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thespiderinyourroom · 24 days

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Word Count: 1,309

Reader Type: Gender Neutral

Story Type: Twisted Wonderland

Beware: Angst, Mentions of Death

Summary: Everyone misses you. but Grim misses you the most.

Key terms: n/a

Rook’s Notes: I've felt pretty down lately, and this happened.

Grim looked around the spacious bedroom. He jumped onto the queen size bed and claimed his usual spot on the right side. Softly he pawed the empty pillow by him. A downhearted purr echoed through the room as his small paw patted the dusty cushion. The burning sensation itching his cyan eyes only worsen.

"I am just a kitten. Hardly fit my mittens." Grim hoarsely purred while curling up on the pillow. Laying his head on the cushion rather than his paw, "Much too small, I figure. One day I'll be bigger…"

The nonsense residents of Heartslabyul didn't have their unbirthdays as cheerful. Their desserts weren't as sweet anymore as Trey had slowly lost his sense to bake. He would often make a few treats to distract himself, but those baked goods didn't hold the same flavor as they once did. Cater continued his social appearance, but the ginger would find himself in the rose garden when left alone. He would pick roses and paint them (color), not paying mind if he got in trouble as (color) seemed so beautiful than the dreadful red or empty white. Riddle would be held up in his room most of the time. Reading to himself before speaking out loud, he stopped himself multiple times when not receiving an answer from his commentary. "One day I'll be a great big kitty cat. Uses open windows to go from flat to flat."

Savanaclaw reverted to their old ways. No more socializing with weaklings or non-beastmen. Leona rather spent time in his dorm than in the garden, claiming the grass was too itchy. The plants were damaging his senses as his eyes would water. Jack's workout routine kept him active as he continued to train. However, he would stop every once in a while to catch his breath before snapping out of his daze with a light scowl. The mischievous Ruggie didn't pull pranks as the childish acts didn't cheer his sour mood without someone to help. Even the taste of donuts was bitter when he ate alone in the cafeteria.

Azul looked at the quiet lounge and signed at the empty seat by him. The paperwork is seemingly endless without an extra hand, especially when the help would distract him when he got frustrated. Tucked away in the forest, Jade quietly hiked through nature as his eyes scanned the ground. he tilted his head slightly to look behind him but shifted his eyes back to the ground in search of mushroom, not enjoying the lone hike as he used to. Floyd stared at the ceiling of his room while the a deep frown on his face. Bringing the shrimp plush towards him, the usually mischievous boy feels more tired than normal.

As lively as the halls of Scarabia, Kalim felt void of light. He could seem to hold his smile for longer than a minute, his dormmates noticing the lack of energy when he walked the halls. Jamil lost his sense of excessing and revolted back to his tucked-away nature of being average. His dancing becomes more intense as he ignores their memories and cheers.

"I am just a kitten. Hardly fit my mittens. Much too small, I figure. One day I'll be bigger. One day I'll be all grown up and strong."

The three beauties of Pomefiore grew bored without their admiring fan. Vil didn't have the usual urge to shop and dare he say- he lost the appeal to maintain his beauty routine when he passed a mirror. Rook grew bored as the students all looked dull to him, none appealing to his standards anymore. Epel slowly lost his nerve to bother working out and bite his tongue on makeup, covering up the bags under his eyes from sleepless nights.

Keyboard keys echoed the poorly lit room while the screen flashed with bright colors. Idia emptily stared at the computer while he built his character, focusing his entire mind on making the little icon identical. Ortho sat in the corner of the room as he built a hologram. Using every part of his memory software to mimic their voice so the brothers could have comfort during their hard days.

Diasomia shut itself away once more after the dreadful day. Lilia turned from being teasing and playful to forever strict. He stop being friendly when his closest friend left him alone. The usual loud mouth Sebek turned rather quiet as days went by, being rather more reserved. The quiet Silver revolted back to his old self of being distant and focused on his Knight training, however, the dull ache in his chest would hurt when he looked towards the clock. Reminding himself that he would need to take a break after hearing the small voice that haunts him. Malleus sighed during his nightly walk. He lost interest in interacting with the student body, the need to silence the thoughts growing with each passing day after losing his companion.

"But until then, I'll just purr and sing along."

Deuce and Ace both looked at one another as they heard the feline's broken purrs. The redhead pressed his back against the doorframe while humming to the purrs. He closed his eyes while faintly hearing the words to the small lullaby in his head. The ravenette listened to his friend hum as he sat down on the floor. Every night. They would hear you sing that lullaby without fail, as silly as it was that was the only way for Grim to fall asleep. The pair knew this and it hurt. Your absence had created a great void in their hearts. In everyone's hearts.

Ramshackle hasn't felt like home. Its clean halls had collect dust over time as the common room had a cloth over the furniture for no one dared clean. The once rowdy dorm had turned muted that even the ghosts found it too eerie. All the other dorms felt the effect of the absence as time went by.

Your absence bought great grief to everyone, but Grim had to worse impact. He had all his memories with you from the best funniest ones to the scary frightening ones. The warmth that once radiated from your desk chair grew cold after a week and caused him to move to the bed. He would avoid your side as much as possible, remember how you would hold him close at night. However, he misses your arms around him. He misses listening to your heartbeat after a hard day of class.

He remembers seeing you study on your desk every day while he slacked off. The first time you sang that stupid lullaby. You were humming while writing down notes, while he ate away at his tuna. The feline ears twitched when he heard your light meowing. Tilting his head he popped up beside you, catching your attention.

"Huh? What's wrong?"

He said nothing but stare at you. A blud went off in your eyes before you picked him up and set him down on your lap, running a hand through his fur as you went back to humming. The silly song was his comfort every day and night because you would always smile while humming it.

It was your humming that bought him back when he overblobbed. It was the lullaby that woke him up when you called out to him. It was your smile that forever haunts him when remembers his jaw opening.

Grim let out a weak cry as he buried himself into your old pillow. Wishing wholeheartedly that you come back to him. Promising to the night sky that he would be better if it meant seeing you next to him. He would swear on his favorite cans of tuna that he was the good feline you proudly proclaimed.

"My little kitten.." He just wants to hear you call him one more time..

