・❥ life is beating my ass, have this spur of the moment slop, tw for cringe and spelling mistakes.
Your first kiss with your now husband was sweet- not bold, not breath taking, just sweet. It was just right, you find yourself thinking back to it fondly.
His breath warm against your skin, if you hadn't been so laser focused, you would've missed the slight quiver of his lips, he was nervous.
His nose brushing yours for just a second as he finally went in for the kill. Your heart nearly exploded as your lips touched, he was warm. His hands didn't linger, didn't explore nor cling to you. Instead his fingers found yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a memorised pattern.
The kiss was almost devastatingly chaste, the gesture laced with nothing but timid affection, tasting this newfound feeling and finding comfort in it. No further want or desire behind it, just a shared tenderness.
The moment, the fuzzy feeling in your chest, the raw vulnerability. It was all so warm. He didn't deepen the kiss, didn't move, his lips just against yours. Soaking in your affection for a few more seconds than necessary, he pulled back just enough to take in your features.
You held his gaze for a moment, sharing a look of longing for a moment before you leaned in to close the distance. Pressing your forehead against his, slowly beginning to nuzzle your noses together.
You didn't kiss him again in that moment, you didn't need to. That moment sealed the deal, you knew there were many more to come.
Hi! I'm a biiiiiig fan of yours, and I was wondering if I could request something :3 p-please?
Maybe say....a day in a life with a husband Rook, kids, and reader? >_<
Especially if he's a househusband!! Ah! Cute!
I-I totally made this in my free time... ^o^
Husband! Rook Hunt HCs
Supplementary information: Rook is in his mid-thirties to fit the timeline.
An average day starts off with a nice breakfast in bed. On weekdays, your kitchen staff brings it to you two; on weekends, Rook gets up early to cook the food himself. He insists that it’s the least he can do for you as your loyal husband, and the waffles do always taste sweeter when they’re made by Rook’s hands.
After your early breakfast, you both get ready to face the day, pulling on your respective outfits for work and meetings, both recalling how different life was when you would get up and dress for school and clubs, the simplicities of young adulthood always having their familiar call when one remembered how not-long-ago that was.
It's hardly a second later before your kids come running into the bedroom, hastily dressed and smelling like like laundry detergent from their pillow fort the night before.
Your kids are everything you imagined- creative, gentle souls with a spark in their eyes & abounding energy. They remind you so much of Rook- even the ones that look so much like you possess his energetic, enigmatic spirit.
And- there's five of them, which is fairly enough, a whole lot to keep up with. You feel blessed that Rook's family is always there to help, knowing just how much of a village it takes to raise a large, happy family.
You have so many nieces and nephews on Rook's side, it's hard to keep up. Family parties often result in entire gaggles of kids huddled around games and cakes devoured in seconds, before the adults ever have the chance to acquire a single slice.
Your daily life is pretty smooth after you get the kids off to their schools- 3 of them are mages, and three of them are not (or possibly late bloomers, who knows?), so you find yourself driving to 4 different schools to accommodate everyone's unique needs. 2 magical grade school academies, 1 for two of your children and another for your last little mage, who insisted on going to school with her pre-k best friend; then a different school for each of your non-magical children, who both go to magnet schools for their creative and technological talents, respectively.
Once you get home, the house is empty- Rook off in a meeting for another 2 hours, most of the house help off for a deserved paid vacation.
It gives you time to relax. Between both Rook and the kids, there is no shortage of high energy in the home. This is your chance to take a well-deserved breather. Indulge in hobbies, catch up on some sleep, or hang out with friends.
After Rook comes home, you enjoy some alone time with him for an hour before the kids come home, sometimes going for little ice-cream dates and sometimes just cuddling on the couch. You're immensely thankful for this hour, since getting any alone time with 5 kids is both a blessing and a miracle.
Once the kids come home, its a whirlwind rush between dinner, 5 bathtimes, homework, and bedtime stories.
But the end of the night always stays the same. Getting tucked in by Rook with a gentle kiss to the forehead as you drift off to sleep to face the next whirlwind big family day.
Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons
Characters: Everyone :)
Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore(Here!), Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case.
Note: May have overdone it. Also, I'm a bit rough with my french. It's been 2 years, go easy on me.
There is a word for this young man. A term that has always been a one-way thing in his past. A noun that he has experience being the target of, and not the one it is describing.
