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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Monster Mayhem: Don't Fear the Reaper

Gender Neutral Reader x Rook Hunt Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Running a little pâtisserie is quaint, and homey, and should not in any way get you involved with anything shady. Let alone the strange bounty hunter who prowls through your little town like the Grim Reaper himself. And yet here you are, teaching this literal murderer how to use a napkin.

A/N: Based on this wonderful brain rot from a very lovely anon! Also apologies in advance to anyone who actually knows French, because I do not lol. So Rook's babbling is all Google baby

[PART 1] [PART 2]

There was a murderer at your window, and you weren’t really sure what to do about it.

Well, maybe not actually a murderer. Bounty Hunters tended not to wind up in prison after dragging back the desecrated remains of their latest quarry. But still. You recognized the black plume tucked slickly into his wide-brimmed, purple, hat, and the pale, bright, bob of his hair was nearly luminescent in the dark. He was certainly the least covert assassin you’d ever seen, and you had seen him. It was hard not to. Traipsing through town to deposit every wayward criminal, every long-lost villain, at the doorstep of who’d ever called for him.

‘Rook Hunt’ you thought his name was, or at least, that’s what the old woman in the market would call him before crossing herself and spitting in the dirt. It was all a bit on the nose in your humble opinion, especially with that strange, twisting, ebony, bow of his strung across his back. ‘Hunter’ indeed. But it’s not like you’ve ever done anything to warrant winding up in one of those dripping burlap sacks of his, so you’d let the dude have his drama. It was probably good advertisement. And it’s not like the guy had ever bothered you before.

You thought that reassurance on repeat as you watched said not-quite-a-murderer stare through the front window of your little bakery, as if your rising dough had been kneaded with the secrets of the known universe. But he didn’t do anything—just kept watching with rapt attention as you brushed egg wash over your pie crusts and swapped trays in and out of the ancient, brick, oven.

In all honesty, he was far from the strangest thing that’d been plastered to your window in the early AM, and it wasn’t like he was licking the glass or anything. So you let it slide.

One of the custard tarts you pulled from the oven had cracked across the top. Nothing out of the ordinary—there was always at least one dud in a batch. Normally you saved the rejects for Ace or Deuce to gobble up (depending on whoever managed to pop by first), but this one you set aside onto a little tea plate. You topped it with a dollop of freshly whipped cream and a spoonful of the blackberries you’d left sitting in sugar overnight. Then you plucked up a spare napkin and made your way out from behind the counter.

When you opened the door to your little bakery, the tingling overhead bell warmed your unwanted guest’s expression in a way that it most certainly should not have—lighting the whole of him with this sort of wide-eyed, innocent, joy that belonged nowhere on the face of someone you’d watched cart literal corpses into town.

“Mon pâtissier!” he chirped. “What a fine morning it is, no?”

The sun hadn’t even started to rise yet. You could still hear the drone of crickets and toads in the distance, basking in the humid darkness of the night.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “We’re not open for,” you glanced at the moon, still full in the sky, “at least four more hours. If that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“Oh—non, non, non,” Rook waved you off. “I just wanted to watch!”

“…Watch?” you repeated.

“It’s quite the fascinating process!” he absolutely beamed. “Taking such basic, individual, components and turning them into something so spectacularly sweet and heartwarming! Quelle inventivité! I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about your marvelous menu!”

‘From who?’ you wanted to ask, because you’d never heard of anyone being able to hold a conversation with this man for more than a stuttered sentence at a time, let alone for long enough to go about giving dessert recommendations. But there was a streak of red blood across his cheek that still looked fresh enough to not even have gone tacky yet, and now that you looked closer, his dark gloves were perhaps a shade too dark to not have been, well…

You sighed and reminded yourself once again that is was absolutely not your business, before handing him the napkin.

He stared at it with that same sort of rapt fascination that had you wondering if this man had ever actually interacted with proper civilization in his entire life.

“Wipe your hands,” you demanded with a huff, and he dutifully scrubbed at his stained fingers. Once he was clean enough that he was at least no longer dripping unmentionables all along your windowsill, you held out the little saucer for him to take.

“Pour moi?” he muttered, looking a bit starstruck.

“If you’re going to say all those nice things about my food, you may as well get to try what you’re complimenting,” you shrugged, and that same eager enthusiasm lit his face all over again. “And it will be a nice treat to take home with you,” you emphasized, with all the intonation of a cheery ‘please get the fuck out before you scare away all my customers for the day.’

But instead of turning and meandering off back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of, he just kept staring at the little treat like he had no idea what to do with it.

“It’s a tart,” you said blandly, fighting the furrow in your brow.

Rook repeated ‘a tart’ under his breath like it was some kind of ancient, forbidden, enchantment, and not like it was literally scrawled into the little menu sign at your door at least a dozen times over.

The Bounty Hunter peered at the little custard treat like you’d handed him a treasure beyond measure. After a moment of carefully poking at the browned crust like it wasn’t literally meant to break apart beneath one’s fingers, he looked back over at you with eyes that were far, far, too green. He lifted the tart up like he meant to give it back to you.

“I ought to offer you la première bouchée,” he smiled.

You blinked, taken aback, and pushed the plate back into his hands. “That’s not how free samples work.”

Rook tossed his head back with a bout of boisterous laughter that should have been loud enough to wake everyone on the block. You glanced around nervously, hoping no one was about to come running out to make noise complaints.

“Ahh~ But how else will I know the best manner in which to savor such a treat?”

“You eat it,” you gaped. And then, slowly, because you weren’t even sure you were dealing with a functional human being anymore. “With your teeth.”

The Bounty Hunter, with his blood smeared cheeks and even bloodier clothes, put all those shiny, pearly whites of his on display in a merry grin. He swept forward in a grand bow that had the feather in his hat bobbing about in a way that reminded you far too much of a wagging tail.