#reblogging this again bc evrytime I read this it turns me into a sobbing mess #I 💓 grim #he is literally my child like #anyway gonna read agaim and cry again #twst

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thespiderinyourroom · 24 days

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Wip, since my favorite boy's birthday is coming up :3

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thespiderinyourroom · 1 month

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I drew the menaces to society

#I love them sm #AND I LOVE THE MANGA PANELS WHERE THEY GO LIKE THIS AND I HAD TO DRAW IT #they are so dumb (affectionate)#twst #twst floyd #twst jade #twst fanart

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thespiderinyourroom · 2 months

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Fish in a Birdcage

#STOP #I LOVE THIS SONG SM #This one hits #FUCK #😭😭😭😭#EHY #WHY WOULD YORY #I HAVE ALWAYS IMAGINED THEM TO THIS SONG BUT SEEING IT MAKES IT WORSE #rolling on the floor #twst #twst idia #twst ortho

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thespiderinyourroom · 2 months

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Happy Valentines Day! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

AUGHHH I FINALLY FINISHED MY COMIC 😭😭😭😭😭 ibis paint says I spent 29 hours on it what??? Sob sob, this had a rather short deadline/work period, so I’m not completely happy with some panels, but I hope the story itself makes sense! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Edit: FJFJSJDJF TYSM TO EVERYONES KIND WORDS AHHHH!! 😭🫶🫶🫶💖💖💖💖 NVM IM COMPLETELY HAPPY WITH HIW THIS COMIC TURNED OUT

A huge thank you to @masquerade-of-misery for the inspiration for this story! I know it deviated quite a bit from your original idea, but it made me wonder what Crowley would see in his dream in Book 7, in regards to the Crowley-Levan theory. Thank you so much! 💖💖💖💖🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

I hope everyone has a good Valentine’s Day as possible, and I’m wishing you all the best of luck and sending all my love 🫶🫶🫶💖💖💖 thanks for reading my comic!

#oh #this got me feeling like when I stub my toe #crying sobbing wailing #twst #twisted wonderland #twst crowley #twst meleanor #twst malleus #twst fanart

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thespiderinyourroom · 3 months

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more silver sebek angst

#CRYING SCREAMINH THROWING UP #HOW DATE YOU #NOT THE SEBEK AND SILVER ANGST #😭😭😭#twst #twst silver #twst sebek #twst fanart

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thespiderinyourroom · 3 months

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#HOLAY SHIT #OMGS #THIS IS SOC GODO #I LOVE THIS SO KUCH OMGOMGOMGOHMHOMGOGNGOENOWNSKWLNDKS #twst #twst lilia #twst fanart

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thespiderinyourroom · 3 months

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scribbles

"( – ⌓ – ) ⎯⎯ he lets you draw on his skin, yeah thats pretty much it.

ft. malleus, vil

malleus

it was... a breach of your patience.

the lesson, was awfully boring. the more you listened to the apparent 'heroic' doings of certain individuals. the more it strips away your attentiveness to the words spilling out of professor trein's mouth. no matter how many times you will your ears to make out the incoherent lecturing of the man... it remains deaf.

so you decide to sate said boredom.

how? of course you need to bother your seatmate!

your intentions remained within the circle of yourself of course. your eyes stuck to the stray marker over your paper so you silently twisted the cap off and scribbled on your paper—then it was your palm—and now, malleus' arm.

"child of...?" man. malleus finishes in his mind, his attention suddenly snapped away at the sudden tug of his arm. definitely not his own decision to even make it move in the first place. usually it would remain stiffly beside his body like usual and even if someone tried to pry it to them it would remain still. but without his attention, his body lets you.

without another word. you peel open his fingers, palm open to you and it's a notion he allows. and he stays silent when you tug his gloves off. perhaps with a curious huff, malleus drifts closer to you. to accommodate your actions that he's yet to get an explanation for.

... and suddenly there's very bright flowers drawn on his palm.

said owner of the palm might just be toe darkest person in the room so it's quite out of place.

but it's from you so he likes it.

he peeks at it, with a fond smile on his face. I should enchant it to remain there forever. he thinks to himself, the curve of his lips growing wider at his thoughts, like he'd proud of the idea. the idea of being able to carry around something made exclusively by you might as well shove him into a cannonball and send him to cloud nine.

it's adorable. you're adorable.

his world grows a little more blue the more he stares at you. and if it weren't for the searing glances the professor sends your way malleus would just let his eyes engrave you into his memory forever, so he laments over it and reluctantly peels his gaze off you. mind speaking a thousand memories, the very same reason he somehow can't hear anything trein says.

you draw a strange looking lizard beneath his ring finger, one that looks a little like him and he thinks that you're asking him for marriage.

that can be arranged... he ponders, oblivious.

vil

drawings, doodles, painting— art. a reflection of the soul.

vil is great at makeup.

every brush on your face, a step to beauty. that is his reflection. you are his soul. he wants to make you look—no, make you feel like you're beautiful cause the canvas he's standing in front of is his greatest piece of art, he'd want to put you on the tallest pedestal there is. the grandest one just so the rest knows your beauty is parallel to none, something they can see and admire but not reach.

but he also wants to keep you in his own room, because only he knows what he felt when he painted you. only he should be the one given the grace.

this... he doesn't know what to consider.

perhaps vil should be bothered, if not then a little peeved at the several colors across his skin. a myriad of doodles, some words, and some simple drawings. a poor portrait of him is drawn next to one he assumes yours, the 'fairest' word on the right side of his hand, and flowers.

he's sure though. you're definitely no artist.

the thought cracks a smile at him, and you steal a glance midst the cool tip of the pen dancing along his skin. "I'd thought you wouldn't even let me do this," you admit, chair having been moved over closer to him so you wouldn't have any leaning problems. a suggestion by vil you gratefully took up, though you doubt it was just another excuse to have you closer.

"why?"

"dunno," you shrug. "it looks unseemly compared to you."

he huffs, flashing you a light smirk. "so my face is, hmmm..." vil ponders for a moment, and your face twists to the realization that you possibly just exposed what you think. but you suppose it isn't really a problem since it was basically common sense that vil is...

"gorgeous." you finish for him.

his aura brightens. (probably will be for the rest of the week.)

your hand retracts from him, the marker gripped between your fingers. and he takes a look at your 'art.' he doesn't know if he should consider it as one since there are a heap of sloppy lines, and the color bleeds into his skin. some smudges that you accidentally brushed against that makes it seem like a messy picture of chaos.

vil strives for perfection, but it's only natural there are flaws. to love oneself, you must love all parts. and to love you, he loves whatever the ink on his skin is.

well, what the heck.

