#i actually crave for more content of other characters but they always appears and its getting annoying

[helloimamistake]

What goes through my head everytime i look up voltron stuff and 90% of content that i see is klance

[bitchlessdino]

Tagged by @seokgyuu and @idyllic-ghost I love you babies 💗💗💗💗

last song: Headliner by Seventeen, I was streaming the album lmao as a whole actually

favorite color: dusty blue, actually my wedding colors and I always thought was pretty. Besides that I also really think pastel colors are pretty despite not wearing them all that much

last movie/tv show: Gen V, I started this series midway first and was waiting more episodes so I watched its predecessors The Boys, and this show is literally so sick (as in cool and actually disgusting) I am enjoying myself

sweet/spicy/savory?: spicy and savory, will always crave hot Cheetos above any other snack 70% of the time

relationship status: I’m getting married to Chan, hehe so no I’m not single. 💗

current obsession: Dino lmao. Literally ever since they came back all I’ve been doing is consuming multiple and I mean multiple Dino content because he’s been getting so much lately and I’m so excited to see what the spoiler is. DIXTAPE PLEASE COME THRU IM BEGGING. OK that was an expected answer but also I’ve been making salads a lot more recently and eating with tortilla chips. it’s so yummy this way it’s like it’s own salsa. I don’t know and I feel healthier because of it. 

last thing i googled: Paul shetty, literally watched Gen V ep 7 while doing this and was wonder whether he was a character in the comics or if he made an appearance in The Boys? I love looking at lore. Gives me brain food as a writer

Tagging my loves @hwanghyunjinenthusiast @buffhoshi @gyuwoncheol @dirtysvthoughts @beomcoups and anyone who wants to join! if you already did these sorry for the double tag 💕

[flockrest]

Because I am way too anxious to bring this up off anon, I come to your inbox bearing anonymous musings.

Something I don't see a lot of is.. Link being anxious about the child prodigy that Tulin has always been. We see in HW: AoC and TOTK that Tulin, from a young age, has a lot of talent, and abilities most Rito don't have. Teba is a skilled warrior, but I can see Tulin, in his prime, easily surpassing that.

And Link gets to see that. Link gets to watch Tulin grow, helps the fledgeling grow, nurtures the adventurous warrior spirit of a boy who'll certainly fight alongside him someday, and someone he'll be proud to have there.

But the problem comes when ToTK comes around, and Tulin becomes a sage. I personally can see Link, maybe intentionally, maybe not, projecting who he once was, kinda still is, onto Tulin. This child prodigy, amazing with his favored weapon from the very start, slated to save the world, and all too willing to do it. And Tulin makes it clear that Link inspired Tulin's willingness, helped the fledgeling become fearless.

I think about the paralels between Tulin and Link very often. And, in my interpretations, as proud as Link is of Tulin for becoming a fine young man.. He can't help but remember how he used to be, when he pulled the Master Sword. And in the final battle, when Tulin is knocked out with the rest, I wonder if he thinks about how he brought a child, practically his little brother, into a situation where he could so easily die.

Sorry for the ramblings- i've been scrolling through your blog and thinking about your color hc especially and. I guess it sparked a bit of a brainrot "^^

first off: hello, hi! please don't ever be sorry for sending in an ask like this — i love discussing meta with others, especially on a level of engagement like this. i wish it'd happen more, really! genuinely, if you have more thoughts you'd like to share, i'd love to hear them out!!

okay okay, time to address your delicious content. i'm a botw and totk link enjoyer more than i am writer, so i can't give too many thoughts about him from my end ( would be stoked to hear any input from actual link writers though...eyes emoji ), but you came to the right place for tulin brainrot [rubbing my hands together]

you're right in a lot of aspects, particularly about the parallels between link and tulin. it's why i find their dynamic so compelling and crave to always play around with it, because it's at once they are fambly!! and this is who you could've been if given unconditional support and love — that you partake in because you are what you're trying to ensure he will never have to grow up to be.

( tulin also notably shares many parallels with revali! one in particular that tickles me silly whilst also making me emo is like. how irreverent they are? because they put so much stock in hard work and meaningful results...revali has his knight with the darkness-sealing sword that he can't fathom putting such an alarming amount of faith in as the "key to defeating calamity ganon" when all he's done to earn that title is pull a sword; tulin has his stormwind ark that his people are pinning all their hopes on for no reason other than it appears in a Song, when they're basically starving and struggling and could be doing something actually substantial ( disclaimer: they are both unreliable narrators ). aside from age and other obvious character intricacies, they're pretty much one banger support system removed from being each other...but that's a ramble for another time sldfkjld )

and yes, totk made it very clear that tulin and link are familiar to that extent! i am still so thankful for it! we'll never know the specifics, but honestly, the mere act of giving tulin someone else — someone more present and tangible than revali ( at least until aoc sldkfjdf but after that as well! ) — to chase after and strive to be like would've been impactful enough on its own!! and yeah, he has his dad too, but what teba represents is very different from what link represents!

link projecting onto tulin in that way is a concept i'm glad you brought up, because it would for sure add another great layer to their relationship! all those complicated emotions...yessss, i eat it all up!! and i can definitely see how far link's feeling of responsibility over tulin would stretch, both as someone caring for a kid and as someone caring for his little brother, but the thing is...tulin would be doing his damnedest to be there even if link — or anyone, including his parents — said no.

tulin's hierarchy of people i want to be like and surpass is still, to this day: 1) revali <- 2) teba <--> 2.0001) link. and while link's absolutely been a huge inspiration in important departments, tulin's pluck, drive, and eagerness to do whatever he can is and has always been all his own. link may help enable him, but tulin has consistently not been able to stand by and do nothing if he can help it! combine this with his legitimate skills and cultural values — i.e. how integral warriorhood is to the rito — and you get a preteen who is going to be there with you 'til the end, as he promised, whether you or anyone else likes it or not :')

