#and because of his whole animal side thing that he was just born with in OUAD which yknow isn't normal even for magical beings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arabellasleopardcoat · 11 months

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Honesty (Daemon Targaryen × Reader)

Summary: In which Prince Daemon seduces his unwilling Lady Wife.

Warnings: Smut. Dub Con/ Non Con. Oral sex (F receiving), P in V sex. Stark reader. Convenience Marriage. No use of Y/N.

A/N: First time writing for Daemon. Reader is the oldest sister of Cregan Stark and acts as his regent. Might write the full story one day. High valyrian from an online translator, not explaining it because I wanted the reader to not know the meaning.

The shift was white, silky, and oh so tiny. You stared at it with contempt. It had cost you a pretty penny, as had the cosmetics Lady Manderly had so eagerly pushed into your hands. Red tint, she had said, to paint your lips and enhance your natural attributes in other areas. The woman had even had the nerve to point at your breasts!

It was ridiculous, this whole thing. Had you been born a man, there would be no need for this nonsense. Had you not been born a Stark, it would still be happening, but perhaps in not such a brutal way. Or had you not been tempered by the cold, made so brazen to insult and oppose Otto Hightower, perhaps your punishment wouldn’t be marital rape.

Still. It was your duty, and you intended to perform it. It was the only way to keep Cregan, Rickon and Sara safe. And you would do it. Prince Daemon, your lord husband, as he insisted you called him, could surely get the deed done faster with the proper incentives.

You took off your gown, having been previously unlaced by your trusty maid. You put on the dreaded, lacy shift. The latest fashion in Dorne, you had been told. For how expensive it was, it certainly was made of little fabric. You glared at your reflection, watching how the long sleeves had a vertical cut that made them useless. Your skin broke out in goosebumps, as you wished you could add more wood to the fire.

Some rustling could be heard outside your room and you panicked. You were running out of time. The tint! Made of some berries, you hoped didn’t poison you. You quickly rubbed it on your lips and cheeks, trying to seem less like the terrified girl you were and more like an appealing sight. You sat down, primly, on the foot of the bed just in time for Daemon to enter the room.

“Wife.” He rumbled, coming to stand in front of you. Daemon had docked his furs and armor, his sword no longer rested at his side, just as your agreement dictated. He had come to you unarmed and barefooted, yet it didn’t make him cut a less intimidating figure in the least. His purple eyes looked at the tint with curiosity, and plucked it from your hands. “Getting ready for me? I’m touched.”

You glared at him, trying to hide how much nerves pooled in your stomach, how you were cold from fear, skin clammy and pale.

“If I must…” You shifted to your hands and knees, and lifted your shift, exposing your naked folds and arse. It was quite the vulnerable position, and heat started to spread almost immediately to your cheeks and neck. You hated the humiliation it brought you.

Daemon’s breath hitched. Clearly affected by the sight of your prone, soft body, on the bed. “What are you doing, zoklītsos?” His hand went to your exposed folds, finding you as dry as the sands of the dornish deserts. You nearly jolted at the touch, and only his hand on your hips kept you in place. It was not a good omen, you had gathered, from nights spent exploring your body before the cold and worries had turned you into the frigid ice queen the lords in the South accused you of being.

“Go ahead. Do it.” You closed your eyes, keeping them tightly shut, and braced yourself for the pain. Daemon tsked, his warm palm caressing your bottom.

“Hells, you have been deprived.” He pulled your shift down, covering you.

“I do not understand.” You frowned, looking at him over your shoulder, still on your hands and knees. “This is right, I know. I have seen animals do it.” Your tone was of absolute confidence, petulant, even. To you, it was one of the facts of life. The sky was blue, the sun rose in the west, and fucking was done on one’s hands and knees, with the man behind you. It cracked Daemon out. He snorted, hands still busy fixing your shift. It soon turned into a full-blown belly laugh, at your icy glare.

“Poor little wife, your previous lovers have done you wrong.” He palmed at your ass. You hated how the warmth of his palms made you shiver. Good gods, how was he so warm, barefoot as he was and in only a linen shirt? You wanted to kick at him, at the offense of your virtue, perhaps make an icy comment, but you were frozen in shame. “Unless…” Daemon’s hands moved to your stomach, urging you to get up on your knees. He pressed a kiss to your exposed nape when you did, as if rewarding you. Stubbornly, you tried to escape his grip, but he only hugged you tighter. “Oh, what a treat you are… The gift that keeps on giving, zoklītsos.”

“Shut up and get it over with.”

“Don’t be like that, little wife.” He kissed your jaw, tenderly, and when you moved your face away from him, Daemon adapted and started kissing a path down your exposed neck. “You wouldn’t like that, sweet innocent virgin you are. I would tear you apart, and that's no fun.”

“Oh, by the…” You muttered, exasperated. You tried telling yourself that the red of your cheeks was out of rage and not embarrassment. Used as you were at being the smartest one in the room, you deeply disliked how out of your depth you were here. It was not your fault, being uneducated on these matters. Orphaned when you were a lady just flowered, there had been no time for anything else but caring for your siblings. “Why must every woman you meet burn for you?”

“Because I am the blood of the dragon. Heat is in my veins.” He mouthed at your shoulder, this time. His kisses felt like a trail of fire down your body. It was… Waking feelings you didn’t wish to have. Nipples pebbling, hairs standing up, pleasant shivers and all. You breathed in and out, trying to control yourself. Daemon pushed the sleeve of your shift down. “My proper little wife. My ice queen. You will melt, in the end.” He kissed back up and towards your ear, whispering, cruelly. “They all do.”

Your breath hitched. A slip. The first of the night. You could feel Daemon’s smirk against your skin.

“Do you really want to find out how the fire in your veins meets the ice in mine?” You remarked, coldly. It was an attempt at projecting a bravery you did not feel. Bravado. Nothing more. And Daemon could tell.

“Fire can melt ice.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on your throat. With the way he held you, curling and uncurling around you, Daemon reminded you more of a snake than a dragon. You felt as if you were in the grip of a boa, constricting around you, robbing you from your air, leaving you breathless. It was wrong, being so excited at being the sole focus of such a predator. But heat was pooling between your legs, you were getting embarrassingly slick.

“Ice can put out a fire.” You warned, one of your hands going to his silver locks and tugging. You got exactly the opposite reaction of what you wanted. Daemon’s eyes closed, expression turning into a delightful mix of pleasure and pain.

“Only a fool would meet your ice head on.” He kissed your sternum. You remained as still as a sculpture. He tugged at the sleeves, until they gave. There went the dornish shift, ruined forever. You felt a distant rage at having wasted so much gold on it for him to rip it apart. Daemon drank the sight of your exposed chest eagerly, seemingly entranced. You tried covering yourself, but he grabbed at your wrists.

“I think not, Lady Wife.” Then, very tenderly, he pressed kisses to the top of your breasts. You whined, low in your throat. It felt good, and he had no right, no right at all, to get your body to betray you like this. “You see… A tiny flame, if constant, can begin…” Daemon kissed lower, encircling your areola, purple eyes gleaming with mischief. “To melt your ice.” And with that, he took your nipple into his mouth, making you let out a little scream. You squirmed, feeling more wetness gather between your thighs. If you wanted to keep your dignity, you had to get away from him. But Daemon’s grip wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard you tried.

“No… I… Husband… Please. Please.” You begged, shame so deep you were nearly in tears. How it was that easy for him to take you apart, you didn’t know. Despite your pleas, his tongue circled your nipple, his lips making nearly a vacuum around it. His hand came up to pinch at your other nipple, warning. “I don’t want this, please. Just… Just…” But whatever you were saying got lost into your moans, until you were unable to know if you were asking him to stop the sweet torture or give you more of it.

When your tears started to fall in earnest, Daemon let go of your breast with a nearly obscene slurp.

“What is it, zoklītsos? You don’t want the attention of your Prince?” You nodded, and he gave you a mocking little coo. It almost made you think he would stop. Almost. If not for his hands, bunching up your shift until you were exposed once again. Under the candlelight, your cunt glistened with how much wetness you had produced. You tried to close your legs, but he kneeled, forcefully keeping them apart with his torso.

“No. I doubt that's the problem.” Daemon rubbed a finger against your entrance, not putting it in, but just pressing. “I think my little ice queen is melting. A big puddle, she is turning into.”

“You think…” You got cut off by a moan. Daemon had found your pearl, and it seemed he knew exactly what to do with it. “Yourself so smart. Smug…” He pushed a finger inside you, making you yelp, and effectively unable to finish your sentence.

“If you still have coherent thoughts…” He pulled away from you, taking his shirt off. Your eyes immediately were pulled, as if by magnet, to his chest. He had a warrior’s body, muscles all functional. Deliciously broad shoulders, toned stomach with the slightest hint of definition, yet still slender in the way most Targaryens were. Closer to gods, indeed. He bent down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your stomach, making you squirm.

“Lord Husband…” You warned, noticing how his kisses started to approach your privates.

“Lady Wife.” Daemon repeated, with a mocking tone. Then, he curiously pressed a finger against your button. This time, your hips bucked, and you were unable to quiet the moan that slipped from your parted lips. “Such a pretty cunt you have.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Oh, but where is the fun in that, zoklītsos?” He spread you apart, as if opening up the petals of a flower, gentle but so casual. “If I wanted a quick fuck, I would have taken one of your servants, or found myself a whore.” Daemon leaned down and licked a strip over your cunt. In your haste to muffle a scream, you brought one of your hands to your mouth and bit down on your palm until you tasted blood. It was the oddest feeling, a line of scorching hot electricity on your exposed sex. “I intend to enjoy you. As often as I can. That’s why I accepted marrying you.”

“I don’t… I….” You muttered, but you weren’t really opposing him anymore. It was impossible to think about anything apart from what he was doing, of how his heat and wanton ways were starting to warm your blood too. Daemon kept licking at you, making your hips twitch. He was entirely ignoring your pleas, apparently finding great pleasure in the way he took you apart.

You felt like you were burning up, as if something that had been long asleep in you had started to be awakened. Long hidden and forgotten desires that were making themselves known. You found yourself looking down, mesmerized by the sight of the blond shock of hair between your parted thighs and how it bobbed up and down with each eager lick he took. Your hand reached down, tangling in Daemon’s hair, and it was then, you got pulled over the edge.

Daemon would later say it had been the way he had groaned against your pearl, what had made your thighs quiver and tummy tense, an impossible amount of wetness dripping down your thighs. You would say, if asked, it had been the way his purple eyes met yours, mouth still busy at devouring your cunt and face twisted into the most smug and deviant expression you had ever seen. Whatever it was, it pleased him greatly.

“I knew you had it in you. You weren’t cold.” Daemon whispered against your skin, kissing a path towards your mouth. He was unhurried, dedicating lavish kisses to your hipbone, moving to mouth along your belly button, gnawing hungrily at your ribs. Under him, your body went lax and pliant, spent with the first climax you had experienced under his careful touches. “You just needed a dragon to warm you up.” He licked at the sweat collecting in the hollow of your throat, before finally pressing a kiss to your lips.

This time, you answered. You took his lower lip between yours, playfully. You could taste and smell yourself on him, and it was more alluring than what you had ever thought.

“Good.” He said, pulling back. He started to undo his breeches, and you felt panic grip at you some more. This was it. You had to fulfill your end of the deal with him, let him take you. As if he could feel your nerves, Daemon rubbed your thigh, affectionate. “Do not fret, zoklītsos. You will enjoy this, too.”

“It is meant to hurt.” You answered him, pouting. He tapped at your lower lip, gently.

“Put that away, before I have to bite it.” Daemon took out his cock and rubbed it up and down your folds, gathering the wetness. Despite your fears, a wave of desire overtook you. His fingers had felt good, so had his tongue. You wondered if this, too, could be pleasurable. Otherwise, there wouldn't be so many bastards being born in Westeros, right? But you were supposed to bleed. Bleeding was not pleasant, ever.

“I…” You grabbed at one of his hands, holding on for dear life. He may not have been your choice of husband, but he had vowed to protect you under his gods, standing in the sand and mixing your blood with him. Daemon took his valyrian vows seriously. You were desperate for any scraps of reassurance he was willing to give, even if in normal circumstances you would have rather died than be helped by him.

“It won’t hurt.” Daemon said, kissing your forehead. You looked up at him, eyes wide in fear. He squeezed your hand and lined himself up. You felt the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, and wondered what it looked like. It felt blunt, and it was very warm. “I will do it on one thrust, like ripping a bandage off. You probably don’t have your maidenhead, with how fond you are of riding. And if you do, you are more than wet enough.”

“Lady Manderly said it hurt her, the first time.” You pouted again, and this time, he did good on his promise. He leaned down and kissed you, biting at your lower lip playfully.

“She has a fool for a husband.” Daemon muttered, kissing your ear. You shivered, nearly mewling. You weren’t aware of how sensitive you were there. “Trust me on this. I know more about it.”

“Taken many maidenheads?” You remarked, with a hint of a teasing smile on your lips.

“Jealous, ice queen?” Daemon licked a strip down the base of your neck towards your jaw. “You will have to admit you know little of the topic.”

“I would say I know plenty.” You answered, glowering, just as he thrust inside of you, seemingly tired of the conversation. At the sudden feeling of fullness, you yelped. But there was no pain, as he had promised. Only an odd feeling of being stretched and filled to the brim, and a slight discomfort. “Rude.”

Daemon smirked. He stayed still, letting you time to adjust. You took a deep breath, and shifted to rest your weight on your elbows, to take a curious look at where you were joined. To your disappointment, you could only see a cloud of light hair, mixing with yours, hips impossibly close.

“Did it hurt?” Daemon flicked at your pearl, absent-mindedly. He groaned when that made your walls tighten around him.

You glared.

“No.”

“You silly girl.” He laughed, starting to thrust. The friction felt good immediately, and you moaned, grabbing at his shoulders. “And you thought fucking could only be done on your hands and knees.”

You didn’t answer, choosing instead to cling to him, mouth falling open in moans you were unable to keep quiet anymore.

“Fucking is a pleasure.” Daemon insisted, pinching at one of your nipples, You whined. He could be telling you the secrets of the realm, and you wouldn’t care. “And I will teach you all about it.” He grunted in your ear.

You were too gone to care about his smugness. Your heels dug into his back, pulling him closer and closer. You met him thrust by thrust, scratching at his back until your nails were bloody. Daemon kissed you and tugged at your hair, desperate to claim you. You could hear his silent laughter, feel his mocking smile against your skin. He had finally gotten what he wanted, a reaction out of you. It could not be faked, this pure, raw emotion. Soon, his fingers found their way to your button, making you whine and squirm. It was too much for your poor, abused body. You screamed his name as you reached your second peak of the night.

Daemon thrust several more times, practically vibrating with smugness. He grabbed at your body, fingers digging in the flesh, surely bruising your hips. His mouth was slightly parted, and something stirred in you at seeing him so raw. Daemon had been right, you realized. Many moons before, he had said bodies spoke and were honest in ways their owners were not. And so, you let yours speak, tugging at his hair, sucking bruises in his pale neck. Perhaps there was something there, in the way he held you closer, shuddering and spilling himself with a muffled cry. Something that mere lust couldn't explain.

You both laid there, panting. Daemon looked down at you, and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face.

“I think, Lady Wife, that the coldness of the North might just be bearable.”

#daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x y/n #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x female reader

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teatoptony · 7 months

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The Whole Being Soulmates Thing

summary; in this world, soulmates exist. he has one. it’s just that he already found someone, and your marks don’t match at all.

or, in which a stupidly stubborn punk in stupidly in love with someone who’s not his stupid ‘real’ soulmate.

pairing; hobie brown x reader, spider-punk x reader (soulmate!au)

warning(s); mentions of police brutality, not-too-detailed descriptions of injuries. r is non-gendered, no mention of r’s race. not proofread & written in the wee hours.

i am not black, i don’t have wicks. i did some research on how to properly care for them and wrote tiny parts in here with the info i had, but it may not be totally accurate. if something is wring, let me know. same for the lcp.

also hobie might sound a bit ooc but it’s a quiet fic and we don’t rly see him ‘quiet’ so eat my ahh(/j)

inspired by this post by @corrodedcoffeen ! not exactly 100% accurate but yea

He lived in a world full of soulmates and soulmarks.

Everyone who had a soulmate had a soulmark, like a little tattoo; whether it be on their arm, leg, back, even on their face. Sometimes, a person would have multiple soulmarks. In other cases, they wouldn’t have any at all. Some people were born with their marks, some appeared later down the line.

In most cases, people would do anything to find their soulmate. To be with them. To unite with their missing half.

Hobie Brown was among those who’d been born with a soulmate. Four little streaks that wrapped halfway around his left arm, like a scar from an animal that had halfheartedly tried to claw the whole thing off at birth.

Hobie loved his soulmark.

Not because he’d met his soulmate. Nor was it because the idea of a predestined partner made him giddy. No, it was because he felt a sense of pride whenever he looked at it. Pride that he’d beaten the system when he got you.

His thoughts wander as he sits on your your and his shared bed, a towel flat under his bum to prevent any grime that may be on his suit from rubbing off on the sheets. His vest and T-shirt had been haphazardly folded and placed on the bathroom sink, desperately needing a thorough cleaning after a particularly hard day, which left his torso bare for you to assess and repair the damage he’d been dealt once you peeled off the top half of his suit.

