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talesofesther · 2 months ago

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an hour found

Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook

Summary: ❝If I have lost an hour this night, it is only to Rook. But lost is wrong. It is an hour found. An hour more clear than any other.❞

A/N: I wanted a deeper look into this sweet moment. <3

Masterlist

Nearing midnight;

It was quiet in the Lighthouse, the slice of the fade the team called home mimicked the night of the world outside and brought an air of calmness and peace. Everyone was already mostly asleep, or at least they should be—maybe Bellara was still up in her workshop, but she'd be calling it a night soon.

Everyone, except Lucanis. The resident assassin sat on the library's couch, a book in his hands and a half-full coffee cup on the center table. Hints of exhaustion showed on his face, on the dark circles under his eyes, but he was still skeptical about sleeping for too long. At least he'd ditched his vest, choosing to wear only his pants and button-up shirt to chase a resemblance of comfort.

The words from the book he tried reading blended together from time to time; he'd read the same page thrice over now. The soft hum of the astrolabe above him almost lulled him to sleep. Almost.

Until he heard a noise: the distant click of a door opening, and then the soft steps of socked feet coming closer.

Lucanis looked up from his book. It was Rook coming down from the stairs leading to her room. Her eyes were half-lidded, and she wore a sleepy smile on her lips. Lucanis felt his heart jump and stumble inside his chest, fingers gripping tighter onto his book. For some reason, his cheeks grew warmer the closer she drew.

"Rook…" The word had taken a softer, more gentle tone every time it came out of Lucanis's mouth lately, something akin to a breath of relief each time he saw her.

She smiled wider, walking up to him until she could sit right beside him. But Rook waited still, waited for Lucanis to meet her gaze and give a small smile in turn; only then did she make herself comfortable with him. It didn't go unnoticed by the crow how she was willing to respect his time alone if he so desired.

"What are you doing up this late?" Lucanis inquired, closing his book and setting it aside. She deserved his attention much more than the Orlesian romance tale he'd been trying to read.

Rook hummed, leaning back on the plush couch and allowing her shoulder to rest against Lucanis's. "Disturbing you."

The crow would be able to hear the smile in her words even if his eyes weren't locked on her; it stole one from him, too. He hesitated, all too aware of the warmth of her body against him. "Disturb is not… quite the word I'd use."

"Oh?" Rook raised a brow. One of her hands sneaked toward him and found his own. "And what word would you use?"

Lucanis looked down at their joined hands; Rook's fingers traced the faded scars on his knuckles and the back of his hand. Lucanis couldn't help but hold on to her. "Calming, maybe," he whispered. It was all so new, so fragile. Never in his life did he have something, someone like Rook. She was his first… everything. And it scared him, while at the same time, it made him want to drown in her presence.

His heart beat heavily inside his chest, near painfully. Lucanis raised his gaze only to find Rook much closer. He mapped the lines of her face with his eyes, following the curve of her cheeks, the slope of her nose, until he reached her lips. Lucanis's breath caught in his throat. His forehead touched hers, their noses almost bumping.

It was all intimate and tender, a moment tucked far away from the problems of the world, where only they existed. And he wanted to—oh, how much he wanted to just give in. But Lucanis felt his lower lip wobble with uncertainty and hesitation. Not because there was any doubt, no. But because his life had never been truly his; because a year filled with isolation and torture still haunted his dreams; because he loved her too much already, and it terrified him.

Rook saw it in his eyes; she had this way about her that always managed to break through his walls as if they were mere paper under the rain. And she smiled.

Lucanis felt faint with her love. He could crumble when, instead of pulling away, she took hold of his cheeks; her fingers brushing the area under his eyes, and she placed a lingering kiss between his brows.

He felt selfish as he raised a hand to close around her wrist, pushing the palm of her hand further against his cheek. Lucanis closed his eyes, gulping heavily. "I'm sorry. You deserve bette-"

The words stumbled and halted before he could finish, the culprit for it being Rook's thumb that came to rest above his lips, shushing him with a gentleness that felt almost foreign for the crow. A gentleness that came only with her.

"I've heard these words from you more times than I'd like to count," Rook's voice remained quiet and soft, so as to not break the moment. She held a pause, waiting until Lucanis opened his eyes again. "Why would you believe such a thing, Lucanis?"

The look on Rook's face made it seem as if his reoccurring affirmation of her deserving better than anything he could ever be, was as absurd a claim as saying Assan doesn't deserve his gingerwort truffles.

In the back of his mind, Lucanis knew that no answer he gave would ever convince her. So he relented, blaming it on the late hours of the night as he surrendered himself completely to her open arms.

Lucanis ducked his head, hiding the vulnerability that had begun pooling on the lower lid of his chocolate eyes. And Rook pulled him to her, arms circling around his shoulders as she allowed Lucanis to all but lay on top of her.

If the crow indulged in the warmth of her body for a few minutes longer that night, no one needed to know.

Maybe, in time, he'd learn to believe himself deserving of the happiness her mere presence brought to his life.

── ⋅ ஓ ⋅ ──

When Lucanis came back to his little room in the pantry, he reached for the aged paper on which he had scribbled down his routine for the day.

Right at the end of it, with an all too adoring smile on his lips, Lucanis added a final note; If I have lost an hour this night, it is only to Rook. But lost is wrong. It is an hour found. An hour more clear than any other.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

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#lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #dragon age lucanis #da4 lucanis #lucanis romance #lucanis fanfiction #lucanis imagine #lucanis x reader #dragon age the veilguard #da: the veilguard #dragon age fanfiction #lucanis x you #fanfic #angst #fluff #lucanis dellamorte x rook #my story

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pomefioredove · 7 months ago

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omomg i love ur writing!! <33

if this works can i request 3rd years + ruggie epel and silver with a GN reader thats very elegant, like duchess from the aristocats?

if possible i’d like reader to not be yuu 🎀

like the reader is the oldest sibling and has a very gentle and elegant aura, making then very loveable by everyone? reader is very smart, attractive, and especially sweet and gentle.

everyone would first assume that theyre spoiled bc theyre an aristocrat but they shock everyone w their personality

I have been writing nothing but fics for months now,, so I'm taking a break by going through the headcanon requests that were sent when I wasn't writing

summary: elegant reader type of post: headcanons characters: third years + ruggie, epel, silver additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu

Trey is your best friend, your platonic soulmate. he's... wary, at first, not really knowing what to expect from you; but he's also the first to warm up. as the designated Heartslabyul mediator and an eldest sibling himself, you two have a lot to bond over. maybe your refined and elegant tastes influence his baking, even; he definitely spoils you

oddly enough, social butterfly Cater has a hard time approaching you. not because you're popular, not because you're an aristocrat, just because you're so... genuine. it's uncommon for a student of Night Raven to be anything even remotely close to nice or sweet, and it throws him off

but he warms up to you eventually; expect to be all over his Magicam within a few months

...he may or may not still be trying to figure out what you're hiding, though

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona has had enough of the nobility to last him a lifetime. expect an eye-roll or a sharp rebuff any time you try to get close, he's never in the mood to deal with "spoiled, silver-spoon sucking little kids" (in his own words). persistence is key, here; much like a housecat, it takes him a long time to get comfortable with new people

now, Ruggie will never miss a chance to take advantage of your kindness. this doesn't mean that he doesn't like you, he's just a man of opportunity! plus, you're an aristocrat; hence, money! eventually, though, he starts feeling kinda bad for you, and he tries to toughen you up a little so you don't get swindled. results are varied

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

oh, Rook is absolutely smitten with you. your elegance, your gentleness, you are the absolute picture of beauty to him!

he's been keeping a close eye on you since orientation, both to ensure your safety, and just because he likes looking at you. everything you do is so delicate, he would put you on a shelf if he could

...not unlike Leona, Epel avoids you. the very last thing he needs is another pampered, elegant noble breathing down his neck, and... being seen with you would hurt his image

after all, he's already struggling to be taken seriously, so befriending the goody-two-shoes lovable sweetheart of NRC is completely out of the question

it takes him some time, but if you let him feel like he's protecting you (somehow), he'll stick to you like glue

you are just like Neige and Vil dislikes you for it. he knows it's unfair, but he can't force himself to get along with someone that reminds him so much of his worst enemy. so perfect, so sweet, pretty, and loved by everyone...

he's not an animal, though; he's civil when you cross paths. he even lets Rook gush about you. just don't expect him to be as easy to befriend as the others

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is not a fan.

first of all, you're way out of his league.

second of all... no, actually, that's it.

he knows from the start that someone so lovable and popular wouldn't be caught dead with someone like him, and he leaves it at that. unfortunately for him, you're also the curious type, and are drawn to him like a moth to a flame. your patience has no end, and eventually, you wear him down. now he can speak to you in full sentences!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Silver likes you, perhaps more than anyone else, though he doesn't really show it. he's not so great at expressing himself in words, but you can be sure he'll be there if you need something. he's nothing if not loyal, after all

you are so nice to Malleus and he likes it so much :) he's not used to anyone being so gentle with him, and it's a feeling he could easily get addicted to

he maaaay be a little overprotective and wary about your interactions with the other students, but he trusts you, too. just as long as you stay your sweet and endearing self, he's happy

Lilia thinks you're just great. it's not easy staying so kind in a place like this, but he always sees you with a smile on your face and a spring in your step... albeit, a more dignified and elegant one

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #epel felmier x reader #rook hunt x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #silver x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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tastefulsimp · 2 months ago

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Emmrich (non-lich) & female Rook - Engagement & Expecting

This is for all my depraved Emmrich girlies who yearn. (And the girlies who wanna give Manfred a human sibling) This was supposed to just be random head canons, but kinda turned into a fic, or an imagine.