WHICH, you know, could feed into the parallels...and hence the projection...they would benefit from a real sit-down-and-talk, probably slfdldk and if nothing else, i hope link takes heart in the fact that tulin has a sincerely great support system in his family and community — there will be really bad days to the really good days, of course, but he gets to be a kid ( no matter how much he refuses to acknowledge this ), and he gets to work through his traumas and insecurities in full, and he gets to heal. i promise you, he gets to heal!

i have other murky thoughts i cannot properly collate right now, but i think i got the bulk of what i wanted to say out lskfjldg thank you so much for sending this in!! it was a pleasure to read through and answer ♡

[alicee1]

Finally back

Revived! Wilbur x Reader

Warnings: talk of death, grieving, character death (Wilbur), reunion

Word count: 1.7K

Synopsis: After Wilbur got revived by Dream he first rushes off to find you, right in the place where you had spent the night before L’manburg got blown up together with you. Angst followed by fluff/comfort

Request:

what if revived wilbur returning to a (he/him or they/them) reader and the reader who was with wilbur the night before l'manberg went boom being like super over emotional and stuff because they hadnt seen their lover in a while and just good ole comfort coming out of the reunion :0 (please the wilbur revival has had me craving wilbur content </3)

A/n: Not gonna lie, this was really hard to write at first cause of the pure angst, but i figured out a way! I really hope you enjoy it and it was really fun to write actually. Thank you for requesting!

Rules, Masterlist

"I'll come back to you."

Maybe you had been a fool to believe his words. Both you and him knew the chance was small that he would come back unscathed yet in that moment, those promising words that left his mouth were all that mattered.

The night before the bombing of L'manburg you had spent together with Wilbur. It had been calm and comfortable, spending the night in each other's arms and reminiscencing past memories. Neither of you had spoken a word of what would happen the next day.

He had built a small cabin in the woods where he stayed with you, his little escape from the outside world and all the problems that came with it.

For a while you had seen Wilbur start to slip, his sanity slowly seeping away under the pressure and responsibilities he carried.

He didn't speak to you often about L'manburg and Pogtopia, wanting to keep you seperated from his work and worries.

You had been his escape.

No matter what had happened outside the walls of your small comfortable cabin, it was as if a switch was flicked as soon as he stepped inside.

Even if it was just for a moment, he could leave all his worries and problems behind and seek comfort in your arms.

You were his cliff against the stormy sea that were his thoughts and problems, an unrelenting barrier he could escape to.

But as the day crept nearer he had explained to you what his plan was, sitting down with you as he explained what could happen.

You had known where he was when you awoke to an empty bed that morning. His warmth lingered in the blankets and his scent in the air. Leaving behind his promise to return to you from the night before.

His words were believable, you truly believed he would return to you. For the past days he had made up his mind, through cracks you thought you could see glimpses of the Wilbur you had once known.

Nothing could have prepared you for the news that Phil brought with him.

It felt as if you were torn apart piece by piece before getting out back together, yet his death left a gaping hole behind.

You had etched his name into the large builder that laid in your back garden, without a body to bury it was the most you could do as memorial.

Desperately you had clung onto the traces that he had left behind in your cabin. The pack of cigarettes left on the table, his spare beanie that hung discarded on a chair. A small pile of crumpled up papers discarded as he attempted to write letters to his father.

He never send the majority of them. After everything had gone south and he had retreated to the woods and Pogtopia it just seemed like he couldnt keep up the lies anymore.

You never touched anything he held left behind, afraid it would get rid of his last traces in the cabin. The objects were cleaned often but other than that remained untouched.

It was a few months until a see through apparition had found its way to the small cabin. It was one of the first times you had left the comforting space after Wilbur's death only to be faced with someone, something, that looked so much like him.

It had made you curl up under the protective blankets of your bed as tears streamed down your face as you grieved.

Although it had taken a long time, you learned to move on. Despite that his last traces in the cabin stayed untouched, but you healed. Slowly, step by step, but it happened.

You returned to the way you lived before. Besides the crater in your heart that you weren't sure would ever heal, you picked up your activities one by one.

You started gathering wood again, hunting for meat and gardening in your back garden where you had started a small vegetable farm beside the memorial builder.

Each time you passed it you traced your hand over the stone, lingering for a few seconds as you remembered him before moving on with what you were doing. Although you would always make sure there was a small bouquet of fresh, hand picked, wild flower laid on the stone.

The apparition didn't appear again, making you believe you had imagined the entire ordeal in the first place.

The fireplace was lit again when you were at the cabin, the windows opened to let in fresh air. Due to the secluded nature of the woods you could easily leave the windows and doors open as you gathered for materials.

Wilbur hurried away from the crater where L'manburg once stood. He left Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo, who he had just met, behind there. Plans and ideas shot through his mind although he needed to figure something out first.

He reached the cabin in the woods, he didn't even have to think to remember the way, his body leading him down the path automatically despite it having been 13 years.

The small clearing was still exactly the same as he remembered, the cabin stood peacefully in the middle of it.

Wilbur could see a new vegetable garden beside it, surrounded my fences with lanterns attached to light it up in the dark.

The windows and doors stood open, making his entrance effortless as he entered.

The place still looked exactly the same, although he could see the small changes that had occured over time. But in general, it looked as if time had stopped flowing inside.

The pack of cigarettes laid unmoving on the bedside table that stood on his side of the bed. His spare beanie hung from the side of the clothing chair that stood in the same corner it had been in 13 years ago. The fireplace that always spread warmth and a soft golden glow when he returned to you was reduced to a smouldering pile of ashes, indicating you hadn't been gone for too long.

A small hand drawn map hung from the wall that hadn't been there before.

The only thing missing was you.

Today you had chosen to go fishing, something you had enjoyed doing before but a hobby you had left neglected for a long time.

The ripples in the water were calming as you breathed out, instantly you knew why you had always enjoyed it. There was something peaceful in watching the sun's reflexion in the small ripples the water created as the red and white striped ball floated gently along the stream.

You stayed by the river for most of the day, only returning at the end of the afternoon, satisfied with the catch of today.

As you returned home, you were caught of guard by the steady smoke that gently rose from the chimney. You could see it from a little distance away, making you question if you had checked that the fire had died before you left.