“Bit eager, yeah?” He’d joked as you hastily helped him out of his clothes, that cheeky smirk still shining through on his tear-streaked face. You’d answered with an exasperated laugh.

He had come home at two in the morning, stumbling through the window with a hand over the right side of his mask. When he’d ripped it off, tossing it on a random bit of the floor somewhere, you were met with red eyes, wet cheeks, a runny nose and a blood-crusted lip. Apparently, he’d been at the frontlines of a protest when one of the tear gas shells hit him right in the face, cracking his right eye lense and leaving him vulnerable to the gas’s full effect. You didn’t need to be told what happened to know what came next. After all, it was always the same routine with the pigs - gas the crowd and beat any individuals that strayed from the mass.

Now, as Hobie’s fingers tap a little rhythm on the mattress, your hands glide a washcloth long his skin, being careful to minimize pressure on his bruises. Which, granted, is hard when they cover most of his back and ribcage, but you made it work somehow. Tear gas residue sticks to anything it can, and although his body was mostly had been mostly covered, it gave the both of you peace of mind to clean anything off just in case. He thanks you by softly gripping your other hand, his fingers lacing together with yours.

“Need more milk?” You ask, going to put the cloth down and grab the already half-empty sprayer on the ground next to the bed, having already been used in the bathroom just minutes prior and put there just in case. He shakes his head, the hand that’s not on yours gently grabbing your wrist and guiding it back to his chest.

As you continue, he thinks back to the first time he’d held your hand like that.

It was when the two of you were barely teenagers, when he didn’t fully understand how the whole ‘soulmates’ thing even worked, or how messed up it really was. The only thing he really knew was that people were supposed to stay together forever if their marks matched, even if that wasn’t always the case.

Having known each other since you were just kids, he remembers wishing so badly that your soulmark matched his. He had wished that little planet on your ankle could be washed away, a temporary tattoo or doodle instead of an actual mark. He remembers drawing little black holes at the corners of his school worksheets, hoping that one of them would eventually swallow your mark whole and replace it with four lines identical to his.

Back then, he had wished his ugly little bands would somehow arrange themselves into a square. At least then he could insist that his mark was a planet. A weird square one, yeah, but a planet just like yours.

But as you looked at him with that warm glow in your eyes, he swore you were the best thing that had ever happened to him, soulmate or not.

If only that kid could see him now - here, with you.

He suppresses a smile that threatens to slip onto his face, as moving his lips makes the cut sting.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” you mutter, wiping at the last bit of his torso. Hobie lets out a low sigh.

“‘M sorry love,” he says back, giving your hand a little squeeze. He really does mean it. He hates seeing the worry and sadness in your eyes every time he came back to you after one of these days. Fuck knows how he’d cope with it if you came home like this just every now and again, let alone what seemed like every other day recently. “I do try to be careful.”

You hum in response, getting up from your spot and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He does so with little to no hesitation, only waiting a moment to brace himself for the soreness that would follow. You lead him to the bathroom.

“Everything off,” you say, then immediately follow it up with, “Don’t.”

“I didn’t even say nothin’!” Hobie protests, feigning offense. As if that glint in his eye didn’t give it away.

“You need to get cleaned off properly.” You stress the lest word, letting go of his hand so that he can strip. “You can’t just go to bed after a quick wipe-down tonight. You need a shower.”

“But it’s gonna be cold.” Hobie groans. Tear gas wasn’t anything new, he’d had to clean the residue off of himself more times than he could count. That didn’t mean he was a fan of the cold showers that did most of the actual cleaning. Despite his complaints, he hastily steps out of his remaining articles of clothing as you start the water.

His muscles tense as he steps into the shower, pulling him out of his somewhat drowsy state. He quickly scrubs every part of his body, wanting to get out as fast as possible.

He washes his hair out last, taking care to not mess them up no matter how much he hates the temperature of the water. He’d made the mistake of trying to shampoo the whole of his head in one go just once before, and he’d be damned if he had to go running to the auntie down the street again to fix any tangles neither you nor him could sort out.

In his defense, he’d almost bled out just a couple hours beforehand that day. Having your first (superhero-related) near-death experience tends to shake you up a little.

“You’re such a man-baby,” you’d teased him as Hobie gripped your hand for dear life, the woman you’d guaranteed could get that nightmare of a knot out sorting through his hair with an arsenal of olive oil and a wide toothed comb.

“Oh piss off—” his reply was cut short as she detangled a particularly nasty bit of the problem, unfortunately having to tug exceptionally hard at his head. “Ow!”

The woman - Aunt Margaret, as you’d introduced her - tsked at him to sit still, poking at the tangle with the handle of her comb to see if it would give way now. Luckily, most of it did. She muttered something along the lines of ‘young people nowadays’, but in a sort of gruffly affectionate sort of way. From what you’d told him, Aunt Margaret was sort of the neighborhood mom, always helping people who needed it no matter how much she gave them grief for it.

The three of you made small talk over tea after his hair was nice and hairball-free, albeit a little slippery. Turned out, Aunt Margaret had plenty of stories of her own to share. Hobie had been delighted to hear about everything that had happened when she was a part of the League of Colored Peoples, almost ready to practically beg the woman to adopt him.

Two weeks later, when he decided to drop by again, the topic of soulmates came up. Aunt Margaret asked if he’d found his soulmate yet, to which he replied he didn’t believe in the soulmate system. She nodded in agreement.

“Just as well,” she had said, a frown making its way onto her face. “I’ve seen too many good people get their hearts broken because of that bloody mark.” She eyed his upper arm, exposed in the sleeveless top he’d worn at the time. “I got mine covered ages ago.”

“Did you meet your soulmate before that?”

Aunt Margaret shook her head. “That’s a story for another time, Bartholomew.”

He still makes time for tea with her every week or so.

The second he steps out of the shower, he’s greeted with a huge, warm towel fresh from the dryer. He wraps it around himself as you usher him back to the bedroom where you’d laid out some comfy clothes for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the clothes he’d discarded on the bathroom floor is long gone, along with his vest and tee that were sitting on the sink.

“I put the studs out on the veranda to air out,” you say, noticing him glance at the empty sink. “They’ll need washing, though. My eyes got all weird when I looked at the vest too close, and your belt’s not much different. The rest of everything’s in the machine.”

Pulling on his bottoms, Hobie silently nods at your words before pulling the tank top you’d dug out for him over his head. He then walks over to place a kiss on your head. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to leech off your warmth. He lets out a little noise of contentment when he feels you hug him back.

Wordlessly, he walks the two of you to your the shared vanity, plopping himself down on the seat. You grab the hairdryer off the table, checking to make sure it’s okay for you to help before switching it on to dry his wicks. Hobie closes his eyes as you make your way through each piece, eventually stopping once there’s no more water to be purged. Your fingers sorting through his hair so carefully is calming - almost therapeutic, and it takes all his willpower to keep himself sitting straight up for you.

After that, he clumsily grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, ignoring how you yelp in surprise and unplugging the dryer. He then proceeds to carry you around your place, flicking off all the lights before getting back to the bedroom and (softly) throwing you on the mattress.

“Was that really necessary?” You groan as he throws the sheets over the both of you. Hobie then proceeds to drag himself half on top of you, using you as a full body pillow.

“Definitely.” He replies, his voice a bit muffled against your pajamas.

You laugh. “Sure.”

He tilts his head up to give you a goodnight kiss, murmuring ‘dream ‘bout me’ next to your ear to which you respond by playfully pushing him away.

“Rude,” He mutters, smiling into your clothes as he huffs in indignation. Your laugh echoes through your body, a sound more beautiful than any music he had or would ever hear.

He doesn’t fall asleep too easily that night. Rogue thoughts on soulmates and fate flinging about his skull. For some reason, they’d all picked tonight to bug him to pieces.

Unknowingly, his grip around you tightens, feeling your weight in his arms. It grounds him as all the doubts try to throw him off, to destabilize something perfectly happy.

What if they find their soulmate? Then they’ll decide if they want me or them. (Me.)

What if I find my soulmate? What, like I’d break their heart for a stranger? Yeah. Fat chance.

He swatted those questions away like pesky little mosquitoes until he eventually fell asleep, choosing to focus instead on your heartbeat ringing in his ears.

So what if you two weren’t soulmates? He loves you, you love him. That’s all that matters.

The universe can suck an egg.

—

The next morning, Hobie woke up at 11, as usual. You woke up right after him as he stirred, like you always did. The two of you lounged in the comfort of your the sheets for a while before you had to eventually get up for breakfast.

Hobie was trailing behind you on your walk to the kitchen when something catches his eye.

His reflection in the vanity mirror.

Something’s… off.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“Y/n?” He calls, looking down at his upper arm just to make sure the mirror isn’t playing tricks on him. Sure enough, there it is.

You turned around at his voice, eyebrows furrowed in a confused way. “Hm?”

“Look.”

He watches as your confusion morphed into surprise and then back to confusion again. Then you auickly check your ankle, confusion turning into realization.

“We match.”

Your soulmarks had somehow changed overnight, turning into small, stylized sun symbols that stand out more than either of your marks before ever did, clear as day.

It’s a few moments of stunned silence before laughter breaks out between the two of you.

“You know what we have to do now,” you manage, an arm around the front of your midsection and the other hand on your face.

“I think I do.” Hobie says, practically wheezing

By the end of the day, the two of you have covered up your new soulmarks with mismatching tattoos.

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delusional-mushroom · 2 months

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Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Autism creature reader

Part i | Part ii

Child.

You are everyone’s baby. The only exceptions to that are people younger than you, in which case the sibling certificate is signed and framed on their wall.

For simplicity’s sake, you’re an angel. Maybe an Seraphim or another heaven-born like a throne or a dominion.

You have wings on the sides of you head, and whenever visual sensory gets too stimulating, you can make them cover your eyes.

You used to run into things a lot because of this, until you were a given a service animal in the form of a lil snakey-snake.

His name is Speckle and his sight is linked with yours.

Social cues? What are those? Never heard of them

You and Emily are best friends

Istg Sera low-key can’t keep up with you two

You followed Adam around like a lost puppy one time, and then once he finally turned around to confront you, you only muttered “I wonder if you would be able to fly with frogs instead of your wings” with a faraway look in your eyes

You listen to his music sometimes

Lute thinks you’re strange. But like a funny strange

Emily and Adam are your figit-dealers

You mostly info dump about your special interest to Adam. Lute always brings snacks when she knows you’re coming over because you always make it sound like your voicing over a documentary.

You zone out a lot when your with Sera. If you ever disassociate around her she’ll try to calmly ground you back. I have a feeling she might act a bit ableist without realising tho 😔

Saint Peter also likes hearing about your special interests. Might be a bit judgey tho.

When Charlie and Vaggie came for the meeting, you were Emily’s hypeman through the whole tour.

Sera and Vaggie could not keep up with you three

When the court meeting started, you got yourself a carton of apple juice, believing nothing could go wrong.

When the news of the extermination dropped, you spat out your apple juice and choked on it.

Speckle hissed cuz the juice got on him

You just shut down after that

disassociation here you come!

You only came back when Charlie and Vaggie were already sent back through the portal thingy.

You parroted All of Emily’s questions with an added “yeah, why is that?”

You were questioning everything

“‘Don’t question’ my ass” is what you would have liked to say, if it wasn’t for the fact that your tongue went limp and your head was ringing as you sifting through all of your memories with a new outlook on how fucked up everything was.

You had a breakdown when you got home.

Speckle could feel your pulse rising and tried to soothing you with soft hisses but you were having none of it.

You went behind everyone’s backs and started looking for ways to help Charlie.

Apparantly you weren’t as discreet as you thought because one day, a hole opened up in the cloudy ground, swallowing you whole

The last thing you could hear was Speckle’s distressed hisses in your ear as you fell down towards the smokey, red pits below.

Bro i know this sucked but I’m about to go to sleep and really wanted to write this for some reason. See you all whenever I decide to make part 2.

#fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #platonic x reader #hazbin emily #hazbin adam #Hazbin lute #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin emily x reader #adam x reader #sera x reader #hazbin hotel sera #angel reader #part 1 #part 1/2

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kyemna · 2 months

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Hazbin Hotel Characters Positive and Negative traits

Headcanons

I apologize for any grammer mistakes!

Tw: none

Charlie

Positive:

-Loves to do things for you.

-Also loves it when you bake together.

-Keeps every single gift you give her in a box with rainbows and glitter on it.

-Unironically says 'yo mama' at the wrong times LMFAO

-Plays with your hair or fingers when she's in deep thought

-Brags to her dad about how you're the most amazing partner ever

-Has the most amazing made up stories and fantasies. Talks your ears off with them

-When you're laying in bed, and she wakes up before you, she'll lay on top of you to wake you up.

I'm not kidding. It can be 6 am, and she'll crawl over to your side of the bed and lay her whole body on yours.

-In general, she's super fun to be around.

Negative:

-Overworks herself.

With that, she forgets to eat.

On a few occasions she actually fainted.

-Becomes distant when something's bothering her.

-She can get too swept up in her ideologies/fantasies, that she doesn't see what's right infront her.

-Lowkey controlling, but doesn't realize it.

(I don't think there are many negative things about Charlie to be honest LOL)

Vaggie:

Positive:

-Considerate.

-If she sees something that reminds her of you, she buys it.

-Knows how to calm you down/put you in your place.

-Admits when she's wrong, and knows when to apologize.

-Smells good. I have a feeling she just smells sweet. Like coconut or something.

-A surprisingly good artist?

-Has a great wardrobe. Let's you raid it every once in a while.

-Strong asf. Often lifts you up, and throws you over her shoulder.

Negative:

-Aggressive.

Normally, she has no way of outing it, so she bottles it up. Because of this, she can come over as aggressive, simply because her cup overflows.

-Drowns in her feelings.

-Takes things too seriously.

-She hit you in a fight once, and she still regrets it.

-Also hold grudges.

-Gives you the silent treatment if you did something to her dislike.

Alastor:

Positive:

-Surprisingly understanding.

-I said this once, and will continue to say it, he has AMAZING taste in music. Many of the characters do.

-A great cook.

His mom taught him many recipes, so he loves to make them for you.

-Protective.

-Open minded/open to new experiences

-Intelligent, always knows when you lie.

-Good at boardgames.

Beat you at Uno SO many times, it's getting a little humiliating..

-Aware of your likes and dislikes, whether that be: Music, clothes, topic of conversation, certain foods, and tries to help you avoid those things in your daily life.

-Gets along with your mother very well.

He's always willing to lend her a hand.

Negative:

-Obsessive.

-Has his eye on you 95% of the time. Not in a good way.

-Decides things for you without you asking him/giving him permission.

-does NOT mind his business.

-Not good with kids.

Because he's born in the 1890's he's super old fashioned. Therefore I think he would strike his kids if they misbehaved.

-Doesn't get along with your male friends, and is 'overly' friendly with your female friends, which makes it seem like he's flirting with them.

-He's a murderer. That speaks for itself.

-Blood thirsty as hell.

-A good liar, which makes him seem untrustworthy.

Angel Dust:

Positive:

-Loves grocery shopping or shopping in general with you.

-Notices small changes in your behavior, whether it's due to stress or simply a bad day, and helps you relax/cheer you up.

-Is great at planning dates!

-Also has amazing music taste.

I personally think a few of his main artists are:

Lady Gaga, Kesha, T-ara, Britney Spears and The Weeknd

-Funny as hell. No pun or joke gets past him.

-Great with animals! If you have a pet, he has a nickname for them.

-Unironically calls you 'Pookie' or 'Snukems'

-Has a good memory. Remembers your favorite color, your favorite flower, etc.

-Chases you around the house/appartment with a bug he caught. (Whether that's negative or positive is totally up to you)

Negative:

-Doesn't really understand/do boundaries, so he'll often take things too far.

-Argumentive. He enjoys a good argument or fight, which makes it difficult to find a solution to the problem your fighting about.

-Holds grudges.

-Overthinks the smallest things.

-Secretive. It takes a lot to get him to talk about his feelings and problems.

-Takes his anger out on you sometimes.

-Passive aggressive.

-Borrows your things without your permission, and doesn't put them back when he's done.

Husk:

Positive:

-Funny. Like, his jokes are actually hilarious. Unlike Alastor who makes the most awful dad jokes ever.

-Is so fully aware when your bullshiting him, he just pretends not to know.

-As i said in previous headcanons, he LOVES to dance with you.

He's super good at it too!

Has his hands all over you.

Hips, waist, neck, back, you name it.

-Will never admit it, but he likes it when you sneak up on him/jump him.

-In general he's pretty accepting of physical touch.

-He purrs, when you scratch his ears or something.

-Leaves you small gifts and letters around the house/appartment.

Negative:

-Messy. Has trouble cleaning/keeping things clean.

-Forgetful. Often forgets your dates.

-Anger Issues.

-Snaps at you when he's overwhelmed or stressed. Doesn't apologize for it because he's not aware of it. You'd have to point it out to get an apology out of him.

-Easily irritated.

When you're too close to him, when he's in a bad mood or when you take jokes a little too far, he ignores you for a few hours.

Thank you for reading!