Whipped. Oh, dear heavens, Vil is whipped for you. The thought both entices him and sends a shiver of distaste down his spine. Why? Because, my dove, in recognizing that he is whipped he is also acknowledging that he is dependent. Reliant. No longer the boss a** queen who needs nobody other than himself. The man the world knows him to be but this schoolboy crush has progressed to borderline infatuation.
Let us do a little synopsis of this downfall. A summary, if you will. An exploration of this Schoenheit's thought process as his prospective future melded from being Twisted Wonderland's resident supernova, to a domestic fantasy that would make his past self vomit.
It all began with a little birdy falling into a nest of snakes. Lost, alone, scared, weak - they slowly melted the hearts of everyone they came in contact with. Vil watched from the sidelines in interest. Not enough to investigate because *why* would he place his time in the hands of prey. It would be an utter waste.
Albeit so...Vil recognizes potential when he sees it. Not unlike himself, they took the hand they were dealt and carved a path to the top. He could respect that ... until there was a collision that threatened his own plans. Suddenly their oddities were no longer amusing and instead a hindrance. Like rain. Nice at the start, but the muddy aftermath never pleases.
And muddy his life became indeed. He became the villain he always disliked. Wretched and old. Completed his self-fulfilling prophecy...and somehow lost it all, yet gained something new in such a short span of time. He was no hero in the story, had no life-changing epiphany, yet somehow it felt different. For a brief moment, he was the fairest of them all to that little birdy. Despite his venom and scales, he was the fairest.
It dawns him that they both are not as alike as he once thought. He was playing a game of chess against someone playing checkers.
The oddity turned hindrance now became an object of interest. He started to watch them again and to approach as well. He wanted to bloom the potential he saw in them. Letting it go to waste would be neglectful on his part, so he would shelter them during their time in this den.
Or so he told himself.
While they could never make it to his level...the little birdy was morphing into a beautiful dove right before his very eyes. All without his help or a need for change. He never felt so desperate to be needed by someone else.
The object of interest becomes an object of affection. He doesn't want to recommend new potions, fashion, workouts, skincare routines - he wants to do them with you. He wants to sit in a rosewater bath together and talk about the day. He wants to be chided for wearing a sleepmask, blocking your view of his eyes at night. He wants to go on a morning jog together and share breakfast. To have you on his arm as he walks the carpet at premiers - brighter than any other accessory his stylist could choose. He wants to kiss your pulse points and smell his perfume on your skin. He wants to share clothes and give the press something to gossip about. He wants to love this little birdy who has always been a dove.
And he gets this fantasy. He has it for years but there is always an underlying gnaw beneath his skin that it is going to end - which he is prepared for initially. He does not do anything half-effort and dating you is not taken lightly - but he is prepared until he does not want to be. Until the possibility of splitting up is unfathomable and he can't imagine not having all the little moments that now he has become so...
Reliant. Whipped.
He initially wants you to propose to him, and hints at it frequently. How glorious would he look dressed in white, no? Which do you like better, black forest cake or almond chip? Oh dear...these tulips would make such a lovely Boquete for a bride...
You are either too dense to understand his hints (unlikely, considering you have years of practice) or he needs to take initiative. Well, if it is a proposal you want then it is a proposal you will get.
He stages it under the guise that he needs a partner for a photoshoot. Specifically for a wedding magazine. You, thinking this is another one of his blatant hints, comply to his pleasure. He calls in a contact from one of the magazines he has modeled for before and asks if they would like an inclusive - never before seen- scoop. Aka. to photograph his proposal and feature it on their front cover. With his reputation, the offer is accepted readily and they agree to set up the shoot with whatever theme he wishes. He goes traditional - set in a gothic chapel that is decorated with red and purple floral adornments. The works for a proposal with a dark vintage twist.
That morning, he leaves before you to handle a separate modeling gig. With a kiss to your wrist, he is gone and off to make sure that everything is perfect for when you arrive later on. Photographers know him for his tenacity, but none have ever seen Vil so anal over small details. Every ribbon must be perfect, there must be both black AND white rose petals spread along the walkway. You must be photographed in rose-tinted lighting, so the camera should face towards the biggest piece of stained glass.
When you arrive, you are escorted to hair and makeup in a whirl. The scene is a blur and you're decked head to toe in white. Gothic lace as far as the eye can see...and when you are finally allowed to enter the chapel, Vil stands haloed by his arranged decorations - waiting for you to join him.
"Stunning, my dear. You look absolutely stunning. A sight I will have etched in my thoughts for many nights to come..." he takes your hand, and signals for the cameramen to get ready. They instruct you both to pose as a couple taking their vows. The camera clicks once, and then Vil gets down on one knee.