“Of course!” he chirped. “In my home you said, yes?”

Please, you wanted to groan. Go there. Leave.

“Ideally,” you said instead, and Rook ducked his head until that purple hat of his had cast the whole of his face into shadow. He reached up to tap two fingers against the wide brim and tip it forward.

“Merci, merci!” he trilled. “Then I will endeavor to consume this marvelous spécialité humaine in the proper fashion. A very good morning to you then, cher pâtissier!”

He straightened with a merry little hum and began making his way back down the cobblestone road. In the soft light of the setting moon, his footsteps left odd prints in their wake—inky, black, dripping things that had faded entirely by the time you were able to focus enough to get a proper look at them, leaving you wondering if they’d really just been nothing but a trick of the night.

Well, that was fucking weird,you frowned, shaking the fuzz from your head. You slipped back inside and the door jingled pleasantly as it slammed behind you. But then again, when wasn’t customer service a trip? These people were all ridiculous.

Bright and early the next morning, you were waiting for Deuce to arrive with his delivery of a fresh crate of eggs. It was ungodly early, as it always was. But at least there was no hunter at your window this time around—

There was a bang and a screech, and then an unfortunate sort of cracking-squishing-yucky noise that sounded an awful lot like a couple dozen eggs meeting their doom. You frowned and tucked your rag into the ribbons of your apron and ducked out from the backroom with a sigh. Deuce was at the door. Or, well, Deuce was on the ground in front of your door. With the shattered, yolk, remnants of your shipment scattered all around him.

“I’m not paying for that,” you huffed irritably, and your friend looked up with a squawk.

He looked like he was trying to say something, but his face just kept flashing back and forth between deathly pale and a miserable sort of mottled red.

“I—! You—! And he—!”

“Use your words, Spade,” you sighed.

“I do believe he’s trying his best, cher pâtissier!”

You froze, and turned in near-slow-motion to see a beaming Bounty Hunter crouched at one of the little painted benches lined up neatly along your storefront. Not on one, like a normal person. But beside one. On the ground. There was no blood on him today. None that was very obviously dripping down his face at the very least. He didn’t seem like he’d come bearing any ill will, but your Chicken Dealer was still splayed out on the ground—nearly convulsing—so that wasn’t a great sign either.

“What’s going on out here?” you demanded, hands at your hips.

“I do believe Monsieur Spade had himself a bit of a fright,” Rook beamed, and then turned towards your very gaunt looking friend with a soft tut-tut noise that for all its amiability didn’t sound particularly sympathetic. “You really ought to work on your balance, hmm? Alas, all these petits oeufs have gone to waste.”

“What?!” Deuce immediately bristled, on the defensive. “If you hadn’t scared me, then none of these chicks would have had to die so tragically in the first place!”

“For the last time,” you sighed, grinding the heels of your palms into your eyes. “Unfertilized farm eggs are not baby chicks.”

“But Ace said—”

“Enough! With what Ace said!” you snapped, exhaustion and a sore lack of tea, or coffee, or anything wearing away at your already fragile sanity. “Ace would sell you snake oil and cry to your face about you underpaying for it!”

“Oh?” Rook chirped, unfolding himself from his crouch to stand at his full height. He wasn’t particularly gangly or long limbed—not even especially tall, all things considered. But there was something about him that made him loom. From the sharp cut of his purple robes to the harsh, starched, white of his tight collar. He was neat, composed. And yet… very much not civilized. “Is this not a person who wishes you well, cher pâtissier?”

You frowned, something odd tugging at a sixth sense of yours. Just… a little something on the periphery of your nerves, singing that the words you chose now would mean a lot more than they ought to.

You hummed, low in your throat, and considered.

“Ace is himself,” you said finally, “but he’s a friend nonetheless.”

“Magnifique!” Rook beamed and clapped his hands together with a near lovelorn sigh, all at once perfectly pleasant and soft. “It is such a very good thing to have friends!”

“…Is that what you are?” Deuce asked, enough of that enraged spunk fading away to leave him properly cautious once more. His blue eyes flickered pointedly from the bounty hunter, to you, and back. “A friend?”

You sighed and turned to retreat back into your little shop without a word. Deuce scrambled to his feet to follow you in hesitantly, still dripping with the remnants of too many eggs. You shot him a look, and he immediately darted over to the mop and bucket you kept propped up in the corner. Rook stood in the doorway, nearly just a blur of bruised shadow against the backdrop of the pre-dawn darkness, and you watched him out of the corner of your eye. After a long moment of terse silence, he stepped beyond the threshold with a little hum. He wiped his feet pointedly on your little welcome mat, and then turned to stand at the counter. He fished around in the pockets of his cloak for a moment before withdrawing a strange little flower. He placed it on the countertop with a bright smile that crinkled the corners of his green eyes.

You stepped forward to observe it curiously, and your brows shot up in surprise.

It wasn’t a flower at all. What had looked like the folded arch of soft petals was actually a dainty pair of wings. It was a tiny butterfly—caught in a perpetual sort of stillness. It was bright, and colorful, and so carefully preserved that even when you trailed a flour-coated finger along the thin membranes of its wings, it stayed clean and crisp.

“What’s this for?” you asked.

“Payment, of course!” Rook smiled. “For the lovely treat you gifted me the other day.”

You sighed, not at all in the mood to discuss the lack of viable conversion rates between copper coins and bugs.

So instead you settled on huffing, “Free samples are free. It’s in the name.”

Rook just kept on smiling, unbothered. Deuce knocked into some set of drawers or other—or maybe the coatrack. Who knew—and you shot him an irritable little scowl. The guy was like a bull in a china shop on the best of days, let alone when he was trying to multitask, and be sneaky about it all the while. The bounty hunter’s grin twitched a bit at the corners, like the idea of your blue-haired friend trying to stealthily keep a watch on him was just the funniest thing.