#x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #angel dust #husk #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #charlie #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie x reader #vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie x reader #headcanon

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small-sinclair · 10 months

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Could you do any slashers of your choosing with a S/O that wants cats, a lot of cute kitty cats? Just wondering

Because I feel like it fits with these three the most: Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair

Slashers with a S/o that loves cats

Thomas Hewitt

Him liking cats makes since because he lives out in the country and his family used to have barn cats.

And he used to pet them when he was a kid and play with them.

So, when he sees you come home with a box full of kittens, his murdering heart melts.

He picks up a loud, screaming kitten and cradles it in his big arms, humming happily.

He plays with them when no one is looking, too. Like, he got a red lazier for them to play.

The orange kitten, Curtis, is the one that hangs out with Thomas. He sits on his shoulder like a bird and chirps happily while he butchers and works.

Vincent Sinclair

Yes, he has a dog.

Yes, he also wants a shit tone of cats.

He loves how they sit on his lap and make biscuits, purring loudly, and chirping. He loves it.

He doesn’t want them in his workplace in fear of them getting burned by wax.

If his s/o finds a pregnant cat and bring them back to Ambrose, he’ll make a comfortable nest and make sure the Mama Cat is okay through the whole thing.

Six cats are born, and one of them looks like Vincent: a white car with a black spot on the right side of his face.

You name it Lil Vin.

Lil Vin likes to play with Vincent’s shoe laces and with little paper balls. She’s a playful little thing.

Lester Sinclair

Let’s face it, he’s an animal lover!

When you bring him some little kittens and cats, let’s say 7, the man lays down on the floor with his arms open for the kittens the climb on him.

He stays still as he feels the paws over him, awing at a cat that’s curled next to him to sleep.

He’ll make sure they’re all chipped and fixed, too.

There’s a grey tiger cat that loves to be with him. He’s named it Owl because it fits.

Owl will chase mice and kill them, bring it back to him proudly. He goes with Lester on his rides and will eat out of the kill pit if no one is looking.

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themattress · 4 months

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Untitled Kairi Post

Y'know what? In a way, Kairi was tragically doomed as a character from the very beginning.

"Oh, because she was a love interest and damsel in distress!"

No. Myths, fairy tales and, well, Disney movies have used those tropes for ages, and if you're doing a story where a huge point is the influence of those things, it's kind of a given that the leading lady be a love interest and damsel in distress. And the writing is smart enough to put a twist on the trope given that Kairi's distress is much less than it appeared to be because she's Sora's love interest and he's her's, and after Sora saves her she saves him right back.

"Oh, because she wasn't a playable character or party member!"

No. It would have been nice to have the playable puzzle solving-based Kairi sequence they initially planned at Hollow Bastion, but I can understand why it was removed given how it would slow down the pace following what is perhaps the signature sequence of the game. And in any case it doesn't have any bearing on how things went for the rest of the series, given that Riku also was not a playable character or party member (he just had a crappy AI when pretending to help you fight Parasite Cage all so that he could kidnap Pinocchio).

"Oh, because she was stuck in a coma the whole game!"

NO! God damn it, how much must the game beat the point into your stupid head!?

And who could forget?

Stop laughing right now.

Kairi. Not just "her heart". KAIRI. Since the heart = the person.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, it exposes some serious sexism if one goes with the "Kairi was in a coma" line for KH1 and yet says "Ventus was inside of Sora" post BBS, since it's literally the exact same situation except that Kairi was always awake within Sora's heart as opposed to Ventus only waking up at the end of 3D. It's why Sora felt things regarding Hollow Bastion, why he experienced the memory of Kairi and her grandfather, and why he saw and heard Kairi multiple times. He wasn't hallucinating; that was always really her.

So, enough beating around the bush. What did I actually mean, then?

Well....let's start at the beginning.

Kairi's arc in the original Kingdom Hearts is not just told through the writing. Utilizing a video game as a visual/audible medium, it is also told through animation, voicework and music. During her introductory cutscene, we see Kairi asked by Sora if she remembers the world she was born in before being sent to Destiny Islands. "I told you before. I don't remember." She answers this sincerely. "Nothing at all?" Sora responds. That's when we see this detail.

"Nothing." Kairi is lying. She doesn't remember everything given the trauma caused by being forced out of her old home, but she does remember just enough to understand why it was traumatic. She had a comfortable life there, and a family. She was happy. And then it was all gone in an instant. Now, on Destiny Islands, she is similarly content ("Well, I'm happy here.") and fears risking that same loss. And yet a small part of her still yearns for the past. She loved what she can recall of her past, as she loves her present. She fears only the future.

Riku's fixation on his existential woes and the mysteries of the universe, while also putting her up on some sort of pedestal like she's something special, is not helping at all. Something about it feels wrong to Kairi...wrong and uncomfortably familiar. It's making her very anxious.

But Kairi has someone to lean on and help her keep up an optimistic, cheerful front, perhaps enough to talk herself into believing it: Sora. And during this scene, we hear the track "Kairi I":

youtube

This track reflects Kairi's character in this moment. While there is a subtle undercurrent of worry, her heart is strong enough to not let it get to her and look on the bright side as she looks out to the sun setting over the ocean. With Sora's reassurance, she is able to feel as though her home and friends won't change or go away no matter what happens on her, Sora and Riku's planned voyage, which allows her to feel anticipation for it. All finally feels right.

Of course, things were not right, and Kairi ended up in heart form as her body and soul were lost to darkness along with Destiny Islands. From Kairi's POV, she is now in the Station of Awakening (aka Dive to the Heart) and can do little but watch Sora's adventures as she can see them through his eyes, not fully putting it together why she can and where she truly is.

In the scene at Merlin's House, we get to hear "Kairi II".

youtube

While it's similar to "Kairi I", there is now a more somber and mysterious feel to it given the present circumstances. While she doesn't know if Sora can hear her, Kairi wistfully waxes nostalgic over how Merlin's House reminds her of the Secret Place on Destiny Islands. And while Kairi feels sad over missing that place, she's also happy that there are places like it elsewhere in the universe. She's clearly learning as much from Sora's journey as Sora is.

Finally, we hear "Kairi III" in the flashback with little Kairi and her grandmother.

youtube

And while it starts out reflecting Kairi's childhood innocence, it ends up turning...almost sad. The reason why being one of the most overlooked details of the scene: at the end of the grandmother's story, she disappears, and little Kairi is shown moving her head all around looking for her. This isn't actually part of the memory, but a reflection of Kairi's heart. She knows that she had a grandmother and that her grandmother isn't here anymore, but she can't remember how her grandmother "left". But she at least still exists...within her heart.

Speaking of which, once Kairi's heart returns to her body and Sora loses his heart in the process, Kairi puts her foot down. She may have learned how to better deal with and accept change and loss, but a line still has to be drawn somewhere and Sora is that line for her.

Thus is she able to save him. Later, we see her worry about the future and things changing again when she questions whether anything can be the same between her, Sora and Riku again after the corruption Riku had underwent. Once again, Sora boosts her optimism.

More importantly, he helps her learn, as he does, that even when separated you can take strength in keeping your loved ones (metaphorically) in your heart, and that even if things change and Kairi is cut off from the people and things she loves, they will always exist within her heart, just as with her grandmother and the story she told her about light and darkness.

This is why, in the end, Kairi is able to let Sora go and yet still feel content.

From "Hikari" (JP):

I'll stop doing pointless things like thinking about the future. Today I'll eat delicious things. The future is always before us, Even if I don't know it.

From "Simple and Clean" (EN):

Regardless of warnings, the future doesn't scare me at all. Nothing's like before.

This is a really good, really well done character arc.

It's also a very human character arc.

Yes, there are a lot of fantastical things going on, but when you put all of that aside, what are you left with? A young girl moves away from her old home and everything that she ever knew and loved, which gives her anxiety about the same thing happening with the new home and everything that she's come to know and love from it, which now includes a certain boy. She fears the future; she fears change. In the end, she ends up staying in her new home - but the boy moves away! However, through her time spent with him she's learned to accept this because he'll always be a part of her heart, which is something that won't ever change.

When put that way, it sounds positively mundane, and by and large the KH fandom - and Tetsuya Nomura himself for that matter - don't want or like mundane stuff like that. They want the crazy, the overdramatic, the angsty, the flashy, the anime tropeyness they're familiar with. This is why they were unreceptive to Kairi's arc to the fullest degree, as in many of them are literally unaware it even happened because they were too busy fixating on the archetypal Japanese media-style dick measuring contest between Sora and Riku (which is also far deeper than they tend to give it credit for, btw, but I digress). And if that's the case, then the question gets raised: why bother focusing on or expanding Kairi at all? She doesn't "sell".

THIS is why Kairi was doomed from the start. It's not her fault. But it's sadly the truth.

#Disney #Square Enix #Kingdom Hearts #Kairi #Opinion #Analysis #Kairi Deserved Better #This has been a PSA

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swanpyart · 13 days

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This is probably a silly question, but I really wonder how much the Narrator’s plan for the world when you slay the Princess would realistically be as efficient as he thinks.

Like, will animals die? Not just people, but will ALL life forms stay the same forever? Do the animals know that? Do they still attack each other and try to hunt each other for food? I know the Hunted and the Beast are not exactly representative of animals in this universe, but the LQ and Shifty are both gods who did not really need to play cat and mouse in order to survive, but they did it anyway, so…

What if someone is horribly injured, like to the degree that they SHOULD be dead but now just… can’t. Will they heal automatically? Are they made of rubber, so such an injury would not be able to happen in the first place? What if someone needs a surgery for like, an illness? Will it be impossible to cut them open? If someone has a terminal illness, do they just… have it FOREVER? Cus that would be actually the worst honestly. Imagine getting cancer and the universe freezes, and now you live with cancer for literal ETERNITY. Gee, thanks Narrator.

Also, what about FOOD? So much food relies on killing other life forms. So, if things can’t die, then there’s no more meat (unless the meat is still alive, which would be horrific) or certain plants that require you to chop them down. Can you chop trees down to build houses? Would the tree stump die? Does the tree keep growing even when you chop it up? Do new ones grow? Is there any point where supplies just runs out? Do people even eat anymore? Cus let me tell you, every world culture defines themselves on their cuisine, so I can imagine people would HATE not being able to eat the stuff they used to.

Also, do people keep having kids? Cus if literally no one dies, there will be absolutely nothing from stopping overpopulation in like a hundred years. Or is one of the side effects that, because no one can die, no one can be born either? Well, that’d suck for any parents who were planning to have children when the universe freezes.

I’m sorry, I don’t think Narry thought this through before doing this whole “killing death” thing, which makes it even worse that he fucking died. I know his universe is dying, but at least then no ones gotta live with the absolute buffoonery that is an eternity of weird shit like this.

#slay the princess game #slay the princess #stp the narrator #slay the Princess the narrator #the narrator

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david-talks-sw · 1 year

Note

What are your thoughts on the je'daii? Do they even work, like I find myself irritated by the concept because people often use them to validate/prove the notion that "balance = both sides of the Force"

If you stick to what George Lucas said, in Star Wars a person being "balanced" is someone who accepts their inner darkness and resists its pull nonetheless.

When fans mention the Je'daii, it's usually in the context of:

"The Jedi downgraded from the Je'daii, limited their studies of the Force, refusing to study the Dark Side was a mistake. It was an original sin that caused them to create an imbalance within them."

Which is weird, to me, because the whole point of the comic's narrative is that:

the Je’daii Order’s way was doomed to fail.

Introduced in the Legends comic series Dawn of the Jedi (2012), the Je'daii are the predecessors of the Jedi. They are an order of Force users who studied and practiced both the Light Side and the Dark Side in hopes of finding Balance.

The reasoning is simple: everyone has a bit of good and bad in them, you learn to master the good and the bad sides inside of you, indulging them equally. But while this method seems sound on paper… it didn't work.

Consider that they’re already dabbling with the Dark Side...

... but hey, at least they’re aware of its dangers, they’re trying to be responsible about it.

There's a support system where they all warn each other when they're about to cross a line. But even then, there's many who've fallen and been exiled to a moon, to be rehabilitated.

Suddenly, circumstances compel all of them to use the Forcesaber, a weapon that only activates when you draw on the Dark Side.

And that does something to them. Over the course of a year, they all become increasingly aggressive.

Soon, a faction breaks off because they no longer want to stop using the Forcesaber. They’re addicted to the Dark Side.

A war ensues, at the end of which the Jedi Order is born, a group of Force users who:

acknowledge and accept their inner darkness,

while also striving to overcome it rather than give it power.

So that’s the moral of the whole Je’daii story.

Their idea of "Balance by wielding both" was actually so fragile and difficult to maintain that all it took was a little push for them to become vulnerable to the Dark Side's temptation.

Hell, even after the Jedi Order was established, one of its founders, Master Rajivari - who in Dawn of the Jedi (2012) is framed as a wise ex-general who, albeit strict, spends his days meditating and philosophizing - he goes to the Dark Side too!

Because that's how the Dark Side works.

The Dark Side isn’t just "negative feelings" or a "bad guy superpower" that you can mix with a "good guy superpower" to unleash the ultimate 'Force blast'. This isn’t an anime.

The Dark Side is a drugs/smoking/drinking addiction.

It's selfish, temporary pleasure. The more you consume it...

... the more you get addicted...

... and the more it consumes you right back...

... until nothing remains.

Jon Ostrander, who wrote Dawn of the Jedi (2012), echoed this sentiment multiple times:

“As I see it, those working on the light side work with the Force, channeling it, open and sensitive to what it tells them. They serve it. Those on the dark side try to impose their will on the Force, to make it do their will, to make it serve them. The Je’daii believe in a balance between the light and the dark side and so attempt to use both. Problem is, a balance is hard to maintain and the dark side is so very seductive.” - John Ostrander, LA Times, 2012

“The Je'daii aren't light side or dark side, although they know and are aware of both. Instead they seek a balance in the Force between light and dark. Balance, however, is a difficult thing to maintain and there is always the danger of falling wholly to the dark side — and some Je'daii have done so.” - John Ostrander, Newsarama, 2012

And this is a recurring theme throughout all of Ostrander’s comics, by the way. Be it with the Je’daii, but also with Quinlan Vos or Cade Skywalker, the point remains the same:

"Yes, wielding the Dark Side gives you great power, and you get to show off some badass new tricks...

… but it ultimately destroys you and everyone around you."

Remember: if it weren’t for Cade or Quin’s loved ones, neither of them would have come back from the Dark Side. They aren't badasses because they can use Force Lightning, they're badasses because they found the strength to give that up.

So if you genuinely think the Jedi "downgraded" by refusing to give the Dark Side more power than it already has on them... you're missing the point.

“It’s not about ripping things out of the sky using the Force or Force Lightning. A lot of people, they think “oh look how powerful Vader is, look how powerful the Emperor is, I want to play be the bad guy because I get these powers”. It’s an empty feeling, at the end of the day, after the moment. [...] The Dark Side is a spiral downward that you’re trapped in.” - Dave Filoni, “Force of Rebellion”, 2018

It was an upgrade.

Framing "balance" as "equal Dark and Light Side" is like consuming one (1) salad a day and one (1) whole bottle of vodka and calling that "balanced". No, buddy, that'll kill you. Because:

The vodka is better at being destructive than the salad is at making you healthy.

It's won't stay just one bottle per day. It'll eventually become two, three, etc.

Because as George Lucas stated time and again, resisting the Dark Side is a constant struggle.

So that's my two cents.

You've probably already heard about the recent announcement of a Dawn of the Jedi feature film, a biblical epic that will be directed by James Mangold.

And truth be told... it scares me SO much that we came THIS close to an Episode IX: Duel of the Fates that framed "balance" as - you guessed it - giving equal power to your light and darkness.

Like, how did this ⬆️ get as far as it did? Did nobody think to sit Colin Trevorrow down and explain to him that he fundamentally misunderstands how the Force works?

So all I can do is cross my fingers and hope James Mangold has a better grasp of - if not the lore (I wouldn't be surprised if the words "Je'daii" or "Tython" aren't uttered once in the film) - at least the message.

#incidentally Jon Ostrander is one of the few EU writers who actually *got* the Prequels' intended narrative #je'daii #je'daii order #star wars legends #expanded universe #jedi #jedi order #in defense of the jedi #jedi culture #Dawn of the Jedi #the force #dark side of the force #jon ostrander #jan duursema #dave filoni #meta #QnA

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x011011x · 2 months

Text

Ma Douce Souffrance

Yandere!Rook x Lovesick!Reader Angst

Trigger warnings: Murder, gore, hunting, animal taxidermy, human taxidermy, smut, mentions of pregnancy, hair pulling, uses of nicknames, lowkey stalking, Rook needs a trigger warning of his own

Word count: 11.4k+

IT'S DONE!! IT'S GODDAMN DONE!! And it's GRUESOME. Lowk sexy too cause of the sex scene but yeah. IT'S SO HEARTBREAKING, HEART WRENCHING (unless you're insane, then it's true love)

"They told me this was a beautiful town with beautiful people. And mon Dieu, were they truthful!" he spoke excitedly, cupping your lifeless face in his hands, eyes glimmering.

You didn't know about much outside of your hometown.

But, it was a peaceful life. The village where you had spent all your life was beautiful. It was abundant in flora and fauna. Most of the village was situated upon a great river that stretched beyond what one could see. Valleys covered with fog swirled around the other side of the village as though it was wrapping the land in a tight embrace, restricting the sight beyond.