After your adventures came to an end, he decided there was no point in wasting time. He proposed to you in the memorial gardens a few months after things had settled down.

Before he asked for your hand, he stopped by his parent’s graves to let them know how much he wished they could meet their new daughter-in-law.

Being the old-fashioned courting type, he also asked for the blessing of your closest companions and faction members. He made sure to include fallen companions as well, informing their shrines of his intentions with you.

When you said yes, he was over the moon. He wasn’t sure how he ever caught your attention. A young, fresh-faced adventurer like you, should have been with someone similar. Yet, you said yes. He was to be your husband, and you were to be his wife.

He always imagined he would get married, he confessed this to Harding on your journeys. But as the years passed, the idea felt further and further out of his reach.

You both cried as he slid his mother’s ring onto your finger.

Since the engagement, you had been searching for a townhouse in Nevarra City. Of course, you’d still spend a lot of time in the lighthouse. And, there would need to be an Elluvian moved there. But, a private place for your little family was necessary.

Manfred would be needing a quiet place to study since joining the academy. He was thrilled at the idea of having his own room.

Things had been very passionate between you since the engagement. Something about wearing a ring and preparing to take his last name made you want him constantly.

It did something similar for him. Knowing that the world knew your heart belonged to him, and his to you— was electrifying.

As a couple you had also been a little less careful since the engagement.

You decided on an intimate ceremony with just loved ones. With a bigger reception in the ballroom of the Necropolis.

With a date set in a month, and the final negotiations on your new home the next day. Emmrich invited you to a nice dinner.

He was surprised when you declined the server’s offer of a vintage red wine to pair with your meal.

Even more so when you declined fruit tarts after learning they were made with Papaya. A fruit in which he had come to learn, you quite enjoyed.

That morning when he woke to find you not in bed, and heard someone evacuating the contents of their stomach in the infirmary, he was concerned.

When you returned to bed, he caressed a concerned hand across your cheek and asked if you were alright. He made you promise to see a healer after you claimed it was just an upset stomach.

You had some business in Minrathous that morning, and figured you would stop by a healer on your way to that meeting. After all, you promised.

As you took a seat at table, Dorian and Neve both shot out of their seats when they noticed how pale you were.

“I’ll be fine. I— Can you two keep a secret?” you said, smiling at them.

You were late getting back to the lighthouse, and found Emmrich impatiently waiting for your return.

“Darling, you’re late. We must hurry to the closing on the house— wait, what did the healer say? Is everything alright?” He said, scolding you as you came through the Elluvian, his tone softening once he remembered your ailment from last night.

You smiled at him, and grabbed his hands before reaching up to kiss him. Then whispering in his ear.

Your whispered confession stopped Emmrich in his tracks. His eyes widened as he took a step back to look you over, slowly turning his head to one side in astonishment. Tears filled your eyes as you smiled and nodded. Emmrich attempted to speak, stumbling over his words as tears pricked his eyes, before he rushed in and wrapped you in his arms. Both of you rocked gently while you wept tears of joy.

After closing on the house, he gently lifted you across the threshold of your new home, and placed you back on the floor. Then kneeled to kiss your stomach, before standing and wrapping his arms around you and Manfred.

Later that night, he suggested moving the ceremony date to next week. Call him old-fashioned, but he was going to make an honest woman out of you.

and they lived happily ever after, the end.

#emmrich x rook #emmrich volkarin #emmrook #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age imagine #emmrich imagine #pregnancy trope #normally pregnancy scares tf out of me but I love the idea of having his babies #I don’t even like Papaya #marriage #engagement

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forcebewitht · 11 months ago

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Hey, since book 6 has been out in English for a while, could we possibly see an Overblot!Idia x reader? I really love the idea of him dramatically taking off the mask he has on to kiss the reader.

A Dance With Death (Overblot!Idia Shroud x MC!Reader)

(Artwork by: Trashochist on Deviantart, X (Twitter), and Instagram)

(Possible TW: Slight yandere implications, stalking, manipulation, branding)

…The time had finally come. All of the trials and tribulations that you had gone through. The pain and strife that had overtaken you in just a few short days. It had all led up to this. The kidnapping of your beloved companion, Grim. The destruction of the Ramshackle dorm. The kidnapping of those who had Overblotted that you had helped through their trauma and developed bonds with overtime. The kidnapping of even the Headmaster of Night Raven College himself. The entirety of these events had thrown Night Raven College into turmoil.

And that was just what excited Idia even more. He had been watching curiously since the very first moment you had arrived at the institution. I mean- a student that didn’t have any magic? Yet arrived within a coffin here to a school of magical students? It was unheard of- and just that alone excited him. This excitement only grew once the Overblots started. His family and organization, S.T.Y.X., had been all over the research of Overblotting for years. But now, after all of this time, someone so close to him (in the school, that is-) was at the forefront of a handful of Overblots? It was far too perfect of a chance to pass up with that new Ramshackle prefect. The plan was sprung, footage and data gathered. He knew that they were going to come for their beloved friends- they were just so cool like that. Literally a superhero in disguise, an underdog that soon had risen to be one of the top dogs within the school. There was a lot of promise with them- no. Not a promise. This was the work of the Fates themselves, he believed. The Fates themselves had led someone to him. Someone powerful. Someone strong. Someone capable of protection. Someone…that could get him back what he had lost all of those years ago.

There they were. Descending down to the depths of Hell that he himself had wrought. They looked horrible- worn for wear, really. To think, these oh so powerful figures from Pomefiore, Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, and Octavinelle, alongside the hero of the school themselves, would be bashed and broken already from mere secondary bosses? They wouldn’t stand a chance against this final boss. Idia grinned beneath the mask that he wore, his arms folding over themselves as the Blot around his figure billowed with every breath he took. He could feel the immeasurable power coursing through his veins- and the normally pessimistic male found himself growing rather cocky the more they walked forward. His golden gaze soon landed upon his hero- his knight in shining…well, uniform. He soon was speaking, his arms outstretched as the flames protruding from his figure began to blaze brighter- hotter.

“Bum bum buuummmm~! Our heroes have finally arrived to the final boss battle! But uh ohhhhhh~ looks like they didn’t level enough, now did they~?”

You found yourself gritting your teeth at Idia above. Already, Vil, Rook, and Epel were readying themselves at your side. The rest soon followed, the weapons they had gained during their prior fights with the Overblot Beasts being raised and ready to overwhelm Idia’s Blot. Idia began to cackle, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Uh ooohh~! Eheheheheheheeeee~! They found the special gear~! But that’s really not gonna do much, you guys! Totally on top of my game, y’know~? These HP and attack stats are through. The. ROOF!”

With his words, Idia’s Overblot Beast, Ortho, began to unleash a flurry of attacks upon you and your party, forcing all of them to scatter across the area. The Beast seemed to know precisely what to do- orders most likely given before this entire fiasco began. You began to find yourself being slowly but surely separated from everyone else thanks to the Beast’s targeted attacks. This separation was key- this was what Idia wanted. He watched as you eventually were cornered entirely, exactly where he wanted you. Once more, a grin spread out under his mask. You looked so cool and tough despite all of this neverending pressure, still shouting out commands for the others to work together to defend themselves, each other, or deflect the attacks his Beast was allowing itself to barrage them all with. He soared downwards until he was finally just before you. You had jumped back slightly upon noticing him approaching, but there truly was nothing that you could use at this time to defend yourself with. He leaned forward, his clawed hands now pressing themselves to either side of the wall beside your head.

“There you are~! The hero themselves~! The shining star of the hour- no, the entirety of Night Raven College~! This is our final stage, (Y/N)! Isn’t it thrilling~?”

“Idia, this is absolutely crazy! You are going to wind up killing us all with thi-”

A clawed finger pressed itself against your lips as he shifted, shushing you gently as he rolled his glowing amber eyes.

“Okay, listen- babe. (Y/N). Baby. Babycakes. Sweetheart. Sweetie pie. Wonder Student. I’m gonna stop you riiigghhtt there, actually- because I know. I know about the whole thing. But you’re gonna be my hero, you know~? You are going to save a life- just like you’ve been doing! So, it’s all good, ‘kay~?”

You began to attempt to protest, but you soon found yourself being swept into Idia’s arms and pulled about. The crazed Overblotted Idia now began to waltz with you despite all of the destruction around the both of you. He sighed blissfully, his eyes burning ablaze with a fiery passion- it was unnerving. He leaned forward once more, now beginning to hush into your ear through that glowing mask he wore.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment, (Y/N). The countless hours I have spent watching and studying your damn near every move…I know your exact schedule bit by bit, y’know, ehehehehee~ I mean, with you and your coolness, you never know when you’re gonna stop another Overblot, honestly. But that coolness that you have doesn’t matter down here- and y’know why~?”

Your eyes soon widened considerably as you felt Idia grab onto your arm. One of his clawed fingers now was set ablaze with a small, blue flame. His grip was tight- commanding in every sense of the word. The flame began to trace itself upon your flesh as he continued to speak- ignoring your cries and attempts to struggle away from him.