The sack you had stored the fish in hung from your hand as you gently opened the door with the other, the setting of the sun had allowed the fire to cast it's golden glow through the cabin.

That wasn't however what caught your attention. Instead the cloaked figure in the middle of the room did.

A dark cloak you could recognize between any other, paired with a beanie similar to the one you saw every day as it hung from, what had once been your shared, clothing chair. Underneath messy brown hair could be seen.

It was an appearance you could recognize in a heartbeat as tears gathered in your eyes, the sack slipping from your grasp as Wilbur turned around at the sound of the door opening.

He didn't say anything, just opened his arms invitingly as you stumbled forward, crashing into him and burying your head in his shoulder.

His hold on you was tight, he breathed in deeply through his nose, inhaling your scent as his arms squeezed harder around your form.

He had missed you so much. In those 13 years spent at the station, all he wanted was to see you one last time, to apologize for leaving you behind.

There had not been a single moment where he hadn’ t longed for your touch, for your presence, in comfort.

All that time he had thought he truly wanted to die, that this world wasn't for him. All that time you had been his deciding factor without even knowing.

But now that he had experienced it, was there and seen what it was like, he was sure of the truth, his truth.

Ha had a new lease on life and this time, he wouldn't throw it away. He had learned.

He melted into your touch as you leaned back, cupping his cheek and wiping away the stray tears he hadn't even realized that flew down his cheeks.

In your eyes he could still see the same love for him as he had seen that night. You still looked exactly like you then.

He pulled you closer, inhaling your scent as he realized he was holding you, the real, physical you, in his arms once more. You smelt like water, grass and the forest. It was a scent he would burn into his mind of he could.

You pulled him towards the bed gently, forgetting what you had been doing before entering the house and tackled him onto the bed in your hold.

His voice was rough as he spoke, pulling you closer against him as he mumbled against your skin. It may have taken him 13 years to do it, but he did it.

"I promised you I'd come back to you."

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Obviously oblivious [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: Obviously oblivious Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader Word count: 2k Published: 8 September, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first ever Fred fic. Don't go too hard on me, pretty please. Summary: You have liked Fred for the longest time and Fred has been having a crush on you, but you are just being oblivious, until he finally takes the first step.

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You were seated in the Gryffindor common room, talking to Lee Jordan and Oliver Wood about the upcoming quidditch match against Ravenclaw, when the Weasley twins stepped in the room with an identical smile across their face.

George plopped down beside you with a huge grin across his face, making you suspicious. You knew too much about their pranks and stupid little tricks. You didn't mind them as for some unknown reason they didn't include you in their games.

Fred sat down on your other side, throwing his arm across the sofa behind you, the same grin present across his face as his brother's, making you even more suspicious.

"How are you beautiful?" Fred asked sweetly. Using pet names with you has become a habit of his, but you didn't mind. You had a huge crush on the older twin, but your friendship was too important to you to say anything. You just enjoyed his company and treasured the sweet moments as long as you could.

"That grin across your face says I should be scared of you, so not too well." You replied, squinting your eyes at the boy.

"Come on, Y/N. Why would you think like that? We are just two happy people." George chipped in.

"When it comes to you, I can't stop thinking when I will be your next target." You spoke as your eyes wandered between the twins, lingering a tad bit longer on Fred.

"You're exempt of our pranks and you know that." Fred replied, getting hold of the end of your hair, gently swirling it around his finger.

"And why is that?" You asked. Fred's hand stopped abruptly, as if searching for the words. You have never seen Fred speechless, but it made the moment even sweeter.

"Yes, Fred, why is that?" George quipped in with an even bigger smile.

"Because you are my best friend." He replied, his voice more confident than he planned it to be. You felt your heart sink deep, even though you knew he only thought of you as a friend.

"Wait a second, when did Georgie fall to second place?" You tried to cover your pain with some humour.

"Yes, Fred, when did I fall to second place?" George joined in once again, a rather big grin spread across his face. You chuckled at his tone, but your eyes never left Fred's chocolate brown eyes.

"Can you just put a lock on it?" Fred turned to his brother who simply replied with a snickering sound. "Both of you are my best friends, you don't need to fight over me." He replied with a mischievous smirk.

"As if we would fight for you." You scoffed with a playful smile, exchanging a bored look with George.

"Not worth it." George took your side in agreement.

"Okay, well I'm happy you get along so well. You don't have to love me so much." He pouted as George stood up and took a seat beside his brother, both of you squeezing Fred in a big hug. You felt Fred's arm wrap around you, making you shiver in his embrace, but you tried to ignore the feeling, not wanting to give yourself false hope.

"We love you, Freddie." George chuckled. "Some of us may be more than the other." He smirked confidently, but you didn't think much of it.

*

The quidditch game was already on, both teams working hard for a win. Bludgers flew around furiously, the quaffle changed owners faster than one could see. Seekers attempted to follow the tiny golden ball which was dodging the players successfully.

Your eyes were fixed on the older ginger twin, his confident smirk taking your attention away from the game. You watched as he hit the bludger, sending it straight towards a Ravenclaw keeper, who barely had time to change direction. George offered a thumbs up to his brother, both sharing a nod in agreement.

You turned your eyes away, focusing them on the Gryffindor seeker, Harry Potter as you watched him almost getting hold of the golden snitch. You screamed from the top of your lungs, encouraging him. His hand was right above the ball, before gripping on it, holding it up in the air triumphantly.

You squealed in happiness. Jumping up and down on the spectator stand, celebrating with the rest of Gryffindor. Your smile was visible from a mile away and Fred wasn't one to miss it. He looked at George who just gave him a goofy smile, making him roll his eyes. He flew over to you, lowering his broom over the audience, showing you one of his mischievous signature smiles.

"What are you doing?" You asked as he offered his hand to you.

"Come with me." He replied shaking his extended hand, waiting for you to accept it. You didn't have to be told twice, even though you were not a fan of flying. You knew you would be safe with Fred, even if he was an annoying little brat sometimes. He pulled up the broom, forcing you to lock your arms around him. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking deep breaths, before you dared to open your eyes again.