The town was remote. The connections it had with the outside world were mostly made because of economical reasons. But this town itself was quite developed, anyone choosing farm work only choosing it for tradition. People were joyous and the celebrations were lined up one after the other. No faces were left unknown, a certain habit of chattiness present in almost every resident in one way.

That was how you spent your dull, empty life till then. Seeing the same old people every single day with very rare variety.

'It's odd', you thought, looking into the distance while walking through a part of the vast forest that seemingly only you knew of. It was one of the rare reliefs from the boring circle of life you had been trying to get used to since the day you were born, filled to the brim with all sorts of eccentricities.

There was a lone cabin that resided at the very end of the woods, but you never saw anyone there. Forget the rare occasions where outsiders came to visit, you never even saw any residents in that cabin. You had knocked on the small wooden door several times before, hoping to hear a voice from the inside. To see who this cabin belonged to.

You realized your attempts were futile when your curiosity got the best of you and after two patient years of visiting without a response you opened the cabin door that never had a lock in the first place to take a peek inside. To no surprise, the cabin was completely vacant. It barely had any furniture and was completely devoid of the sign of life. It was apparent no one had set foot in this cabin for many years. But, it stirred your interest in that cabin further.

You visited that cabin everyday since the day you saw it during one of your solitary walks.

That cabin, mostly covered by a mist like most of its surroundings, was situated on top of a small hillock. One couldn't see how it truly was without climbing up to it. At first glance, it was a simple two-storied cabin. There was a small set of stairs that led up to the lodge which was placed on a higher platform. The main structure was situated within the balcony that went around the whole cabin. The cabin seemed to be mainly built of wood, with some uses of rock seen here and there.

The inside, being mostly empty, still did have some oddities laying around. A worn out sofa at the corner of the room, on the left from the entrance. A glass table a bit further away. A staircase on the right side of the room that led upstairs. A kitchen just beyond the staircase, separate from the empty caricature of a living room and… No.

You had scanned over those things more times than you could care to count, so much so that your eyes became almost tired of seeing the same thing again and again. Your interest lied in other things that were there.

'Really, it's so peculiar', you thought. Those empty mounts, each lacking a head. Those empty cases hung on the wall, obviously meant for hanging either guns or arrows and bows. And the most odd of them all, in your opinion, an album.

You found the album upstairs, a floor that seemed like it was meant to be used as a bedroom, but just like the so-called 'living room', the very bareness of the room put the word 'bedroom' to shame. The only things the room had were a single bed with a white mattress and pillow. Even then, the bed had no bedsheets and the pillow wasn't covered by a pillow case.

Beside the bed though, was a small side table. The first time you came into this cabin, three years ago, you took a note to yourself to not open the two small drawers of the table, choosing to respect the privacy of the people you didn't know. You did well on that note for precisely five months. 'No one has yet to appear. Might as well just look.'

An almost ear-piercing screech ran through the air, the drawer stuck from clearly not having been opened in a long time. A huge photo album sat there, covered in dust and debris. A few bits were, you could connect, insect faeces and remains. It disgusted you in a childish way, so much so that you returned back home that day. Next day, you appeared with tons of cleaning tools. It was clear to you that if you wanted to spend more time, inspecting that album and just generally enjoying your time alone in a place that piqued your curiosity, you really needed to clean things up around there.

You spent the whole day cleaning the cabin. You dusted the stray leaves off the stairs, mopped the floors, wiped the tables and the counters in the kitchen. Everything had an appealing glimmer to it by the time you were done. Pleased with the sterile scent of cleaning products burning your nostrils after you were done, at the very last, you wiped the album of the dirt it had collected over the years it had been abandoned. Finally sliding your gloves off with a smooth motion, you took the album into your lap.

'It has to be empty', you tried reasoning. There was no reason for it to not be empty. From the previous day, the first time you saw the album, you hoped it would be just empty. This lodge belonging to someone, and you not knowing that certain someone scared you. Your heart started beating faster as you slowly opened the first page of the book, anticipating nothing yet almost fearing there would be something. And there it was.

Upon opening the first page, you were greeted with a picture of a young boy. Your heart started thumping. 'Is this the child of the owner of this place? How old is he now? Why have I never seen him?' your heart held all sorts of uncertainties. Suddenly it felt like someone was watching her. Your heart felt heavy, as if someone was tightly and painfully gripping it from the corners and trying to displace it from its rightful place within your ribs.

Yet, your soul of curiousity turned out to be a greater vice than the threat that lied in suddenly being found out. Because 'This fear is irrational anyways, no one came over for years. Why would they come out to question me now?'

Since then, after a long day at your farm, everyday at the brink of dusk, you would return to that mist-covered cabin once again. It became your usual spot to relax and spend time by yourself. you never told anyone about the spot, opting to bask in the serene and peaceful nature all by yourself. You maintained the cleanliness of the cottage, cleaning it up twice a week. you put sheets on the bed and a pillowcase for the pillow.

You put on decorative mats on the tables and side tables around the cabin. You even placed a small flower vase on the bedside table upstairs. You placed a few lilies in the vase. And though they kept wilting, you were happy to replace it again and again. You left some dry foods to snack on in the cupboard of the kitchen. A fruit basket filled with red, ripe pomegranates was also left on the kitchen counter. With that, you had customised the once abandoned cabin enough for it to be a suitable place to spend time in.

But your eyes were mainly somewhere else. You had taken to observing that album everyday. It felt eerie. The people in the pictures must have been still alive. To think you were looking without none of them knowing. You felt like a criminal and knew you had to stop.

'But do I?'

And so still, you turned the rough pages. It was more of a scrapbook than an album, the pictures placed messily with a glue. Yet, the further the album progressed, the cleaner the placement of the pictures became. 'The person who placed these pictures was growing up, huh?'

Those photographs left a lot to be deciphered, yet a lot was clear. There was mainly one person present in the picture. A young boy with blonde hair and eyes as green as the forest you were in, a happy-go-lucky grin plastered on his face. From his youth to his mid teenage years, he had long hair and freckles. The boy was tanned and wore torn clothes. A sudden transition showed that he had grown up quite a lot, his hair in a neat bob cut and his freckles were gone. It even seemed that he had updated his wardrobe.

In his last picture, he was with 2 people and a cat with flaming ears. 'Ah, he must be a mage, we don't see much of those around,' you remarked mentally, impressed.

You learned a lot through the pictures. The boy seemed to be from a family that was collectively fond of hunting. There were guns and arrows present in the pictures. Some photographs also seemed to be memoirs of a hunt. The scenery in the background always seemed to change, switching house to house. It seemed that he had five siblings, based on how similar he and the other five children often present in the vignettes looked.

The more you learned, it seemed to be a fuel for your fire than an ease to your nerves.

You found yourself looking at pictures of the boy who had grown into a young man while longing to know his name.

And like a routine, a clockwork that maintained its time dutifully everyday, you were once again returning to the cabin in the woods. It felt a bit different today. The animals were a bit noisier, as if they were alarmed of a predator lurking around. But, you assumed it was just between the animals, nothing to do with you. You climbed the stairs to the cabin and turned the lights on. Light music played from your phone that was in your hands.

It was… normal. Just like any other day. The sofa and table were where they were meant to be. The mounts and wooden display box seemed normal-

"What is that bow-arrow doing there?"

Your eyes bore into the wooden case that seemed to suddenly have a bow and an arrow placed there. 'Did I put that there?', you pondered, and then came to the conclusion that you must've. For all the things you had decorated in this second home, you must've not kept that one thing empty and soulless. In your hasty inconsideration, you missed the small droplets of crimson splayed on the blade of the arrow as you made your way upstairs.

That's when the real shock came. The bed was as organized as ever, so was the small side table. Yet, there was a charger laying on the table that you had not seen before. It wasn't yours, that was for sure. And then, there was also a suitcase on the floor, neatly placed there as though it was just a decoration piece and not used for carrying clothes and other necessities around during travel. you couldn't believe your eyes.

"Who the fuck…?" you couldn't keep your thoughts to yourself out of pure disbelief.

That same feeling of being watched came over you. Yet, this time it felt like someone was truly chasing you from the behind, and was quite close to catching up to her. Your heart beat so harshly against your chest that a numb pain spread throughout your upper body. your head throbbed in panic of the unfamiliar. The light rhythmic beat of the music seemed to match with the throbbing in your ear.

Five years. It had been five years and this cabin had no sign of life except for that curious diary. Not before you gave this cabin life, the title of secondary but still home. What were all these now? It became clear to you that the bow-arrow was most probably not placed by you. you made quick on your feet and ran to the kitchen. You were overstimulated enough that the mere sound of your shoes sliding against the floor as you ran sounded like a static screech to your ears.

The static reached from your ears to your head, all of the thoughts you had further sounding jumbled and pitched in either tones much lower or higher than your usual note. You blinked your eyes at the beef jerky laying on the kitchen counter. If it was home, you would just grab one and eat it like it was nothing but 'I have never bought beef jerky here.' you were almost tempted to push aside your suspicions about everything and think that you did all of that and just didn't remember but you really didn't bring any of those things you saw in the cabin.

You just knew one thing. Someone came into the cabin, placed all of these odd things here and it was not you.

You felt that you were not welcome anymore by whoever currently residing here. Turning on your heels to lead yourself back to the entrance that was also the only exit, you froze. A slight sound of rustling came from the outside before the door turned. A man stepped through the door frame with his eyes to the ground, but merely a second passed before his eyes locked in with yours. A vivid image flashed through your vision. The smiling boy in those pictures…

There stood a man with blonde hair and eyes as green as the forest you were in, a happy-go-lucky grin plastered on his face. The boy from those photographs.

Observing you for only a few moments, moments that were stifling to you, he opened his mouth, chirping, "Ah, you are the person who took care of this cottage in my absence? Merci!"

His friendly voice cooled your nerves a little. So, you weren't hallucinating and this was a person and not a ghost. But, that realization almost made the situation more awkward. You croaked out an apology, "Oh- um, yeah… Sorry, this cabin is yours, I assume."

"My family's, yes," he explained, his eyes almost twinkling and looking through the miniature house excitedly even though he was essentially talking to a trespasser, "We have many abodes across Twisted Wonderland, but what a shame! It's rare we get to use any of them. Most of us just live in Sunset Savanna."

He then looked at you and said, "You have taken care of this place magnificently! Oh, but it was brimming with radiance and love the second I stepped in even after so many years!"

You kept looking at the man and offered him a disoriented smile, waiting for your eventual cue to leave. But, he was interesting. No other person you knew would take to a stranger managing their home so well. If anything, the man with an odd bob-cut in front of her, was actually pretty friendly. He was babbling about something but you didn't really understand what he was talking about, he was talking so fastly.

After a while, he came to a pause and exclaimed once again, "Ah, where are my manners? I should introduce myself first. My name is Rook. Rook Hunt," he introduced himself and offered his hand in a suave manner.

Your heart skipped a beat. Not because you were falling in love with this random man but because for so many years you longed to know his name. And then you knew it. His last name too, which meant you had an idea on what the names of the other members in his family could be. A genuine, happy smile bloomed on your face as you introduced yourself as well, your hand joined his one in a cheerful handshake, "My name is (Name). I live in this town."

He smiled widened when he heard your name. It felt as though his pupils widened. The tall man looked like a child as he shook your hand in excitement. His happiness was charming. You let go of his hand though you felt as though if you could, you would keep holding onto it. You opened your mouth to confess what you had done in the cabin in the past years. Your eyes blinked faster and your mouth gaped, a bit hesitant to admit to your fascination for the man. But at last, you admitted, "That album… that young boy was you, wasn't he? I've been watching you for years."

Rook looked a bit shocked, which you grimaced at. But, you were glad to see the smile return on the man's face. It seemed as though the other man did not even consider that you were practically stalking him for so many years without his knowledge. He answered honestly, "Oui, it was me. You have a good eye, Trickster!"

You were a bit confused about the nickname but decided not to query him about it. you moved closer to him, not to approach him but the exit and nodded, "Thank you. But, I've overstayed my welcome for about three years now. I'll be then."

The man suddenly grabbed onto your wrists. You were surprised at his strong grip, your (E/C) eyes widening in a small panic. You looked down at where he held you. His forearms were well built and sturdy. Strong enough that it could crush your windpipe without much problem. But when you looked up at him, he was still smiling. It was odd though, he felt so genuine, yet it seemed as though his face lacked something. And you couldn't point out what.

"I won't hold you back right now but do come to visit. I'm on a private work tour. But since someone knows already, I'd rather have company," he explained before pausing. He pondered a bit on what to say before adding with a hearty chuckle, "I'll tell you more about myself, Trickster, I can see you're quite passionate about this cottage and well me. I'm quite familiar with and fond of those qualities."

He sent you off with a wink and a pat on the shoulder. And you were frankly left wondering what the hell was up with him.

It had been perhaps a week since the man who introduced himself as Rook had started staying in the cabin. He said his tour would last half a year. You wondered why it would take that long. You hadn't properly visited that cabin since that day, but when you peeked by during daytime, you could see the cottage was completely empty. And if you peeked by during the evening, you didn't know how but it seemed that the mere sound of your footsteps compelled Rook outside, as he always waved at you. Then you'd have to stop for a while to chat, but never once enter the cabin.

You were in the forest again, walking through the greenery and enjoying the gentle sunlight peeking through the trees just before it would blend into the cold evening. A basket in hand, you were in search of berries. You looked through the plants and were saddened to see empty bushes. You found a poison ivy plant and oddly enough, you felt compelled to eat it. But you brushed that thought away with a light giggle.

Out of nowhere, a rough hand placed itself on your shoulder. You were shocked, jumping as you looked behind your back. The smiling face of Rook greeted you, his lips parted to show a set of perfectly placed, pearly teeth. You sighed of relief as you scolded him in a light-hearted tone, "Rook! You scared me!"

"My apologies, mon amour" he snickered, heartfelt amusement seeping through his enigmatic green eyes. "May I inquire as to what you're doing?"

"Berry picking," you deadpan, pointing to the empty basket, "Unsuccessfully so, as you can see."

He looked curiously down at your basket. You wondered what he felt so excited about from it, seeing as it was completely empty, representing the desert more with its sandy hue rather than something meant for carrying berries of different tastes and colours. He then looked back at you and offered, "Such a shame that you haven't been able to acquire anything yet! Would you like me to assist you?"

At that time, you awkwardly agreed to his offer of assistance. Now it seemed like he was doing all the berry picking and you were doing all the berry eating. He was going on about a topic, the concept of beauty or something as you both walked through the woods. You were listening to him carefully, trying to understand what he was talking but he just talked way too fast. He had a certain sway in his steps, seeming like a little boy as he pranced through the bushes.

"Ah, Trickster, don't you think today is a most wonderful day!"

"I mean, it's just any other day. The forest looks fine an-" you wondered why he was so amazed by a common day, "But what do you think? You like sunsets?"

"Of course! The sun is setting and blending into the sky, signifying the death of a day. Yet for chicks, this is the time that birds return home and feed them, which continues their cycle of life–" he said in one breath, "Don't you think a scene that reflects the cycle of life is most wonderful? I feel as if I'm upon the highest clouds whenever I behold such views."

"You…"

"Hm?" he looks back to see that you were cracking up. You burst out laughing, the loud sound echoing throughout the forest. "Ooh, it seems I have amused my Trickster!"

"It's just-" you said through gasps as you tried to catch your breath instead of continuously laughing, "It's so funny you see it that way!"

"May I ask why?" he asked, interested in hearing your opinion.

"It's just… I've never seen it in such a... romanticised manner. To me the sunset has always been beautiful, but not meaningful in that sense. And the birds? I've never considered them. I'm no poet, Rook. I'm a farmer's girl, like most people here."

"So you see no point in examining beauty? It's much the opposite to me."

He handed you over a few berries while he put plenty in the basket. You plopped the small blueberry in your mouth while you walked, pondering on what to say, "That's true, I've noticed you're a very mindful person."

"Mindful is not the most commonly used word when describing me."

"Then what is?"

"Creepy," he laughed softly after saying that, seemingly amused by the things people said to him.

"I don't think you're creepy!" you stopped to think what you could add, slightly offended by what other had said to this eccentric but very sweet man, "If anything, I'm creepy for coming into your cabin without permission for three years"

"And yet, you're what gave that lodge a lively touch. A soul," his face warmed, his eyes looked like he truly believed his own words by heart

Maybe it was the sweet flavour of the berry that had you in an already good mood because it felt like the gears in your heart had moved a little that afternoon. It would be a lie to say that the man wasn't good looking and it left you a bit red-faced to receive a meaningful compliment like this for the first time. You mumbled out a thank you as you kept following him, not knowing where he would go.

"Where are you going?" you called out when he had gotten too far, confused by his motives that seem to be concrete and yet you knew nothing of them.

"Patience is a great virtue!" he replied back, eventually starting to run. You didn't know where he was going but you ran too, for the berries and for him… Mostly for him.

That day, he brought you to the cliff of the hill, not your usual place to watch the sunset as you had done so from the cabin for the past few years but the view that day was gorgeous. Blue and orange blended into the sky from two sides while small streaks of pink could be seen lightly placed on the clouds. It swirled around in a beautiful spiral.

When asked about it, while you didn't say much except how the wind looked 'hella crazy', Rook went on another poetic ramble about how ,"The spiral represented the spiral that goes upwards or downwards of a human's life in a sickly yet beautifully painful way, shown through the divine medium that is the sky. A promise from the Great Sevens. An enticing message. It even represents beauty beyond humans, the very galaxy we live in being quite spiral-like in shape. How très bien!"