“I know everything about you. I have seen your struggles. Your pain. I mean, separated from your home, whatever friends and family you had before…and thrust into a world of magic without any magic yourself. You have been left in the cold by the Fates themselves to fend for yourself. You struggle simply to survive from day to day without any money here…you struggle to maintain your cool and calm composure and keep people like those Heartslabyul first years and the little guy in line…and you then have to deal with the rantings and ravings of spoiled brats like those that Overblotted and, despite wanting for it all to just end, have to buck yourself up instead and keep them from ending it all? It is just an endless cycle of pain, regret, and a loveless life that you have fallen into.”

The more Idia spoke and you felt that flame burning upon your arm, the more you found yourself getting lost into the swirling golden pools upon his sleek, pale, oddly handsome face that were his eyes. For the first time since you had arrived here…you actually genuinely felt seen. You felt heard. Oddly enough, from someone that you had truly rarely seen outside of his own room within the confines of the school itself. Your own gaze finally shifted down to your arm as his finger retracted. He had burned the insignia of his family’s company, S.T.Y.X., onto your flesh. He blew out the fire on his finger, now grinning once more wickedly beneath his mask as his clawed hands now seized you by the waist once more, pulling you into his deadly embrace.

“I know, I know. I know it hurts. All of that going on and absolutely nothing to ever truly be gained from it all…well, my Wonder Student…that’s gonna end for you right now. With what I just gave you…you are mine. And when you’re mine, you have a purpose. You will be protected, provided for. No longer shall you be within the confines of a cage and hidden away in the shadows- you shall be the bright and shining star in our tale- and properly get those monetary stats and all of that raised~!”

Idia’s hand whisked over his face- where that mask was nestled. The mask faded away, revealing his pearly white, razor sharp teeth. They glistened at you as it felt Death was grinning at you- which it essentially was. His royal blue lips curled upwards into a wicked grin as he tugged you even closer to himself, now leaning all of the way forward towards you.

“C’mon~”

He began to pull you with him once more, twisting and turning your body with himself. His clawed hands trailed up and down your figure within your shared dance of destruction, his thoughts split between what he would do with you now that you belonged to him…and that of his brother’s life that you soon would pull up from the depths of the Underworld for him. You all would be a family together- and that only seemed to excite him further as his motions grew swifter, yet sly. He soon had you dramatically dipped, and his lips captured yours in a warm, passionate kiss…thus beginning your true dance with death.

~End~

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney #twst #twistedwonderland #twst x reader #twst idia #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twst overblot #twst idia x reader #idia x reader #overblot idia #overblot idia x reader #yandere idia shroud #twisted wonderland yandere #yandere idia x reader #yes i gave him a few more hades-like vibes #force writes

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twstfanblog · 5 days ago

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hello! hope the new year has been going well so far!

i would like to make a request; can i ask for a Vil x reader, can be platonic or romantic your choice, where the reader is an artist that has drawn a portrait of everyone EXCEPT for Vil and he just tries to do everything to get the reader to draw him. like, posing more dramatically while doing mundane things or sets up dramatic lighting in a classroom

just to have the reader finally draw him after he gets caught in the rain or something XD

sorry if this is too much, feel free to change anything or ignore

Draw me, I demand it

Vil x Reader

Vil would insist he wasn't petty or Divine forbid, jealous. He was a celebrity, an icon, he knew his worth more than anyone. But to know one of the few people he'd ever dare call his friend seemed to be purposefully excluding him made him a bit...upset.

The prefect was a lovely person, fun to talk to and occasionally had an outsider perspective on the media he was engrossed in. While they didn't have the pleasure to talk often, he considered them fond of each other at least. He did anyhow. That was until he learned from Epel that the prefect was an artist, traditional in sense with the medium of simple pen and paper.

Such a fact had been made know because Epel had shown him a sketch the prefect had done. While it wasnt a masterpiece, Vil wouldn't deny it carried potential and clearly show cased a high amount of skill. It was during the conversation that Epel had stated the prefect had drawn all of them.

So the next day, when their paths had crossed, Vil had asked with a teasing edge to see one of the sketches they had done of him. Thats when he learned Epel was wrong. The prefect had done at least one sketch of everyone from their collective friend group, except him.

He'll admit, he was mad in the moment. But now, days later, he finds himself putting more effort into his makeup and hair in the morning. Wearing new tie and shirt combinations with various patterns and textures. Trying new shoe styles for the sake of the Seven. But nothing seemed to spore the prefect to pull out that damned spiral bond black book and annoyingly powdered yellow pen.

At some point, he had even enlisted Rook to plan and stage worthy environments to spark artistic creation. None of which worked, other than Rook appearing all too happy as he put together an entirely new scrapbook of his own.

It wasn't until the weekend. A torrential downpour had suddenly affected the campus, sending students flocking into buildings and dorms. Vil had been in the middle of another attempt to swoon the prefect into sketching him when the rain started. An hour of crafting a vine and flower arch ruined. By the time they had made it to Ramshackle, they were both nearly soaked through.

So now he sat in the lounge of the rundown dorm, a towel that smelled lightly of mothballs and holding an old mug of cheap hot chocolate being warmed by a fire. The prefect had just stepped in the lounge, mouth open with their own mug before they froze. Then they scurried away, returning with that forsaken notebook and started to scribble.

Vil raised an eyebrow, confused as to what they could possibly be sketching. Looking out the window at his side, Vil noticed in the sanctuary of an overgrown bush and the windows ledge were two butterflies. One noticeably bigger, wings packed with technicolor blues and purples, while the other was a simple silver-grey. He huffed, seeing the cosmic irony of the two insects cuddled together while he sat across the room from his own plain butterfly.

The rain didn't let up. It rained for hours at the same intensity it had started. With his drink gone and the prefect lulled to sleep, Vil finally stood to gently pull their sketchbook from their limp hands. Looking through the pages, he couldn't help but pout at seeing multiple sketches of the others and none of him. But on the newest page, he was met with a picture of him waterlogged, sitting by the fireplace and smiling into the mug of hot chocolate.

"..." Vil chuckled, looking to the sleeping freshman before slipping the book back into their hands, "Silly potato. At least you captured my beauty properly..."

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #requests

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heylittleriotact · 30 days ago

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Ｍａｓｓａｇｅ(ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1/2)

Manipulation of tissue in the course of preparation of the body

“Forgive me if I come across as overly familiar, dear, but I feel I must ask: are you nervous?” Her eyes darted from his, looked at his hands, his wine glass, his own half-finished salad - anywhere but at him. “I… I uh…” Andraste’s ashes, she felt like a dull-minded idiot whenever she opened her mouth around him.

My sensual take on Rook's dinner date with Emmrich, and how it lead to them sleeping together for the first time.

Rating: Explicit

Under the cut or on ao3

Neve was right - I should have worn the old shoes…

She shifted her knee upward slightly and pressed the ball of her foot into the ground, freeing her right heel from stiff new leather and hiding her grimace of relief behind the rim of her wine glass as she wriggled her somewhat crushed toes now that they weren’t crammed together, fighting for space in the narrow toe box.

There were a perfectly good pair of well broken in heels sitting in her wardrobe back at the Lighthouse that would have been more than acceptable to wear to dinner with Emmrich, but no, she just had to go to Dock Town earlier in the day with Neve who had all but insisted she buy herself something nice for the occasion…

‘Not saying you don’t know how to clean up - I know you Watchers are a well put together bunch, but I don’t know… maybe you’ll have a nicer evening if you’re not sitting across from Emmrich wearing the same clothes you wear to make funeral arrangements with people?‘

‘I’m almost certain he’ll be sitting across from me wearing the same clothes he wears to make funeral arrangements with people,’ Amina had pointed out, and Neve laughed.

‘How sure are you about that? I’d put my money on him showing up in the most formal, four-piece ensemble he owns if it helps his chances of getting you into bed tonight.’

She had a point - but not about sex. Amina knew perfectly well that weeks and weeks of burning tension shrouded under the polite mantle of collegial professionalism had become increasingly difficult to ignore now that they were… well - now that they were… together. That shoe was going to have to drop sooner rather than later, unless…She wrinkled her nose at the very thought: Unless he was the sort to take a courtship so seriously that abstinence from intimate activities was expected until she shared his name…

But no… surely not. Not judging by the way his hands wandered confidently around her waist and his lips eagerly roamed her neck when he kissed her against the Lovers’ Grave.

Be that as it may, she still didn’t want to overdress for the occasion - how embarrassing would that be? How oblivious?

Her face reddened at the imagined awkwardness of waiting for Emmrich at the eluvian, dressed in a lavish floor-skimming evening gown and gloves, her mass of sleek black hair time-consumingly plaited and pinned up to emphasize the small amount of grave gold that she owned, retrieved from its dusty velvet-lined box for the first time in years because she never had occasion - nor the desire - to actually wear any of it, unlike her gentlemanly new companion who clanged and clattered around everywhere he went like a sentient drawer of silverware.

He’d inevitably appear, descending the stairs from the library wearing what he wore every day - that well-loved waistcoat, a crisp clean shirt, and his favoured combed Druffalo wool trousers. He’d look as handsome as always, and not at all underdressed for a romantic dinner in the

Necropolis, and his eyes would widen at the spectacle of her dressed like she was heading off for cocktails with the King of Ferelden. The corners of his mouth would twitch and he’d clear his throat in a polite attempt to stifle his laughter.

