Kaori | She/her | TWST writer, Archer, Jewelry artist | ROOKIE COOKIE ENTHUSIAST | A representative of Pomefiore | |Requests & Asks OPEN | Live, laugh, Lovecraft. I AM RECENTLY 18. IF YOU SEND FREAKY STUFF ITS STILL A BLOCK.
Prompts, One shots, Mild NSFW/suggestive themes, but please be reasonable with your requests and respect that I may be uncomfortable with some of them. I reserve the right to delete any overly sexual or uncomfortable asks!
My favorites to write:
Character w/ kids, how they propose, yandere/kidnapping, Monster!Character.
Things I will not write:
Incest, underage, furry, poly, overly sexual, explicit, etc.
Characters I write for:
Twisted Wonderland
Azul Ashengrotto
Floyd Leech
Rook Hunt
Sebek Zigvolt
Malleus Draconia
Lilia Vanrouge
DC Comics
The Riddler (23.2, Zero year, Telltale, General comics ver)
Gentleman Ghost (General Comics Ver)
Music Meister (Batman TB&TB, General Comics Ver, All media Vers)
Bungo Stray Dogs
Chuuya Nakahara
Dazai Osamu
Mushitaro Oguri
Howard Philips Lovecraft
Sigma
Tetcho Suehiro
Jono Saigiku
Motojiro Kajii
Ango Sakaguchi
Diabolik Lovers
Reiji Sakamaki
Azusa Mukami
Yuma Mukami
(Please ask if there's someone you want and don't see. These are just the characters I know I can get just right in my work :)
Thank you for coming! Please feel free to ask me anything as well.
Clicking on Pinterest ads & guessing the price of this highly specific and never-before seen item, but always guessing 9 billion dollars and sometimes that's close.
Yeppers guys I woke up from my 2 year slumber. Very busy in college but hoping to continue my streak of working through a few fanfics a week, as I just got a laptop & it's making my life 1000x easier. I'm trying to get my spark back, so I apologize if my stories feel like they're missing something. I have officially opened up my requests again with some new characters, and as always, feel free to request characters who are from the same fandom.
pls more stuff for the one were yuu sprays rook with there perfume/cologne and malleus is freaking out
HEHEHE
I don't know if you saw, but I did make a part two to that. It's here. But in case you did, here's part three, in long fic form.
It's Rook & Malleus x reader, because I love them both too much.
Bleeding Musk and Rose
"Mon cher--"
"Stop calling me that--"
"Heh, what would you do, Mon Tricksteur? Spray me with your scent again? Oh I will say, that tantalizing scent of yours got me in a lot of trouble with Roi de poison and Roi de dragons. I understand why someone would go to such great lengths to please you now, when you smell so marvelous! But they did not appreciate the fine beauty of your scent on another man. Hmm, heh. Perhaps they thought that we were together? ♡ hmm? Mon tresor, how do you feel about that idea?"
"Is he bothering you, Child of Man?" Ever since Malleus pummeled Rook straight into the infirmary, things had been tense between the two of them.
"No, Tsunotarou, everything's fi--"
"Do you take issue with this, Roi de dragons?"
Oh god, these two.
"I don't know Hunt, do I need to?"
You knew they could go on all day long like this, just threatening each other until the other struck. The hunter versus the predator. This couldn't go down well.
"Hmph, you just want to start trouble."
"You seem to be causing an awful lot of trouble for Yuu right now. I'm not causing a scene, I'm simply standing up for Child of Man, since it's clear that they don't even want to be so much as seen with you." Malleus' sneering glare is surprisingly sharp.
"Alright, alright! Break it up already! It's not that serious." It's like they don't even hear you.
You sigh and back away slowly. It's not worth trying to stop them, either they'll fight it out or they won't. You roll your eyes as you turn away, the sound of shouts from Vil & Sebek joining the chaos as they try to break them up.
"Good luck, boys!" You call, laughing. Maybe you'll use the scent again sometime, if you ever feel like starting drama.
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.
I get so awkward requesting writings but uh- how do you think rook would react if you got your haircut like his? Because you thought he looked pretty or somthing and just *bam* bobcut
Dear Anon, I fear I too have his haircut and I think about that every day TwT
Rook Hunt W/ Reader Who Gets A Bobcut
Rook is… shocked, to say the least. He doesn’t know at first whether it’s intentional or by accident, as a bob is fairly common; but you spend so much time making fun of his hair, he would never have expected you to come home with the same haircut!
He doesn’t pry at first; letting you adjust to your new haircut for a couple of days, watching how you style it.
Given that it's pretty similar to how he styles his, he begins to wonder if perhaps all your teasing was a deflection for how much you liked his hairstyle.
After about a month or so, he confronts you on it.
"Mon Cher, I do believe you have something to tell me, don't you?"
You do, but you're not quite ready to say it.