That day, for the first time in your life, you felt moved. You felt like you saw someone who was truly living. Some shackled with work? Sure, but they didn't let that work shackle their heart.

That's the first time in your life you felt free as well.

Just like that, you and Rook became… friends. He was an odd man. But he was passionate and funny. Quite handsome too, you'd have to shyly admit. You noticed that it was actually a habit of his that once he started talking, it was hard to make him to stop. But he filled your lone days with sweet and wonderful memories. He had told you that it was a private job that he was here for, and that's why you told no one about him being here. You wanted to tell everyone about the new person in town, but you made an oath and you felt the need to do good on it.

He really was a hunter, too. Everyday, he would come back with his hunts. You'd scrunch up your nose in posh scrutiny as you saw him kill and gut those animals. And then eventually forget all the complaints you had when he served up delicious food on the table. It was a bit hard to explain to your parents why you stopped having dinner with them, but you managed just fine.

On a common sunny day, he was placing the head of a moose from a recent hunt on one of the mounts after hearing you complain about how the mounts had no purpose at that point. You really wanted him to remove the mounts themselves but he insisted that adding animal heads would be better. It creeped you out but you swallowed it. It often truly did send chills down your spine how easily he killed animals and mutilated their body in various ways.

You understood the need for nutrition but hunting was like a passion to him. Something he was truly invested in. But you were, true to the very core of the phrase, a curious being by nature. As such you kept returning to him to learn more about him, the man you had been observing for three long years of your mere 19 years of life.

Honestly? It was hard to get anything out of him. The green eyes beauty marched completely at his own pace. You could ask him a question and while he was never rude about it, never once showing an ounce of contempt, if he didn't want to answer your question, he would simply start talking about something else. It made your heart long to know more about him. It confused you, really. The questions you asked were rarely personal.

Yet, he became weirdly coy when asked about himself. Even though he didn't seem shy by nature.

You were stirring a pot of penne pasta as you were looking at him placing a head on one of the mounts. At that point, only one mount was left. You wondered what could be hung there as you served his plate. Once again, you smiled a little at how much you had to put on his plate. The first time you made his plate while he was doing something, he smiled sheepishly and told you that it wasn't nearly enough to sate his appetite. After you were done plating, you called out to him, "Rook! Dinner's ready."

It had been four and a half months already since Rook came to town. His job being a secret for whatever reason, you were the one carrying groceries for him from town with the money he gave you. You'd often think that he was stacked, not even worrying about ordering the pricier things in town in favour of making delicious dinner together for the both of you.

The fact that you had a mission to carry his groceries to his place meant you were over weekly. And the fact that you were dying to know more about the man who suddenly appeared in town without a soul knowing about him meant you were over everyday. He liked it, he said. He was never the one to turn down having a partner during leisure, you weren't there anyway when he was out on his job. "It's most magnifique to have the company of a beautiful woman at the end of the day," were his exact words.

While you had originally smacked him on the shoulder for saying that, it was his sweetly-spoken poetic words that attracted you more towards him. It brought you closer, in a sense. Just the way he spoke, the way he looked, the way he carried himself– it was so attractive. Le chasseur d'amour, he liked to call himself, was much of a prey of love himself, too. Well, not to others, who couldn't overlook the fact that he was mostly composed of bizarre personality traits rather than normal ones.

But to you? He was a dream. Why? Because he truly had been a dream, or rather- a medium of your fantasies and thoughts for so long.

You stared at him as he sat down in front of you. Observing that sickeningly sweet, smiling face of his. He looked better with his hair tied back, that's for sure. He said a dear friend of his once stated that bob cuts were high fashion. You had to suck it up that Rook heeded his friend's words over the fact that he would look much better with longer hair. Even better with your fingers laced through them, but that's a conversation left for some other day.

"Your face always looks like it has something missing," you say to him, laughing at the same observation you have made over and over again.

His eyes move up to yours and crinkle in curious delight, "Oh lá lá, you're going to have to explain yourself after saying something like that."

"I don't know," you sighed blissfully, still observing his face as he looked back at you, cutlery in hand. You put your own fork down to lean your face against your hand in thought. You always tried to figure out just what was missing, yet it seemed as though you couldn't. His radiance was too bright, almost enough to pierce your eyes and blind you of the dangers of a stranger. "I suppose it's like a puzzle that has been solved and while the image is complete, it seems as though an entirely different photo would suit the theme better."

"You're suggesting I should get a completely different face?" he asks, chuckling in amusement.

"No! But… you're always either smiling or curious… I was thinking another type of expression would suit you better. Make you look less… incomplete."

"And what do you think that expression would be?"

You struggle to answer that, scratching your head, "That's the thing. I can't figure it out."

The blonde smiled at you, knowingly but you didn't understand what he knew, and if he did, the young man probably wouldn't tell you now if he didn't tell you already. Talking extensively about something else when asked a question about something he didn't want to answer, that was the nature of the man.

"You might not have much time to figure that out, Trickster," he says suddenly after a pause, his usual cheerful tone sullen with a hint of disappointment.

Your eyes widen in surprise. The random thoughts about him in your brain came to a halt as you stared at him. Your heart starts beating faster, already expecting the inevitable though you had never kept that in consideration. But you still had a smile on your face, pretending you weren't too affected by the notion, "Ah, you're leaving soon, huh?"

"Not that soon, fortunately. But, I will indeed be leaving in two months. My work here is almost finished. After that, I will enjoy two weeks here and then leave."

"You gotta give me your phone number then, so I can contact you later," you cheerfully request, though your teeth gritted in dismay.

It had been only near to four and a half with him, yet you had become attached to him. It was inevitable in a sense. He was handsome, very charming. Momentarily creepy and odd? Sure. But, he was the most soulful person you had ever seen. He was loving and caring. It scared you sometimes, he could love gently, praising you with flowery words. But then, he could be lovingly vicious too, expressing his dismay when he had to replace the eye of an animal for painted glass to finish his perfect taxidermy.

An unfamiliar feeling bloomed in your heart that you were scared to admit as you hadn't felt it before. It happened so fast that the control you held over your own heart slipped right out of your grip. You looked at him with eyes filled with hope, praying he would consider your request.

The man shut up at the suggestion. Looking at his plate with a neutral, focused expression. It's the first time you saw him looking like that, except when he was gutting a recent hunt. He tapped his fork against the plate quietly, a relaxing and rhythmic tune playing out. You called out to him again, "Rook?"

"I'm afraid that would be futile," he states plainly, before explaining further, "I change my phone number a lot due to my job."

You were opening your mouth to say something but you stopped. You opened your mouth and closed it several times. At last you just kept your mouth shut, thinking you probably looked like a beached fish. You thought about what to say as you reached your chest, clutching on to it. Breathing heavily, you tried calming yourself down but your shoulders felt a weight on them suddenly. A weight they couldn't carry. You looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears that you didn't realize were there, "Do you have to leave?"

"Oui, I have obligations to fulfill."

You observed him silently. You couldn't hold back your tears as they were streaming down your face already. Your face contoured in a way you thought would disgust him. But rather, he put his cutlery down and pushed his plate aside to reach out and wipe your tears away, looking saddened himself, "Non non, don't cry for me, Trickster..."

He stayed silent before leaning in even closer with his whole body. His face close to yours, he whispered, "I'll miss you, too."

You looked at him in shock as he tipped your head upwards, pressing his lips against yours softly. It was a sincere kiss. But with your skill, or lack thereof, you could only kiss back clumsily. But, it felt right. It was your first kiss but you treated it like it was your last. Closing your eyes, tears still slipped down your now reddened face. It felt so good, so right. You lifted your hands to cradle his face affectionately, desperately.

Your first kiss at 19 was taken away by a 25 year old man. And it felt amazing.

After a few minutes of experiencing what felt like a slice of heaven, you came back to reality when he pulled back, smiling, "I'll come back some day, that's a promise."

It seemed the promise upset you further. Promises were just spoken words after all, giving hope but no guarantee that they would be fulfilled. Weeping and whimpering hopelessly, you stood up to come beside him before wrapping him in a tight embrace. "Please don't leave," you begged.

"I'll come back sooner than you think. When you'll see me, it will feel like the time spent without me has slipped in the blink of an eye."

"But-" you tried explaining, but with how you were gasping, your words broke a few times, "I've already spent so much time without you, looking at you without you even knowing my existence. Now that I finally got to have you…"

The tall man smiled softly at your genuine pleas for him to stay. He grazed his hands along your cheeks before leaning down to kiss your forehead, hugging you more tightly. "I know a thousand kisses wouldn't suffice for how long I'll be away… maybe three years, maybe five. But, this time, it will have to suffice, mon amour."

This time, to his surprise, it was you who kissed him first. It was bold of you, considering you didn't know what you were doing. But what you did was out of pure admiration, and something deeper you were afraid to admit. Something known by the name of 'love'. But he smiled through the kiss, lowering his hands from your waist to hold your hips.

The kiss soon turned into a heated, sloppy one. The open mouthed expression of love exchanged from one person to another. You leaned back for a minute for air as he looked down at you, smiling. You wanted to say something and he caught onto that pretty quickly. He asked lovingly, "Say it, mon amour. I can sense that something is in your heart."

"More," you peeped out meekly.

"More?"

"More", you were awfully flustered, trying to look anywhere but him. That was enough for him to know what you meant when you said 'more'.

He picked you up in a bridal style to carry you to the bedroom of the cabin. He was red himself, a serene smile still plastered on his face when he laid you down on the soft bed. For once, the bed actually felt alright. Not because the bed itself was any more comfortable than before, but your focus was on something else. Someone else. He straddled you, leaning down to press soft kisses to your cheeks as he asked, "Are you sure, ma beaute?"

"Y-yeah," you said, your eyes still trained somewhere else. He took a hold of your chin and made you face him, locking eyes. He whispered, "You're gonna have to look at me if you want me to continue."

You nodded dumbly at his soft-spoken command. He smiled and patted your head like one would a pet, "Good girl."

It felt mind numbing to have him call you that. A certain electrifying sense coursed through you when he expressed his approval of you. You held onto his forearms, relishing in the sturdy muscles flexing against your palm. He pressed his thumb against your soft lips and like it was practiced, you opened your mouth. Wrapping your tongue around his finger, you lapped it up submissively.

He chuckled heartily, a sort of laugh that made you swoon. You pulled out his finger with a kiss to his hand to watch him as he started undressing you like you were a Christmas present until you were simply in your underwear. You were scared and shy as it was your first time being so bare in front of someone. But, you had to leave your suspicions aside when he leaned down to press open mouth kisses on your neck.

It felt weird… good… tingly.. So many things altogether you couldn't really say it in one word. The only thing that left your mouth was a pleasured sigh as you wrapped your arms around him. He left a trail of kisses and soft bites till he reached your tits. His calloused hand fondled one of your breasts as he kissed the other. The size difference between you both was so apparent when you saw him up close. He pressed his head against your soft chest, now using both of his hands to gingerly rub circles into your shoulders.

"It's your first time," he stated as he heard the loud thrum of your heartbeat, quite pleased with himself for having the opportunity to take your virginity.

"Is… is that an inconvenience?" you were hesitant despite hearing his cheerful tone.

"Non, non! It is a great honour actually! I will have to handle you way more specially now, would you not like that?"

You nodded and he smiled before lifting his face back up again. He quickly unclasped your bra to toy with your chest once again, pressing and pinching your nipples. You moaned in delight at his small intrusions, your ears reddening and your vision becoming slightly blurry. He noticed that, feeling proud of himself, he started to talk you through it to make the experience more enjoyable for you, "Oh Trickster, it seems you're quite receptive. Such a beautiful girl."

You nodded in gratitude, feeling even better with each passing second. Eventually his hands started lowering before he grabbed onto your hips. He gave it a playful squeeze and chuckled when you pouted from the teasing. The sweet gasps you made as he spread your legs seemed to inspire him as he pressed two fingers onto the outline of your pussy. Your slick had soaked through your panties, which you felt a little embarrassed about but you were so grateful for Rook's touches, forgetting the weight of what had gotten you here in the first place.

He took off your panties slowly, his eyes widening at the sight of your wet cunt, throbbing for his touch. And he complied, rubbing your clit slowly to simulate you. That resulted in your arching your back, the first time you had the chance to actually experience it rather than just imagining him doing it to you like you shamefully had so many times. His thumb worked its wonder on you while two of his fingers slipped inside.

You gasped at the stretch, it was slightly painful but the adrenaline helped you out, the small pain easily blending into pleasure until you were a mess in his grip. Your stomach knotted, you realized you were close. His other hand curled around your neck, yet instead of choking you, he stroked the sides of your neck affectionately. You tilted your head and he reached up to stroke your face as well. The small yet considerate action had you tearing up again, this time from happiness.

You felt like you were on cloud nine, rolling your hips against his fingers that were still pumping into you. The knot in your stomach had snapped with a groan rumbling from right from your chest. He happily let you ride your orgasm, languidly fingering you before pulling his digits out with a wet pop. He plopped back down, licking his fingers as his eyes crinkled in happiness, chirping "You taste so delightful!"

You shyly mumble out a 'thank you'. You dithered a bit, your nervous face didn't match his cheerfulness, far too shy even though you had already gone so far. "How can I return the favour?" you asked, looking at him expectantly for an answer. He raked your hair, a teasing grin present on his face, "That wouldn't be necessary. I'll take the prize myself now."

He said the last line as he grabbed onto your waist and flipped you on your stomach. You yelped, surprised, looking over your shoulder, confused on what he was doing. Suddenly the realization dawned on you, it made you feel a certain type of way. What was the word? It was just in your head yet you couldn't coherently think it out. Quite abruptly, you remembered the word. Yes, you felt elated.

Nervous but elated indeed, as you watched him unbuckle his belt to lower his pants. The print of his shaft made your eyes widen in surprise. Even with a layer covering it, it seemed so huge and thick. And your expectations came true when he finally took it out of its nearly painful restraint. It was a huge cock, thick and veiny with a red, leaking tip. Your heart thrummed so fastly against your chest that you felt like it would burst out any second. You stammered out, full of concern, "Is that… um- is that gonna fit?"

He brushed your silly concern off with a friendly snicker, "That is precisely what I had prepared you for, mon ange."

He lowered onto you from behind, his tip pressed against your wet hole and his oddly soft lips pressed against your ears. You whined at the sensation both of those created, putting a pressure in between your thighs as you rubbed it for some relief. He instructed you gently, so that you wouldn't feel scared, "Close your eyes. Relax. Breathe in slowly and then breathe out."

You followed his instructions. Closing your eyes, you breathed in. But the feeling of his tip slowly entering you from the back had your eyes reaching the back of your skull, not being able to keep it close. It was painful, really. But it felt so good as well, as if this physical connection between the two of you was meant to be. You wailed against the sheets, gripping tightly as tears watered your lash line.

He observed your reactions with a neutral expression, thinking how to help you through your pain. Though it felt so good to be buried in your heat, something he had imagined for months now. At last, the young man reached in between your legs from behind to rub your clit roughly, rolling it within his calloused fingers to stimulate you. It worked because you called out to him so loudly, gasping and heaving, he was sure it would reach the ears of anything in the vicinity.

The tears streamed down your face and so did a string of drool. The older man almost felt a bit disappointed. If there was a mirror in front of you two where he could see your fucked out face, he imagined it would be better. It didn't stop him in the slightest though, thrusting into you in gentle strokes. Your pained moans had turned into those of pleasure since a while ago. Now, you were bouncing up and down on him to meet his thrusts. You were mumbling out all sorts of obscenities, words mixing with the anomalistic sounds you were making till they were barely coherent.

One of his hands had wrapped around your hair, pulling on it lightly yet firmly, the sensation made your shudder, a pleasurably numbing feeling washing throughout your head that matched that of your lower body. It didn't help that he had picked up his pace once he realized you were enjoying it, now slamming into you with quick and sharp thrusts, accurately hitting all the right places inside of you. The knot in your stomach and the coursing passion throughout your body left you feeling breathless and vulnerable. That's when you decided to confess your feelings,"Roo- mmh, ah!- Rook.. I love you", you said, looking back at him.

He was smiling down at you, still rubbing circles on your clit, groans of ecstacy leaving his lips as he thrust into you. He leaned against your shoulder, and said those words back at you, "Me too, Trickster- haah- I love you too," he slurred through his own strings of moans. The knot on your stomach released as you came all over his cock that was still driving itself into you.

You squeezed down so hard on him, overstimulated, you were practically milking his dick of all it had when he eventually reached his own peak too. Through the process of riding out both of your orgasms, a certain air of bashfulness covered you both. He pulled out of your wet cunt, a pleasant expression on his face. Helping you to turn on your back, moving closer to you to take your face into his lap. Rook stroked your face gently, his emerald green eyes scanning through your body.

You shifted uncomfortably as you felt his spent slipping out, whining, "You came inside!"

"That I did," he said, mischievous grin on his face, "It might turn into a telltale sign that you belong to someone else, courtesy of moi. With how cutely you had expressed your feelings in between our little tryst, I'm certain you'd prefer that."