"Where are we going, Fred?" You asked, your arms tight around his torso, trying to force away your fear of heights as you looked down, Hogwarts only a fraction of its actual size.

"On a date!" He replied confidently. Your eyes shot up, wider than ever, looking at the back of his head, his locks getting messy in the wind.

"On a date?" You squeaked in surprise as you involuntarily started letting go of his torso. He quickly got hold of you, placing your arms back around him.

"Keep a firm hold, darling." He chuckled playfully. "And yes, on a date indeed."

"Shouldn't you have asked me first?" You replied quickly, not wanting to give away the happiness in your voice, although you could swear he felt your heartbeat against his back as you held onto him firmly.

"I'm not clueless, love. I see the way you look at me, I see how you react when I touch you." He let out a barking laughter. You felt a blush creep up on your face, your mouth agape, leaving you with no words.

You could just about see a secluded area at the Black lake, a blanket laid across the grass, a basket sitting in its corner.

Fred lowered the broom, until you could feel your feet on the ground. You got off, letting go of Fred's upper body, feeling your legs slightly wobbly as your fear started leaving you. You weren't feeling bad, you weren't terrified of heights, but you were certainly uncomfortable with them.

You walked over to the blanket, looking down on it, feeling Fred's gaze on the back of your head. You crouched down beside the basket, looking into it, studying its content. There were mini muffins and mini doughnuts in a little box, a few slices of cake, a couple of fruits and a bottle of butterbeer with 2 glasses beside it.

"I can't decide if you are trying to make me fat or drunk, Mr. Weasley." You stood up with a grin on your lips, crossing your arms in front of your chest, raising a questioning brow, trying to shoo away your nervousness with humour.

"I didn't have any of those intentions at all, love." He chuckled as he stepped closer and got hold of your waist, your eyes involuntarily meeting his. "Although I wouldn't mind you putting on a few more pounds." He squeezed your side playfully. Your eyes widened, your lips parted as you sucked in the air. You hit his arm in the form of a reply, not knowing how to answer to that, but your smile didn't falter.

You removed his hands from your waist and sat down on the blanket, letting him pour you from the bottle of butterbeer and offering you the drink. He took a seat beside you, clinking his glass with yours.

"Why did you bring me on a date?" You asked, hoping straightforwardness to give you some well needed answers.

"Why does one take another on a date, love? Definitely not to play chess." He grinned, making you roll your eyes.

"That's not an answer." You pointed out, taking a sip of your drink.

"Obviously, because I fancy you." He replied confidently, making you cough as your drink went down the wrong pipe.

"Excuse me?" Your eyes widened at his words. You felt your face heat up under his intense gaze. "You never showed it, Fred. You always said I was your best friend." You tried to think logically, not wanting to believe his words.

"You are my best friend. Of course I would say that." He scooted closer, his body right next to yours. "But I was very obvious about how I've been feeling about you and you were just blind to it. George made fun of it on a daily basis even before I told him." He chuckled at your dumbfounded expression.

"I didn't... realise it." You frowned.

"Yes, I know. I couldn't be any more obvious and you were still oblivious towards my feelings. At times it was really frustrating." He scoffed. "I, however, saw the way you looked at me, how you reacted when I touched you, how you tried to turn the awkward situations into jokes. You have been even more obvious than I was." He laughed lightly, cupping your cheek with one of his big hands.

You couldn't ignore the proximity between you, your eyes wandering down to his mouth as his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. You looked up, searching for his eyes, watching as his brown irises fixed on your parted lips, before closing the distance between you.

You felt little butterflies tickling your tummy, the feeling intensifying as you kissed back. His lips were something that you have been craving to feel on yours, on occasions forgetting your eyes on them, daydreaming about what they could do to you.

And here you were, with those beautiful lips fighting against yours for dominance, making you silently moan into the kiss, feeling Fred's grin appear, before he deepened the kiss, his hand wandering down to your waist, pulling you closer. It was too much for you at once and oxygen was well needed. You parted, heaving a sigh, but you didn't back away. Your eyes remained closed, you were still under the effects of his kiss.

"It was worth the wait." Your eyes shot up as he laughed and laid down on the blanket, pulling you with him. You followed his movements and placed your head on his chest, enjoying the sound of his quick heartbeats.

"Were you nervous?" You asked as you listened to the irregular rhythm.

"I knew you liked me, but I couldn't be completely calm about it. If anything it made me even more nervous." He confessed, making you chuckle.

"Well, Fred Weasley, I fancy you, so you don't have to be nervous." You looked up at him as he watched your happy form with a big grin across his face.

"Oh sweetheart, I will always be nervous. I will be nervous about making you happy, I will be nervous about surprising you, I will be nervous about second guessing myself, I will be nervous about doing anything in my power to keep you close to me. It's not a bad nervousness though. It's more like I am excited." He explained and you let a cheerful smile spread around your face. You pushed yourself up and kissed him again, feeling his arm wrap around your waist as he pulled you closer.

"I am definitely excited. The big Fred Weasley is mine now." You chuckled as he ruffled your hair playfully.

"And you are telling me that I can't be serious." He scolded you with a humorous tone.

"I am serious. I'm excited about you being mine." You replied with a sweet smile.

"So am I." He pulled you back onto his chest, hinting a small kiss on the top of your head, making you feel content in his embrace.

Taglist: @inkhearthes @bonziandfonzi @hufflefluff-writer @fific7 @haphazardhufflepuff @obsessedwithrandomthings @kalimagik​ @accio-rogers @pcseidcnsvoid @harrypotter289 @nebulablakemurphy @firewhisky-kisses @iliveiloveiwrite @mytreec @chaoticgirl04​ @idont-knowrn @mayaaa-l @imboredandneedalife @pregnant-piggy @prongsies @iamobscuring @nhcwdw

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[entishramblings]

What Haunts Your Heart [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: helllllo! So first off, WOW thank you for 900 followers!! I can’t believe it enough of you think I’m this interesting to follow hehe. AnYwAyS....here is yet another Legolas one-shot because, as we all know, I’m obsessed with him

Request: @guardianofrivendell - Hi! Can I ask for a Legolas oneshot? I really love your writing and I want to see how you would write this. So you're having nightmares, and Legolas notices. One night he has enough and tries to cuddle you and surprisingly it works. So from then on he does this every night without you knowing he does it. Then one night you wake up before him and tadaaaa... Chaos. Can be romantic (please?) with a bit of angst?