You glanced back down at the little, frozen, butterfly. It really was very pretty, even if it was a little odd.

When you ducked back behind the counter, you unearthed a blueberry muffin from one of many stacks of trays there. It was little lopsided, and maybe there were a few too many bits of fruit in it. Surely no one would have wanted it anyways.

You plopped it on the countertop, and both Rook’s eyebrows shot all the way up his forehead. When he made no move to take it, you pushed the confection closer. The wrapper slid along the counter in a heavy, sticky, way. You’d have to remember to wipe it down again after. The Hunter reached out carefully to pluck the treat up between his fingers. He squished it delicately, in a similarly cautious way as to how you’d stroked the little butterfly.

“Is this also for eating at home?” he asked, observing the offering with a wide, wonderous, expression.

“Yes,” you said, just in time for Deuce to nearly annihilate your trash bin. “Please enjoy it.” Please get out. You’re distracting my maid.

Rook Hunt dipped into another of those ridiculous, bobbing, bows and pinched the brim of his hat between his fingers.

“Your generosity continues to warm my heart, mon cher,” he crooned, eyes practically sparkling from behind the sharp cut of his heavily lined lashes. “I will endeavor to return your kindness tenfold! A hundred!”

You waved off his sentimentality with a flick of your wrist and a not so delicate ‘shoo shoo.’

The hunter left your little bakery with a spring in his step and an outpouring of flowery promises that had your head spinning. He melted seamlessly into the shadows of the early morning, and between one blink and the next, he’d vanished entirely.

You would have thoroughly enjoyed the well-earned silence that followed, if not for the veritable storm cloud brewing over your friend’s head.

“Do I get one…?” Deuce asked finally, staring outright at the remaining muffins and sounding small and hopeful. And like that clearly wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all.

“Maybe if I had the eggs to make more,” you lamented, brushing your hands against your apron.

Deuce made a wounded noise which you had exactly zero sympathy for. You got to work wiping down the counters and sorting through the bits and bobs you’d need to start your day.

“…You know he’s not right, don’t you? That bounty hunter?” Deuce finally said, setting the mop aside. “You must have heard at least some of the rumors floating around town. I don’t think anyone even knows if the guy’s human.”

You shrugged.

“Anyone who has to wake up when I wake up each morning has long given up on humanity anyways,” you droned, only sort of half kidding.

Deuce frowned, clearly unhappy with your non-answer.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” he asked, stern in his fretting. There was still a big ol’ chunk of eggshell tangled up in his bangs.

“When I am ever not?” you smiled, and carefully pocketed the little, blue, butterfly.

When you popped by the market stalls after closing shop for the day, the street was abuzz with all the usual gossipy nonsense that you’d long since learned to let settle at the back of your brain like white noise. You were busy debating if you had enough arms to manage balancing yet another bag of strawberries (they were at their height of freshness these past weeks it seemed, and you were like a little fruit goblin hoarding them while you could), when a particularly shrill bit of chatter worked its way past the pleasant curtain you’d let fall across your thoughts.

“There was another one,” the butcher’s wife whispered in a way that was most certainly not a whisper.

“I heard,” chittered the man who really should have been trying to sell you more strawberries if he’d any kind of business sense whatsoever. He turned on you with a look that meant you were clearly about to be dragged into a conversation you were entirely unprepared for. “It was one of yours, apparently!”

“One of my what?” you blinked back into focus.

“One of your regulars,” he said, like a secret.

“That strange Bounty Hunter came through again,” his coconspirator hissed, with a hand lifted as if she meant to cover her mouth. “He dropped off the body the other day—delivered the heart straight to the Felmier’s porch!”

“Who was it?” you asked, just like you knew they wanted you to.

“Sir Hamlen,” the butcher’s wife said. “You know, that awful toad who could eat you out of house and home.”

That sounded like all of your costumers, and more than half of your closest friends, but you gave yourself a moment to sort through your scattered thoughts and try and connect whatever dots they’d been throwing at you.

“Sir Hamlen…?” you said after a moment, slowly putting a face to the name. “With the terrible goatee?”

They both nodded enthusiastically.

“Rotten pig,” the butcher’s wife piped back in. “Served him right, if you ask me. Everyone was expecting the Crown would put him to death anyways.”

You shrugged again. You hardly knew the man, but he’d always paid you well enough that you didn’t really have any ill will towards him. You went back to fussing over balancing bags of berries, but then… Well, there was something a bit funny, actually. He’d been a loud sort of person, with no filter to speak of. One afternoon, he’d stumbled into your little shop absolutely pissed on cheap drink and all but burping bubbles.

‘You know,’ he’d lulled, dropping a full coin pouch on your countertop. Which you’d taken in its entirely with zero hesitation. ‘I’d die happy if my last meal was these fucking tarts of yours.’

‘Is that so,’ you’d drawled, in the bland way you answered literally every customer who spouted off whatever nonsense was kicking around in their heads.

‘Aye,’ he’d sighed, practically stooped over. ‘Gonna have to pry ‘em outta my cold, dead, hands.’

“Huh,” you muttered, thoughts wandering back to a pair of bloody gloves and the little treat you’d pressed into them. Huh.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Rook Hunt x Reader #Rook x Reader #Rook Hunt x Yuu #Reaper!Rook #Monster Mayhem #Fantasy AU #Rook Hunt #Deuce Spade #My Writing #Monster Mayhem Rook Part 1

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robo-milky · 26 days

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OC x Canon Week Day 6: An Intimate Moment

A lap cat, a novelty, that’s all Cloche could ever be to him. Does she mind? No, not really. This was probably the closest she could ever get— Rook is a private individual after all.