"pass it to me," he stretches his hand, and you quirk a brow. questioning but curious so he indulges you. "I'll show you how it's done."

note. ngl idk what I wrote for vil it's currently 12 AM rn ☠ <- newer note, this has been rotting in my drafts for weeks and I couldn't decide whether to post it cause I wasn't sure about vil's but here hehehe

#THIS İS SO CUETGAHAHASGJASHJAHSJANDKSKŠHHFHKSWJSCHDVVBX KSJJWXC #giggling rn #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

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thespiderinyourroom · 3 months

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I regret everything

I regret absolutely EVERYTHING

Edit: there's a part 2 now

#TURKISH DEUCE REAL!!!!!#RAHHHHHHHHHHH #🇹🇷🇹🇷🇹🇷🇹🇷🇹🇷🇹🇷#twst

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thespiderinyourroom · 3 months

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say the right thing at the right time about the right topic and you'll be able to turn solomon the wise into a big silly rambling nerd. his voice will still be calm and smooth, if not a little high, but his face says it all. eyes wide and sparkling as he recounts the coolest moments, a slight blush on his cheeks at the events close to his heart, all said with a smile that refuses to leave.

so far, the only known topics that get solomon like this are TSL, creating magic, and his adorable apprentice. he's said he could talk about the first two topics for days, and the third one for weeks.

#he is so nerd im gonna cry #I LOVE HIM SM YOU HAVE NO İDEA HE IS SO OMH #my fav nerd #obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x mc

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thespiderinyourroom · 4 months

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Chapter 1-2 [Sorceress!Yuu x OB!Characters]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: A powerful sorceress, capable of granting wishes, finds herself locked inside a mirror. To break free, she will need to seek the help of Yuu from another universe.

♡︎ Warning: None just Riddle being cute

「 ✦ PREVIOUS ✦ 」「 ✦ NEXT ✦ 」

The plan was simple: get inside the castle, befriend Riddle, and try to change his mind about the collared people. But nothing really seemed simple to you, especially when you were expected to befriend a tyrant.

So, there you sat, perched on a chair, patiently waiting as the trio rummaged through outfits to find the perfect disguise for your role as the new palace architect. Che’nya, with a mischievous grin, mentioned the disappearance of the actual architect, leaving you with a nagging feeling that the details were best left unexplored. You couldn’t help but wonder how Riddle wouldn’t immediately recognize someone he had recently collared. Ace, unperturbed, dropped a blond wig onto your head, bearing an uncanny resemblance to your own hair, just a different hue—an inquiry you dared not voice. Deuce, on the other hand, overwhelmed you with volumes of the Queendom’s architectural styles. Days stretched into a week, your nose buried in dusty tomes, absorbing everything to brace yourself for whatever Riddle might demand. Amidst your studious immersion, you longed for the day this charade would come to an end.

Grim slept next to your books, he looked so peacefull as you reached for his head giving him some pats, brushing his fur with your fingers. At least someone was having a good time.

"What do you mean I, the great Grim, can't go with my Human?" Grim's voice reverberated in protest as he pointed an accusatory finger at Che’nya. The four of you sat sipping tea before the planned departure, and Che’nya had insisted that Grim couldn't accompany you. The rationale given was that Grim might cause disruptions that would compromise the entire plan. Initially, you had reservations about separating from your feline companion, having never ventured anywhere without him. However, Che’nya’s reasoning began to resonate.

"I also believe it’s for the best, Grim," you said, trying to pacify your betrayed friend. "Your help is crucial here." But Grim's disappointment was evident as he refused to meet your eyes.

"Fine. Go without me. But if you need help, don’t even think about calling for me!" With that proclamation, Grim stormed off, leaving you alone with Che’nya.

"How are you feeling? Tomorrow is the big day," he said, flashing a broad smile that did little to ease your nerves. You'd spent a lot of time contemplating what could go wrong—whether Riddle might recognize you, discover that he had collared you, or find your true intentions.

"Nervous, but I think I can handle it," you replied, attempting to project confidence.

"That's what I want to hear, nya!" He rose from his seat, offering a gentle smile that seemed to reassure you that everything would turn out okay. And you trusted him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

In front of you loomed the gates of the castle, towering above you like monumental giants. As nervous thoughts raced through your mind, you couldn't help but chuckle, recalling these particular gate styles from one of the books you had studied. Oddly, this recollection gave you a surge of confidence. When the guards ushered you inside, you encountered Riddle once more, this time greeted with a warmer reception. Surprisingly, he seemed pleased to see you. Perhaps your initial encounter had simply been an anomaly, or perhaps he saw you in a new light now.

Riddle took your hand and bestowed a quick kiss upon it/gave you a quick handshake in welcome. "I've heard quite a bit about you, an architect of considerable renown," he praised, elevating your spirits even though these praises weren't intended for you. "But, pardon my frankness, I had envisioned you differently." His comment made you widen your eyes, and you felt a sudden shiver run down your body.

"I hear that often," you replied smoothly, trying to maintain composure. "Before we discuss the building plans, I'd love a tour of the palace, just to gather some initial inspiration. If that's possible." You glanced around the entrance, taking in the surrounding rose-filled bushes.

"Please allow me to escort you around." Riddle's company led you through various rooms and halls within the castle, each adorned in shades of reds and whites. The floors boasted a chessboard pattern in black and white, a pristine and luxurious atmosphere entirely distinct from the dusty tower you once called home. After an extensive tour, Riddle guided you outside, revealing the verdant gardens and a sprawling rose labyrinth, meticulously tended by the royal gardeners. Finally, your journey concluded at a collapsed building.

"Several months ago, the collared peasants rebelled against my mother's regime and destroyed this beautifully crafted building," Riddle spoke, a hint of disdain evident in his voice as he referred to the collared people.

"Rest assured, there's nothing beyond my ability to build. I'll create something that will please the Queen's desires and more," you assured him with a smile, earning visible satisfaction from Riddle.

"Very well." Some guards approached, and Riddle turned to leave. "I entrust the rest to your capable hands," he stated before departing.