You think it's part of the act and that he is improvising. Well, until he pulls out a ring from his breast pocket. One that is a sharp contrast from the dark atmosphere and obviously not a prop.
"Alas, my patience runs dry. I can no longer wait for you..." he begins, and takes your hand in his. Another click echoes in the room, "with this ring, I make you mine. There will be no escape. No lies or uncertainties. I am already yours. I have been for many, many years. Will you finally join me in matrimony?"
{Black Opal. Staring into the gem puts any viewer in a trance. It sucks them in with bright swirls - hypnotizing. It is so beautiful with its intricate pattern, yet at a distance it appears solely black. We often narrow complex things down to one-note interpretations. Do with this information what you will}
Our man of mystery likes to keep things fresh. He loves the thrill of the chase. The anticipation. The adrenaline.
There is no better game of cat and mouse in life than romance. At every stage there are twists and turns that one can never predict. Each day brings new surprises and events! At least, that is what Rook believes a relationship should entail. No partnership should ever feel the lull of comfort...no-no. There must always be a little spice and sweetness around every corner to keep the relationship alive.
At your side, Rook does not doubt his beliefs for a second. You are like a magnet for attention and rightfully so. Out of all the people he finds interesting...you are the most tantalizing to observe. He finds himself following your every movement early on. Long before you began to enter his personal bubble, you were rare prey for the hunt. Otherworldly, full of secrets, attentive, attractive, enticing - he had his mark set so firm that he would have watched you even without Vil's order.
Nothing is missed under his fond scrutiny. Rook is the first to notice small things, like if you trimmed your hair or sewed new buttons on your blazer. He has your walking pace memorized to match when he is at your side. He knows your favorite meals in the dining hall, your habitual seat in the library, how to read your body language, what your favorite treats are and when you like to have them - his knowledge is so extensive that it's up to you if it is considered sweet or creepy. Rook's affections are often teetering the line with infatuation; however, he is not controlling or weird about it. He simply is a romantic who feels the need to know the ins and outs of the person he will give his heart to.
If that includes protecting you from ill-mannered heathens and appearing out of thin air to catch you if you trip? Well, best not question where he comes from. Just know that you have a second shadow. He will only become worse when his affections are returned. You may feel the need to set ground rules for how he can behave in public. Loud declarations of compliment and suggestive topics will not be reigned in otherwise. He is a lover and a fighter. Remember that.
There will come a day that Rook feels you are ready to marry him. Yes, specifically you. He was ready very early on, likely because pining for so long (while exciting) was a chase that gave him plenty of time to learn what he wants. Any time spent waiting was merely for your sake. Only when he notes your fondness towards the idea of marriage does he create a series of tests to ensure your desires. Things like leaving a wedding magazine on the counter to see your reaction, and taking you for a romantic boat ride that just so happens to be a hotspot for couples on their honeymoon. He also mentions the topic in his flirtations more often, to see if you'll respond in kind or shy away. He is a thorough man, if anything.
Oddly enough, he takes a reserved approach for proposing. He uses poetry, which is not unlike him considering how he loves to speak with flourishes. In his heart Rook would love to set up an elaborate event to propose. Something exciting, like a train mystery or a scavenger hunt. Yet some things do not need to be active to be thrilling. Marriage is a delicate act, so it is with a delicate hand that he pens a book of poetry over the course of nineteen days. On each day, he writes one poem to describe one reason he wants to marry you. The first letter in the title of each poem corresponds to a hidden message that you will have to decipher. He does not tell you either of these things.
He hands the book off to you with a cunning grin, and says that it is up to you to find the hidden meaning. If you can, then he will give you a 'special prize'. If you ask the occasion, he offers one of his closed-eye grins and claps his hands. 'Because why not?' He'll say, and it's enough to pacify because it is such a Rook way of thinking that you don't question it.
No matter how long it takes, he waits. He'll watch you analyze each poem and pout for an answer - one he refuses to give. It's all in the chase, after all. He can be patient. All good things come to those who wait.
One cold afternoon, he finds you curled up on the couch in your shared home. A blanket around your shoulders, a hot drink, and the book nestled in your lap. Nothing out of the usual...aside from the pen in your hand hovering over a notebook. Silent as a mouse, he hovers over your shoulder to take a peek and smirks at what has you so miffed.
"Ah...I take it you have words for me, mon coeur. Are they perhaps about a certain mystery?" You jump, and slam the notebook shut before turning around. His eyes crinkle in delight at the sight - his well waited prize. The flush of your cheeks suggest you solved the puzzle and the sweat on your brow shows that you know he knows.