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is a member of the fellowship and begins to have nightmares. Legolas notices and is very worried.

Word Count: 2,839

Warnings: fluff, lil bit of angst

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

A gentle chilling breeze blew upon the sleeping fellowship, dancing among their unconscious forms. It was quiet and calm—for the most part that is. Legolas was the only one not in a deep slumber. He laid on his back next to (Y/N) for the third night in a row, deep in his thoughts.

Concern began to pool in his mind as the sound of tiny whimpers met his elvish ears, not noticeable to any other. That was the only downside to heightened hearing he supposed—being able to capture the small whispers and cries of those suffering when no one else could. It was saddening; more so, almost always he could not do anything to help....especially now. Though, tonight the sound did not come from a distance village or a nearing war, it came from the woman beside him.

(Y/N) was a strong minded and smart individual; she brought much to the fellowship—skills of healing, fighting, planning. She was strategic and her expertise was valued greatly, despite her intimidating nature. All of these characteristics seemed to make her appear so tough and unconquerable; anything thrown at her she would throw right back. (Y/N) was a woman of war; she could hold her own, that was for sure. So, seeing her haunted in her sleep was....strange for the elf. Legolas knew she had seen many horrors, as he had, but what was so gruesome and troubling that it crept its way into her darkest dreams?

Another small whimper escaped (Y/N)’s throat.

She was on her side facing Legolas, which gave him a clear view. He watched as her expression distorted into one of pain and worry. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pulled tight. She began to squirm in her sleep, rotating so her back was towards the elf. Yet he still saw the woman’s small fist clench the fabric of the blanket draped around her.

A third cry flushed from her mouth.

Legolas couldn’t take it anymore. The sounds were so heartbreaking. They pulled harsh aches of agony from his chest, tormenting him with sadness. He couldn’t bear to see her like this any longer. Three nights he had witnessed this, and three night he had done nothing.

The blonde elf scooted closer to her until his chest was pressed against her back. He used his arm to prop himself up in order to see her face. Ever so gently, he brushed away the hairs that had come loose from her braid, revealing her tear stained cheeks.

“Oh, (Y/N).” He whispered sadly.

Legolas wiped the moisture away softly and spoke once more, “I wish I could take away what haunts your heart.”

He begun to smooth her hair and caress her cheek. The tender sensation seemed to calm her unconscious form for the tears stopped falling and her lips ceased quivering.

The elf could not help but stare fondly as he continued the light action. He began to trace the shadows that were created upon her skin. The moonlight accentuated them clearly, showing the sharp curve of her jaw and gentle bends of her features. When (Y/N) wasn’t dreaming of horrors, scowling at maps, or beheading orcs, her expression was calm and tranquil. She was quite beautiful, indeed.

Legolas forced his eyes to pull away and he quietly laid down, curling his body around her. As his warmth radiated into her being she begun to relax against him. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth and she stopped the shaking that previous racked her body; instead, she seemed to push into him further. Legolas smiled at her unconscious action. It was sweet and adorable, really. He draped one of his muscular arms over her waist and pulled her closer—if that was even possible. He buried his head into the softness of her hair and inhaled the lavender and forestry scent that lingered among it. He allowed the sound of her heartbeat and gentle breaths to take the place of the anxieties lingering in his thoughts. Being so close to (Y/N) not only calmed her, but it initiated a peace within Legolas as well. He desperately tried to hide it, but he had craved this closeness with her; he had craved this comfort. Legolas had never met a women so unusual—in a good way that is. (Y/N) cared not for dresses and trinkets. She preferred the outdoors to the safeness of stone walls. She was interested in skills beyond those of a stereotypical maiden. And Legolas adored this.

Slowly, his mind drifted to sleep as he blocked the nightmares from her mind, like a shield would to arrows.

......

Legolas woke the next morning to the light smell of charcoal and burning wood. It was comforting for it reminded him of the warm fires the elves would have in Mirkwood—especially during the winter season. But that comfort instantly turned into panic. His blue orbs flung open and his heart raced.

Oh how he hoped no one had seen the....compromising....position him and (Y/N) were in.

Of course, cuddling wasn’t considered compromising in the most basic definition, but it was reserved to those who were courting or wed—and Legolas and (Y/N) were neither of those. Yet, their bodies were molded together and their position held still all night.

The blonde elf sat up quickly to meet the grey eyes of the Ranger. 

Aragorn looked at him with raised eyebrows, “Are you alright, Mellon Nin (my friend)?”

Legolas’s brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly before releasing a deep exhale. Maybe the Ranger would not comment on the previous closeness of the two? He focused back on his friend but the look on Aragorn’s face did not falter.

The Elven Prince cleared his throat, “Yes, yes I am alright. I was just—just—“

Aragorn interrupted him, “Cuddling with (Y/N)?”

“Yes—I mean no.....I mean......Aragorn.....” he trailed off.

A smile ghosted across the Ranger’s face as he turned back to tending to the small flames.

Legolas sighed and stood up. He trudged towards his friend and plopped down on a dark textured log next to him.

“She has been having nightmares,” Legolas stated simply.

Aragorn glanced at the elf out of the coroner of his eye. “(Y/N)?” He questioned in surprise.

Legolas nodded, “She never wakes but she suffers greatly. I can see it.”

The Ranger stared into the coals that he was poking. This new information worried him for he had known (Y/N) for a long time—even trained her—and this was something new and out of character. “Do you know of what she dreams?”

Legolas shook his head and glanced down at his hands, “I always thought her so strong. I know not what haunts her.”