As the months go on and you continue trimming your hair back into the same bobbed shape, it starts feeling normal, but you still catch him staring with a little coy smile when you brush it.
Yes, you certainly did have something to tell him- but you didn't think your mind could bear it if what you had to say was something that would speak to his heart in ways that would mean you would never have a moment alone again.
Sorry if this is bad dear, I don't really write much anymore lol. I had this piece in drafts with one paragraph done for like 2 years TwT, my apologies
Hello guys, I just turned 18!! I am updating my bio but just wanted to let y’all know that nothing has changed for requests & rules. Still nothing more than mildly suggestive, please and thank you 💗💗 :3
Arkham Eddie this. Dano Eddie that. I am absolutely baffled as to why SOLITAIRE Eddie doesn’t come up more. NOBODY writes for him. I CANT WRITE ENOUGH FOR ONE MAN DAMMIT. EVERYONE RECOGNIZES THAT HES A GREAT CHARACTERIZATION BUT NO ONE EVER CONSIDERS HIM FOR FANFICS. THE UTTER LACK OF YOGURT MAN IS APPALLING
Reasons why I think he should be beloved
Has the more mature design charm of telltale riddler
Extremely calculating & very detailed basically everything that a riddler should be
Charisma? Off the charts
LORE? Even MORE off the charts he’s PERFECTLY PETTY AND PRETTY JUST THE WAY A RIDDLER SHOULD BE
IMPLICATIONS of lore ALSO off the charts
INNER THOUGHTS?? THOUGHTING.
MEDITATION? FUCK YEAH ELUCIDATING THE IMAGE OF RIDDLER TRYING YOGA CLASSES IN ARKHAM
RIDDLES? EXCELLENT
OUTFIT??? MAGNIFICENT
FRIGHTENING? IN A SADISTICALLY SEXY WAY
SETTING PERSONAL BOUNDARIES???? KING BEHAVIOR
LIKES YOGURT??????
LISTENS TO MUSIC = RELATABLE
HE’S 100% LISTENING TO PIERCE THE VEIL
DID I MENTION HE LIKES YOGURT??? CHARACTER REVELATION BASICALLY FUCK
HE HAS BIG BEAUTIFUL BROWN DOE EYES FOR A SINGLE PANEL AND THE FACT THAT THERES NO FAN ART FOR THAT IS A CRIME
MAGICALLY CHANGING HAIR COLOR. IS IT RED. IS IT BROWN. NOBODY KNOWS
A REGULAR AVERAGE BODY. NOT HOLLYWOOD’S STANDARD HOT GUY. NO CHISELED JAW. PLUS A HOOKED NOSE???? ARUGH. SHOWS SIGNS OF NATURAL AGING TOO???!?!?! WOOF WOOF AWOOOOOGA
PLEASE FOR THE SAKE OF THE UNIVERSE AND ALL THAT HANGS IN THE BALANCE, CAN WE ALL PRETTY PLEASE START WRITING FOR SOLITAIRE RIDDLER?????
thanks for coming to this pent up rage session your attendance was mandatory but greatly appreciated
I felt the cool touch of his fingertips. And then it was soft. Not the blankets. Not where I lay, half dead. I was soft. I had fallen for my captor.
The Woods | Yan!Monster!Rook Hunt x Reader | Chapter one
WARNING! EXPLICIT VIOLENT CONTENT! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
Hey guys, I’m almost 18 now so I’m going to let a few of my darker stories escape the vault lol. Please enjoy. This is one of my favorites that I’ve ever come up with.
Details: Reader is she/her, in her 20s, Rook is 29 in appearance, age unknown. Rook is an unspecified forest creature with a human form. He works as a butcher, and has a human job simply to people watch. Kidnapping, threats, gore. Not proofread.
Reader’s eyes
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It couldn’t have been past noon on the day that I disappeared. A bright, early winter morning in January. Too early. No one would know I was gone until I never came home. How long did I have to live? Hours? Minutes?
How much longer could I survive, tied up in the back of a rusted green pickup truck, bound and gagged like an animal, clawing my own hands in a desperate effort to escape my mind, knowing I could not escape my bonds?
They say the first 4 hours are crucial to finding a missing person. No one would even start looking for me until the 8 hour mark. Maybe even 24 hours, if the police assumed I had left of my own accord. But no, I hadn’t chosen to leave. Hadn’t chosen to be drugged at a small-town farmers market and dragged into the forest while a man I’d vaguely known around the town for his curiously creepy smile and generally eerie nature pressed his palm to my mouth to cover up my weak screams.
It was broad daylight. There were people. I don’t know how no one saw him do it. Did he time it that perfectly? Could a human being even get it that right?