You listened to his words, half concerned yet half considering it. You rubbed your belly in thought and he chuckled at the sight, earning a pout from you. He choked out through giggles, "My apologies, my heart soared a bit too much when I thought how très bien you would look so full of life."

You both chose to engage in fluffy conversation afterwards, even though the matter of him leaving ran through both your minds. And while you didn't know how it felt for him, you could tell that it was a crushing sensation, a numbing pain that spread from your head throughout your body. Your eyes, heavy and burning, yet you decided to drown yourself in the physical pleasure he provided you, not pondering on what was certain.

Half a year had passed in the blink of an eye until it was only two weeks till Rook's eventual departure. It was monsoon already, visiting that cabin had gotten harder now like it did everywhere. But, those previous years, you visited though you had nothing except your own curiosity to look forward to. Now you had someone special. Someone special who thought you were special too, and looked for you. Balancing on the slippery layer of mud that was draped over the hillock, you continued visiting daily, deriving a certain type of relief from being able to see his face and feeling almost lonesome that you'd lose that opportunity quite soon.

You sometimes wondered what was the true meaning of power if it was all wasted on laborious farmwork and not at all useful in keeping the things that were meaningful to yourself? You weren't a mage like Rook, a lot of things available for you at the click of your fingers. Everything you did was pure hard work, yet when it came to making him stay, you were completely useless.

Rook had changed considerably too, not in a way you minded, you'd suppose. He'd sometimes stare at you, a blank expression on his face when he did. When asked about it, he'd say with that loud guffaw of his, "I was simply enthralled by your beaute, Trickster!"

When he was not silent observing you, he had also become more physically affectionate. Hugging and kissing you more and more gradually. It was hard to explain to the pharmacist, who you knew, why you needed so many packs of condoms, but you concluded that it was just a dare. You had barely escaped a pregnancy spent solitarily once and you wouldn't risk it again.

But that aside, something was certainly wrong. His gaze on you never held even a single ounce of malice yet it often felt sickening. Oddly sickening yet lovingly so. You didn't know what caused you to feel this way and you mostly didn't notice, the feeling only creeping up on you every once in a while. Mostly, you were too engaged with your small blooming romance and saddened with how it'd come to a pause as soon as it got the chance to properly flourish. But, the peculiar changes in his behaviour still peeked through from beyond all your concerns, woes and small pieces of delight.

There were also changes in his behaviour regarding hunting. Previously, he was very interested in doing taxidermy and placing the heads of his latest hunts in the form of a pristinely preserved show-piece. Yet, one mount in the living room remained empty for far too long than what was unusual of him before he started on a new project and when asked about it, Rook would often make the same face as he did when he was silently observing you.

You were packing his suitcase despite his protests, sitting on the floor when you caught him staring at you once again, still shirtless. Your eyes scanned over his toned, muscled torso to his hard and hard chest, observing his attractively muscled arms as you went before stopping at his face. You chuckled sheepishly, "What is it this time?"

It seemed as though your voice had broken his line of thoughts, he looked at you with more focus, answering without his usual cheery face, "Just thinking how long I have to spend without you."

His sombre tone made you stop in your tracks, leaning against the wide open edge of the suitcase thoughtfully, you wondered what to say back, finally asking a question he had never answered before, "What do you even do?"

He took a deep breath in and then sighed. Laughing momentarily, clearly out of awkwardness till the dull expression once again returned on his face. 'Those eyes don't belong to someone like him', you caught yourself regretting ever asking him, as private as he was, but thought it was important for you to know. He stood up to approach you, sitting beside you as he stated, sounding deflated, "Well, my profession is that of a spy. A family trade, in a sense."

You hugged your knees as you looked at him, not being able to believe him yet at the same time believing him full on. It was hard to think what you could ask to keep the conversation going when all you wanted to do was stare at him. Maybe yell at him for keeping this a secret from you. At last, you decided to ask gently, "What were you doing in this town?"

"I was sent here to investigate whether a certain cartel from the Shaftlands operated here or not. There were several reports made which led me to take my time with this investigation but fortunately this town is safe," he ranted straight before hesitating, his breath hitched as he continued, "I already have jobs lined up, one longer than the last. In my teenage years, it was rare I saw my whole family together and now I barely remember the last time I had seen them, without a doubt it has been over two years."

You watched him as he spoke, hands snaking around his, leaning in and brushing against the side of his hand. You whispered, knowing he would still hear it clearly, having the acute sense of a true predator of the jungle, "I wish I could stay with you forever."

"I was thinking of a way for that as well. For a while now actually" he said, his voice sounding dead for a second, dropped to a low pitch you had never heard before, never once malicious but rather hurt, and confused, but determined.

At that time, you were overjoyed. Ignoring his tone as it turned all flowery in the matter of a second. You started to straight up expect a marriage proposal. That never came but the monsoon surely did in its full glory. The rain strong enough to wash away any footprints and any DNA.

The sky was grey though it was barely afternoon. It had been raining once again, with an addition of thunders striking this time. You know you shouldn't be walking through the forest at a time like this where lightning could strike anywhere near you, but you didn't care. You watched the cabin, visible from afar. The rain had absorbed the mist that usually surrounded the cabin. You were soaking wet, something that Rook would inevitably complain about as soon as he saw you.

You climbed up the stairs before you were standing in front of the oh-so-familiar wooden door. You contemplated knocking but decided what use it would be, Rook was leaving in a few hours anyways, he probably wouldn't need the privacy that knocking provides. Thinking that, you twisted the knob of the door, the creak that the door made incoherent through the sound of the heavy rain. As soon as you walked in, you saw Rook, sitting on the sofa, cleaning his arrows.

"You didn't do that before?" you asked, curious because he tended to be the more immaculate one in between you two.

"Ah, bonjour, Trickster", he said, a content expression on his face. "I had not, no. But, I might come across a situation where I need them."

You nodded in approval before going down to sit beside him, you leaned on his shoulder and he let you, "I can't believe you're leaving."

"Believe my words, neither can I," he stopped speaking, a bit more quiet than usual and his eyes still trained on his gears as he continued cleaning his equipment. That earned him a light smack on his shoulder as you whined, "Why are you being like this?"

"Whatever do you mean, mon Cheri?"

"So… quiet? You don't seem distant, but you're acting weird."

For the first time today, he looked at you. His eyes held a type of look you'd never seen on him. A bit fanatic, but the rest of his face looked peaceful. It disturbed you at first, not knowing where it came from. He was acting odd for the past couple of weeks, but you think much of it. Now, you wondered if he was hurt from having to leave you alone for such a long time. He hadn't even uttered a word about the fact that you were drenched. But he had obviously noticed it, from the way he looked you up and down.

Rook stood up out of sudden with bow and arrow still in hand, to lock the door of the cabin. He put the keys in his pockets. It was a sign that the cabin wouldn't be opened anytime soon, it was hard to convince the green-eyed man otherwise when he was set on something. You observed him as he moved in front of you.

Often, you could guess what he was doing. But this time, you were confused on why he was doing it.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

Rook often wondered what was the truest form of beauty. He thought beauty could save the world. It was beauty, after all, that created acceptance. Beauty, that sparked curiosity. Beauty, that made the crime even more ugly. Beauty, that lifted the souls of people. So, he seeked out beauty. In his highschool life, he ran around beauties that piqued his curiosity. Vil, Leona… they were right at arm's distance for him.

Before meeting you, he had slept with many girls, in awe of their stunning countenance, but he never knew the beauty of holding love and dedication towards just one person. But, his first love, oh, it affected him deeply. He thought such a beauty could save him, save his soul from the misery of his job that led him to always leaving everything behind to be on duty, a part of him he tried keeping a secret almost completely because of his dislike towards his profession.

Woefully, the end of this love was decided much before it had even started. Much before he picked up that sweet floral smell in his cabin the moment he returned, realizing that a woman would visit his temporary residence. Long before he realized that the said woman also gave this cottage a hint of life, something it desperately needed. Long before he saw you.

He fell in love with you because despite your hesitations at the beginning, you let him in. All his life, he was never accepted for how he was. Called weird, creepy and a stalker. He accepted that he was all of those, quite happily even. A hunter by heart who could easily become a monster the second his thoughts ran astray. It felt nice though, you were a completely different person yet you loved him.

A child who had grown up looking at the trajectory of people's lives as if they were a beautifully framed picture– he knew himself, but it felt like he only knew a shell that was created upon repetitive patterns and not because he truly knew himself, too concerned about everybody else to have a moment of soul searching.

When he found you, he finally felt like the people behind the glass frame. Observed not to be scrutinised, but to be admired.

So, true to his nature, he decided to be selfish, keep you to himself forever. In what form could that be, precisely, was what he had been figuring out for a while now.

His arms neatly folded behind his back as he gave you an eerily lovesick look. You were scared, already shaking like a leaf. It truly felt like you were just about to be crumpled. It felt like you were an innocent person falsely accused and waiting on a death row with a lunatic of an executioner. You had an idea on what he wanted, his eyes green and with a nauseating lack of soulful reflectiveness that it usually held when talking to you.

You hesitated, thinking you could be wrong, "R-Rook…? What are you planning to do?"

"You know, (Name)" his grin widened.

"Can I ask why?"

"It only makes sense. I can't love you throughout your whole life. So why don't I love you on your last day and then I can love you beyond your death?"

"Are you... serious?"

"Very much so, yes," he nodded, seriously.

You stood up, horrified, but you couldn't take another step further. Your orbs kept observing him. Sweat clung to you uncomfortably as you looked at him, your face red and your breaths hitching. Insanely enough, you were half considering his words. A part of you wanted to sit down and meet your end. Never having felt loved before or loving anyone before, you were obsessed with the crushing grip Rook had you in.

That moment, you realized you had seen insanity in not only him but yourself. Because the part of you that wanted to make a run for it, the part of you that wanted to curse Rook and escape from the cause of your demise– that strong desire to survive, it lost. You let out a soft breath as you sat back down on the sofa again. Collecting yourself as Rook continued watching you. He complimented you, "My! What a darling you are. I understand this is an absurd ask."

"It's okay." you closed your eyes, leaning back till you felt the plush of the sofa. A peaceful smile was splayed in your eyes, "I love you, Rook."

"I wonder if I'm making the right decision," he spoke to himself as he lifted his bow up, an arrow pointing towards you, an easy target compared to others as compliant as you were. Before your last moments, your eyes cracked open to look at him one last time. His eyes held something you couldn't explain as he said, "I love you too, mon Trickster."

'Ah, his face looks complete now.'

"Urkh… anytime now," you choked out blood, spluttering it before the liquid went down in a smooth flow.

Rook had wrapped you in a tight hug, head against your chest, listening to your progressively slowing heartbeat. Your blood dripped down and reddened his blonde strands. He noticed that and giggled. "You're not scared?" he asked, childishly curious.

"I was, not anymore- now that you're with me," you spoke through the flurry of blood and saliva that came out of your mouth, your voice hoarse "That- that was mean though."

You were talking about the arrow that had gone through your neck, not completely destroying your ability to speak and not touching any vital nerves. No doubt, a calculated move from his part. At this point though, you'd die of blood loss. The pain was so unbearable at first, stains of tears down your face was the proof. Now it had settled into a dull throbbing. It flared up whenever you spoke but you didn't want to stop engaging with him, these being your last chances to do so.

He looked up at your face from where he was and smiled at the sight of your slightly swollen face. It was paler and bluer than your usual skin tone. Your eyes were unfocused, though it was clear they were trying to look at him. Your lips were stained red as blood and saliva dripped out from in between them. The wound in your neck smelled of a strong cooper. He had smelt this scent many times before but none of them were as alluring as the scent of your blood.

He licked a slow strip on your neck and you groaned in pain. The salty taste of blood spread through his tongue and he savoured the flavour like it was a rare delicacy, and in a sense it was.

By the time he lifted his head up to look at you to give a sheepish apology, he saw that your eyes had closed already. You had retired yourself to eternal slumber and that's when he realized–

He loves the sight of your dead face, for it meant it was only for him to see.

~♡~

Sometimes, he thanked himself for learning magic.

He had delicately removed the skin from your body and buried you, save your head, by the cabin with a tablet at your grave, digging your name in as 'Mrs. (Name) Hunt'. Your skin was dried through the use of magic as the sun had yet to peek out from in between the stubborn clouds.

He observed your brains, your tongue, your eyes. He had severed them to put preservative chemicals on them. They needed more than just normal muscles, being quick to rot. A thick layer applied so meticulously from how many times he had done it before. He spread the same substance in the inner parts of your head before drying them all with magic. There was a sheen on your face, looking like it had just been neatly varnished.

He felt it would be disrespectful to remove you of your internal organs and just stuff you with wool. Most obviously, wool and glass couldn't replace the softness of your supple skin and the beauty of your charming eyes. As such, difficult as it may be, he did his best to preserve you with all you had. He wondered what to do with the skin he had stripped you off throughout your whole body. Tapping his fingers against his chin, at last, he decides to make accessories out of them.

Your head was placed upon that empty mount. That same mount which left you wondering why it was left empty, even though every other mount had a head on them. Your visage on it looked pretty. Eyes closed, peaceful, so kind that even after death it seemed full of love and life. Your lips felt soft when he touched them with his thumb. He thought it was amazing! He would be able to preserve your beauty in object and in his heart for forever.

So far, he knew no pleasure greater than successfully securing a hunt. This time he learned the pleasure of securing a love in the most hedonistic, animalistic and sadistic way. Straying from the feeling of love and settling admiration into obsession.

Though he had started straying way before you noticed the blank stare in his eyes.

_______________________________________

Don't steal my work alright!? :(

Though taking inspiration is always welcome <33

Be sure to like, comment and reblog if you like this fic, it'll definitely help in my goals of becoming popular (@sakka-kyuu I am showing you my bebeh)

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #rook hunt #pomefiore #tw.age gap #tw. gore #tw. murder #rook hunt x reader

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creedslove · 10 months

Text

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART FIVE

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: Jack regrets treating you so bad lately after he learned you cried because of him, but he doesn't know how to handle the situation at all

(This is the fifth part of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE |

PART FOUR

Warnings: angst, hurt, fluff (because Wyatt is the cutest child in the whole world), asshole! jack, mom!reader

A/N: I don't know what to think... Jack is overall a dick, but he wasn't that bad in this one, i really don't know what you will all think of this chapter besties ❤️

2.8k words

Friday night came without warning and with that, it just dragged your heart around. You still hadn't wrapped your head around the fact Jack had managed to blackmail you into going to the ranch after pulling the extremely cowardly card of bringing lawyers into the games.

You knew the court wouldn't side with Jack, not in a normal situation at least, but the expenses of having to hire a lawyer to defend your cause, plus the drama Wyatt would be brought into would be too traumatic for him. He was so little and so innocent, he didn't deserve to find out his dad had left him, and then suddenly decided to come back and now he was going to try to take him away from his mommy.

And because he wasn't just a regular man with a regular job, he was an agent. He worked for one of the biggest agencies in the world, and you didn't know until what extent that went, but you figured it would be very easy for him to influence a judge for instance. There were too many possibilities and you were not willing to risk your son in a situation like that. He was your everything, the little one you loved the most in your life, you felt a kind of love you thought wasn't even possible to feel. Before your son was born, you thought the love you felt for Jack was the most intense feeling you'd ever experienced, which was, it was a romantic feeling, it swept you off your feet and you knew that even if you found love again, it wouldn't compare to what you felt for that asshole of a cowboy. But the love you felt for your son was almost blinding, you couldn't even imagine yourself losing the right to see him every day, it hurt you to even consider such a possibility, and that was why you would have to submit to Jack's will at least for the moment.

You finished packing your bag for the weekend and placed it right next to your son's, which had been done with his help, two days earlier, because your boy couldn't control his excitement. As much as you were tense and scared of what would happen on the ranch, you were also glad to see your son's happiness. You were both incredibly happy and also broken to see he was indeed a little cowboy at heart, just like his dad.

You sighed and began putting the things you didn't pack away, stopping as you found your memory box inside of your wardrobe, knowing exactly what it was inside of it. Your heart raced and it wasn't a good idea to take a look at it, but you couldn't fight your feelings any longer, so you dragged it over your bed and opened it.

There were so many pictures in it, pictures of you as a kid, your family, your life and pictures of the ranch and the cowboy you loved once so much. Technically Jack should avoid being caught on cameras, as this could be harmful to his job as a secret agent, not that it mattered, you never really understood how he could work as an agent, there was nothing discreet about him, he was a cowboy for god's sake, he drew everyone's attention in the room, but still, rules were meant to be obeyed. However, Jack never said no to you, and that included pictures. He never resisted your cute polaroids, you just loved clinging to him and snapping your pics together.

You had pictures of the ranch, the little animals and of course pictures of you Jack. You had a sad smile as you watched them, one by one, being taken by so many memories, so much happiness you had felt at those moments.

You only realized you were crying when your sight got blurry and one tear fell onto the picture, you quickly wiped it, not wanting it to be ruined and when Wyatt walked into your bedroom for the third time that night. He just couldn't help himself and he was so excited he had to snuggle you. He quietly walked to your bed, his curious eyes scanning you, tilting his head "why awe you cwying, mommy?" He asked innocently and you sniffed, drying your tears and shaking your head. You lifted your son up, helping him in bed, next to you, and showed him the picture. He smiled sweetly as he saw you, his tiny finger stroking your image in the picture with affection. Wyatt loved his mommy with all his heart.