At her.

At how absolutely stupid she looked.

‘It’s dinner - not a setup for a marriage proposal, Neve.’

‘If you say so, but if there’s a cummerbund involved, you owe me five gold.’

‘He wears a cummerbund every day,’ she sighed, turning and pulling open the door to one of the many clothing boutiques populating the market district.

‘I thought it was a sash.’

‘Don’t let him hear you say that unless you want an hour long oration on the particulars of ‘a gentleman’s wardrobe.’’

At the sound of the bell over the door tinkling, the boutique owner appeared from behind a rack of angular Tevene formal gowns.

She wiped her clammy palms on her pants - shit she was bad at this. She always had been. She hadn’t even been on a dinner date in what… three years?

And now she was sitting across from him, as predicted, wearing the stiff deepstalker leather shoes she’d purchased in a state of utter panic at the shop, along with a plunging, emerald green satin blouse that Neve insisted she leave with, and a new fishtail skirt that she admittedly quite liked: it was a woven fabric, mid-length, pinstriped in black and a rich chocolate brown. The ruffled hem was arranged with thin laces that lended the article a rather pretty bustled look that she thought nicely accentuated the curve of her rear. Disaster of an evening or not, that skirt was going to become a frequently worn item.

And as for the prospect of sleeping together…

She tipped back her glass again. Found it empty.

Dammit.

“Allow me.”

She looked up from the empty crystal goblet to see Emmrich’s hand reaching over the table, waiting patiently for her to pass him the glass. The warm light of the candles on the table between them contrasted with the cool light of the veilfire lanterns and the subtle, ever shifting glow of the wisps that floated lazily around them, drawn to curiously observe the spectacle of the two courting Watchers taking their dinner in the Memorial Gardens.

He had indeed dressed as she predicted: put together, poised… perfect. A man who looked like he was always prepared to hold court at a lectern, soothe a wayward spirit, or arrange a romantic meal complete with an embossed menu with gilded corners.

He was so untouchable, so lofty and distinguished, yet there was an aspect of him that she still couldn’t quite place - perhaps she hadn’t known him long enough yet. Perhaps their relationship was still too new and he’d not seen fit to reveal such parts of himself to her for fear that she would flee. Whatever it was dwelled deep beneath that veneer of perfection, shrouded so well from view that it simply begat speculation.

Was he some sort of deviant? Was this all a facade to disguise a self-serving, narcissistic monster who would eventually wear her down and rob her of her personhood as he claimed her and reduced her to little more than a pretty possession to wear on his arm to fancy parties?

Maybe this was just how he operated: luring in vulnerable and attractive partners until he bored of them and left them for someone more interesting?

Was he a priggish asshole and this was a finely honed act that had worked well for his purposes until he no longer had need to maintain it?

There had to be a reason why a man as genuine and kind as this hadn’t been snatched up decades earlier.

There had to be some literal or figurative skeleton lurking in his closet, and once she tore open the doors and shed light on it, she suspected would step back and place her hands on her hips as she surveyed the stinking desiccated corpse of Truth with a grim and knowing smile, simultaneously satisfied and despondent that she had finally confirmed that Emmrich Volkarin was in fact too good to be true, just as she knew he’d be.

‘Ah yes, there it is,’ she’d say with the nonchalance of someone who’d just found a missing earring stuck behind a cushion, utterly unsurprised and proud of herself for seeing through him and catching onto his game before he could do any real damage. Then she’d gently close the doors of the closet and leave, and he would never hear from her again.

But until such time…

Her scarlet lips parted in a smile and she extended her hand, slipping the delicate crystal stem into his fingers, not drawing back when they made contact, her fingertips brushing over over his own and lingering for perhaps a moment longer than they needed to before they parted and he refilled her glass, the steady ‘glug, glug’ of the wine filling the silence between them.

He passed it back to her and she said thank you, and this time it was his fingers that lingered - like he had been waiting for some sort of unspoken permission to touch her.

Heat pooled in her belly, and she pressed her thighs together, letting her other heel slip from its shoe, praying he couldn’t see the flush that was heating her cheeks under the rouge that she wore on them. She drank from the glass and set it down gently, returning to the stunningly arranged blood orange salad on the plate before her, collecting a few pine nuts on her fork before skewering a mouthful of greens as silence fell between them again.

Fuck - this was just as awkward as she thought it would be - he was probably regretting suggesting this in the first place…

“What do you make of the wine?”

Oh good, they were going to make small talk about what they were drinking: one of the most blatant indications that a date was going terribly.

“It’s nice. Refresh me on its origin?”

He set down his fork and held up his own glass to the candlelight, swirling the semi-translucent garnet vintage and watching it recede down the sides, observing its legs discerningly. “Quite enigmous, truth be told: an entire crate of bottles was left sitting outside the main gate of the Necropolis over a decade ago with no note, no shipping manifest, each bottle containing this same wine - Adirondack Red, according to the label, bottled on well… a date that falls outside the format of any Chantry, Tevinter, or Elven calendars going back to the beginning of dated history.” He angled the glass and dipped his nose into the bowl, nostrils flaring slightly as he took in the fragrance of the wine. He took a sip, letting it roll over his tongue before smiling pleasantly at Amina. “Could it be the mystery of it that makes it taste so scintillating, or does it stand on its own merit?”

“Mhmm…” Amina breathed, realizing she hadn’t blinked in over a minute - she’d been tracking Emmrich’s every move with a gaze that was nothing short of predatory… hungry. The heat that simmered deep in her core flared and sparked, embers of its existence rising up through her like molten sap spitting from a piece of burning pine. “Merit…”

He set the glass down, folding his long fingered hands together in front of him to lean forward slightly, his expression soft and inquisitive.

“Forgive me if I come across as overly familiar, dear, but I feel I must ask: are you nervous?”

Her eyes darted from his, looked at his hands, his wine glass, his own half-finished salad - anywhere but at him. “I… I uh…”

Andraste’s ashes, she felt like a dull-minded idiot whenever she opened her mouth around him.

His hand found hers on her side of the table, covering it and imparting a gentle squeeze.

“I’m… yes. Yes, I suppose I am.” she finally admitted, staring at his hand on hers, still unable to meet his eyes.

“So am I.”

That did it.

His thumb danced over her skin, sending welcome jolts of sensation up her arm. She dared to lift her gaze to find him regarding her with a look of understanding affection, his moustache quirked slightly, following the curve of his soft smile. “Does that put your mind somewhat at ease?”

“Yes, actually,” she managed, her voice wavering slightly. “Thank you, Emmrich.”

“Think nothing of it, darling.” He lifted her hand over the table and pressed his lips against the backs of her fingers. “Do try to enjoy yourself - tonight is only for us: there is no expectation, nor misplaced assumption… not on my part, at least.”

He was right: it wasn’t that he was telling her to pretend she was having a nice time for the benefit of his ego. He truly did want her to relax, loosen up, and just… be.

“It’s been uh… quite awhile since I’ve spent time with someone like this. I think I’ve forgotten how.” Despite the self-deprecating statement she felt some of the tension in her shoulders release as Emmrich set her hand back down on the table, and she felt safe enough to laugh a little.

His own chuckle of amusement joined hers and he sat back and picked up his fork again. “I daresay I find myself in a similar predicament, dear Rook, but I can’t think of better company in which to reacquaint myself with such things.”

Maker’s breath he’s smooth…

They finished their salad and the remaining courses with much more ease, conversation flowing as effortlessly between them as it had since Amina started taking him up on his daily invitations to tea instead of diligently avoiding him as she had in those early days in the Lighthouse.

They covered the standard array of dinner date conversation topics: favourite colours, exactly how long it had been since either of them had been in a relationship, and what attracted them to each other in the first place. It was predictable, typical fare that neither tread too far into the realms of disclosing any damning personal flaws, nor deflected enough to draw suspicion that the other was being deliberately obfuscating.

Normally Amina loathed this brand of superficial small talk - it really didn’t tell one much about a person - nothing important, at any rate. But perhaps it was the Adirondack wine, heady and rich, curiously rife with something that could only be described as magic. Or it could have been the way she kept catching faint whiffs of his fresh, mossy cologne when he waved his hands through the air as he spoke, but as traditionally banal as the topics were, she found herself hanging onto his every word: watching the shape his mouth made as he enunciated certain vowels and consonants, savouring the charming lilt of his tone and how she could nearly pinpoint the exact place in his chest from which his voice resonated…

Then of course there was the food itself: a varied and inspired spread that incorporated an exotic bevy of ingredients that Amina knew to be aphrodisiac in nature: figs and pomegranates, saffron, and spicy peppers that were sweet on her tongue but left her lips tingling, blood-flushed, and tantalizingly swollen.

There was no overlooking the sensual tone of the menu, each course arranged like art on the plate; each morsel designed to arouse and stimulate all five of the senses: it was a meal designed to impress - and to seduce: to make plain his desire for her in the form of an elegant, sophisticated proposition.

Yet here they were, well into dessert (a sinful dark chocolate gateau that was decadent and rich, but didn’t leave her feeling overfull) still trading surface based small talk and polite compliments: they might as well have been at the annual Wintersend Ball put on for all the Watchers, surrounded by colleagues and apprentices.