With a sigh of relief, you released the breath you'd been holding. Everything was proceeding perfectly, just as you'd hoped. Gazing at the ruined building, you found the guards and workers awaiting your instructions. "I need some paper and a pencil."

Swiftly, you sketched structures inspired by the palace's designs, blending in elements from other styles that harmonized well. After several hours immersed in the drawings, you raised your head to find all eyes on your sketches. A twinge of embarrassment hit knowing they'd witnessed the entire process. However, the awe and admiration in their expressions reassured you that your work was appreciated. Rising from your seat, you began directing everyone around, bracing yourself for the tasks ahead. This month would be demanding, but you were prepared.

Lying on the bed, you relished the comfort of the room Riddle had assigned you. It was quite spacious, and it struck you that Riddle seemed particularly fond of this architect. It dawned on you that you knew so little about this person—if Riddle asked you something, you’d be completely at a loss. Determined to remedy this, you resolved to locate the palace library the next day and educate yourself about the architect.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

You wandered through the palace walls, groggy from the night before, in search of the library. After a long walk, you finally found it and stepped inside. The sheer size of the place left you in awe. The bookshelves stretched like the halls themselves, laden with books of various sizes and hues. Everything was meticulously organized and devoid of any dust. There was so much to read, and yet so little time. For now, your focus was on learning about the architect. You hurriedly looked through the books about this strange figure. Fortunately, their face was never shown, signifying their desire for privacy. Most of the works were stunning, intricate creations, teeming with details you'd never encountered in the books Deuce had provided. You made mental notes about these, realizing that diverging too much from what Riddle envisioned could raise suspicions.

As you returned the books to their places, one peculiar volume caught your eye. It bore your last name, prompting a moment of confusion until you plucked it from the shelf. Inside, you discovered a book chronicling your parents' journey. It vividly portrayed snowy landscapes and recounted how they had earned their place as landowners, working their way into prosperity to establish something in their name. Memories from your childhood flooded back—moments with your mother, interactions with villagers, and the constant presence of a childhood friend who was always by your side. Everything seemed blissful, which made you wonder why they had locked you away in the tower. Questions swirled in your mind, but a strange, unsettling feeling urged you to cease your inquiry, casting a shadow over your thoughts.

Reluctantly, you returned the book to its spot, unwilling to dwell further. With a heavy heart, you moved toward the exit, your head bowed in contemplation. However, just before leaving, you noticed someone else in the library—a surprise visitor. To your astonishment, it was none other than Riddle.

You pondered whether engaging in conversation with Riddle was a wise choice. He appeared consumed by work and potentially quick to collar anyone deviating from his desires. However, before you could depart, your eyes met, and you found yourself captivated by his stunning blue gaze.

“Y/N,” he greeted you warmly, rising to meet you, and you were jolted out of your daydreaming.

“Forgive me, I just—”

“No need for apologies. In fact, I would love your company if you permit,” his tone unexpectedly tender. Was this the same person who had erupted when Grim landed on his head?

“Of course. How may I assist?”

“I’d like to hear your thoughts on my designs.” He gestured toward his table, displaying the most intricately detailed building plans you’d ever seen on paper. Your reaction was instinctual, you had to stifle your amazement. If he saw the design you'd given to the construction team, he might have certainly collared you.

“This looks—” You paused, realizing you were playing the role of a distinguished architect whom Riddle admired. You couldn’t merely fawn over his work. “Pleasant.” Despite the underwhelming choice of words, Riddle’s eyes widened with pride.

“I’ve been studying your designs extensively, attempting to draft the building myself. But my efforts could never compare to the real artist.” He regarded you as if you were his shining star, leaving you to wonder if he realized you weren’t the actual architect.

“I’m glad you appreciate my designs. It’s always nice to find a fan.” You offered a smile, and he reciprocated, clearly pleased with your words. Yet, even as he smiled, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, indicative of fatigue. “Have you been overworking yourself?” You posed the question, realizing afterward that it might not have been the most appropriate thing to ask.

“Well, I have my duties as the future king of the Queendom of Roses. I can’t simply set them aside,” he responded, a glimmer of happiness shining through as he realized your concern for him. On your end, you grappled with the situation. Your intention was to grow closer to Riddle to facilitate removing the collars from everyone, so you needed a way to break down his barriers.

“How about baking some strawberry tarts?” you suggested, sporting a cheerful smile. He looked at you with a quizzical expression, seemingly ready to dismiss your idea. “If you need to leave midway, I can finish what we started and bring you the tarts when you’re free. So, no need to worry about a thing.” You offered solutions, trying to convince him, though he seemed puzzled by your eagerness to spend time with him.

“If you insist, I could permit it,” he agreed, adjusting his tie in a nervous gesture. “But everything must be done precisely! And the kitchen must be perfectly cleaned afterward,” he stated, almost as an order. You nodded in agreement.

“Follow me, Riddle!” you exclaimed, taking his arm and guiding him to the kitchen, causing him to widen his eyes at your bold actions.

In the midst of baking the tarts, Riddle meticulously followed the culinary book's instructions, determined to use precise measurements. Any deviation seemed to stress him, and he'd restart if things didn't align perfectly. As he focused intently on each step, you couldn't help but feel frustrated by his strict approach.

“Riddle!” you called out, finally voicing your exhaustion with his rigidity. Startled, he dropped the spoon he was holding, his face flushing with a mix of emotions, perhaps anger or embarrassment, you couldn't discern. But you persisted, “This is why your designs aren’t perfect! Things like this aren’t meant to be perfect, they’re meant for the fun of it!” He seemed to freeze, absorbing your words. “When I come up with new designs, I don’t aim for perfection, I draw what I find fun at the moment,” you elaborated. His mouth opened and closed, as if struggling with your point. He rubbed his chin, lost in thought.

“So… I need to have fun? Stop trying to make my designs perfect?” he murmured, almost to himself, but you caught every word. You nodded, handing him the dropped spoon. He hesitated but then swiftly scooped flour, bypassing the measurements this time. You saw him gulp, battling his instinctual need for precision, yet he bravely added the flour to the batter.

“See? You’re getting the hang of it!” You clapped your hands, prompting a deeper blush from Riddle, who let out a sigh but continued to bake. You sensed that he had relaxed, gradually enjoying the process of making tarts with you. Despite his attempts to maintain a pristine kitchen and occasionally strive for perfect measurements, you noticed a significant change in his behavior, and that was what mattered most.

