugh. “Well, Arthur and I were married when we were nineteen.” She crossed her arms. “I thought you were telling me how much you hated him?” You laugh. “Oh he gets on my wire, but we were still married!”

That left you with the thought in your mind for the remainder of the day - you’d decided that Tom Riddle was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and then some.

In February you both took a trip down to the Lake District and rented a boat house with a large lake, your jobs and ‘trust funds’ inherited from family members allowed you to do this rather frequently and easily, nothing out of the ordinary to take a trip for a long weekend.

It was at sunset, rather early due to daylight saving hours when you rowed out onto the lake to just sit in tranquility for a little while, appreciating the quiet time together. You’d rose to your feet, sure that you had seen an owl fly by and when you turned around, Tom was on one knee, box in hand. In the box, the ring of Salazar Slytherin himself with a bunch of roses in the other.

“Agatha told me today is Cupid’s holiday.” He say, voice just beyond a whisper as a smile grew on your face and tears formed. “You know, until I was sixteen I was asphyxiated with the idea of taking over the world, finding a victim to take the pain that I felt. But those silly little thoughts were gone when I met you, the only person I live and breathe for. I never thought I could, however I love you, yn ln. And it would do me great honour if you would be my wife.”

You’d kissed and hugged him and wept into his shoulder as you happily embraced - ready to start the rest of your lives together. There were no other young women in the village and your parents had practically alienated you when you went to live with muggles so the ladies who attended your doctors practise took you shopping for your wedding dress - Tom insisted on paying.

Dolly was brutally honest and Susan started crying, Agatha kissed you and called you her daughter and it was certainly a day to remember - a gorgeous fitting dress, white and highlighting your features gracefully.

You’d gotten married in the village church, an audience of your neighbours and close friends and a few companions from school, Agatha was your maid of honour and Greta your flower girl, gleaming smile on her face while her husband rolled her down the isle in her wheelchair while she sassily threw rose petals. And Dumbledore was sat in the front row, a smart suit on while he smiled at the man the little evil boy turned out to be, and the gorgeous woman you had flourished into.

It was a beautiful ceremony and a beautiful day. And you were now the beautiful yn Riddle.

In September, Abraxas Malfoy and his wife wanted to celebrate their wedding anniversary and asked if they would drop their son, Lucius off for the week so they could go away. You and Tom decided to take the week off work and look after him, after all, the young lad needed to be accustomed to his god parents!

One evening Lucius had pleaded with you to go sit in the garden and paint together and of course you complied, taking the supplied and the young boy on your hip, and headed for the grass to make a mess. And make a mess you did, there was red in your hair and blue on his white libel shirt, and hardly anything on the page. Tom watched from the window sipping on a cup of tea, watching as you interacted with the young boy so naturally, tickling his stomach and laughing as you played hidey-boo. It created an odd twang in his stomach, the same he had felt when he had first laid eyes on you.

One day when the boy had been reunited with his parents, Tom had been sent on a mission to retrieve an escaped boggart. During his time at Hogwarts, his biggest was recognisably his own dead corpse, but when he approached the creature, it’s form was your grave with him sat looking deathly ill beside it weeping. Your headstone read ‘a loving wife and doctor, no children’ his stomach dropped when he realised what he needed. What he needed right now.

He got home that night and held you close and cried, feeling you warm and full of life. You caressed his shaking body as you soothes him, and when he had calmed he had taken your face into his hands and cradled it, telling you suddenly “yn I want a baby.”

Throughout your pregnancy, Tom was tender and reluctant to let you move without him being beside you. He became more protective than he already was an even took an extended paternity leave just before your due date.

Prior to that however, he worshiped you like a goddess. He would make you decaf tea - something you grumbled about but he refused to listen. He stopped smoking his pipe inside the house, instead taking it to the end of the garden while he and Mr Garson next door chatted about his wife and you. He made you lay on the settee and sat on the floor beside your growing stomach while he read old wives tales from a book inherited from his mother. He even sang to it once or twice. After the sixth month mark when your belly was becoming noticeably plump to the point you could rest your tea cup upon it without it falling off, he began carrying you everywhere. Regardless of how far the distance, and the fact you were carrying another human, he acted as though you were a feather that needed assistance and carried you the way he did on your wedding night.

When you took your own maternity leave, he was even more pleased - before he’d sit beside you in your doctors office and never took his eyes off of you, now he needn’t a reason to why. In his eyes, his love was pregnant and needed tending too. He’d shower with you and lift your stomach until he saw the face of satisfaction he knew well and loved. And he’d be lying if he said the breasts you were growing didn’t make his mouth water, as well as the fact there was a possibility that he could impregnate a pregnant woman - a thought that drove him wild but alas after many attempts, it was eventually an unsuccessful mission.

And in the next July, Tom was sweating as he held your hand and felt a great pain as you cried in agony beside him. You were in a muggle hospital, Agatha had awoken in the middle of the night and heard your pained cries and ordered her husband, Mr Garson to drive you to the hospital which he did, adjusting his thick-lenses on his glasses and having to be awoken a few times at the wheel from Tom’s furious barks, but you made it on one piece, and at quarter to ten, you produced him a son, deciding on naming him Mattheo Riddle.

After giving him a bath, the midwife’s tried to take him away ‘give you a break’, but you refused. Groggily saying “I’ve only had him ten minutes why would I need a break.” And Tom soon shooed them off, getting into the bed beside you and holding your son skin-to-skin as he slept on his fathers chest, and you on his shoulder. When you drifted off he kissed the top of your head gently and whispered sweetly “well done, mummy.”

Tom was determined to be the father he didn’t have. And a good one at that.

Mr and Mrs Garson cried when you asked them to be the godparents, you would’ve appointed the role to everyone in this village if you could - your own little family larger than it seemed.

The newborn stage went by awefully fast and you and Tom self with every hurdle and hiccup together, all the nappies and sick, and the 3AM walks when baby Matty would not settle. It was gone and soon you had a walking talking toddler of whom you were both awfully proud of.

The chilly autumnal eves suddenly turned into even colder winter morns, Christmas was making its rounds in the muggle world and you and Tom had became accustomed to it. You decorated the tree, hung candles, sung carols, gave presents and ate specialty meals on the 25th. Tom sat in his armchair, Mattheo on lap, reading glasses down to the end of his nose as he read A Christmas Carol to him.

You were making dinner, Mince Pie was on the menu that night in particular, and you smiled as you notice the snow falling. You wiped your hands and leant against the doorframe watching your two boys in awe, just memorising the picture for a moment. “Are you alright, my love?” Tom asked, smiling up at you. “Just admiring the picture.” You say, mirroring his grin. Then you turn to your son. “I’m awfully sorry to interrupt, master Riddle. However, so I do believe it is snowing.” He gasped dramatically when he heard the news. “Snow! But we’re reading! But snow!” You both laugh at his dilemma then suggest “how about we eat dinner, then we’ll read out in the snow and make a snowman.” The young boy squeals in delight and runs to the dining room to eat, sitting ever so patiently yet with an impatient smile on those cheeky lips.

That evening you built a snowman, read the last part of the book, and put your son peacefully to sleep in his bed after singing ‘Silent Night’ to him. You and Tom basked in the sight for a moment, just taking in the calmness of the setting.

And as Tom looked down at you, he thought of how you’d changed him.

*scoff* Lord Voldemort, who’d ever heard of anything so ridiculous?

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