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drdepper · 1 year

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PomPom pretty bois go ✨⋆｡°✩✨‧₊˚✩彡

#pomefiore #female yuu #yuu au #twisted oc #twisted wonderland #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt x reader #vil schoenheit x yuu #twisted wonderland pomefiore #no thoughts just pwetty #vil schoenheit x reader #pomefiore x reader #yuu #twst yuu

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schoenht · 8 months

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EVENT ERA?!!!

Could I please have “they’re busy” with Vil Schoenheit 😘😘👑😘👑😘👑😘👑 and Rook Hunt

- 🦋 Anon

↝ "they're busy"

character: rook hunt

note: EVENT ERA WHATS GOODDDDDD i just did vil's in the previous post <3 so im only doing rook!!! I hope you enjoy!! I actually had fun with him omg im pleasantly surprised

EVENT IS CLOSED!

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst smau #twisted wonderland smau #rook x reader #rook x y/n #rook x mc #rook x yuu #rook x you #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt x y/n #rook hunt x mc #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt x you

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valeriele3 · 11 days

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Hiii, I saw your post about reopening requests and I was wondering if you could do Rook Hunt x Reader when the reader gets sick? (Like maybe from the flu or a cold but nothing life threatening)

Rook Hunt x GN!Reader

I apologize for the massive ooc T-T I don't know how Rook speaks

"Trickster, you need to rest."

"I refuse."

"This isn't a matter you can refuse. You're ill; you need absolute rest."

"But I'm perfectly fine, Rook! See, I can move around like normal." You move your arms around as if to show that you're functioning like normal.

"Non!" he says sternly.

And.. now you're here.

Stuck in bed.

Missing your classes

All because that damn hunter kidnapped you and locked you in here.

"Make sure to drink your medicine, drink a lot of water, and most importantly, rest. I'll come back to check on you when time allows me to."

Normally, you wouldn't mind missing a day or two

since you could always ask your friends for notes and the lessons weren't that hard. You could always easily catch up.

But here, in Twisted Wonderland, you couldn't afford to even miss a single class.

Sure, some classes are fundamentally the same as the ones in your world, but at the same time, they are so different.

Your friends who're in the same class as you aren't much help either.

Sure, you can probably ask someone else for help, like Riddle, for example; he'll do an excellent job at making sure you're caught up with everything, but he's strict. Way too strict for your liking.

You're practically stuck in your own "home" until a certain 3rd year student who likes stalking people comes to "free" you.

All you can do for now is wait..

"Have you drank your medicine?"

"Yes"

"Water?"

"Yes"

"Rest?"

"..Yes..?"

He looks at you in disapproval.

"And here I thought I told you to rest properly."

"But I did! I even took a nap!"

"And how long exactly?"

"Ten minutes!"

He sighs, "C'mere." Reluctantly, you went closer to the man.

He places his hand on your forehead, checking your temperature.

"Oh my, you're burning up! Come, lay down." Hurriedly, he forces you to your bed to lay down.

"Stay there"

"I'll make some soup for you."

While waiting, you can gradually smell the soup coming together.

You can feel yourself drifting to sleep.

The stress and tiredness that have been accumulating seem to have finally hit you.

By the time his footsteps were within hearing distance, you were already in a deep sleep.

Creak

Step

The footsteps halt. He looks down at you and places the tray carrying your food and medicine on the bedside table.

Slowly, cautiously, as if afraid any kind of movement or sound might wake you

He leans down and presses a chaste kiss on your forehead.

'Sleep tight, Mon Ange. I'll be here the whole time you need me.

By the time you woke up, it was already the next day.

Your fever is now long gone.

It amazes you how quickly it went away. It just took one day. It makes you wonder what the people here put in their medicine for it to work so effectively.

Hearing a noise from below, you get up from your bed.

Slowly, you go down the stairs, making sure that the wood doesn't creak as you do so.

You grab your trusty broom and head towards the source of the noise: the kitchen.

You prepare to hit the intruder when suddenly your broom is knocked out of your hands and you are put in a headlock.

"Oh?"

'ROOK!?' You scream internally.

Rook immediately lets go and apologizes. "I sincerely apologize; my body had reacted before I could even think."

"It's..Cough..Alright, cough what're you even doing here anyway?"

"Hm? Do you not remember? I came by yesterday to take care of you."

You try to recall the events that transpired yesterday.

Albeit it's a bit blurry, you now do remember Rook coming by.

"Ah, right, right, you did."

"I'm surprised you haven't left yet, Rook."

"How could I simply leave behind someone who is obviously not in their perfect state?" he says, a bit overdramatically.

Pausing on his words as if remembering something, he says

"Ah, the food. Go sit down; it's almost finished cooking."

As the first light of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains, the cozy breakfast nook was bathed in a warm, golden glow.

Just you, him, and the light that passes through the window, casting a warm and comforting atmosphere

The scene is serene.

You don't know what it is, but, for some reason, you don't want this to end.

You wish to stay in this serenity a bit longer, hoping that time will pause for even a second more to enjoy the scene you have before you.

.ೃ࿐Reblogs are highly appreciated! ^^

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mrsrookhunt · 8 months

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Rook, a bad joke!

Yuu: You've Rooked up.

Rook: ...Excuse-moi?

Yuu: I can't Rook the other way any longer.

Rook: Mon Tricksteur--

Yuu: I'll have to ta--

Rook: Tricksteur...

Yuu: I'll have to take my ROOKVENGE--

Rook: Stop--

Yuu: SO ROOK THE OTHER WAY--

Rook: NON, TRICKSTEUR, STOP IT!!

-An Excerpt from 'How to Annoy a Rook'.

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luxthestrange · 7 months

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TWST Incorrect quotes#616 The Middle

Rook*Humming happily*We all heard of Top-

Vil*Is painting his nails and raises a brow at him*??