But then something caught his attention, the man that stood next to you in the frame, even if he had the stetson and the sunglasses on, the little boy was able to recognize him anywhere

"Cowboy, mama!!!" He said with a giggled and then frowned "whewe's Wyatt?" He pouted and you bit your lips "you were just a tiny little bean in mama's womb when I was friends with the cowboy" you said and saw as your son nodded. You didn't know if he was able to put the information together, but he didn't say anything at all, he just smiled "cowboy my fwiend too!" He giggled and you snuggled him closer.

You felt you couldn't hold back the emotion in you and let out your tears, just as Wyatt got distracted with the other pictures of the ranch. He loved seeing the animals, and the flowers and it just made him happier and happier to know he was going to visit his cowboy friend.

When he looked up at you, he saw your tears and widened his big brown eyes "don't cwy mommy, pwease" he said sweetly and snuggled into you.

You held him closer and you didn't even notice when he fell asleep, you were too far deep in your memories, knowing you would never be as happy as you were one day, because you would never have Jack with you. Not the Jack you loved at least, because the one you were going to meet in a few hours could never be the same man that stole your heart.

•••

Jack paced his kitchen nervously, he was anxious and eager to see his son. A part of him still doubted you would show up with Wyatt, as much as he persuaded you to come by not playing fair, he still worried in his heart that he wouldn't see his son. And he'd been looking forward to it the whole week, it was just so hard not to stop by your apartment every single day to see him, be welcomed by his sweet face, his adorable voice and giggles and his expressive eyes that would never deceive Jack's paternity.

Helen sighed "Jack, I'm trying to finish these cupcakes for your boy and you are getting in the way, soon enough Y/N will be here and I can't wait to see my little boy" she said excitedly and earned herself a frown

"Your boy?"

"Yeah, you know damn well he is like a grandson to me, just as you are like a son to me, when you aren't being unbearable" the older woman said. She'd been working for Jack as his housekeeper on the ranch ever since he bought it, being at least a good twenty years older than him, she immediately took a liking to him in a maternal way. After she learned about his loss, she made sure to dedicate him her time just as she would to her own kids, as if his own kids had done something horrible, she felt so disappointed when he kicked you out while pregnant and never went after his son. Helen didn't know what had changed, and if she had to guess, she thought Jack himself probably didn't know what had changed, but she was happy, because she was going to see you again and meet your little boy.

He checked the table Helen had set for you and Wyatt and bit his lip, she could see he was tense and walked to him, placing her hand on his shoulder "they're gonna be here soon, don't worry about it" Helen reassured him and smiled as the two of them could hear the sound of a car approaching.

"Told you" she said excitedly and went outside.

Wyatt was too excited and couldn't even control how his little heart raced as he was still trapped by the safety belt.

"Huwy mommy!!! I wanna pway!" He whined and as soon as you helped him off, he ran to Jack, squealing excitedly and opening his arms to him. Jack's excitement was also visible, he lowered himself to welcome his boy, but Helen was faster, being so eager to meet him. She wrapped her arms around him and lifted him up, making your own heart flutter to see how much she cared about your son.

Wyatt was a little confused at first, but he giggled and looked at the woman

"Hi, I Wyatt!" He said sweetly and looked at her, but Jack was faster and picked him up

"Let me talk to my beautiful boy!" He tickled his tummy as his son wrapped his arm around his neck

"Hi cowboy!" He giggled adorably and stared at him with the same eyes Jack saw every day in the mirror.

Helen immediately wrapped her arms around you, excited to see you after the years and showering in compliments, you felt your heart warming, seeing her made you feel so glad, but then Jack walked to the two of you, only nodding his head at you.

When everyone was back in the kitchen, Jack placed Wyatt comfortably on his lap, as he showed him all the food they could have for breakfast. The man cleared his throat and looked at you

"Join us Y/N, you must be hungry too" he said coldly and you nodded, Helen could see the tension between the two of you was thick enough she could cut with it a knife, but Wyatt was innocent, he smiled big at you and pointed at the beautiful cake "chocolate cake, mommy! Can I have it pwease?" He gave you the puppy eyes and you nodded at him, Jack looked at the little boy and smiled "do you like this one, little man? It's my favorite too!" He tickled his tummy once more, loving his beautiful sweet little laugh.

You only sipped your orange juice but didn't feel like eating anything at all, as being back at that house was causing you a big wave of emotion; it'd been your home once, you'd wake up everyday and have breakfast there with your boyfriend, or late at nights when you would have a quickie with him, pressing against the kitchen counter.

You blushed softly as you thought of that and saw Jack was staring at you, he had asked you a question but you hadn't heard it as you were too deep in thought

"I told you you can take the guest room down the hallway upstairs, you know where it is" he instructed and you nodded, excusing yourself as you didn't feel hungry at all, and thankfully, Jack gave you the perfect excuse to stay away from him. How convenient, you thought to yourself.

You thanked Helen for the amazing breakfast though you hadn't eaten anything, but you could tell by the way your son chewed his food enthusiastically he was enjoying it for the both of you.

You quickly observed Jack handling Wyatt's food and thought it was quite interesting he wasn't so clueless about taking care of a child, maybe he was making an effort after all.

You told your son you would organize the bedroom and he nodded, turning his attention back at the man.

Jack made sure to pay attention to him, answer his silly questions and show Wyatt he was having a great time with him, until his son sipped his juice so he would wash down the food and place his small hand on his big one.

"Mommy was cwying last night" he said innocently, not understanding that maybe he shouldn't talk about personal things like those. Jack raised his eyebrow curiously at Wyatt and wanting to know more about it.

"Was she? And why was that?"

"Because of cowboy" he shrugged simply "cowboy and mommy wewe fwiends" he added and in his childish way told Jack about the pictures his mommy kept, about the animals he'd seen in them and how mommy had told him she used to be friends with the cowboy but they weren't anymore.

Jack took a deep breath, he tried to seem unbothered by it, but he felt a pit of guilt in his stomach, he had no idea you'd keep your pictures together, he'd figure you would've erased every single trace of him from your life, but apparently you hadn't. Jack sighed as he thought that maybe he shouldn't have been so harsh on you, maybe he should have been loving, sweeter, he should have fallen to your feet and begged you for forgiveness, that would've been better than calling you a bitch.

"Helen, can you stay with Wyatt and make sure he gets another slice of cake? I gotta check on Y/N really quick.." he asked the woman, who was more than happy to spend time with the adorable little boy.

Jack assured him he'd be back soon and ran upstairs as fast as he could, walking through the hallway and finding you inside of the guest room.

You were unpacking Wyatt's bag and placing his clothes inside the drawers, Jack wanted to tell you to stop, as he had prepared a surprise for you and Wyatt, Jack had turned one of the empty rooms into a beautiful bedroom for his son. He'd picked the decoration himself, everything full of farm animals and other things he thought his son might like it and he would keep it a surprise until it was bedtime, so he'd let his son decide if he wanted to sleep with his mom or by himself in his bedroom, like a baby boy, even if he wasn't sure Wyatt would sleep alone in a different house.

But he stopped himself and only watched you.

You looked so beautiful while doing something so simple such as folding some clothes, Jack felt his cold stone heart yearning for something he forced himself to pretend he didn't want anymore.

He took off his hat and held it in his hand and walked inside

"Y/N?" He asked in a low voice, even if it wasn't his intention, he startled you and you jumped a little, turning to him and feeling anxious. You were mentally preparing yourself to spend the whole weekend next to the man that broke your heart, you knew eventually you'd have problems, you just didn't want it to be less than an hour after you arrived.

"What do you need, Jack?" You asked him, as you saw him approaching you. His eyes scanned you shamelessly, he looked at your face, down your body and saw you hadn't aged a day, though you still managed to look more beautiful than before. Your body was looking gorgeous as ever and at that moment no matter how much he'd lied to himself over the years, he would give up everything to run his hands down your curves. He was at a loss of words at that moment, placing his hat on the bed and taking a step closer

"I'm sorry… about how I treated you, sugar, I really regret it" he said and looked into your eyes, but it wasn't enough, you needed to know what he meant and how much he meant it, so Jack's hand got on hips quickly, pulling you to him and before you could react to anything, his lips met yours in a needy kiss.

He was finally kissing those beautiful lips years later after making you go away, it felt to him he had returned home, at the same time it also felt not a day had passed after your last kiss. He was so glad in to be kissing you he barely noticed your hands pushing him away at the same time you managed to break the kiss.

You wiped your mouth as he took a step back and the next thing he felt was your hand on his cheek, a slap strong enough its sound echoed through the room.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Jack?" You raised your voice, furious to have been kissed by him, as he held the part of his face you'd slapped him as hard as you could, finally placing his hand down, you could see the redness and your handprint on his skin.

_____

A/N: idk besties, he deserved the slap, but the kiss 💋🔥🔥🔥🔥

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bnhaobservation · 5 months

Text

BNHA Observations, speculations and assorted info: The facts taking place during the year that ends with Rei's hospitalization and Tōya's assumed death

So, in order to write my fic, I spend much time observing canon scenes, comparing the manga and the anime version, take note of details, translations and info in them as well as finding out how are some things called.

Since what I noticed/speculated/found out can be of use for other fic authors I thought to share as well.

Resources:

Chapter 31 The Boy Born with Everything (全てを持って生まれた男の子 Subete o Motte Umareta Otoko no Ko) Chapter 39 Todoroki Shōto: Origin (轟焦凍：オリジン Todoroki Shōto: Origin) Chapter 44 Relaxing Day Off (休め振替休日 Yasume Furikae Kyūjitsu) Chapter 93 One For All's Ember (残り火ワンフォーオール Nokoribi One For All) Chapter 166 Be Proud, License Trainees (ホッコれ仮免講習 Hokkore Karimen Kōshū) Chapter 187 Flaming Roar! vs. Nomu: High-End (燃えよ轟け！VS脳無：ハイエンド Moeyo Todoroke! Versus Nōmu: High-End) Chapter 188 Your Father, the Number One Hero (父はNo.1ヒーロー Chichi wa Number One Hero) Chapter 192 The Todoroki Family (轟家 Todoroki-ke) Chapter 202 Match 3 (第3セット Daisan Set) Chapter 204 Tuning Up (チューニング Tuning) Chapter 249 The Hellish Todoroki Family (��獄の轟くん家 Jigoku no Todoroki-kun-chi Chapter 250 Ending (エンディング Ending) Chapter 290 Dabi's Dance (ダビダンス Dabi Dance) Chapter 302 The Wrong Way to Put Out a Fire, Part 2 (火の不始末後編 Hi no Fushimatsu Kōhen) Chapter 350 Bound to a Fiery Fate (エン En)

Episode 19 The Boy Born with Everything (全てを持って生まれた男の子 Subete o Motte Umareta Otoko no Ko) Episode 23 Todoroki Shōto: Origin (轟焦凍：オリジン Todoroki Shōto: Origin) Episode 25 Todoroki vs. Bakugō (轟VS爆豪 Todoroki versus Bakugō) Episode 49 One For All (ワン・フォー・オール) Episode 88 His Start (始まりの Hajimarino) Episode 90 Vestiges (面影 Omokage) Episode 95 Match 3 (第３試合 Daisan Shiai) Episode 96 Match 3 Conclusion (第３試合決着 Daisan Shiai Ketchaku) Episode 105 The Hellish Todoroki Family (地獄の轟くん家 Jigoku no Todoroki-kun-chi) Episode 106 The Unforgiven (許されざる者 Yurusarezaru-mono) Episode 124 Dabi's Dance (ダビダンス Dabi Dance) Episode 130 The Wrong Way to Put Out a Fire (火の不始末 Hi no Fushimatsu)

Series 4th Outro2 "Shout Baby" by Ryoku Oushoku Shakai

My Hero Academia: School Briefs I (僕のヒーローアカデミア雄英白書 I Boku no Hīrō Akademia U.A. Hakusho I) - Part 2 Notice from School My Hero Academia: School Briefs V (僕のヒーローアカデミア雄英白書祝 Boku no Hero Academia Hakusho Iwai) - Part 3 Awkward Year's-End Soba

OBSERVATIONS, SPECULATIONS AND ASSORTED INFO:

Fundamentally the year that lead to Rei's hospitalization and Touya's death is narrated into two different moments, chap 31/39, in which we've a retelling of how bad it was from Shouto's point of view and chap 290/302, in which we learn instead of Touya's side.

However, there's a fundamental difference in the two narrations. When the story tackles Touya's side, we can more or less pinpoint the dates of when this is happening, the same can't be said for when the story tackles Shouto's side. There's probably a narrative reason for this, Touya's whole story (which covers much more than just this year) is a progression of things going from good to terrible, while Shouto's story is likely meant to narrate the constant horror in which he and his mother lived until Rei lost it. So there's not really a need to pinpoint when a scene took place because that scene likely kept on repeating in similar variants for days, until Rei became unable to take it any longer.

As a result I'll narrate some fact that are part of Shouto's side first, so as to give the idea they likely repeated over and over through that year, while I'll follow the timeline of Touya's side of the story more closely.

So anyway let's dig on what happened that year.

Warning: as tumblr now has an image limit (no more than 30 per post), I had to turn more images into a single one so as to show the full scene. The result is that the image quality in some scenes is pretty low... Please, use the images solely as a visual reference of which scene you need to look at and, for the text check your own copy of BNHA.

TIMELINE

January 11: Todoroki Shōto is 5.

January 18: Todoroki Tōya is 13.

April: Todoroki Tōya starts his second year at Middle school - Todoroki Fuyumi starts Middle school - Todoroki Natsuo starts his 3rd year at Elementary school. - Todoroki Shōto attends preschool.

[Preeschool in Japan isn't mandatory but we know Shōto attended to it as Chap 166 shows on its cover the photo taken at the preschool entrance ceremony... the photo might not be necessarily taken in this year as kids can start preschool from when they're 3 but it just confirms Shōto went at it]

Sometime during the year: Endeavor and All Might talked for the last time.

A note on the translation:

‘Chō hisashiburi! 10-Nen mae no taidan furi ka na! ? Mikaketakara aisatsu shi tokou to omotte ne.’ 「超久し振り！10年前の対談振りかな！？見かけたから挨拶しとこうと思ってね。」 “It’s been a long time! It's from the talk/conversation show from 10 years ago, right! ? I saw you and thought I'd say hello.”

Endeavor and All Might's conversation is called ‘taidan furi’ (対談振り) where ‘taidan’ (対談) means “a discussion between two people which is usually set up as a special occasion and whose topic is set in advance”… while ‘furi’ (振り) is “show”. So basically, 10 years ago they didn’t have a casual chat but ended up together in some sort of talk show / combined interview. The anime makes it even more obvious because in it the sentence is:

‘10-Nen mae, media de taidan shite irai ka na! ? !’ 「10年前、メディアで対談して以来かな！？！」 “I think it's been since we had a conversation on the media 10 years ago!?”

During the year: Shōto watches All Might on television when his father isn't around [shown in chap 39 and 206. We see that Shōto's clothes are different in the two scenes and so is his position, meaning he did it more than once which "School Briefs" also confirms]

“You always were a fan of All Might, weren’t you, Shōto? But you had to wait until your father wasn’t around to watch those video clips in secret. Remember?” [Rei from "My Hero Academia: School Briefs I"]

During the year: Shōto's training is so severe it causes him to throw up. Rei tries to get in between him and Enji protesting he's only 5 and gets hit. [shown in chap 39, 202, 204]

Actually we don't know if Chapter 202 & 204 are placed in this same year (Shōto is still small but Rei isn't present and Shōto and Enji are dressed differently so it's not the same time as chap 39... and likely chap 202 and 204 show two different scenes as well since in one Enji has his moustaches on fire while in the other is his beard... never mentioning in chap 202 Shōto already has his scar so this likely happened post him being burn and could as well take place in the following year, though the fact that Enji has long sleeves might imply it's still winter...) but they seems to show other scenes of Shōto's training which still sees him throwing up and crying, which surely confirm an abusive pattern.

A note on the translation:

'Tōya wa oshikatta. Ore ijō no karyoku o sonaete irunoni. Rei no taishitsu o motte shimatte… Aitsu wa… oshikatta' 「燈矢は惜しかった。俺以上の火力を備えているのに冷の体質を持ってしまって… あいつは…惜しかった」 “Tōya was close/disappointing/something I feel regret for/deserving better. Even though he has more firepower than me. He had Rei's constitution… That guy… was close/disappointing/something I feel regret for/deserving better.”

Oishikatta (惜しかった) has quite a bunch of meanings like to feel regret for, to find something a pity/pitiful, to mourn but also to cherish, to love dearly, to be precious... and is used to express pity/regret of an "almost but not quite" situation, in "a damn it, you were so close" kind of way.

Very likely the emphasis in the sentence isn't that Tōya could almost do it, but that it was so unfortunate Tōya couldn't do it.

This doesn't necessarily mean Tōya was already dead because it was decided Tōya couldn't fulfill Enji's ambitions way prior his death and way prior Shōto's birth.

BTW, Tōya started burning himself before Natsuo was conceived. In order for their age difference to work, it means Enji started training Tōya when Tōya was 3 (yeah, it's possible he started earlier than this age but I find difficult that a child of 2 could pull it out successfully). As a result it's possible he started training Shōto at that age as well. In case someone doesn't remember it, Quirks don't appear when one is 4 but can appear even earlier (luminescent baby anyone?), Shōto could freeze his own snot as an infant and it's implied that Enji knew Tōya had a fire Quirk when they conceived Fuyumi (meaning when Tōya was 2 months or younger) so starting their training before 4 wasn't impossible.