As you grabbed a large bag of flour, you lost your balance and tripped over your own feet, sending the flour cascading onto the floor and covering you both in its powdery embrace. Panic surged through you, as you slowly glanced at Riddle who also had been covered in flour from head to toe, you anticipated Riddle's reaction to the mess, believing that now even Che’nya could not save you from this one, but unexpectedly, he burst into a hearty laughter. You froze, stunned by his unanticipated response. Instead of anger, his laughter filled the room, and he even walked over, extending his hand to help you up from the flour-covered floor.

“I haven’t laughed like this in such a long time,” he chuckled, his cheeks tinted pink from the flour. His laughter was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile back. However, amidst the chaos and his laughter, you noticed something about him that felt strangely captivating, even covered in flour he seemed to have this angelic look to him, wait, what did you mean with angelic? Did he always look this nice? You shook off the thought, dismissing it as a trick of the moment.

“Sorry, I will clean all of this!” You hurriedly searched for a broom, but Riddle placed a hand on your shoulder, a warm and friendly gesture.

“I used to visit a friend of mine when I was young,” he reminisced, an unfamiliar softness in his tone. “One day, he tried to teach me how to bake. That day, I dropped a full bag of flour. I never heard the end of it from my mom, but it was such a nice moment…” His words trailed off, and both of you stood there, flour-covered but sharing a moment of connection. His hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment before he withdrew it, seemingly realizing the gesture's duration. “Sorry…” His demeanor shifted slightly as he began to look for a broom. “We should clean all of this,” he suggested, and you nodded in agreement, grateful for the lighter atmosphere between you both.

The rest of your free time was spent enjoying the tarts and tea, chatting about various topics. It became evident that Riddle was gradually opening up to you. Even if it was initially part of the plan, you couldn't deny that you enjoyed his company.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

After a long day, you finally returned to your room, feeling exhausted. The building constructions were progressing smoothly, even better than expected. As you made your way towards the closet to change into your pajamas, a strange knock caught your attention. It seemed odd for someone to visit at such a late hour, but you decided to investigate. Upon opening the door, no one was in sight. You shrugged it off, thinking it might have been your imagination until the same knock echoed again. This time, you scanned the room, even checking the windows, but found no one, until your gaze shifted to the mirror in your room.

“This is the first time we get to talk properly,” the strange woman in the mirror addressed you, her lips moving in sync with her words, yet she remained motionless, fixated on you. You felt frozen, a chill creeping over you—did ghosts exist? Were you so fatigued and sleep-deprived that you began to see apparitions? “I was expecting this reaction, but relax, I am not here to harm you. Quite the contrary, I want to help you.” Her voice, despite standing next to the mirror, sounded distant and echoed faintly.

“Who are you?” You approached the enigmatic figure cautiously.

“I am you from another universe. I believe your friend Che’nya has already explained most of it.” The revelation stunned you. She had been the one to free you from the collar. Hearing Che’nya's tale of being cursed to live inside a mirror, unable to experience the outside world, evoked a pang of empathy. Having been locked in a tower yourself for so long, devoid of interaction and exposure to the outside world, you could empathize with her isolation.

“How do I set you free?” Your directness caught her off guard, her head bowed to conceal her sorrow. It felt surreal—her facial features mirrored yours, almost like watching your reflection cry.

“Only someone with an immense amount of magical power can release me,” she replied, raising her head to fix her gaze on you.

“But is there anyone out there with that kind of power?” You questioned the possibility. While many powerful wizards existed, like Riddle, you doubted they could intervene in such a situation.

“You,” she responded, and your eyes widened in surprise before adopting a more skeptical expression. “I can grant any wish, but with each wish comes a curse that consumes the wisher, slowly eroding their sanity and driving them mad. Strangely, it also bestows a certain strength upon them.”

Your astonishment grew; the thought of losing your mind over a wish you were still uncertain about was daunting. Sensing your concern, she offered crucial reassurance. “Given that we are the same person, this curse will affect you differently. Your sanity will deplete at a slower rate.”

“Why does it affect me differently, and what happens if I completely lose my mind? What then?” You felt the weight of the seriousness setting in, wondering if helping her was worth such a dire situation.

“This is our curse. It works like poison—the more exposure you have, the less impact it will have over time.” She paused, extending her hand toward the mirror’s surface. “If you do succumb, I’ve discovered a way to undo the curse during my confinement here.”

“And what’s that?” You inquired, intrigued.

“A true love’s kiss.” The two of you stood facing each other in an awkward silence. What did she mean by a true love's kiss? You hadn't found someone who made your heart skip a beat, and as you began to voice these thoughts, the image of Riddle laughing, covered in flour, flashed into your mind, reddening your face.

“W-what? S-so, that means you’d just kiss all those guys you cursed?” You blurted out, still rattled by thoughts of Riddle. As soon as the words left your mouth, both of you seemed to stutter, embarrassed like two high school girls gossiping about their crushes.

It took a while for both of you to calm down and realize the gravity of the situation. Sighing, you took a few steps back and settled onto the bed, facing the sorceress. Emerging from a tower, only to be thrust into this chaos, you wondered if things were spiraling further out of control with each passing moment.

"Can't I just wish for you to be free?" you asked her, as this seemed to make the most sense.

"The power of the wish is connected with the magical power of the wisher." She looked at you with a sad expression. "And for now, you don't possess enough magical power. The only way for you to get stronger is to wish for smaller things for now." You nodded, annoyed with the revelation. Of course, things couldn't be as easy as you wanted them to be. How foolish of you. As you thought about any wish, with nothing coming to mind, you watched as she slowly started vanishing from the mirror. Some sort of magical dust slowly made your reflection show in the mirror as it used to. As you heard a strange voice in the back of your mind, "If you ever feel like asking for a wish, repeat these words.”

“Wish and want in sacred verse, Grant my heart's desire, universe.”

That was an incantation. You rushed to grab some paper before forgetting it, but as you started jotting it down, you realized it had ingrained itself in your mind. It seemed intentional, as if you couldn’t erase it even if you wanted to. You relaxed, lying back on the bed, letting your tired eyes close. Tomorrow promised to be a long day.