It was frustrating to say the least: her arousal had made itself known over the course of the evening; blood rushing to her sex, engorging her as she shifted in her chair, bare upper thighs damp as Emmrich prattled on about flowers.

Amina set her fork lengthways across her bare plate and dabbed at the corners of her lips with her napkin before neatly folding it and placing it atop the plate as well. “That was delicious.”

Emmrich finished the last bite of his gateau as well and his fork hovered over his plate as his eyes locked on her mouth and he leaned forward, “You’ve got… there’s a bit of chocolate still–” he laughed - not the cruel, jeering laugh she imagined earlier, but one of charmed endearment - and tapped the left corner of his mouth, “-here.”

Amina probed her tongue around the corner in question, “There?”

It was Emmrich’s turn to look bashful, blushing slightly as he shook his head and lifted a hand towards her, pausing midway to ask, “May I?” She nodded and his thumb found the corner of her mouth, delicately sweeping up the chocolate in question.

He had been about to draw back, pleased that the offending confectionary had been satisfactorily dealt with, but Amina - having spent months dancing around this man, and having officially tired of it as of this moment - caught his wrist and drew his thumb across her lower lip, parting her mouth just enough to lick the bittersweet smudge from his fingertip, smiling when his eyes widened slightly at her audacity as she gently dragged the pad of his thumb over her bottom teeth.

“So chivalrous,” she noted, a hush to her voice that could no longer be attributed to nerves.

He reddened further, swallowed, and managed to take his hand back, promptly scooping up the dregs of his wine as he retreated back to his side of the table. His other hand, Amina observed, had vanished under the table for a fleeting moment and was accompanied by a slight shifting in his seat that did absolutely nothing to quell her very active imagination.

He was nervous, the fact made abundantly clear now that she was actively flirting with him instead of staying within the safe, unthreatening confines of civilized conversation that he was most comfortable in.

He wanted to bed her. He wanted to take that next massive step forward in their relationship. Why else would he have used his sway to have the Gardens cordoned off for the night just for them? Why else would he have conceptualized a culinary experience so blatantly steeped in raw erotic overtones? She knew Emmrich well enough by now to know that he didn’t make oblivious mistakes when it came to romantic gestures.

She was more than willing to partake in his flesh if he was keen on hers, so why the hesitance?

Clumsy silence reigned once more as a skeletal servant cleared away their dessert plates and placed a stemmed cordial glass filled with an opaque daffodil coloured liqueur in front of each of them.

Knowing full well what it was, Amina plucked the delicate glass from the table with fingers that were deceptively gentle despite the scarred, gnarled state of them. “What have we here?” She asked Emmrich as the servant shuffled away.

“Antivan Limón - a vivacious digestif that rounds out a fine meal quite nicely.” He lifted his own between his thumb and forefinger, immediately appearing relieved to be talking about drinks again.

She sipped it, savouring the bright, tart flavour as it pirouetted over her taste buds like a crisp summer breeze: light and vivacious indeed. “Mmmm… it is lovely.” She lowered the glass but didn’t set it down, softly tapping her lacquered fingernails against the patterned crystal. She looked up at Emmrich and treated him to the same soft, kind smile he’d shown her earlier. “Forgive me if I come off as overly familiar, Emmrich, but I feel I must ask: are you nervous?”

The cordial glass wobbled in his hand at her words and he used the other to steady it before putting it down on the table where it would be safe.

“I suppose I am,” he admitted, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards at the familiarity of this conversation.

“So am I,” she quipped, and she leaned over the table to place a soft kiss on his heated cheek, then the quaint line of his smile, etched into his skin from so many years of the kindness and compassion that he gave so freely; then the corner of his mouth. Then she kissed him fully, her tongue feathering past her lips to taste the summery limón that clung to his. He parted for her and she slipped into his mouth, caressing his tongue with her own for only the barest moment before pulling away and sinking back down into her chair. “Does that put your mind somewhat at ease?”

“It does,” he breathed, looking bemused, evidently not yet trusting himself to pick up the cordial glass again. Instead, he studied her, his rich hazel eyes taking in every detail of her hair, her face, and her bare shoulders. “You look truly ravishing tonight, dear.”

Emboldened, Amina smoothed the front of the low cut satin blouse with one hand, pushing her shoulders back and her chest out. “You mentioned that when we met at the eluvian earlier, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

The wine. It had to be the wine. And now the limón which was considerably stronger was making its way through her bloodstream too, and perhaps she should stop now before she made a complete fool of herself, but…

“What do you think of my shoes? I bought them just for tonight.” She slammed her heels back down into the shoes in question and lifted her feet under the table, depositing them tidily into Emmrich’s lap, causing him to jump with such abruptness that the table shifted and the candles wobbled, “Sorry,” she demurred, reaching out to steady a candlestick to keep it from falling over.

He looked down at the shiny, midnight blue shoes in his lap, the pointed toes catching veilfire and wisplight, his mouth wonderfully agape.

“They’re… they’re lovely, dear…” He rasped, his hands disappearing from the surface of the table to softly caress the leather against his fingers, curling them around the sides of her feet and tracing the shape of the expensive shoes, finding the silken texture of her stockings as they wandered towards her ankles. Something changed in his expression then - like he’d woken up and come to his senses. She half expected him to shove her feet off of him and admonish her for her lack of decorum. Instead he looked up at her, his eyes burning with passion. “But they’re hurting you.”

“They’re not,” she lied, tossing back another sip of limón.

“My valiant, stalwart Reaper,” he tutted. “You do our order credit with your devotion, don’t you?” His hands curved beneath her ankles and his thumbs hooked under the pitch of the shoes, popping them free from her soles. “You concealed your discomfort admirably until we were two thirds of our way through the Vault of The Beloved.”

She flicked her hair, maintaining nonchalance even though every one of his calculated touches filled her with a ravenous need for more - for all of him - as much as he would give her. “That’s ridiculous. This is hardly my first time wearing shoes in this style.”

“Oh I’ve seen you traipse around the Lighthouse in shoes like these often enough…” he murmured, his fingers and palms still roving over her feet and ankles tenderly. Had the candles just dimmed slightly? “...and I consider myself to be quite capable of discerning the difference between your comfortable stride, and your belaboured one: I am familiar with the finer points of anatomy.”

Oh. Well that was certainly a response. A response that was… dripping with entendre?

“Been watching me, have you, love?” Her eyebrow raised, her heart made itself comfortable somewhere in the vicinity of her throat.

“I can’t help myself, you see, though I have tried to compose myself and observe you with the deference you deserve…” He tugged the shoes fully from her feet and set them on the ground next to him, enfolding her tiny, pedicured toes in his large, warm hands. “But try as I may, I see glimpses of you in nearly everything I perceive of late: your smile fades through beams of dusty sunlight; a verdant gaze regards me from every living thing in Harding’s greenhouse… I fear I am bewitched, darling Amina, yet the eye does not go wanting when it has the privilege of looking upon you. If I am indeed under your spell, it is surely the happiest curse in existence.”

His thumbs curved into the balls of her feet, cradling her arch and working slow circles into the tense, cramped joints as she took in his words - played them over in her mind… lived in them.

She didn’t know what she’d been expecting him to say, but it… it wasn’t that.

“Emmrich…” she sighed, taking another mouthful of limón and letting her head fall back. The stupid shoes were agony, but his fingers were rapidly undoing the damage they’d done.

“They are stunning shoes, for what it’s worth.” He gathered her right foot in both his hands and began languidly massaging, “But you needn’t sacrifice your comfort in an effort to impress - I assure you: you’ve already accomplished that.”

Unable to help herself anymore at his words, her left foot dallied, stretched, and found what it was looking for - the growing bulge in his pants, pinned against his thigh. She curled her toes against it, marking the catch of Emmrich’s breath and the flutter of his eyelids as she felt him under her toes, her heart beating faster, mouth going dry, touching for the first time this aspect of his anatomy that she had so often fantasized about late at night in her room, her own fingers moving inside her as she fucked herself to climax imagining they were his hard, hot cock pounding into her instead.

It was her favourite thing to think about recently.

“Is this alright?” She asked, watching his throat bob; watching his eyes glass over and then darken with lust.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice straining as he watched her continue rubbing her petite, stocking-clad foot against his hard, clothed cock under the table. “Oh… darling, yes…”

Amina swallowed the last of her limón and set the glass on the table, tugging her right foot from Emmrich’s hand and softly caressing his cock with both feet now. “Don’t worry about me, Emmrich: I knew exactly what I was getting into when I selected those shoes.”

His fingers clasped over her toes again and stroked her feet over his length, his hips arcing subtly into her soles. “I had rather been hoping we might get to know one another better tonight, but I must say: I didn’t anticipate dessert taking this turn,” he murmured, something even more sinful than the chocolate gateau dwelling in his smile.

“Would you like me to stop?” She meant it: she wanted him to enjoy himself, not feel uncomfortable.

“Of course not–”

She traced the shape of him with her flawless feet again, coaxing a soft hiss from him.

“But we should–”

“- get out of here?” She finished for him. “Indulge in a nightcap back at the Lighthouse?”

Neither of them were inexperienced in this arena: they both knew that ‘a nightcap’ consisted of Emmrich burying himself to the hilt between her legs, and both of them finally finding the release they craved after what felt like an eternity of yearning for one another.