No witnesses, no traces, no evidence. I knew it in my bones by the time I was gagged. He was known for his silent footsteps, his nature so intertwined with creeping around the forest floor; a professional hunter, a respectful young man, a local butcher with a smile on his face every morning. Every person knew the name Rook Hunt, and believed the esteemed respect that it carried. Sure, some people thought he was a bit… off. Not right in the head. But, who would be completely with it, spending every day in the forest, among the wilderness? No one. They’d never come looking for me at his home, miles outside of town. No. He was too respected to ever be a suspect.
They say the woods do strange things.
I vaguely wonder if he was ever different before. Would he ever have thought of something like this with horror creeping across his face? The disgust of the rational? Or was he born with the a soul half shattered, broken from the beginning?
And then the truck stops.
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I don’t sit up. Not when 5 minutes pass. Not when 10 do.
I don’t know if it’s a trap. I don’t know if when I sit up, I’ll commit myself to a death sentence, like a bear with its paw halfway inside, too late to realize the metal teeth are closing in. Too slow to turn back.
Instead, I pretend I’m still asleep. Pretend whatever poison he gave me hasn’t worn off ages ago. Hope he doesn’t know how long the effects last. Pray he’ll believe.
20 minutes pass before the truck bed opens suddenly, with the loud screech of rusted metal. Almost enough to jolt me. But fear has kept me frozen.
A slow clapping sound fills the air.
My heart sinks to my stomach.
“Very good, mon Cherí. An amicable performance. So very clever; but certainly not clever enough.” He tsks. “Prey rarely escapes by standing still.”
I feel a tug on my feet, and I realize that I can hardly move anyways. He’s right. It hadn’t even occurred to me to try. I discover that my arms and legs are heavy, my fingers numb; I’m not sure whether it’s with ice, poison, or the fear that seems to paralyze me inside regardless of the actual physical state of my limbs.
My eyes burn, open wide as he drags me to the edge of the truck bed.
I don’t like what he does next. It’s so swift, I hardly have time to register movement as I process the dizziness that comes with being scooped into someone’s arms from a resting position I’ve been in for hours.
I try to scream, but only the weakest garbled noise comes out. My jaw is slack and it gives me an instant headache as I try to move my head.
“Shhh… shh.. Be kind, dear. These woods, they have ears. They don’t take so kindly to loud sounds.”
Shh
Like I’m a child who has no right to be upset. Throwing a tantrum. Not fighting for my life.
The words slap me in the face with a poignant sting that leaves me contemplating my future.
Does he see me as something small? Inferior?
Is that an easier justification for killers? Is it easier to take a life, when they view something as beneath them?
Is this how he treats the animals he hunts? Or, judging by the reverence he has for their pelts and fine cuts of meat, am I an anomaly that means even less?
Before the staticky haze even clears from my eyes, the loud creak of a door handle assaults my tender senses.
The door closes behind us swifter than I imagined someone carrying a whole person’s weight would’ve been able to do. I feel something I haven’t felt the pleasure of in hours, and suddenly the pain in my fingertips, on my face and nose hits me all at once as the effects of the cold seem to suddenly set in.
Warmth. Heat. A blessing, as we move through what looks to be a living room. I soak it all in, for a moment forgetting my circumstances as I recall one of the basic human needs, shelter from the elements.
The heat doesn’t soak in long enough.
Another door opens; and as we descend weathered, concrete stairs, this room is hardly warmer than the chilled blasts outside.
It’s just a basement. With a small electric space heater and a blanket. A line of wooden cabinets with tools, clean and shiny.
A… Butcher’s block. The bile rises in my stomach. Tucked in the corner, next to the cabinets; a tall wooden block on wheels, for easy access to every side. Unfinished wood. Less clean. Less shiny. Dulled with brown stains on the top and dripping down the sides.
The oiled golden stain of the wood can do nothing to distract from the blood stains.
I can do no more looking around, as he sets me down on the blanket, gentler than I expect.
A chill runs through me as the space heater barely clicks to life. Half of it is out. The other half seems to burn too bright.
Hunt says nothing, leaning over me with an unsettling leer that turns into a smile filled with a sort of cold kindness that I cannot imagine, suddenly, how was ever filled with any sort of warmth at all.
His bright eyes pierce me in the dim light of the room. What was he looking for?
Something I can use as a weapon? A resolve? A will to survive and escape him?
Or was he looking for the perfect place to cut?
Was he finding the spot he knew would be most precise to carve?
Or was I just imagining things?
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Rook’s eyes
The chill of the basement is almost suitable for the icy glare in her eyes. The determination I see within them can hold no candle to any intent I may bear.
Beauté!
Though this moment would certainly hold its beauty through the passage of time if only I had captured it on camera…
That expression. Trés bien! It shall never exist again in any moment in time. What a shame.
Ah, I am not a patient man.
But even so, I must hold on. Desperate as I may be. Trust is key. And I must earn it.
Oh la la… I can hardly wait for the moment she understands.