A long stretch of silence passed between them before the Ranger spoke once more, a teasing tone upon his voice, “So naturally, you had to cuddle her.”

Legolas sent him a glare, “Well no—I just—I—it...it was the only way to stop her cries.”

Aragorn sighed, the smirk that had previously plastered across his face faded into a serious expression. He dropped the stick and turned his full attention towards Legolas. “Don’t think that it has escaped me, Mellon Nin (my friend).”

The elf frowned, “What do you mean?”

The dark haired man shrugged, “The way you look at her.”

Legolas was clearly takin aback by this comment for he stiffened and drew his eyes away.

A light chuckle left the Ranger’s lips. “You forget I was raised by your kin. I recognize those elvish looks of longing.”

Legolas felt a deep blush creep up his neck and into the tips of his pointed ear. He didn’t know what to say—what could he even try to say? Aragorn had figured him out. But luck seemed to be on his side for the waking groans of Gimli halted their conversation.

.......

The past week had been difficult. The fellowship had trudged through rugged terrain and rough rocky tundra. It was taxing on them all, even the elf. In order for his companions to get the rest they needed, Legolas had offered to take nights watch more often when they were exposed with no cover. He still kept a careful eye on (Y/N) though. When he was not cuddling her he could see the dark dreams take hold. Her brows would scrunch together and the soft cries would return. Therefore, as soon as his watch was over he would wake the next and then nestle his body against the young woman’s. And soon enough, the soft whimpers and heartbreaking cries would end and the shaking and rustling would cease. No longer were her dreams filled with agony and fear.

For some reason, the thought of (Y/N) discovering Legolas’s nightly cuddles never crossed his mind.....not until it actually happened, that is.

It was sometime past midnight when (Y/N) unexpectedly woke up. The reason—she knew not. But she was surprised to feel so.....so warm. The nights had been getting colder as they moved north and the chill did not escape her every morning. So, the puzzlement of the additional heat flooded her foggy thoughts. (Y/N)’s tired brain began to process her surroundings further. She became aware of the extra weight wrapped around her waist—then the smell of pine and honey, then the gentle breaths near her neck. However, it wasn’t until the sound of a content sigh and the motion of being pulled closer into a firm mass, that she realized she was indeed curled against someone.

Alarm instantly fueled her body. (Y/N) immediately launched herself into a sitting position and turned to see just who had been cuddling her. Her wild eyes were met with the sight of a groggy elf who was entirely confused by the sudden movement. (Y/N) watched as Legolas propped himself up on his elbow and peeled his lids open. He slowly looked at the empty spot next to him, then feeling a gaze on his form, turned to look at (Y/N).

“(Y/N)?” He questioned in a disoriented daze, his voice deep and slightly raspy.

She didn’t answer she just stared at him, breathing heavily from the adrenaline.

Legolas casually rubbed his eyes with one hand before speaking again in a heavy whisper, “What is it?”

“Legolas?!” She hissed. Her voice was full of exasperated shock, annoyance, and anger. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

His brows pulled together as he looked at her in surprise, the curse in her sentence heightening his attention slightly.

(Y/N) clarified the question in irritation when he did not respond, “Why were you spooning me?!”

“I...was just...I mean I....”

The young women rolled her eyes before reaching outwards. A loud smack echoed amongst the emptiness of the night—drawing the attention of the uncrowned king on watch.

“LEGOLAS!” She whisper-yelled, “Wake up!”

The elf was cupping his cheek and his expression was filled with bewilderment—lips parted, eyes wide.

Cruel? Maybe, but it worked.

“Why were you cuddling me?” She repeated once more.

“You...you have been having nightmares. Crying in your sleep. This has been the only way to—“

She jabbed a finger at him, “Stop. Just stop.” She glared at him, “I have not been having nightmares.”

Legolas frowned, “Yes, you have.”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes and stood up, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” She crossed her arms. “I. Don’t. Get. Nightmares.”

The elf sighed, “(Y/N)...”

But she turned on her heal and stomped off.

Legolas let out yet another exasperated sigh. Did she think that he thought less of her for her nightmares? Why is she refusing to admit to them?

“Go after her,” the voice of Aragorn stated plainly.

Legolas snapped his head upwards to look at his friend. He was unaware that Aragorn had been watching and now embarrassment filled his soul. Had Aragorn really witnessed all of that? Even the slap?

The elf pushed those thoughts from his mind for he had more important this to worry about —(Y/N). He grabbed his two long-knives and went after the young woman.

......

Legolas made his way through the large rocks and jagged territory until he found her perched on a particularly large bolder, overlooking the land. He sat down next to her and held out one of the silver weapons.

“It is unwise to go off in your own unarmed.”

(Y/N) pulled her knees to her chest, ignoring him.

The Elven Prince sighed. He gently placed the one knife next to her and let his hands play with the second one. His gaze wandered across the horizon as the two sat in frustrated silence. The sun was just beginning to rise, the assortment of brilliant colors not yet bleeding among the stars. If it wasn’t for the tension between them, the elf would have felt at peace—which was rare during these dark times.

It was a while before anyone spoke.

“(Y/N), please do not lie to me,” Legolas stated gently. “I know dreams have been tormenting you and I do not think any less of you because of it. Tell me what bothers you so.”

A long pause stretched between them before (Y/N) released a shaky breath. Her eyes did not move from the landscape before them. “I have seen life leave so many—brutal, bloody deaths. Strider and I have travelled far across Arda, yet it is all the same—death. And now? Now that the ring has been found, is there to be any hope? I cannot watch another I care for die. Not again.”

Legolas glanced down at the knife in his hand, “At night they come to you, don’t they? You see their faces? That is what haunts your heart?”

(Y/N) slowly drew her gaze towards the elf. “They come for you too?” She whispered quietly.

Legolas looked at her softly, “They used to, many ages ago.”

Trying not to show her desperation she spoke again, “How did you make it stop?”

Legolas cleared his throat and took a moment to collect his thoughts. “I focused on what I could—the happiness in the present. Anchor your heart on what is in front of you—your friends. Aragorn, Gandalf, Boromir, Gimli, the hobbits....me. We are all bonded by this fellowship. Take comfort in it.”