“That sounds like a marvelous idea, dear.” He nodded tightly, threw back his entire glass of limón in a single go, and slipped Amina’s shoes back on her feet before standing, the front of his pants visibly straining as he swept around to her side of the table and pulled her chair away from the table - gentlemanly even in his haste to leave this place.

Amina rose to her feet with Emmrich’s hand and twined her fingers between his as he began to lead her from the table, snagging their coats from the nearby coat rack and draping them over his forearm, concealing his arousal from anyone they might might pass by on their route back to the eluvian.

She managed not to limp the distance to the doors of the garden, and before they left the gardens behind, Amina halted and squeezed his hand. “Wait - before we go: this was beautiful,” she looked over her shoulder at the candlelit table, now empty. “It was the most thoughtful, heartfelt dinner anyone’s ever arranged for me, and…” she saw some of the urgency leave his face: his brows softened, his jaw relaxed. “Emmrich… I’m… I’m so glad I met you.”

And she stood on her toes and curled her fingers around the back of his neck, bringing her lips to his in a bruising kiss that caused him to rock back half a step, throwing his free hand back to catch himself before they tumbled backwards into a hedge from the momentum.

When he was sure he steadied himself, he leaned forward into the kiss, carding his fingers through her silky hair, returning her enthusiasm with a muffled groan as he licked into her mouth, tasting her lips and her tongue, feeling the smoothness of her teeth and the warm, wet heat of her.

He pulled away, pupils blown wide, cradling her jaw in his hand as he looked down at her, a thin strand of saliva still connecting them both. “And I you, my sweet Amina,” he breathed. “I only regret that it took so long for us to find one another.”

“Oh I fully intend on making up for lost time,” she purred, gently adjusting his treasured collar pin, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. “Don’t you worry about that.” Her fingers drifted from the pin to his jaw, feeling the realness of him against her flesh. “What I am concerned about is a matter of logistics: where, my handsome suitor, do you propose we enjoy our nightcap?”

Surely he had a bed. She’d never actually asked, but it would be lunacy for him to pack Manfred through the eluvian, back to the Necropolis and up the lift a few dozen levels to his apartment every night… wouldn’t it? There was no way he slept in his armchair or at his desk - not when she’d seen the slow, tentative way he’d unfold from a sitting position sometimes, and heard the brittle cracking of his poor knees as they straightened, worn ligaments and tendons protesting.

She was thirty-six and her knees weren’t in much better condition due to the physical demands of her vocation: she could sympathize, and for that reason, she knew if he didn’t have a bed, he most definitely would have made it everybody’s problem by now.

Oh no, he had a bed, and tonight she was going to learn where in the damned Lighthouse it was, and then she was going to fuck him in it until he couldn’t think straight.

He shouldered the door open, and guided her over the threshold before him, taking care to close the heavy slate doors behind him before turning to her, his eyes glinting. “As it turns out, I do in fact have a bed, darling - did you assume I slept in the laboratory, standing upright like a horse?”

“Of course not: that would be silly.”

“Tremendously,” he concurred, his moustache twitching with a wry smile the instant before he swept one arm around her shoulders, the other behind her knees.

“Hey–!” She warbled out, startled at this new development, and her feet left the ground as he scooped her up, cradling her to his chest, the coats still draped over his forearm.

“You didn’t actually think I was going to let you hobble the entire way back home, did you, dear?”

Home. He’d said home…

Amina knew her face was beetroot as she scrambled for words. “You - you could have just magically healed my feet!” She squirmed halfheartedly in his grip and he snorted in amusement, his breath washing over her face.

“Now where would be the fun in that?” He teased, kissing her nose and setting off down the corridor through the cavernous vault. “But if you find it truly undignified, I’ll gladly set you down and take a moment to tend to your feet...”

She glanced up at him. He was looking ahead to make sure he didn’t trip on anything and send them flying. The sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw stood out against the dusty tomb light diffused throughout the vault, and he still looked well-pleased with himself as he strode onwards, not struggling at all with the task of hauling her bones around.

“I suppose this isn’t so bad…” She leaned her head close to Emmrich’s neck and nuzzled into the expanse of exposed skin between his collar and his jawline, inhaling deeply, filling herself with the comforting scent of him. “My hero… whatever would I do without you?”

He crooked his neck against her ministrations, her breath tickling him - or arousing him - she was unsure which. “I’m hardly a hero, darling - just a gentlem—“

“Professor Volkarin!”

Oh dear.

She felt Emmrich go rigid under her and he turned to address whomever had called out to him: it was an apprentice mage - a young man, no older than nineteen with a shock of curly red hair and a pointy little beard growing from the very tip of his chin.

His eyes went from Emmrich to Amina, then back to Emmrich, widening the entire time.

“Oh - I - s-sorry Professor, I didn’t know you - uh - I know you’ve been… away… b-but I was w-wondering if you could help me understand a few things about uh… Ley lines and their relation to dowsing and other methods of cyclomancy. You see, I’m running into some difficulty wi–”

“Hamish.” Emmrich’s interjection wasn’t unkind, but there was a firmness in his tone that garnered respect and immediately shut Hamish up. “I have absolute faith that a young man of your intelligence doesn’t require a dowsing rod to divine the truth of the matter, which is that I am presently indisposed–”

Amina buried her face in Emmrich’s shoulder to conceal her grin and stifle the giggle that slipped past her lips.

“— now be on your way and submit your questions to me in writing and I shall respond in due course when time permits. Now: good evening to you.” The farewell was delivered with curt finality that indicated the matter was not up for debate, and Amina peeked up from Emmrich’s shoulder to see Hamish soundlessly opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to come to terms with the abject horror of accidentally interrupting his professor during what was obviously a romantic evening.

“Y-yes - of course! Good - good evening to you, Professor…” he bowed jerkily to Emmrich. “Lady.” He tipped his head further down and then turned and fled so quickly Amina thought he Fade-stepped away. Perhaps he had.

When she trusted the lad was out of earshot, Amina laughed properly, curling her fingers into the worn but lovingly kept material of Emmrich’s waistcoat. “I think poor Hamish thinks he’s ruined your chances with me and destroyed his career because of it.”

“Hmm…” Emmrich mused. “I suppose that depends: did young Hamish spoil the evening with his uncouth interruption?”

“Not even close.” She licked his neck - planted a wet, sucking kiss on the hot flesh there.

“Then he has nothing to fear,” he declared, tilting his head down and claiming Amina’s lips in one more deep kiss before setting off again towards the eluvian.

Towards home.

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backjustforberena · 2 months ago

Text

I'm getting emotional about Baela and Rhaenys:

Holds her to her during Laena's funeral.

Stays with her and Rhaena throughout Laena's wake, and gives them a huge hug and entirely focuses on them.

Advocates for Baela as a possible heir to Driftmark.

Checks on Baela's hand and face after the fight after they rush towards her and hug her again, and she holds the girls tight and protects them through the whole altercation.

Has Baela as her ward for six years: the only person that she had after her husband went to war and her children were dead. She raised her and raised her well.

Has her right by her side when she's enthroned on Driftmark, hearing the news about Corlys. Baela having hair like her mother, wearing Velaryon blue, Baela coming to her grandmother's defence when Vaemond gets antagonistic.

The script saying: It's evident they have a loving, trusting relationship.

THEY HUG. RHAENYS PUTS DOWN HER FACADE AND GOES TO COMFORT HER GRANDDAUGHTER IN A TIGHT EMBRACE. (cut portion of a scene)

Choosing to take Baela with her to King's Landing, not leave her behind when she could have - it's not even a thought: she's having both of their dragons readied. (cut portion of a scene)

Holding Baela's hand after speaking to Viserys in front of the court, settling the Driftmark succession. Baela grabbing her grandmother's arm when Vaemond's head comes off.

THE ENTIRE CUT SCENE FROM 1X10! ("...like my mother and father and you!" [...] "I just saw my daughter for the first time in years.")

Rhaenys looking down at her granddaughters kneeling for Rhaenyra as Queen. Rhaenys watching Baela leave her side to go to the Painted Table and be with Rhaenyra. Rhaenys deciding to fight in this war for her grandchildren.

The little smile Rhaenys sends Baela's way after declaring for Rhaenyra.

Rhaenys being at Baela's side when she asks (sending a message to her to come to Dragonstone to handle the council). Being proud of her when she stands up for herself against Alfred Broome.

Baela knowing the story of Rhaenys claiming Meleys off by heart because Rhaenys has told it to her.

"She was a Targaryen princess. The Queen Who Never Was. And she flew to Rook’s Rest of her own will. In defense of her kin. [...] I grieve my grandmother who loved me but I carry her on with me. I will see Rhaenyra ascend the Iron Throne, as Rhaenys wished. As Rhaenys herself should have."

#house of the dragon #rhaenys targaryen #baela targaryen

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ir-abelas-vhenan · 2 months ago

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I would give all my critiques (this is a lie) back if at the end of Veilguard we had found out in an extra extra post-Marvel credits scene that it's just been Sandal playing with figurines on the Skyhold war table's map of Thedas all Civil War Buff Dad style.

I wasn't going to do this because everyone deserves to rationalize Veilguard however works best for them, but in the wake of that hilariously dismal end-of-times IGN interview and AMA, I thought I'd share how my best friend and I decided to view Veilguard. Everything below is taken from probably a fifteen minute text conversation we had working through our disappointment together, but by the end we both felt way better about the game.