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#YOU ARE FEEDİNG US GOOD LIKE DAMNNNNNNN #that soft moment with riddle 😭😭#Twst #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twst mc #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts

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thespiderinyourroom · 4 months

Text

Chapter 1-1 [Sorceress!Yuu x OB!Characters]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: A powerful sorceress, capable of granting wishes, finds herself locked inside a mirror. To break free, she will need to seek the help of Yuu from another universe.

♡︎ This is the continuation from my other post.

♡︎To everyone that liked my previous post I just want to say that I love all of you and I hope the stars, planets and universe aligns so that your 2024 is the best ever <3

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Amidst the empty, snow-covered landscape of a long-forgotten winter, a figure draped in somber black attire crossed the fields. His stride cut through the pristine white expanse, his flowing locks of snow-white hair blending seamlessly with the wintry hues around him. The biting cold seemed inconsequential to this man, hardened by relentless training to serve as a guard in the court of the future king of Briar Valley. Yet, despite his noble purpose, he found himself far away from his liege, drawn back to rescue a friend lost in time.

A letter had reached him from the parents of Y/N, a childhood friend trapped within the confines of a tower nestled within the lands owned by the rich couple. Silver had always harbored reservations about the idea of a tower, but he understood his lack of power amidst the chaos that had consumed their younger years. When the plea arrived, urging him to free his friend, he couldn't bear to remain idle. He felt an undeniable pull, a yearning to reunite with a long-lost friend and perhaps seek forgiveness for the lost time that had passed between them.

With determination etched upon his face, he embarked on this solitary journey, fueled by the desire to not only free Y/N from captivity but also to rekindle the bonds of friendship and make amends for the years that had slipped away. Following the map enclosed in the letter, he ventured into an eerie, desolate forest marked by lifeless trees stretching endlessly. Encountering peculiar creatures and treacherous assailants along the way, he pressed on, unfazed by the perils that beset his path. His determination was unwavering; he had journeyed from afar, yearning for this moment since their last meeting.

With each cautious step, he navigated the labyrinthine forest, drawing closer to the rumored tower guarded by a mystical creature claimed to exhale azure flames, capable of reducing a person to ash in moments. Upon breaching the tower's threshold, he discovered an absence of both the fabled beast and his long-lost friend. The room that was purported to house them stood vacant, shattering his expectations and leaving him at a loss.

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You strode along a peculiar path strolling through the dreary expanse of the forest your parents had confined you to. Your memories were a fog, obscuring the reasons for your seclusion within the tower's confines. A nagging feeling warned against unraveling the mystery, urging you to steer clear of seeking answers. Lost in this unfamiliar realm, unexplored before now, you wandered alongside your feline companion, Grim.

"And where are we going?" Grim's fur bristled with frustration. It wasn't solely your desire to escape the tower that wearied Grim; the feline had grown attached to you and relished your notions of venturing beyond to explore the world. Yet, despite days of wandering, the two of you had found no exit from this enigmatic forest.

"Maybe we have been walking in circles?" Your words were hushed, uncertain whether this revelation would soothe Grim. After all, gazing out from the lone window in your tower room, the forest appeared endless, stretching far beyond the eye could see.

Traversing through the forest, you held onto the hope that eventually, some sign would emerge—a new path, a person, perhaps even an entire city. Your resolve remained unwavering; there was no turning back. The tower, a distant memory now, would never hold you captive again. Yet, a chill wind swept through the woods, prompting you to shiver uncontrollably. Your attire, comprised of aged white clothes salvaged from the tower's closet, and a weathered black cloak with a concealing hood, provided little protection against the elements. Grim, your mystical companion, often perched on your shoulders, found comfort in the cloak's embrace.

"If only there were another way to travel," you murmured, casting a glance at your magical feline, who rolled their eyes in exasperation.

"The great Grim isn’t going to carry you on his back!" His retort echoed through the trees, irked by the suggestion. Though capable of transforming into a formidable creature—once the guardian of the tower's confines—he seemingly preferred his diminutive feline form, much to your appreciation of his adorable appearance.

"Well, do you want to keep on walking forever? Because this forest doesn’t seem to ever end." you countered, feeling the strain in your feet from the prolonged confinement within the tower. Your pace had slowed considerably, akin to a sloth's lazy pace. Years of captivity had taken a toll on your body, and each step felt more arduous than the last.

Grim shot you a final glance, resolute in his refusal to transform into a means of transportation. However, he was not without alternative solutions, wielding his magical abilities to devise an unconventional plan. "Pick up that branch," he commanded, prompting your confusion regarding how a mere branch could aid your predicament. "Come on! The great Grim can't do everything alone!" His arms folded in impatience, urging you to comply. Reluctantly, you retrieved the branch as instructed.

Then, with an incantation from Grim, the ordinary branch underwent a peculiar transformation, morphing into a broom-like contraption. Its tips danced with vibrant, colorful blue flames reminiscent of Grim's ears.

"Holy Seven!" You gasped, seizing the strange broom with fascination, astounded by Grim's unexpected prowess. "This is incredible, Grim!" A wide smile graced your face. "But what on earth do we need a broom for?"

Observing your confusion, Grim sighed and facepalmed—acknowledging that your extended seclusion in the tower had left you unaware of certain common knowledge. Brooms, in many circles, were used for flying.

"This is our way out," Grim declared with a mischievous grin, while your eyes widened in apprehension at the revelation.

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Flying on the broom turned out to be an ordeal far worse than sore feet. Each moment aloft sent shivers coursing through you, surpassing even the biting cold of the forest below. Gripping the broom with all your might, you clung to it for dear life, terror seizing your senses as Grim navigated the skies with what felt like reckless abandon. Refusing to glance downward, “Anything new?” you shouted for any updates, determined to keep your focus forward.

"New? Why not see for yourself?" Grim's laughter mingled with the rush of the wind as you struggled to maintain an upright position on the broom. Finally, compelled by curiosity, you dared to steal a glimpse below.

And there it was—a sprawling city sprawled beneath you. Its architecture, a symphony of white and red-hued houses, stood amidst fields of vibrant greenery. Everything appeared serene and harmonious, a stark contrast to the unfamiliar world you had known within the confines of the tower.

As Grim skillfully guided the broom downward, relief flooded over you as your feet finally met solid ground. The sensation of touching the earth after so long brought a rush of happiness, drawing curious gazes from the city dwellers around you.