Rook rounds about the couch in an instant and crouches on his knees in front of you. He takes your notebook, opens it, and displays the words 'Will You Marry Me?' for you. "Is this your answer? Are you confident?" You nod, avoiding his eyes and he grabs your chin to face him. With a hum of approval, he tips off his hat to pull out a wooden box. In the box is a ring, and he effortlessly slips it onto your finger without asking permission.
"Mon moitié...mon trésor. Je te chérirai. Je t'aimerai. Je ne te laisserai jamais partir. Avec cette bague, je suis à toi jusqu'à ce que la mort nous sépare…"
{A large pearl, nested between two emeralds, and a pure gold band. In Rook's eyes, the ring should compliment the wearer. It is the accent piece to your beauty. It should be comfortable, so you never have reason to remove it. In addition to this, it should also serve as a reminder that he is always looking for you. The pearl represents his untainted affection, and the two emeralds are his all-seeing eyes. He hopes this ring brings feelings of comfort and safety}
He is beauty, he is grace, he will punch you in the face - unless you're the object of his affections. Then you get a get out of jail free card. One use. Reinstated every time his heart skips a beat.
Our young lad is a bit of an unpredictable case when it comes to his emotions. Growing up in a small town like Harveston, there was no one his age to spend time with. NRC became his first exposure to people his age, and that made you his first love by default. He wasn't looking for it, didn't have any way to identify it, and frankly he disliked the emotions at first for various reasons. There is a lot to unpack here.
As everyone knows, Epel has a feminine appearance. The exact opposite of how he feels inside. The frilly clothes his dorm makes him wear do nothing to fix that - and now there is this tingling feeling in his chest that takes away his thought process? No. Just no. Not welcome at all. He needs his wits to make up for his unassuming appearance, and he ain't going to have some stranger twisting that about just because they're a bit attractive. Every apple tastes sweet until you try another kind - he says to himself.
He lets it fester for some time and actively avoids you. He sees the hurt in your eyes at his offput demeanor, but can't do much about it. It's your fault if you want to put yourself out there when everyone knows he's not the biggest talker.
Unfortunately...you stick around. Being in his academic year means that most of your classes align, and eventually your friend group does as well. There is no getting around you, and it doesn't take long for other people to connect the dots. Any chance at him getting a tougher reputation were ruined before they even began.
Eventually his resilience runs out and he gives in. Except now we have reason two - he has no chance with you. Zip. Nada. How Lovely.
Why the h*ll would ya go for this country bumpkin with the social skills of a rock? You'd be crazy to an' he ain't going to put himself out for heartbreak.
Now he's stuck humming love tunes and making carved apples of your face because he has years of pining built up with no outlet. It's pitiable, which makes him seethe because he can't do nothin' about it. Rook teased him once after finding Epel making yet another carving while laying in bed, and barely missed getting an apple to the head. The splattered remains of his fruit art on the wall spoke more than any threat could.
Point being, he is emotionally stunted and so he does not ever confess. Not until you do, that is. In that moment all class flew out of his body and he reverted to the socially challenged boy he was before enrolling at NRC. An extremely rare sight for anyone to see...he cringes thinking back on it. When you first said your feelings, he thought you were pulling a prank and got pissed. When he processed that you were serious, Epel lost control of himself and just blurted his thoughts out like a child.
Which is why his proposal is going to be different. It *has* to be different. This time, he'll be the one to ask you and he'll be prepared to avoid any mess ups. He refuses to be one-upped for such an important moment. This time you will be the flustered mess, and he will be the collected one.
To do this, he chooses to propose back in Harveston where he is most in his element. You'll both stay with his family on a weekend vacation in autumn, which meant there would be plenty of open land to arrange for something nice. Not to mention nice scenery from all the fallen leaves and orchards being in bloom. After a long talk with his family, he'd arrange to take you on a day tour of the land on horseback. Basically flaunt all of his farmboy knowledge for a confidence boost, and at the end of the night he'd light a campfire. With some warm cider, the noises of the night, and calm warmth of the hearth - he'd propose. It was almost perfect. *Almost*.
A simple ring feels too disconnected for Epel, and anything extravagant is too expensive considering the family farm's financial state. So, he decides to make it extra special by carving the ring box himself. Wood isn't that much different than apples...
On the first night he decides to work on some finishing touches after you've gone to sleep, and sits on the front porch to widdle away at the design. Like he does when carving apples, he hums a tune into the night as he focuses. Thoughts of the next day making him a bit louder and more excitable than usual - which, unfortunately wakes you up.