Picture this. You reach the climax of the game, Solas has freed himself from the fade and is getting ready to cast a really powerful spell and suddenly, out of nowhere, he just gets squished flat and then it immediately cuts to Bodahn in a little fire-lit room saying "Oh Sandal, you crushed another one of the pieces?"

Varric is sitting there alive, well, and BLONDE, and has been playing the whole game with Sandal and says "the kid's got a great imagination." They're all in the home of the Inquisitor.

So how do we get here, you might ask?

*drumroll*

Actually wait no I fear this is going to be long so I'll put a divider thingy in.

So hear me out.

We'll go a year or so after Trespasser. The inquisitor is going through it. Skyhold is still theirs to command because sure everyone and their mother's mother was mad at the Inquisition for taking care of business, but what are you going to do, take their home away? Not if any of the Inquisitor's fiercely loyal friends have anything to say about it (I'm sure Josephine had something worked out to get a title locked down after there being so much uncertainty at Haven, anyway).

So it's become a home base once more, regardless of how intact the inquisition is or isn't under Divine Victoria. Agents are always going in and out, the murals in the rotunda serve as an ever-present reminder of the mission at hand, and Varric visits regularly from Kirkwall to touch base. On one such visit, Bodahn and Sandal accompany him, because they heard there might be a need for enchantments (BOOM).

One night everyone ends up around the map because it's been a rougher week than usual and a game of wicked grace at the tavern just isn't enough, they've gotta treat this like an overdue group project and pull an all-nighter to get SOMEWHERE on tracking down Solas.

Enter Sandal. He's bored, no one is asking him to enchant anything, and Dagna isn't around for them to talk shop (engage in probably illegal/definitely unsafe experiments). And there, amidst the pile of clutter the team has been using when they need to add a new piece to the war table, is a Rook chess piece.

He's seen one before, of course. Varric used to try and teach it to him back in Kirkwall, and Sandal was good in the way that new chess players who go full chaos mode are stellar at driving experienced chess players crazy. His win streak is no joke. So he grabs it, tries to lighten the mood around the war table because no one in a bad mood is going to be requesting enchantments any time soon, and suddenly the tension that's been building up for months starts to ease just a little.

Eventually, everyone gets involved. Much like any great D&D campaign, they fit time in for the adventures of Rook & co in between skrimishes, secret missions, and stressful planning sessions, but that just enables more people to have input.

The Chargers keep making suggestions of all the missions Rook should go on when they pass through, but these all end up becoming Neve's cases.

Bellara was made up by Cassandra who stopped by for a visit from rebuilding the Seekers/wearing her big hat and she was too busy to give anything substantial, but she went with what she knows: a character who loves romance and has a dead brother.

Sera doesn't have the attention span to get too in-depth with it, but she does doodle all over the map of Thedas and add some much needed commentary as the Rook piece moves across it. She also INSISTS that the villains of the story be old and elfy, because they don't get enough representation as villains.

Lucanis loving coffee/it being 75% of his lines comes exclusively from the fact that on the nights they get too invested to stop it's the only thing that keeps them going and he became the character that embodies that particular struggle.

There are so many enchantments Rook can take advantage of because Sandal keeps thinking of new ones he can test with Dagna when she's next around.

Speaking of Sandal again, he tried to kill Varric off in the beginning because he was putting on his author hat and over-narrating. Varric was of course like "wait no why did you kill me I wanted to be part of this" so he keeps interjecting as himself and everyone else is like "shhh you're dead." They only indulge him when they conclude what feels like a major plot point and need someone with an understanding of narrative and pacing to tie all the threads together or give them an idea of where to go next.

The Inquisitor struggles to get into it sometimes because they feel like the weight of the world is on their shoulders yet again. Occasionally, they'll sighs heavily and insert their game piece onto the board (Blackwall carved it, so it's as close s a completely different style can be to their true likeness) to be like "so anyways, THESE are the problems happening in Southern Thedas, in case anyone forgot" only for their message crystal to light up and Dorian's voice to filter through.

"I hear you're working on an astounding number of hypotheticals. Do you think it would be feasible to form an undercover group that works to liberate slaves?"

And then suddenly they spend the rest of the night working through how effective such an organization might be (through Rook's eyes, of course), but because Dorian isn't there to stop them they give him an insane new hairstyle and mention it every time they're giving a description of the Shadow Dragon leader. He is horrified.

Harding gets to be a self-insert because everyone unilaterally agrees that a fictional scout wouldn't hold a candle to her skill level. All the not fleshed out dwarven plot points come from their scrambled theorizing, but it does inspire her to look deeper into the mysterious Kal-Sharok during her real travels.

The reason Morrigan acts so out of character is because they're all like "we have no fucking idea what she gets up to when she isn't saving the world, but we know she'd be there in some capacity."

Leliana is busy busy busy but when she hears about what they're doing and that Morrigan is involved, she finds the time to send a letter saying "let's give her different hair :)"

When Morrigan finds out she brings Kieran for a visit (he missed all of his friends at Skyhold anyway) and is like "seems a most inconvenient waste of time..." and then finds out Leliana is the reason her game piece looks crazy and is like...make a character who is nosy and up in everyone's business all the time but still super reserved and afraid to trust others. (Boom, hi Neve).

Kieran gets really into the story and is critical to designing Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain. "She has sooOOoO many arms!" he explains, miming it out over the sound of a muffled voice crystal shaking as Dorian yells "you could've killed me! You could have made me evil! But you made me UGLY?!"

Even the Inquisitor, exhausted as they are, still finds the time to check in and ask if brown-haired Varric is still dead. The answer is always yes.

They all have a good laugh about the idea of Treviso and Minrathous being full of zip lines, but how else are they going to get to the parts they actually care about?

Minrathous gets destroyed instead of Treviso because while they're deciding the stakes for Rook to be faced with, Fenris stops by to check in with Varric because he heard they might need to go to Tevinter. He takes one look at the board and goes "hanging bodies. Everywhere."

"Fenris, that means the venatori will take over."

"...this game is stupid anyway."

Iron Bull definitely said "this story needs a DRAGON HUNTER" so boom. Enter Taash. A Dorian that romanced him sighs heavily and decides to play along if only to get to spend more time with his amatus another way. He models a character after one of his favorite professors from when he was a child.

Solas looks so yassified because the Inquisitor's love interest (or Sera, if they're pining after the Dread Wolf himself) came by and threw his actual war table piece into the fire during a particularly rough evening after his agents thwarted them yet again. To replace him, they let Kieran draw on a spoon and add a new cursed detail every time he pulls some bullshit to try and cheer each other up.

Fenris goes back to Kirkwall and complains about the stupid game Varric is running instead of spending all of his time on saving the world. Merrill overhears and is like "oh! They're incorporating eluvians? That's nice!" until she hears about how many there are and her eye starts twitching.

Harding only dies because everyone over-celebrates when Rook finally gets a win over on the stuffed squid animal being used to represent Ghilan'ain and her game piece topples over. Varric insisted that it be canon because he's tired of being the only dead one.

Blackwall gets Sera to be a little more invested by promising they can make a character together, maybe an elven Grey Warden! She washes her hands of anything too dalish, even though Blackwall makes it clear that there's more to him than that, but insists he should have a loyal griffon friend in honor of his rocking toys.

It's one of the Inquisitor's fondest memories as they prepare to actually find Solas for real, and one of the only unifying threads keeping everyone sane.

#there's just so much possibility #and I think it would have enabled Veilguard to be a fun in-between game before The Actual Game #I won't make it any longer but obviously there's so much potential behind other characters and story elements #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #solas #datv #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age veilguard #dragon age inquisition #varric #sandal #dragon age #datv critical #veilguard critical

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simplyreveries · 1 year ago

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hello, happy new year!

i wanted to request ace, rook, floyd and trey with gn s/o who loves cute things, and sometimes even gets emotional if something's too cute; reader thinks their boyfriend is cute too and sometimes rambles or smothers him because they can't help it LOL ,, sorry this idea has been in my head for awhile now

thank you!

ace trappola

surprised but has gotten used to it whenever he sees you gushing about something cute you saw the other day or even just a cute bird you saw when walking too ramshackle. he doesn't really understand it, especially when you find yourself getting emotional over it—! he gives you wide eyes unsure of what to do. the first time he caught that he thought there was something actually wrong, so he panicked, and you were just like “there was this cute fish… i saw through the window at the mostro lounge…” im sorry but he laughed… but hey he did try to cheer you up… after that.

but when you came up to him teary?! grabbing his face and telling him how cute he is he gets all wide eyed and surprised as he stares at you before laughing and pulling away rather quickly with his cheeks all flushed. ace makes some painful attempt at joking and laughing off, acting all confused as you are why you’re suddenly doing this— you usually do this to cute pets or cute items not him!

sometimes whenever you take pictures on your ghost camera of him and show him, simply rambling and talking all about how cute he looks. (he claims he's not cute he's cool!!) but he can't deny the fact that he is totally sucking up and loving the positive attention from you.

floyd leech

he fluctuates between saying its cute as well or laughing at you because he finds your reaction cute and silly. most likely a mixture of the two. your fascination with cute animals and especial sea creatures as you're practically begging him to take you down to the coral sea so he can show you them all, he was the one to playfully propose that idea anyway.

he gets such an ego boost whenever you go on about how cute you think he is, he finds himself wearing and doing things more to get that reaction out of you. like though jade or especially azul chastise him about being more dressed formally when working at the mostro lounge— he told them that he kept the bedhead because you told him it looked cute on him, so he had to keep it obviously. he also comes up to you all the time and shows you something like ‘eel socks’ he bought and showed you because he knew you’d find them cute.

floyd can get a little bitter without shame when your attention and practically cooing over something or someone else. he’ll do anything to turn your direction back on him. which he finds to be quite easy because its usually something like giving you some cute charms or keychains he found at some shop and got it for you, that tends to do the trick hehe.

trey clover

he gets all bashful and surprised whenever you come up to him and hold his face in your hands telling him how cute you find him. he’s never really been one to think of himself as ‘cute’ if you will, that's more of someone like cater's thing. yet he is flattered nevertheless when you go on and on telling him what you find most endearing about him.

trey likes to ask you for advice for decorating treats and cakes as you always seem to get excited over choosing and telling him how to make it as cute and pretty as possible. and though it's not always his style, he does admit that you have a good eye for aesthetics.

does get a little concerned when you tend to become emotional about it as he feels like something is genuinely wrong with you and wants to figure out the issue— when it turns out it was just because riddle allowed you to hold heartslabyul's hedgehogs and you started bawling because they were too cute and small. poor treys heart, he was stressing out when he found you brought to tears…!