"After my magnificent assistance, I think I deserve a reward!" Grim proclaimed, his smile wide with expectation. You anticipated the request that would follow. "The illustrious Grim demands a taste of tuna!" His expression held a note of insistence, and you recalled the gold objects you'd brought along from the tower, potential assets for earning some much-needed money.

As you and Grim strolled through the bustling town, you couldn't help but notice the vibrant attire donned by the locals—mostly shades of red. The surroundings were adorned with bushes filled with crimson roses, and the air carried the sweet aroma of baked goods. Selling your possessions yielded the necessary funds for sustenance, and you studied the shops in search of canned tuna. Yet, an enchanting sight halted your quest—a bakery showcasing tantalizing red cakes, their appearance strangely delightful.

Upon entering, a bell chimed, alerting the man at the counter to your presence. He was handsome, with short green hair and a welcoming smile that eased your nerves. Engaging with another person after such isolation felt foreign, leaving you momentarily speechless until he prompted a response.

“Anything you want?”

"Ah! I'd like to try one of those red cakes!" You pointed at the tempting treats, a blush creeping onto your cheeks as he chuckled at your reaction.

"You mean the strawberry tarts?" He retrieved one and continued, noting your apparent unfamiliarity with the locale. "You seem like you're from far away." Your attire betrayed your outsider status amidst the city's vibrant energy.

"I've come from afar." You approached the counter as he carefully packaged the tart. Tendering the money, you hesitated, feeling the weight of conversation hovering awkwardly between you. "This place looks... really lovely..." Social interactions were a challenge after your prolonged seclusion. How did people engage in conversation, anyway? But before you could melt into the floor you heard the sound of the bell again.

The atmosphere in the bakery shifted with the arrival of the hooded figure, their face concealed. While the kind baker engaged them in conversation, you found yourself growing anxious about Grim's whereabouts. Scanning the shop, your worry escalated until an odd noise drew your attention upward. To your shock, Grim perched atop the ceiling boards.

"Get down, Grim," you urged in a hushed tone, attempting to coax him back without drawing attention. But Grim, seemingly preoccupied with exploring, paid no heed to your plea. As he wandered, his paw accidentally struck a weak spot, causing him to tumble down.

Time seemed to slow as you witnessed the unfolding scene—a cinematic sequence unfolding before you. With a horrified scream, you watched as Grim fell down, ultimately landing on top the hooded figure, sending both crashing to the floor. The hooded stranger, now revealed his face in a dark shade of red, while his widened mad eyes looked at you. You tried to reach for his hand to help him get up but he slapped it away.

"You—" His voice quivered with rage. He scrambled to his feet, his fury evident as Grim sought refuge in your arms, fur bristling. "How... How dare you! OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!" You watched as a strange collar appeard on your neck, and the red headed turned to the baker. Riddle's anger seethed as he addressed Trey, his voice tinged with frustration. "What type of customers are these, Trey? You really can't just let everyone enter inside here."

Trey, clearly unsettled by Riddle's outburst, attempted to placate the situation. "I'm sorry, Riddle. They seemed lost, and I thought—"

But Riddle, with a dismissive gesture, cut him off, his demeanor unyielding. "Don't make excuses. Just ensure this doesn't happen again." With an abrupt departure and a reproach directed at Trey, he left the bakery without sparing another glance in your direction.

Concern etched on his face, Trey emerged from behind the counter and approached you, “I’m sorry, Riddle tends to be a litle explosive”.

Grim, perched atop the counter, chimed in, expressing his outrage at Riddle's threatening demeanor. "A little?! It almost looked like he wanted to kill my Human!" Grim exclaimed, hands on his hips, clearly displeased with the understatement.

"Well, I suppose you could interpret it that way..." Trey's response was sheepish, scratching the back of his head. "This isn't an ideal introduction to the Queendom of Roses for you." He stated while eyeing the conspicuous collar around your neck,

“How do I remove this?” you inquired, only to be met with an unexpected revelation from Trey.

"Only Riddle can remove it."

"No way! He didn't even let me get a word in!" Your frustration was palpable, rejecting the notion that Riddle, the irate stranger, held the magic to removing the collar. “Does this mean I will have to live forever like this?”

“I propose we off this Riddle’s head ourselfs!” As Grim enthusiastically proposed taking matters into their own hands, suggesting an extreme solution, Trey visibly grimaced, swiftly dismissing the idea. Your irritation at Riddle's unreasonable behavior grew, feeling unjustly targeted for no reason.

“If you really want I can tell you were the collared people hide?” There was a questioned expression on Trey’s face, not knowing if that would lead you anywhere.

"Wait, there are more people collared by this guy?" The notion of indiscriminate collaring struck you as incredibly unjust. Despite your seclusion in the tower, the concept of such tyranny was abhorrent. "And no one opposes him?"

"That's because he's the future king of the Queendom," Trey revealed, stunning you with the revelation of Riddle's immense power. The gravity of the situation dawned on you—the consequences of opposing someone of Riddle's stature could be dire.

"Where can I find these collared people?" Your desperation for a solution became palpable, realizing that these individuals might hold the key to breaking the spell.

Trey hesitated, scratching his head, hinting at potential complications in locating them. “Well-”

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

By now, you found yourself aligning closely with Grim's idea. Approaching the other side of town, a large group of collared individuals welcomed you. What upset you most was the maltreatment endured by those with collars—those exempt from Riddle's special treatment mocked the collared ones openly. You, too, had been subject to their derisive stares upon exiting Trey's bakery.

Joining the group, you inquired about their experiences with the collars, growing increasingly dismayed at the absurdity of each story you heard.

"He's nothing but a spoiled brat!" shouted a man, his eyes ablaze with defiant confidence. "We ought to band together and overthrow him!"

"See? Even this human has good ideas," Grim chimed in, nestled on your shoulders. "We should support him." Before you could intervene, Grim walked towards the outspoken man.

"Look! A cat with blue ears!" The group stepped back, intrigued by the peculiar feline.

"A cat?! I am Grim the Great! The most powerful and magnificent—" Grim began, boasting about his grandeur until you scooped him up, silencing his self-praise.

"Is that so? If you're as remarkable as you claim, then I'm sure you'll assist us in dealing with Riddle," another voice chimed in. A man with dark blue hair approached, extending a warm welcome. "I'm Deuce. And you?" he asked, his smile inviting and soft-spoken.