Rook: Or Bottom-

Yuu*Next to Vil seeing a cat fashion magazine*??

Rook: But what about the middle?~

Rook*Plomps himself between the two of you and hugs you both*Bonjour~I can't breathe but you two seem REALLY beau~

#disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twst #twst yuu #twst pomefiore #pomefiore x reader #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt x yuu #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit x yuu #twst fluff #twst smut #twst incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes

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minimallyminnie · 9 months

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no idea what brought this to my head but

"Do you think I would be a cute crab?"

with Ace, Floyd, Jamil, Rook, and Lilia

Cutie Crabby?

Not exactly a fic style

Ace is a crab, so I better not hear complaints from his ass >:(

Summary: “Do you think I’d be a cute crab?”

Ace Trappola

“Mmm, nah.”

You will absolutely give him a silent treatment until he apologizes (which is the next day when he’s begging for your forgiveness on his knees)

Floyd Leech

“Aw my shrimpy would be the most amazing crabby! Even more than crabby himself! You’d look so cute even with the sharpest claws…”

He’s a simp. He’d end up making a crab transformation potion just for you and would hug you despite how sharp you are.

Jamil Viper

“….Are you trying to say you want to be in the Octavinelle dorm or something…? If so, you’re absolutely crazy.”

Very confused, but he understands once you tell him why you ask him. In the end his answer is still a no and an added you’re crazy…but you’re cute as you are now. No need to change.

Rook Hunt

“Mon amor! If you were a very crabe pointu, you’d be the most beautiful one in the sea!”

Second place for most supportive behind Floyd. He’s not against drawing you as a crab. Would love to put a picture of you as a crab on the wall! But he reminds you that you are beautiful no matter what!

Lilia Vanrouge

“Hahaha! A crab? Out of anything in the sea? Why you’d probably be the best crab out of this world! You’d be the cutest and every crab would be so jealous!”

The fae would love to see if he can recreate the crab with a knife video with you. He’d take you everywhere. Even to vice housewarden meetings! That is if you ever turned into one somehow..

I know it wasn’t in the request but I had some thoughts abt this one… skip if you don’t wanna see my own oc!!!

Fuyuki Amamiya

“A…crab? You’d be cute. Haha, I’d love your little claws and beady eyes. But, I don’t think I’d like to be reminded of Mr. Krabs every time I see you…”

Don’t blame him, he had to speed run every cartoon when he was 15 so the imprint of Mr. Krabs is fresh. He’d bring you everywhere, even if Grim protests!

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ameleii · 5 months

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sunday hauntings || rook hunt

there's a church in fleur city that's been abandoned for several decades, now used as a tourist attraction. despite what the townspeople think, rook decides to investigate.

a/n: @twistedchatterbox i'm so sorry TT^TT accept it super super late sobbing

word count: 646 words

"listen to me, mon petit fleur. we could go there, explore, and be out before the sun sets! there is little to worry about if i am by your side!" rook exclaims dramatically on your lap as your hands card through his hair gently. "we could even go to the old church a distance away from noble bell college, non?"

"i heard the residents don't really like it when tourists try to explore that place beyond what they allow," you start, pausing your ministrations on rook's hair. "i'd rather not earn their ire, y'know?"

"ah, mon coeur! tu es belle quand tu t'inquiètes pour moi! but do not worry. we shall in and out as quickly as we can! i shall go in and explore while you distract them!"

"rook, you have got to stop looking like an excited puppy when you decide to commit crimes."

"does that mean you agree, mon fleur?"

standing outside the church a few hours later as the sun sets, you have never more regretted loving rook, your lover hopping swiftly from brick to brick onto the roof of the church, hidden from the view of the church caretakers and other tourists (including ruggie, jamil, and azul, who you were with today).

"shall we, [name]?" azul questions behind you as you turn and nod, and you only send a quick prayer-of-sorts to the seven (?), pitying anyone who would come across your boyfriend. you swear you can hear his chuckles echo in the passageways up above and the catacombs down below, which also makes you wonder whether he also has the ability to "split card" like cater does.

the church was large and sparsely decorated, and rook's weird-as-fuck chuckles echoing around didn't help the mood, with many of the sisters and priests from the other churches leaving as soon as they could. "what's the big deal?" ruggie yawns as a sister stares at him aghast.

"what's the big deal?" she says, approaching the group fearfully. "this church was where... where the city was first established. rumours are that this church was built on top of an ancient cemetery, and...." she gulps fearfully, "and the noises from down below are a sign. a sign of danger, prophesied more than 700 years ago."

"wow," azul blinks. "that's... mildly terrifying."

"mildly?!?!" jamil shrieks as you cover your ears. "how are you so calm right now? there's something in the damn catacombs!!"

"indeed," the sister agrees. "i was asked to usher you all out so we may conduct an investigation at a later date."

"later date, my ass, and i mean that respectfully, 'course, sister," ruggie huffs, "but i came to be spooked, and since we're mages, why don't to let us get in and chuck that creature out?"

"could be a bear, bucchi."

"a bear's milder than leona, that's for sure. have you seen the guy been pissed off?"

"how is leona worse than an animal than can LITERALLY MAUL US TO DEATH?"

"CAUSE LEONA CAN MAUL US TO DEATH TOO?????"

as an argument over whether to leave or stay started up front, you heard a quiet bonsoir from under your feet, mouth gaping as rook climbed his way out of the catacombs. "mon coeur, tu m'as manqué! the catacombs are wonderful, and- where are all the people?"

"evacuated over your hehehehehehehs in the catacombs!" you hiss, pulling him to your level. "the sister in front of us is scared shitless! apologise!!"