The front door opens and he pays it no heed, thinking it's one of his parents coming out for some fresh air. When you plop down next to him and look at the box - well, to say the earth shattered would be an understatement.
"Why aren't you sleepin'?!" His heart hammers and he tries to hide the box under one of his legs. The reaction being too late, since you already got a good look at it. You quirk an eyebrow at his haste, and a mischievous glint twists in your eye. Without warning, you fight him to see what's behind his back. 'What'cha got there Epel~ Why you so embarased huhu~' you tease and his ears flush a deep red.
"It's nothin'! Mind your own buisness"
'Well clearly it's something'
"I said it's not for you! Get your hands off me,"
'Oh? I thought you liked my hands on you~ It looked like a ring box though. Who're you giving a ring to, huh?'
"Dangit maybe you'd find out if ya stopped ruining your own surprises!"
In his last attempt to avoid your teasing, he tries to yank away but drops the box. It hits the porch with a thud and the lid pops open to show an engagement ring.
"...ah sh*t," he swears and hastily crouches to pick it up. You don't tear your eyes away from it, neither from the carvings or how your name is etched in perfect cursive on the lid. Still on his knee, Epel checks the ring for damage before noticing your shocked stupor. He looks at the box again, and signs through his nose before turning towards you.
"I had a whole day planned, y'hear me?! For once, I wanted ta be the one surprisin' you...but seein' how you're all tight lipped now, guess I did a good, huh? So? What'dya say? Will you marry me?"
{Crafted using the common hardwood from one of the many apple trees on the family farm. On the outside, there is a carving of a tree taking roots to symbolize the start of a new life. Definitely not because he was surrounded by trees while working on it, and decided to use them for inspiration. When the box is open, the top lid has your names carved along with the date. Well, the date of his *intended* proposal. That will need to be altered. Inside is a simple rose-gold band with small diamonds. Despite the ring's simplicity, he hopes his efforts to make you feel special are not in vain}
NOTE: Translation for Rook: "I will cherish you. I will love you. I'll never let you go. With this ring, I'm yours till death do us part"
something about how you drew HatBoy's grin reminds me of how you draw Rook, so until we get contradictory information I'm going to assume HatBoy is Rook in a larger hat that usual
it wouldn't even be the weirdest thing he's done, to be honest.
I recently started Twisted Wonderland and randomly stumbled upon your blog, just wanted to say that I really like your art style
≽^•⩊•^≼
Also, could I purchase see the young Rook in your style? (He's my favorite so far and I still haven't even met him in game)
🥺👉👈
thank you!! 💜💙💜 SavanaRook is an absolute treasure and 100% worth the wait for how far into the story he is. I honestly wish we had more time with him. I demand we get a realtime redo of the hours and hours we spent watching movies with him in his deeply parasocial bedroom while he told us all the cool IMDB trivia and critiqued the blocking.
HAPPY ROOK DAY OOMFIE!!!! What did you think of his new card 👀
OMG BRIAR 🤝🤝🤝 I am now breaking my tumblr silence after having not posted in a million years :>> ANYWAY I LOVE IT !!!!!!! I know a lot of people have issues with his bangs (especially after the sprites were released) but I still like it 😤 Reminds me of that saying that a good way to tell if you like someone is if they get a hairstyle change and I still love Rook so I guess this means I’m truly a fan 🫶🫶
sobbing that I have to wait 2 years for this card to be on the en server but anything for rookie cookie,,, also!! Here are two memes I posted from my instagram since I know you aren’t on there anymore 🙂↕️
TJE FRENCHB woaw. i havwnt logged onto tumblr for likek a ywar bur woq.. idk if ur a native frenhc speakker but the french is good ThANK TOU FOR MAKING IT MAKE SENSE also this makdw me kick my feet anf gigle lke aschoplgrl tjank tyou OK IM SORYE IDK HOWTIMBLR WORKS IM SORRY IF THIS OS SCARY I MEAN IT IN A GOOD WAY AND IF YOY HATE ME UM IGNORE TJIS
I'M NOT NATIVE BUT I LOVE TO LEARN LANGUAGES AHAHAHHA
Thanks for liking it! (And everyone else too), also another Rook lover!! Cool cool :)
And its not scary! Your message left me giggling instead x) I think you'd giggle more at my Rook print fabric I did because he holds a baguette and I made my teachers so confused LOL
Glad to see my silly edit got me another Rook fan ✨️