#twst #disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twst imagines #twisted wonderland #ace x reader #trey x reader #floyd x reader #ace trappola x reader #trey clover x reader #ace trapolla x reader

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stankhole · 8 months ago

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predictions for veilguard romances under the cut. would love to hear what you guys think will happen with the characters

davrin

confident and seems like the type that would immediately flirt back

would use assan playing cute as a way to pick up dates

later you find out the sad reasoning behind why he left his clan & joined the wardens

taash

her wearing armor reminiscent of the shokra-taar/antaam-saar makes me think she’s a qunari still following the qun

she’s initially only interested in a physical relationship and has to work through her upbringing under the qun to become comfortable with a romantic relationship

wants to ride rook’s bones to dust after they take down a dragon the first time

harding

she feels like she has an obligation to the inquisition/rook/varric/whatever organization she’s a part of so she’s initially hesistant to enter into a relationship. she’s been a forward scout for so long she’s used to being all work and no play so when you flirt with her she enjoys it but doesn’t take it too seriously, she’s been traveling with varric recently so she’s used to it after all

she’s also confused because of the magical powers she gains and is afraid of hurting rook since she can’t control them

you help her get control of her magic/figure out where it’s from and you bone

lucanis

virgin

been raised to be a perfect assassin so he doesn’t know what to do when someone shows genuine interest in him

since he was raised to take over as the next talon, he’s used to having his life planned out for him so when he gets the freedom of making his own choices he doesn’t really know what to do

final romance flag is either after he tells his grandmother he doesn’t want to be the new talon or after his cousin finds out he’s not dead

please let him mention zevran, even if just in passing

bellara

sunny and goofball personality, likes to make their lover laugh

very intelligent, a big history nerd and would love to take you to romantic places in arlathan and give romantic ancient gifts

thrill seeker, first kiss scene happens after doing something reckless, be that a veil jump or boss fight

emmrich

grandpa thinks he’s too old for you and you deserve someone younger, but when you don’t back down you realize that peepaw absolutely ~ f u c k s ~

married to his job for the past 30 years, his only friends are his skeletal assistants

manfred will absolutely walk in on you two getting busy at some point

i hope desire demons make a comeback and show up in his story

somehow knows cassandra; is like her 5th uncle 3 times removed

neve

knows what she wants and isn’t going to hesitate if you show interest in her

but will not be fully invested in the relationship aspect at first because of her cynicism. eventually comes around when she realizes how devoted you are to making minrathous/the world a better place

has worked with dorian/ dorian is an informant for her

god bioware please give her a dwarven strap that matches her prosthetic. she’d be unstoppable 🙏🏻

#da4 #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #datv #neve gallus #davrin #taash #lace harding #dragon age lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #bellara dragon age #emmrich volkarin #dragon age theory

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robin-evry · 3 months ago

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Hi, so I love your work and was curious on if I can infodump on SpiderMan/Spidersona!Yuu. I wanted to create Spidersona!Yuu, but I ran out of ideas, so.... is it okay if I do so?

Thank you I'm glad you enjoy it, this gave me a brain rot about spider!yuu so I hope you don't mind me creating a headcanon about them. And sure if you want info dump me.

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 🕸️🕷️

The Spider-Verse is connected by the Web of Life and Destiny. This is a subsection of the Marvel multiverse that connects all versions of Spider-Man from across the multiverse in a series of shared events and attributes.

Imagine during the dwarf cave mind, yuu was bitten by a spider. When they reported this back to Crowley, he said that they would be fine since the spider that seems to bite them isn't that dangerous and doesn't seem to have any venom in it. So they sleep it off, and when they wake up, they have been greatly enhanced as well as given some magical abilities.

Or spider!yuu was their city's friendly neighborhood hero, saving lives and being a student. During one of their times saving a civilian from a robbery a black carriage appears in their eye sight and everything turns black and then wakes up in a coffin and wearing a robe.

Regardless they will still be their hero self but instead of their city it's in another world.

At NRC, spider!yuu has a regular reputation at school they are well known for being smart at subjects like potionolgy but by far that's it, they don't stand out a lot. But who cares such boring students there's been a new hero appearing at the island.

Using webs to stop robber injustice on the island, this hero manages to become a vigilante on this island as well as a friend on the island for anyone. ( NRC is located in an Island with a town and RSA, you can look up at )

Using the new technology and resources in the world, spider!yuu manage to build themselves a much better arsenal or equipment for them during their time.

Grim work as their sidekick sometimes helps them get out of situations that almost caught or reveal their identity, as well give them enough time to change into their suit.

After a day of crime fighting and studying for a subject, spider!Yuu would swing towards the highest point of NRC, take a deep breath of fresh air and admire the sun rise right there as well looking at the entire island.

During their time at NRC, they have gained and a few trustworthy friends that knew their identity ace, deuce and grim will work as eyes on the ground and idia figure their identity on accident but he promises on not telling their identity as well help them with tech and turning off any security cameras that may become a big problem

Even some students already knew their identity but decided to keep it a secret out of respect for what spider!yuus doing. Rook also managed to find out but decided to keep it a secret as a way of respect and thanking them for saving vil one time.

Malleus and their first interaction, was when spider!yuu was in their hero suit and saw malleus thinking about something and decided to hang upside down and greeted him. This of course caught the malleus off guard but found this situation amusing and they continued to chat for a few minutes until malleus had to leave.

Spider!yuu is also manage to learn how to build and create their own suit thanks to the help of their late-mentor as well some advanced technology. One of their most prizes possessions are a pair of advanced technology glasses.

Under ramshackle, spider!Yuu have built a lair with multiple suits inside for them. That insists on them in any situation, this place also becomes their and first years hang out place, talking about tech and other things, comic books and school it even has a lounge area for them.

Similar to their other variants in other universes, spider!yuu has the same abilities as them spidey sense, enhanced physical body as well the ability to shoot out webs but what makes them different from the others is that they are able to shoot webs using magic or channel or cast magic thru their webs.

Spider!Yuu can alter the properties of their webs with magic, creating webs that freeze, burn, or shock on contact. For instance, they might use an ice-infused web to immobilize an opponent or a fire-infused web to create a protective barrier. As well creating protective barriers, charms and etc. during times of them being busy in NRC they are able to create a clone of themselves to deal with their school or hero work when one of them gets busy. But they only can make one at a time.

Has an army of cats behind the ramshackle dorm, spider!yuu is notorious for feeding and giving shelter towards stray cats to the point they will follow them everywhere even during their hero time, this is almost revealed their secret identity due to the cats being able to recognize their scent.

Even without the suit, spider!yuu is naturally a good person and a mediator, they come across epel being Targeted by many rowdy students who just finish destroying his plant project for a class before it can escalate into something worse, spider!yuu In front of both of them and ask the bullies to go away. Epel was originally mad at them for letting them get away with his plant but spider!yuu decided to give their plant project to epel instead. Surprise by this act before epel can react, spider!yuu has already left the green house. In return epel gave them a crate of his grandparents apple juice as a way to say thank you to them, this is the start of a beautiful friendship.

Spider!yuu hero persona has become some sort of idol towards the RSA student, the student body seeing them as a hero or a knight in shining armor making them to idolize spider!yuu and drive their dedication to chivalry. A mascot and idol towards people in twst

Even tho they save lives and fight crime many people are still suspicious of them saying that their hero persona is nothing but a fake and will try to tarnish their name.

Even tho spider!yuu is accommodating to their new life in twst, they are still worried about their city and family doing without them as well being constantly burned out due to them always trying to balance their double life.

Since every universe is supposed to have a canon spiderman, I have this writing idea that helps connect spider!yuu to the spider verse or web of Destin, so basically spider!yuu dimension already has a spiderman so they don't need another spiderman, and so spider!yuu was teleported to twst to become its canon spiderman. In summary spider!yuu was Destined to become the spiderman of the twst universe and they were destined to come to / be in twst to become its canon spiderman.

#twisted wonderland #not canon #twst scenario #disney twst #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu au #twst mc #twst x reader #twst yuu au #spidersona #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider!yuu #spiderman!yuu #spidersona!yuu

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