"oui, oui, bien sûr!"

nodding at you lover, you make your way to the front of the group. "um," you start, shuffling from the back of the crowd, dragging a messy rook (how did you not notice that before?) with you. "he's the culprit of the catacombs. he likes exploring weird places. he's very sorry, i promise."

"rook?!!?!?!?!" the others exclaim as the sister faints.

"great, ya killed the fuckin' sister, rook."

translations:

mon petit fleur - my little flower non - no ah, mon coeur! tu es belle quand tu t'inquiètes pour moi! - ah, my heart! you are beautiful when you worry for me! tu m'as manqué - i have missed you oui, oui, bien sûr - yes, yes, of course

#Spooky Chattering 2023 #i'm sorry; this is so late ;-;#like deadass a month late #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #twst rook #rook twst #rook hunt x yuu #rook x reader #rook hunt x mc #rook x yuu

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naompspsps · 3 days

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How they would act when you fall asleep on their shoulder Pt. 7

Part 6 (Ortho, Deuce, Jade)

Summary: You had a long morning, and you didn't even get enough sleep so now you are very tired, But sitting with them in the courtyard during lunch break, while they talk you find yourself falling asleep, your head on their shoulder.

Ft. Ruggie, Rook & Jack x GN!Reader [Seperate]

A/n: What happens if you fall off the well in the courtyard?? Just a question im genuinely concerned.

Rook being rook; calling you french names, Jack being his normal tsundere self, You teasing the ghosts out of Ruggie, Softruggiesoftruggiesoftruggie SOFT RUGGIE. Fluff<33

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

Ruggie

He'd be soft, surpriseee! Ruggie's that type to soften everytime he speaks to you or if you even have eye contact with him. He can be sly, but with you around? You and your bold flirting? Dear me, He's on the ground. Either dead or on his knees like he's the man kneeling in the supremacy meme.

So if you just sleep on his shoulder, The only thing he can do is blush too hard that he has to look away. He also cares about your health, Like.. It's a really hot day in NRC, why are you sleeping while wearing your blazer?? Even he removed his blazer so how are you still surviving the heat? But as I said, You and your bold flirting would tease him alot.

"The teacher did nothing about it-" He laughs, then he suddenly stops to look at you. Oh wonderland, You usually laugh along but today you aren't. "[Name]??" He worriedly calls out. You can hear the pure concern in his voice. You doze off, about to fall forward until his reflexes kick in and catch you. One hand grasping the back of your blazer and his other forearm infront, near your shoulders "Woah, Hey now, What's goin' on with you?" He asks, gently pulling you back. You open your eyes, rubbing them and yawning. "Huh?.." You mumble quietly. "Whaddya mean 'huh'?! You almost fell forward!" Ruggie removes his hand off your blazer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

"Sorry.. I just-.. Got a bit sleepy.." You yawn once again. You fix your position, laying your head on his shoulder, your hand taking Ruggie's sneakily. "Hey- What're you-" You quickly hush him. "Quiet, hun, I'm trying to sleep." His ears twitch slightly. "Hun?.." He repeats quietly, His tail wagging as he blushes. "Hey- [Name].. Maybe you should uh.. Take off your blazer? It's burnin' hot in here, Don't want cha to sweat in your sleep.." He whispers, You chuckle as your eyes kept shut. "Aw, You care about me, How sweet, But I'm alright darling, Don't worry so much." He looks away. "Forget it, Just go to sleep!" You let out a laugh. "Alright alright."

Rook

This bob-cut secretly sport french simp for not only you but the housewarden of his own dorm? He would be too happy. Start calling you french names, give your head a lil' rub, and hold your hand, his thumb tracing circles it.

His first reaction would be surprise, but then get simp mode on, and then finally back to his flamboyant personality. Like the prefect, that everyone probably has a crush on, the prettiest person alive, Is sleeping on me. Suck on that losers!

You can feel Rook's gaze on you, but you can even care less. You yawn, flipping through the pages of your book. Trying to read it, but fail. The words are so blurry.. You let out a tired sigh, closing the book and putting it aside, As you rest your head on Rook's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Just too tired.. Need something to sleep on." You softly mumble out, Rook is surprised, but that surprise turned to total realization along with blush.

"Oh no, It's most definitely alright Amour!" Rook enthusiastically replies, you let out a soft chuckle before resting, Feeling his hand on your head, rubbing it. Then he takes it off, and holds your hand, his grip is strong.. He rubs circles on your hand with his thumb, Helping you sooth to sleep. You can hear him mumbling love names in french, you've heard these words before. "Sweet dreams, Miel." Honey? Now where did that come from? You ask yourself. But you shrug it off and relax.

Jack

I smell tsundere. He'd be a tsundere about it. Based on how he really acts in the game, he's a tsundere that doesn't know how to hide it and makes the worst excuses possible. Sometimes it's good but his stutters ruin the whole excuse.

You would find the best teases possible, and it makes his tail wag, he literally does not want you to see him soften at you. But you know he's just a soft lil wolf. If you can, You would squeeze him. Be Floyd rn,

You could tell Jack was worried about you, you could just see it in his eyes. He doesn't want to ask, but who else is there to notice how you've been dropping your head and desks without flinching to a single fling of pain? Could be everyone but they just don't care, yet he does. The so called 'big bad wolf' cares about you more than any ordinary kind people but tries to be discreet with it. You write in your notebook, the writings very much bad due to your vision and mind unable to work together. You know what? To help it, You close your notebook shut with the pen still inside the notebook, and put it aside.

Your head swiftly collapses on Jack's shoulder, In which, He already looks at you. "What are you doing?" You yawn softly, your eyes automatically closing. "Just resting, You're soft.." You whisper. "A- Hey. I'm not soft." Jack crosses his arms. "I mean it in both ways. You're soft and physically soft. I can snuggle with you all day." You laugh tiredly. Jack only looks away. "I'm not soft in 'both' ways." He mumbles with a scoff. "Aw, Don't give me that attitude." You whisper, hugging his arm and finally falling asleep. That was.. Quick. Jack didn't expect you to immediately sleep. Guess you really are just tired. "Whatever." He puts his arm around you, keeping you more comfortable.