The elf scooted closer to her and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her her ear. His touch lingered on her cheek and jaw. “Do not push your friends from you.”

(Y/N) lowered her gaze as a light blush crept up to her cheeks at the elf’s gentle trace.

“(Y/N),” he whispered. Yet she would not meet his eye. Legolas cautious tucked two fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. “It hurts my heart to see you in such pain. Why did you not come to me about this?”

She hesitated, “I did not want any of you see me as weak—especially as the only woman here.”

Legolas shook his head, “I do not. You are a warrior and this is something all warriors have to bare.”

(Y/N) nodded slightly and turned her head towards the sunrise. The two watched in silence as orange and pinks stretched across the sky, waking up the earth. It was a beautiful sight really. The soft noises of nature reached their ears, and as (Y/N) listened to the songs of the birds she allowed her mind to drift into thought. The elf’s words did indeed bring her some comfort and, quite frankly, she felt stupid for thinking the others would not understand. They were all warriors, were they not? Except the hobbits that is. They have seen the horrors of war and surely they would be reminded of it daily for it was not something one could easily forget. Though one question, slight unrelated, lingered in her mind.

She glanced at the elf beside her, “Legolas? What did you mean when you said it hurts your heart to see my pain?”

He glanced at his feet which were dangling over the edge of the rock before answering, “Do you not know?”

Her brows pulled together in confusion, clearly not understanding.

Legolas hesitantly leaned in. When (Y/N) did not back away, he gently pressed his lips against hers. Slowly, she responded, moving her mouth with his. The Elven Prince’s hand weaved its way into her locks of hair, feeling the silky strands as if they were ripples in a running river. (Y/N) then cupped his cheek with one hand, and used the other to trail up his muscular chest. The two pulled closer, desperate for the comforting touch of the other. The kiss was tender, soft, and wet. It was something they held onto tightly. It was the consolation from the horrors of the world, and they had found that safety in each other. Eventually, they pulled away, but reluctant to lose the other’s warmth they resting their foreheads together. The blonde elf softly caressed her cheek while they absorbed the comfort of the moment.

“Legolas?” (Y/N) whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for slapping you.”

A light chuckle bellowed from the elf’s chest and his lips curved into a smile. “To be fair, I somewhat deserved it.”

[glitxhwayventeen]

Bruises

Jeonghan: Chapter 3 (I Will Wait For You)

Characters: Jeonghan x female reader

General Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, suggestive, marking, mentions of mating, angst, fluff, potential blood mentions, runaways, child abuse, domestic abuse (and all that it entails), mental illness, cheating (sort of?), violence, death mentions, made up universe, genocide, Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: I absolutely love Jeonghan single dad. I don’t care if you don’t you can go to hell. It’s one of my favorite story lines I’ve made. It’s about to get soooo good, y’all don’t even know.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

☁️ & 🥀

Bruises Master List

Chapter 3: I Will Wait For You

Your eyes flickered open at the growing amount of light that was seeping in through the curtains in your shared bedroom. You groaned in annoyance at the sudden reminder of morning. Quickly, you wrapped your arms around the small being that was laying in front of you and flipped the both of you to the other side, facing your still peacefully sleeping mate.

This had been your morning routine for almost a week now: You’d go to sleep being spooned by Jeonghan, you’d wake up with Hyunwoo nuzzled in your arms, and you’d end up turning the both of you around so that the bright light from the outside world would stay at bay for just a little while longer. You hadn’t had such a family oriented consistency for centuries. At first, it was quite foreign to you. You weren’t used to such soft touches or sweet cuddles. But now that you’ve become accustomed to it, you absolutely loved it and couldn’t imagine waking a different way.

Your mate instinctively threw an arm over your waist while in his deep slumber and pulled the both of you closer to his chest. This caused the baby in your arms to stir and snuggle his little head deeper into your torso. You smiled softly to yourself when you looked down to check on the snoring infant. His chubby cheeks were all swollen from his long nap, his small mouth was drawn open with a tiny amount of drool threatening to spill down to the bed, his little nose was scrunched up similar to the way his father’s did when he laughed, and he was breathing gently. He let a gummy smile appear on his tired face for a split second before his face relaxed to its previous position and went back to normal, signaling he must have been having a good dream.

Hyunwoo had kept insisting that you be the one to constantly hold him and put him to sleep, he’d throw a tantrum whenever anyone tried to pull you away from his chunky hands or out of his limited sight. He always wanted you to sing old lullabies to him and be the one to feed him his food. Jeonghan even kept joking that his own son loved you more than him with a pout adorned on his plush lips.

Of course he wasn’t ACTUALLY jealous, he was honestly ecstatic that his son loved you as much as he did. It made him swoon that you both adored each other from the get-go. You never complained that his son refused anyone else’s attention and solely demanded yours. You would stop whatever task it was you were doing to give him all the recognition he craved. You would even get up to rock him back to sleep after he awoke from a nightmare in the middle of the night, even if it meant you wouldn’t get much rest yourself. He even had trouble doing that, and he was his actual father, he didn’t understand how you could do it while hardly having any real connection to the small tike. You were everything he had ever hoped you’d be and more. To Jeonghan, it was like you had managed to stitch their torn two person family together finally, making it whole with your caring and doting personality.

You were also happy that the little one had taken such a liking to you. Him and his father were the two people you cared about most in the whole world. The fact that he already seemed to love you as much as you treasured him made your heart go warm with joy. In your mind, you already thought of him as your own, even if you hadn’t known either of them that long, even if he wasn’t your blood. You didn’t care. It felt like you were always meant to be with them, and that one thought made you more happy than you ever dreamed possible.