"I’m Y/N, and this is Grim,” You pointed at your cute companion who rolled his eyes at Deuce. “we're here seeking any knowledge on how to remove my collar," you explained, only to be met with laughter from the surrounding group, leaving you wide-eyed with embarrassment.

"Don't mean to dash your hopes, but unless you find Riddle in an exceptionally good mood—" His expression conveyed the unlikelihood of such an occurrence. "There's no way to rid of the collar..." The sentiment elicited audible sighs from some listeners, conveying a sense of resignation.

Cursed be the day I left that tower. At least there, you wouldn't have been collared by some random tyrant. “So what is the plan?” Turning to Deuce, you inquired, prompting a shift in his expression, a broad smirk forming.

"Glad you asked. Follow me!" Deuce's demeanor took on a newfound enthusiasm as you trailed after him. Wandering through the streets led you to a peculiar forest, distinctly different from the lush greenery you'd seen while flying on the broom with Grim. This new place felt darker, stranger, and oddly familiar. After a brief walk, you arrived at a large table, adorned with teacups and scattered cake platters, as if a tea party were in progress. A man in purple attire with cat ears sipped tea while a red-headed individual seemed on the verge of pulling his hair out.

"Looks like we've got someone eager to join the party," Deuce announced, drawing the attention of the other two men toward you.

"Great, and what can they do? Unless that cat can shoot lasers from his eyes, I'm not interested in this recruiting thing anymore!" the red-headed man retorted, appearing ready to storm off.

"Relax, Ace," Deuce replied calmly, though his words seemed to only enrage Ace further, prompting him to hurl a cupcake at Deuce. "That's it, I'm tired of this—" Deuce rolled up his sleeves and advanced toward Ace, who stood up, poised for a confrontation.

"You're not from around here, nya~" The sudden, peculiar voice startled you so much that you jumped and let out a startled scream. Your heart raced, proving not quite resilient enough for these unexpected encounters. The owner of the voice chuckled at your reaction, appearing as nothing more than a floating head to your wide-eyed gaze. "Sorry, sorry. Why don't you join our tea party?" A phantom hand rested on your shoulder, though nothing visible was there.

"What... What's happening...?" Your voice quivered with uncertainty as the enigmatic cat-man guided you toward the table. Nearby, Ace and Deuce tumbled on the ground, their faces smeared with cake. "An invisible cat, two guys throwing cake at each other... What else will I see today? A caterpillar smoking?"

"Perhaps it'll show up later," the cat guy replied with a cryptic air, leaving you unsure if he was joking or being serious. "Now, tell me about yourself~"

As you recounted your tale, the tea grew cold, and Ace and Deuce, their attire adorned with grass and cake stains, eventually joined the tea party. You detailed your tower confinement, your encounter with Riddle, and your awareness of the collared individuals. Che'nya listened intently, hanging on every detail.

"And why were you locked inside that tower?" he inquired, his grin teasingly cheeky.

"That's a good question," you admitted, realizing it had been so long that you couldn't recall the reason. Vague memories of your parents bidding farewell as a man escorted you into a carriage, destined for the tower, flickered in your mind. Struggling to piece together the specifics, your memories remained frustratingly elusive. Sensing your silence, Che'nya spoke up.

"Are you familiar with a story about a sorceress locked inside a tower?" he inquired. The tale was unfamiliar to you; however, you felt his penetrating gaze, probing for any hint of recognition. "I suppose not, but it's curious how closely your story aligns with hers."

"What do you mean?" you inquired, puzzled by Che'nya's fascination with this fairy tale.

"You see, this sorceress was so powerful, surely her magic could break Riddle's," he explained. Glancing around, you noticed Ace and Deuce attentively absorbing Che'nya's words as if they were the most profound.

"So, you think I'm the sorceress?" you ventured, feeling a surge of uncertainty.

"No, that's impossible, nya~" He swiftly dismissed your suggestion, chuckling as if you'd said something ludicrous. "But what if she is listening to our conversation?" In an instant, his demeanor shifted to one of seriousness, eliciting audible gulps from Ace and Deuce, their expressions now reflecting horror at the possibility of an unknown presence among them.

"If she's here, why would she help me?" you pondered aloud.

"In the story, this sorceress is cursed to live forever inside a mirror. Only someone from outside can help her escape—someone she could trust. But she only trusts herself..." Che'nya paused, savoring the suspense, taking a sip of tea. "And the two of you seem to be the same person, just in different universes."

"This is the most absurd thing you've ever said, Che'nya," Ace scoffed, rising from the table. "If that were true, why does Y/N still have the collar?"

"Because she didn't try to remove it," Che'nya promptly replied, exuding confidence. His gaze flickered to you, almost challenging you to prove him right.

Your hand reached for the collar, not anticipating any change as you attempted to concentrate on the thought of it disappearing. With closed eyes, you visualized being alone, solely you and the collar. Yet, there was an intrusion, a presence beyond Che'nya's invisible touch—a touch woven of magic, immaterial yet undeniably real. When you opened your eyes, Ace and Deuce stared wide-eyed as the collar slipped from your neck and clattered to the ground.

“No way…” Deuce’s voice came as a whisper, frozen in place as he stared at the collar on the floor.

“That's great, now take mine off!” Ace dashed to you, seizing your hands and pressing them against his collar, a wide grin spread across his face. “C’mon! I have things I want to do!” Despite his selfishness, you complied, attempting the same method as before. You closed your eyes, focusing solely on the collar, anticipating the peculiar presence, but it never opened. “Why is it not working?”

“I don’t know…?” You were equally perplexed. Che’nya disregarded Ace’s complaints, briskly approaching you.

“Well, this is perfect! Now we just need to get you inside the palace!” Deuce stepped closer, expressing his surprise.

“Wait, Y/N will do that? I thought you wanted someone familiar with the layout and stuff!”

“No, Y/N is perfect for the job.” Che’nya's innocent smile transformed into a sly grin, leaving you bewildered at the sudden turn of events.

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♡︎Thank you for reading!

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#I LOBE THIS SO MUCHHHHHAHHSHFHDJDNS #AND CHENYA IS HWRE TOO HELLOOOOO 🌹🌹#twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #deuce spade #twst ace #twst chenya

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