Author's end note: The savanaclaw boys are gonna kill me anytime now and it's not with a knife. WORDS. 🔥🔥 Ruggie, It's almost your birthday and i managed to save up only one 10 pull for you 😭 I mean if i include the free 10 pull for when its ur birthday then 20 pulls 😭😭

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #gn reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi x yuu #rook hunt #twst rook #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt x yuu #jack howl #twst jack #jack howl x reader #jack howl x yuu

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calcifiedunderland · 8 months

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Wishing Wells & a Hunter’s Box

or, Encounters of a Disney-Aware Prefect, ft. Rook Hunt

Part 1, Part 2 (here), Part 3, Part 4

GN reader, uses they/them pronouns!

Warnings: None

Please enjoy~

—————

Damn, Crewel’s class is gonna end me.

You were slouched against the well in the courtyard. Despite the blue birds and doves singing sweetly from the apple trees and squirrels scurrying from branch to branch, you were in a foul mood. You stared at the papers in your hand, waiting for Rook to come help you after Crewel set up a tutoring session for you (against your will-)

Your latest lab report from Alchemy was pockmarked with red marks, all made by none other than Divus Crewel. As if that wasn’t grim enough, he’d even pulled you aside after class a few days ago.

“Prefect, I understand that since you hail from another world, you may find it more… difficult to understand these concepts,” you’d grimaced and tried to hold his gaze. His eyes were steely, but he didn’t seem disappointed per se. Concerned? “You’ve done well enough thus far, but I’d like for you to have some extra help. To… level the playing field, as Vargas would say.”

Crewel was taking pity on you? The Crewel, who assigned Epel a basically impossible task to grow some magical plant? The same Crewel who would’ve skinned Ace alive over spilling a single drop of ingredient? The Crewel who ran Science Club with an iron fist? That Crewel???

“Teacher’s pet,” Ace quipped as he stuffed food in his mouth when you told everyone during lunch. “Literally. He’s nicer to you, anyway. And he calls you his lil’ pup,” he grinned, snarky.

“Yeah, I’d rather not be babied by Crewel,” you retorted. Jack and Deuce seemed pensive about it. “If Crewel’s giving you pointers, maybe that’s a good thing,” Jack pointed out. “You’re not on his bad side at least.” Deuce nodded, trying to cheer you up. “He knows you’re at least trying.”

Grim swiped at your plate, then asked with his mouth full, “So what’d he want anyway? Y’gotta do retaliation too? Ya won’t stay my henchman if y’can’t pass alchemy!”

“Grim, you have to do remediation, and no I don’t. He actually asked the Science Club if anyone would be interested, and he said Rook would help.”

“Seriously? That guy?” Ace spluttered. Deuce looked concerned, “you sure you’ll be safe with him? I mean, if you help, we could ask Housewarden Rosehearts or Trey for help.” “Or Leona,” Jack chimed in.

You were touched by your friends concern. “I’ll be fine guys, Rook may be a little… odd, but he hasn’t been that bad. It’ll be fine.”

So now, it was late afternoon. You’d been waiting forever for the blond to finish in Science Club, you were lowkey hungry and highkey stressed, and you would really like a nap. It seemed fine then, but now you were getting impatient and your paper seemed to be taunting you. Frustrated, you sprang up and turned to the well.

“Aaaaaaauuhgghh!” You screamed into it, then immediately winced when it echoed back AAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGHHHHH at you. Wells didn’t like being yelled at.

You huffed, and your thoughts wandered back to your weekend trip with Vil.

He’d taken you out to ‘teach you about film-making’, and while it was nice, it was a little daunting to see not only him, but his father, in their natural element. Not to mention, afterwards he’d taken you shopping in places where the price tags had too many zeroes to comprehend.

But before that, you somehow made the Dark Mirror speak to you, all from a little line from a dream. A movie?

Maybe it was more than a dream. Maybe it was a hazy memory from your life before Night Raven College, and even though you arrived only a few months ago, why was it so hard to remember? Either way, you remembered the Fairest Queen speaking to the Mirror, and…

A girl singing to the well?

You kicked yourself up, abandoning your lab report on the grass. You leaned over the well, seeing your wiggling reflection in the water. Above your head, a little bluebird and dove swooped and perched at the bar with the water pail, chirping sweetly. Your mind flashed to your dream, where the girl in a ragged dress sang sweetly into the well.

‘I’m wishing!’ I’m wishing!, came the echo.

‘For the one I love!’

‘To find me!’ To find me!

‘Today!’ Today!

You hummed it to yourself, glancing around warily for anyone who was passing by. There wouldn’t be anyone nearby anytime soon, since club time didn’t end for a small while.

Still, you felt a little silly for wanting to sing into a goddamn well. But when you thought about flopping back on the ground, your mind went back to the Dark Mirror responding to your mindless question.

If the Dark Mirror, which supposedly only obeyed the Headmaster of NRC, responded to you, surely something could happen at this well, right? After all, both had been here since the school’s founding.

“I-“ you coughed as your voice cracked, and cleared your throat self-consciously. You tried again,

“I’m wishing,” the echo came back, I’m wishing.

“…for the… one I love.” One I love.

“To… find me,” To find me.

You felt more comfortable now, “Today!”

“TODAY!”

You shrieked and fell on the grass as none other than Rook fucking Hunt bounded up to you with a grin, ignoring your utter embarrassment as he loomed over like a hunter crowding his prey, blocking out the sun ominously. You scrambled back a bit and got to your feet.