“… Your day is coming, Ma Cherí.”
Reader’s eyes
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
He drawls, a gleam in his eyes telling the tale of a sickening excitement I fear may consume me in the end.
He ascends up the stairs quickly and suddenly, leaving me with the ghost of a joyful tune he hummed to himself as he left.
Even the horror cannot keep me up long. My body aches for a recovery only found in rest. It isn’t long before I find solace in the comforting embrace of sleep.
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Hope y’all enjoyed the first chapter! I am trying to get back into writing and I hope to be back with more soon. It was so fun to finally flesh this idea out after years of holding onto it. As I said, I hope to make this my most powerful yandere story yet, and I hope it speaks to my Yan!Rook lovers out there! Have a good week, everyone.
I called it two years ago!! I said malleus is losing a horn. Knew it!! It’s such a beautiful symbolic reference to how much pain he’s been through and how much he fears loss, and yet, at the same time— it sets him free.
Learning to Love Again | Zero Year! Edward Nygma X Reader
Warnings: None
Genre: Fluff
This isn’t good so I’m probably just gonna request better authors to write their versions LOL but I’ll give it a shot. Sorry for the 2 year hiatus!
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At first, Eddie is so hesitant to be touched. He’s scared— fearful of touch, terrified of the consequences of any hand laid upon him except his own.
Years of being mistreated have made every touch a painful one, whether it intends to inflict pain or not. The strike of fear through his body as it hammers into his heart is too close to the feeling that comes before a blow. He, a man with much to hide, does not feel he is a man with much to love. It’s one of his only insecurities, though he hates to admit it even to himself. The experiences he’s had consume his ability to open his heart to new ones.
When you first come into the picture, he does not consider how much he needs to put into the relationship— cocky as always, he wants the benefits, without the expectation of giving back the love he demands. He makes it clear that touch is hardly his thing. You kissed him once, and he used it as an excuse to make a dramatic scene of repulsion by it.
Really, the issue was that it’d caught him off guard. It was scary, new, and unfamiliar to him. Something he didn’t expect, and wasn’t ready to feel. The warmth in the pit of his stomach that came after the dread. The hypnotic buzz in his brain that made his mind go blank and dull for the moment it lasted.
For months, there was no touch— no care, no affections, between the two of you.
His and your desires in a relationship could not be more different.
Finally, it comes up. In the form of an argument, an angry outburst of pain as you cannot grasp why he cannot accept the very base of human love and affection. It’s painful for both, but Eddie needs to hear it. To know that he has caused pain, in his attempt to distance himself from his own.
After the dust settles, you give him options. You can go your separate ways, or he can start working on this. He needs to. The human body desperately needs that affection to function, and he needs to confront his fear of it.
He chooses the latter. It takes him a while— his ego hurts him deeply as he grapples with the thought that he’s done anything wrong at all, that anything he’s done could have consequences in his personal life. But eventually, he gets the message. He can’t avoid this. He has to do it, if he wants to keep the one person who’d ever loved him the way he always felt he’d deserved.
It starts off with small touches. You kiss him in the morning, he kisses you in the evening. It’s soft, and brief, but it helps you let him know that not all touches equal brutality and painful endings. It’s hard to unlearn concepts derived from desperation, but overtime, you get there. It’s slow, and sometimes painful in its own way, but it means a lot.
Eddie becomes far more receptive to the occasional touch— a hug, a kiss, maybe even the rare snuggle. It takes months, but he find his way into it, eventually.
The day you find yourself slow dancing with him in the kitchen, laughing, relaxed, his hands on your hips and yours around his neck— is the first time you’re ever sure, with a certainty so great, you have the overwhelming urge to cry, that everything will be alright.
You’re the first person who’s ever showed him that care; that love, that deep down, every human instinctually desires. After he lets go of the damning idea that he couldn’t possibly need someone to love him— your relationship becomes what it needed to be. What you and Eddie needed.
Over time, Eddie becomes the main initiator of intimacy & affections. He desperately craves touch, and try as he might to hide it with his ego, he fails in his actions. His desire to curl up on you, snuggle with you in the shower, or lean over your shoulder as you brush your teeth to give you the softest kisses to the neck. To him, you’re his everything.
He may have days where he doesn’t want to be touched, or he still gets that rush of adrenaline and dread, but it leaves quickly. You’re his new rock. The person who taught him that maybe not all touch is, was a new means of suffering. Maybe, it can make the heart bloom instead of shrink.
Everyone’s heard the ‘Rook is related to Robin Hood’ theory yeah yeah yeah. But there’s one glaring paradox here: Rook IS the rich one. And he doesn’t give to the poor, as we can see when Ruggie is eating dandelions for lunch and he doesn’t even offer to help like damn we know you got the money 😭
Guys…. We’re gonna have to pull a Mangione on Rook 😦