During the year: While Shōto is scared at the idea of becoming like his father, someone who abuses his mother, Rei comfort him saying he can decide who he'll become. [Chap 39... I pieced back the scene for better visual]

During the year: Tōya is desperate because he can't figure his reason to exist and search comfort in Natsuo [Chap 290]

Likely in sprind, anyway prior to July (as Natsuo isn't 9 yet): Tōya, Natsuo and Fuyumi play together while Shōto can only watch them. Enji refuses to let him join them saying he needs to train and they belong to different worlds. [Chap 302 & 39 & 250]

July 1: Todoroki Natsuo is 9.

Likely summer, though it could be still spring: Natsuo refuses to listen to Tōya’s complains during the night, telling him to go talk with Fuyumi. [Chap 302]

August 8: Todoroki Enji/Endeavor is 36.

Likely autumn (Rei's sleeves are longer): Rei tries to stop Tōya from leaving the house and the two have an argument. [Chap 302]

During the year: Rei begins to break starting to cry way too often to the point Shōto will end up remembering her solely crying and will forget her smiling. [Chap 31]

December 6: Todoroki Fuyumi is 13.

Winter: Tōya’s flames turn blue. [Chap 302]

A note on the translation:

'Hayaumare no chīsana karada ni yōyaku otozure hajimeta nijiseichō’「早生まれの小さな身体に漸く訪れ始めた二次性徴」 "Secondary sexual characteristics have finally begun to appear in the small body of the hayaumare.”

'Hayaumare' isn't a premature kid but someone born between January 1 and April 1. In Japan this is relevant because in order to start school you need to be 6 by the time the 2 of April comes around, meaning the Hayaumare are the youngest kids in the class as they're born in the year following the one in which the other kids, or ‘Osoumare’ (遅生まれ "born in between April 2 and December 31"), were born.

Winter (likely in a different day as the black bars on the corner hint at time passing by... possibly because when Tōya came back home Enji wasn't there yet?): Tōya asks his father to come to Sekoto Peak with him his next day off. [Chap 302]

Winter (likely in the same day): Todoroki Enji/Endeavor hits Todoroki Rei for not stopping Todoroki Tōya from training. [Chap 302]

Winter (the morning of another day as Todoroki Shōto has just woken up): Rei snaps and burns Shōto. [Chap 31, 39, 249, 302]

“Shōto?” he said, facing the sliding fusuma screen. No response. Natsuo slid the screen aside, not expecting to find his brother inside, but there he was-fast asleep on the Futon that he’s clearly plopped down onto without much care, all askew. Moving quietly so as not to wake Shōto, Natsuo crept over and peered at his brother’s face. He looked surprisingly young, despite the burn scar that sat heavily on his face like a shadow. Having been abused by Endeavor-who’s been fixated on his own ambition. Todoroki Rei had snapped one day and thrown scalding water in Shōto’s face. Natsuo would never forget the pair of tear-filled screams he’d heard that day. How painful it must have been, he thought. Natsuo caught himself extending a finger toward the scar but quickly curled it away when he realized what he was doing. Shōto’s scar probably wouldn’t exist if only the boy hadn’t inherited aspects of both his parents’ Quirks. Maybe Shōto could have enjoyed a normal childhood, full of carefree days playing with his siblings. And yet I couldn’t do a thing… Natsuo had been in elementary school when it had happened. Their father, Endeavor, had ignored his family well-being in pursuit of his ambitions-ambitions he’d projected onto young Shōto. Even now, Natsuo would beat himself up over how he used to be before the abuse really began, recalling the period in his life that had made him feel pathetic and ashamed. Before Shōto was born, Natsuo had sought his father’s love and care, and when Endeavor was around, he would turn into an excited ball of energy, eager for attention. But that love never came. It was only thanks to his warm and caring mother that Natsuo had survived those early years and learned to cope with rejection from his other parent. But after Shōto was born, even their mother grew distant, though not out of indifference. Natsuo could sense how much energy she had to devote to protecting her youngest, her baby, from her husband’s so called training-which most would label abuse- but at that age, Natsuo couldn’t help but feel that his mother had been stolen from him. After witnessing his mother and brother crying and screaming on that horrible day, Natsuo had been overcome with crushing shame. [My Hero Academia: School Briefs V]

Winter (the same day or the one after it... Shōto's clothes are different but he might have had to change because he got wet... on the other side it's also possible that Rei's hospitalization wasn't done the same day but Enji had to do preparations for it): Rei is consequently hospitalized and put in isolation. After learning about his mother's hospitalization Shōto decides to blame his father for this. [Chap 39]

A note on the translation:

'Omae ni kigai o kuwaetanode byōin ni ireta. Mattaku… daijina tokida to iu no ni…' 「おまえに危害を加えたので病院に入れた。全く…大事な時だと言うのに…」 "I put her in a hospital because she hurt you. Good grief... even though it's an important time..."

Enji is actually more specific in what he says to Shōto about Rei's fate, saying he put her in a hospital and didn't call her a fool but uses an expression of general exhasperation 'mattaku'.

Winter (likely on Todoroki Enji/Endeavor’s day off, Tōya's clothes are also noticeably different from the ones he had when he asked his father to go with him on Sekoto Peak): Tōya goes on Sekoto Peak, waiting for his father. When his father doesn’t arrive and the lights go down he ends up setting himself on fire losing his lower jaw before he manages to enter in a stream. He is then found and taken away by All for One. Enji reaches Sekoto Peak but can’t find his son except for a piece of his jawbone. Tōya is assumed dead even if Enji at first claims he didn't want to accept it. However this will lead him to focus even more on Shōto. [Chap 291, 302, 350]

Winter (after Tōya's death): After Rei's hospitalization Shōto will never visit her until he'll be in U.A. High school. Rei's psychological condition will get worse. Fuyumi, despite knowing about her family's sad situation was and will remain too scared to do anything beyond keeping up appearances. Natsuo will gradually forget things but will keep on resenting Enji for what happened to his mother and to his siblings. [Chap 39, 187, 250, 302]

TIMELINE CONSISTENCY PROBLEMS

Either Horikoshi didn't plan the Todoroki timeline or decided to change things along the way as, occasionally, what the characters say happened in a chapter get contraddicted in another... or make them seem uncaring of Enji's neglect of Natsuo (and Fuyumi) and of how he eventually casued Tōya's death.

Mind you, I'm sure they all cared about Tōya's death and about the neglect Natsuo and Fuyumi suffered because otherwise the characterization wouldn't make sense. This is likely a problem in the narration, not an attempt of the narration to deny the care.

Anyway I'm gonna list the problems in narration now. Do with them what you want. I'm sure plenty of people has headcanons that solve them just fine. This though isn't a page for theories so I didn't list any of mine either.

Not all of the problems are terrible (the only ones really bad are the ones that consistently change the timeline/why things happened) but some of them can undoubtedly confuse a reader about the characters' feelings.

Let's start with chap 350.

For start this establishes that Tōya assumed his father didn't come to him on Sekoto Peak because he was too busy with work... so the fire took place not after the discussion they had (which fits with how the timeline decided Rei needed to be hospitalized before Tōya were to burn) but neither on Enji's free day apparently... unless Tōya assumed his father gave up on his free day to work some more which is something he had already done in chap 301, when Enji left and refused to train Tōya even though it was his day off... and this can be Tōya's own way to excuse his father for not coming to Sekoto Peak.

However, after this the chapter has Tōya say he has to go back home because he did and say some awful things so he should apologize to his mother and the others and shows his father what he can do.

The problem is... we didn't really see him doing something awful. Yes, he argued with his mother but this was PRIOR to his flames turning blue, as for his siblings his argument with Fuyumi dated to PRIOR Natsuo's birth and the one with Natsuo to PRIOR his argument with his mother and wasn't even a real argument. He just begged his little brother to hear him out.

If there was an argument that day before Tōya left for Sekoto Peak... if he did something... well, this is completely discharged by the plot. It won't even be mentioned when he and his siblings will meet again... not even mentioning his mother was hospitalized and put in isolation PRIOR to him going on Sekoto Peak, so if he had an argument with her we didn't see, it still was way prior to that.

And the same goes for whatever he did of awful... as I've hard time thinking he's referring to accidentally burning down the peak.

Even his discussion with his father doesn't seem to fit the description and if he blames himself for how his father hit his mother... well, that just feel messed up especially since he wasn't even shown being there to see.

Going on.

Chap 39 said Shōto didn't visit Rei because he blamed himself, while chap 250 says it was due to Rei's psychological condition worsening after Tōya's death... to go back on chap 302 volume version which said she was put in isolation PRIOR to Tōya's death (and therefore likely couldn't see anyone even if she wanted to) and then, AFTER Tōya's death she got even worse.

In the magazine version of chap 302 Horikoshi had Rei state that Enji basically became abusive AFTER Tōya's death, and this is what eventually lead Rei to snap and be eventually hospitalized... the whole thing was corrected in the volume version so now the volume version too agrees that Rei was hospitalized FIRST and then Tōya died.

While the thing got 'fixed', the whole correction was done in a sloppy manner... it would have worked much better if the dialogues in whose two scenes were swapped because, if Rei was already hospitalized and put in isolation, she wouldn't have known if, after Tōya's death, Enji got worse. It's hard to think she's referring to the time prior Tōya's death because it feels like a non sequitur since they were talking of the time AFTER IT.

Since the narration was changed retroactively it's possible that in the first planning for the chapter Tōya's flames turning blue, him telling his father, his father abusing Rei and him running to Sekoto Peak (instead than waiting for Enji's day off) took place all in the same day... or better all in the same night as it's dark when Tōya's flames turn blue and it's dark when Tōya burns on Sekoto Peak.

This however becomes impossible when it was decided Rei was hospitalized PRIOR to Tōya dying.

It doesn't help how Rei in chapter 39 focus especially on how she shouldn't stay with Shōto due to his left side being repulsive to her, when chap 302 magazine version also implied Natsuo's look was repulsive to her and the volume version instead change things and made it all about the way they looked at her (but Shōto never looked at her in such a way though okay, she might have been losing it but she should have still worried more about Tōya who glared at her like Enji and also about Natsuo). Of course the problem of chap 39 is likely that what happens in chap 302 was likely not planned and the story was possibly meant to focus solely on Shōto so, of course, she wouldn't want to be near him and wouldn't be troubled by the other kids.

Shōto is supposed to be kept isolated by his siblings, which is also why Natsuo had no idea Shōto liked Soba as, evidently, they never ate together before. However, when Enji attack Rei from the furniture we see they seem to be all in the same room, the television one.

In chap 291 Enji claims he kept searching for Tōya, unable to believe in his death... but chap 302 presents him as resigned and completely focused on Shōto.

Either because Tōya's storiline wasn't planned yet or to keep the secret, the story in its early stages avoid mentioning him... with confusing results.

Shōto, in chap 39, won't mention to Midoriya how his father might have lead to his older brother's demise. The manga will try to excuse it by saying

'Sotsu-sen shita hanasu mon ja nēdaro' 「率先して話すもんじゃねエだろ」 "I wouldn't take the initiative to speak (about it)."

Only... during his first discussion with Midoriya Shōto:

Asked Midoriya if he was All Might illegittimate son

Told him about his father buying his mother for Quirk Marriage

Told him about his mother's depression and how she ended up burning him

Told him about how he was raised to fulfill his father's expecations and how he hated it and how he'll deny his father by refusing to use his Quirk

That's quite a lot he decided to mention, but the fact he didn't mention how his father also lead his oldest brother to his demise made it seems as if Shōto didn't see Enji responsible for it... which also seems confirmed by how, when Fuyumi asks Shōto how he feels about Enji, he replies he blames him solely for his scar and driving his mother to madness, not a word for his dead older brother or for how his siblings suffered of neglect even if Natsuo made clear he still suffers for it.

Shōto is a VERY caring boy. This narrative choice seems to imply he didn't care about his siblings when it's likely the opposite. He cared for Natsuo and likely for Tōya and Fuyumi too. The way the story is told though, is misleading because it makes him look like he only cares about himself and his mother when I don't think that's the case.

Probably though, back in chap 31 Horikoshi either hadn't planned Tōya's storyline yet or wanted to keep it secret and here he didn't want to repeat the whole narration or give too many hints about Tōya's death so he had Shōto skip it and focus on Rei. It's a choice... but it's not a great one.

Enji also for a long while won't show concern for how he caused Tōya's death.

In chap 93 Enji thinks at how his despair lead him to ruin his family... only again there's no mention of Tōya not even visually, again likely because Horikoshi either hadn't planned Tōya's storyline yet or wanted to keep it secret. Still it seems as if Enji doesn't care he lead his son to death for his own ambition.

Chapter 188 is a little better as, at least, Tōya is shown along with his siblings... but it's still not great because, even though Enji is in the middle of his attempt at being a better person, here he worries about his overheating and seems to focus solely on how he married Rei and with her he had three kids who didn't have the Quirk he wanted and then to a kid who had the Quirk he wanted to fight the over heating, and doesn't concern at all with how, in the process, he also abused his family, lead Rei to madness and Tōya to death, but it can work narratively... even if it's not so great because it remarks something we already knew and doesn't focus on his regret (which would have been more important since Enji is trying to be a better person). But okay, it can work.

Probably the worst part is chap 192 because by then Enji is making clear he plans to atone but when he worries about the lives he had cut short, even though Tōya was mentioned, the visual shows us only Rei, as if she were the only life he had cut short (as she ended up in a hospital), skipping the one of his son WHO DIED.

Yes, this is probably to keep the mystery about Tōya but it's still not a great choice since he doesn't seem concerned.

Also probably because Horikoshi either hadn't planned Tōya's (and Natsuo's) storyline yet or wanted to keep it secret in "Ultra Archive" it was said Fuyumi became a teacher solely because she felt bad about the mistreatment Shōto suffered, apparently not caring about the neglect Natsuo suffered or of how Tōya ended up dead.

Fuyumi is also showed 'not caring' when no changes are done regarding to her in chap 302.

In the magazine version Fuyumi saying "I knew our family was broken" with an image of Enji dragging away Shōto and her mother trying to stop it, can be read as "(After Tōya's death) I knew our family was broken" and this allows her to sound like she's in pain for Tōya, Shōto and her mother.

However when the manga version changes things and have Rei hospitalized before Tōya's death, showing her having a flashback of how Enji was dragging away Shōto and her mother trying to stop it, remarks she knew her family was broken PRIOR to Tōya's death but not her feelings in regard to it. This combines negatively with how it was said she became a teacher for what Shōto suffered and paints her as uncaring for what Tōya suffered.

Again, I'm sure Fuyumi cared. It's just when "Ultra Archive" was written either Horikoshi didn't think about this part of the storyline or we weren't meant to know about it so he skipped it, and in chap 302 he merely adjusted things poorly so they ended up having implications he didn't plan.

Shōto going to preschool, where other children are, but being kept isolated by his siblings because they aren't part of the Hero world, seems a contraddiction in the story. While part of it can be due to Tōya's actions when Shōto was a baby, even after Tōya's death it will be said Shōto was kept apart from Natsuo (it's unclear if the same applies to Fuyumi) but then we see that when Shōto is in U.A. he's free to also go out without supervision so it becomes weird how (or why) Enji managed to keep him apart from his siblings, when he was allowed to spend time with whoever he wanted outside of his house... and even in his house he apparently wasn't controlled.

It also doesn't speak so great of Natsuo never attempting to connect with his little brother even if "School Briefs" tries to excuse it by saying it was due to Natsuo's grief.

When giving the green sign to "Vigilantes" Horikoshi likely completely forgot that All Might and Endeavor supposedly didn't meet for 10 years as, in chap 122, the two will cooperate to stop a Villain attack. Since “Vigilantes” takes place AFTER All Might and All for One’s big fight that injured both, it can’t be more than 6 years at the very best but, much likely, it’s less as this takes place at the end of “Vigilantes”. It’s true they didn’t really talk but still, they met.

Also both the anime and the coloured version of the manga give him red hair when, by then, his hair were while.

Credits when it's due though, I don't know if Horikoshi is behind the coloured manga version or another person does the colouring and that person took the anime as inspiration. In the black and white version Horikoshi's design for Tōya is consistent as his hair aren't coloured (while he colour red hair in black), so this could be not Horikoshi's fault.

The anime seems to confirm many scenes took place during night (except for Endeavor searching for Tōya after Sekoto Peak burned)... clearly no one was keeping an eye on Tōya if Enji never noticed how late his son got home and Rei, despite knowing Tōya went on Sekoto Peak to train, never worried about her son being up on a peak alone till late at night...

That's all I could remember/find for now.

The Todoroki storyline remains my favorite in the manga but there's no deny it was handled in a way that ended up contradicting itself, likely sometimes by mistake and sometimes due to change of plans or plot reasons. It's still a great story so don't think I believe the fact it has shortcoming means it's not enjoyable.

#boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #Todoroki Enji #Todoroki Rei #Todoroki Touya #Todoroki Shouto #Todoroki Fuyumi #Todoroki Natsuo #All for One #bnha observations

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