“Rook,” you seethed, still embarrassed. “Why?”

“Ah, mon cher tricksteur!” He sighed happily, the feather in his hat fluttering. “I hadn’t known you were a secret romantic! Singing to a well, quelle suprise! La romance, la mystique, la beauté-“

“Alright Rook, that’s enough-“ you tried, but he just carried on. “Why, it makes me want to sing with you!”

Rook promptly burst into song, one hand on his chest and the other flailing around as he spun. He’d at least changed into his regular school uniform, otherwise strange liquids from his club outfit would’ve been flying everywhere, and then you’d have another issue on your hands.

“ROOK!” You screamed exasperated. He stopped and grinned mischievously. “Je suis desolé, I seem to have gotten carried away. Ah, but look at the time! We must prepare you, or Professor Crewel will have both of our hides!”

He spun on his heel, an easy smile on his face, and offered his arm to you. “Shall we, mon cher (y/n)?” His sharp green eyes seemed to soften ever so slightly at you. You nodded slowly and took his arm, and allowed him to steer you away to wherever he was going.

Even though nothing happened (except Rook nearly giving you a heart attack), your mind wandered to the girl in your memory-dream. After she sang that part, she wasn’t alone. She’d sung a duet with… a man?

You glanced at Rook, regarding the feather in his hat bob up and down cheerfully. You smiled despite yourself. A man with a feathered hat.

Rook had taken you to the Pomefiore common room and, despite your friends’ fears, was quite helpful and very meticulous. The hours passed, and when you both were finished going over every procedure, ingredient, applicable magic law, and anything else that Crewel could throw at you, the room became flooded with a soft haze from the setting sun.

You leaned back on the lavish purple couch as Rook perused his own notes. You quietly looked around the common room.

It was much different than Ramshackle’s dusty living room. The room just oozed with luxury and royalty. Truly fit for the Fairest Queen indeed.

Your gaze shifted to a large display case. Sometime ago, when Vil was in his tyrant rampage during VDC, he’d dragged you through Pomefiore and given you a grand tour (against your will, which happened alarmingly often) of the dorm, including the precious objects within said case. You stood and walked to it, leaving Rook to his own work.

The display case held a few objects. The crown Vil wore with his dorm uniform (only taken out when he needed it, apparently passed down to all dorm leaders of Pomefiore). A beautiful dagger with a heart (owned by the Queen’s most trusted huntsman), and-

You frowned, mind becoming fuzzy. An ornate box with a knife through the heart, beautiful and golden-

‘The blundering fool!’

You shook your head and blinked a few times. You stared at the box, brow furrowed.

A dark-haired man with a feather in his cap accepted the box with shaking hands. You couldn’t hear what the regal woman in black said to him, but he didn’t seem to like it. Then suddenly, he was in the forest with the girl in the yellow and blue dress, and raising his dagger to her turned back and-

“I see you’ve found the dorm treasures!”

You jumped, spinning around to Rook smiling innocently down at you, knowing exactly what he did. He’d snuck up so quietly to you, or you were so deep in thought, that you didn’t even hear him. You clutched your chest, breathing quickly.

Forget a defibrillator, Rook could easily restart your heart with his constant jumpscares.

“These two are relics of the Fairest Queen, many years ago,” he began, speaking softer when he saw how startled you were, eyes regarding yours gently. “They are treasures that are a testament to her tenacity and perseverance.”

You were calmer now, and you glanced back at the cabinet. “The dagger…” you turned to him, “Did the hunter use it?” You asked naively, swallowing thickly at what you hoped didn’t happen.

Rook chuckled, but noted how you seemed shaken by your question. He said gently, “Of course mon cher, he was a hunter like moi. He used his dagger as needed.” He gestured to the ornate box, “legend has it that he even brought the heart of a deer to the Fairest Queen upon request.”

A deer. You sighed in relief. Of course he wouldn’t kill the girl. Of course. Who’d want to hurt her?

As you and Rook ruminated by the relics, the sun sank and students entered the dorm, chattering amongst themselves. Vil walked in, and noticed you two.

“Hello Rook, prefect. I trust you two were able to go over the alchemy topics? Crewel said you needed some help,” Vil looked at you, expression unreadable. “He asked me if I could help, but I’d already scheduled a photoshoot beforehand. I do wish I could’ve been there, though.”

“Quelle sympathie mon roi!” Rook started, hand on his chest. “Such benevolence and dutifulness truly befits that of the Queen herself! With your skill in potions and poisons alike, the prefect would pass Crewel’s class with flying colors under your tutelage!”

You laughed to yourself as Vil smiled, shaking his head at Rook’s antics. “I’ll head back to Ramshackle then, thanks for everything Rook,” you smiled at the hunter. You turned to collect your things from the table, and after bidding the pair goodbye and goodnight, you trekked back to Ramshackle with Rook who insisted on walking you back.

As you walked, Rook regaled you with tales of the Queen and her Huntsman, and at some point began reciting poetry after becoming so impassioned. You waited patiently, and as you neared the dorm he sighed. “One day, I wish to become as great a huntsman as he!” Rook closed his eyes, taking off his hat and clutching it to his chest.

You gave a small laugh, but your thoughts turned to your dream from earlier. “Something tells me you’re practically him already.”

———

Ok so ik that the wishing part should technically be Neige’s/Prince Florian’s part

but then I remembered that Florian had a hat with a feather in it and so does rook

And then I connected the dots and made this.

Also theater kid rook needs some time to shine too tbh and he canonically bursts into song according to Trey! What a guy lmao

Anyway thanks for reading this far, Epel’s part isn’t too far away! <3 thank you all for the support!!

#twisted wonderland #rook hunt #twst rook #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt x mc #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst rook hunt #twst yuu #pomefiore #pomefiore x reader #calcified writing

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