Seeing Hyunwoo’s little face made you start to think of the life you could have with the both of them and their pack. You could imagine having lazy days in with them on the couch doing nothing other than spending time with them. You could picture being by your mate’s side as you watched his son grow to be a man as wonderful as his father. You even hoped that one day, maybe, you could give Hyunwoo a sibling or two so he would know what it was like to have a large family. You always loved growing up with your brothers, even if they were a pain in your ass most of the time. They always made life more interesting and you never once felt lonely while they were alive. You wanted that for Wooie. You wanted him and your mate to feel all the love and support a big family had to offer. You couldn’t help but let out a silent chuckle at the thought.

There’s no way in hell any of that would happen. Jeonghan didn’t seem like the type of guy to want more than one child. Not that you would mind, you probably couldn’t even have kids anyways due to the fact that you had never had a heat cycle before. It didn’t seem probable. So you just smiled to yourself, knowing full well that you could just devote all your undivided attention and overprotective maternal instincts to Hyunwoo.

Your daydreaming was interrupted by a soft yet fleeting voice.

He’s coming.

“What?” You questioned aloud juuuust loud enough to startle your mate awake.

“What? What happened?” Jeonghan said, very obviously having been jostled from a deep hibernation.

He’s coming soon.

“Huh?- Oh nothing. Nothing I just… I thought I- Heard something is all” you tried to reassure him by reaching your hand to his hair to twist it between your fingers softly, a failing attempt to take his mind off your small outburst.

His chest let out a soft pur, though his heart rate was still beating very fast from being awoken so suddenly and at the brisk contact you provided him. He cleared his throat before he continued.

“Oh… okay. Are you okay?” He asked behind lowered eyelids, finally starting to calm down. He moved his hand to his son’s head before he ruffled the tuffs of hair around gently.

He’s found you.

“Y-Yeah” you stuttered, setting your hand on his chiseled cheek and giving him a peck to his lips. “Just going crazy as per usual”

“But I like your crazy. It masks my snarky attitude perfectly” Your mate tenderly chuckled, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down very prominently.

He could tell by your spaced off gaze that something was actually bothering you, but he knew you’d tell him about it if it really worried you or when you were ready to. So he decided to just let it go.

“You aren’t snarky. Just sassy, and I like your sassiness. It’s oddly endearing” you bit your lip before you smiled and brought his lips to yours one more time, this time for a much longer passionate smooch.

Pulling away, you could see a content grin appear on his angelic face. The sunlight had melted in your room enough to glisten his silvery blonde locks in its infinite glow. It made you wonder how he always looked so good in the mornings.

“Are you hungry baby? Wooie needs to be woken up and fed soon or we’ll have one angry little monster on our hands” He informed you with a teasing pout, gliding the hand he had rested on your waist to cup your jaw.

“Mmm… I suppose I could eat. But I’ll definitely help you feed this little guy first to make it easier. After all, we both know he won’t let you feed him if he sensed I’m here because I’M his favorite now.” You quipped at him with a shit eating grin.

“You’re both our favorite princess. And I know you’re too hungry, I can hear your stomach growling” he beamed with a kiss to your forehead, “Now come on, I have to get the both of you up and nourished before I have TWO angry little monsters on my hands.”

You playfully smacked his shirtless chest before he sat up and started getting ready for the day. You gently woke the baby up before you all got yourselves dressed and made your way downstairs for the day.

-

After breakfast, which ended with Wooie getting mushed peas all over his cute outfit and the both of you getting food globbed in your hair, Jeonghan had Joshua and Seungcheol watch the tot so you could both take a shower.

Once you both got up the stairs, You made your way to the bathroom closest to your shared bedroom. Jeonghan turned the water on while you began to strip yourself of your now soiled clothing. You hadn’t ‘slept’ together yet, but you had seen each other mostly, if not completely, naked already from phasing around each other so frequently. Not that it would matter, you felt comfortable with him, so you didn’t have a problem being fully nude in front of him. You knew that if you didn’t want to take things further he’d never push you into it. Your happiness and safety were his main concern and after everything you last mate put you through, he definitely wasn’t about to pressure you into having sex with him.

Jeonghan had finally finished ridding himself of his own clothes. You both opened the shower door and entered together. You helped him wash the green baby food off from behind his ears while he helped you wash it out of your long hair. You were honestly really grateful he was there to help because that shit was caked in there and there was NO WAY you could get it out by yourself. You may have had some supernatural powers, but there was some shit even magic couldn’t fix.

Later after the gross stuff was soaped away from your bodies, you continued to finish your shower until you felt completely clean. The hot water felt amazing on your sore limbs. Jeonghan had offered to help clean your back and you happily agreed, not really feeling up to stretching your sorry limbs to reach the harder places just yet. Some of the boys had spoke to you before about how they didn’t understand how you were okay with him doing so much for you. They said that if it had been them, they would’ve snapped and told him to F off by now because he seemed to smother you. But you honestly loved it, it felt nice to not have to constantly take care of yourself all the time. You now had a mate who would do just about everything for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

When Jeonghan was dragging the shower sponge across your skin, he could see the remains of your faded bruises. It made his inner wolf whine. He never wanted you to have had to deal with what you had gone through. It made him so angry that your other mate decided to smack you around like a rag doll when you were literally the sweetest person to ever have existed. He did really hate that he had to call him your mate. He wanted to growl the second he saw them, but he didn’t want you to think he was upset with you. It wasn’t your fault your other mate was a fucking jackass. I mean, what kind of wolf would EVER want to hurt the ONE person they’re supposed to instinctively want to protect with their life? Still, he couldn’t help but finally ask what’s been bugging him since the day he met you.

“(Y/N), can- can I ask you something?” He whispered almost inaudibly from behind you while he ghosted over your shoulder blade with his hand.

“Of course you can Hannie” you replied automatically, still scrubbing the front of you body with the other soapy loofa. His heart leapt at the pet name you had given him.

“Why… why did you stay with your old mate when he-” Jeonghan paused, not really knowing if he should continue.

“When he… hit you…?” He questioned softly, not wanting to upset you.

You hesitated to answer for a moment and stopped the movement of the loofa roaming in the front of you. He treated you terribly and beat you until you couldn’t stand. He usually blamed it on some sort of contact you had had with somebody that day. Whether it was telling one of his pack members good morning to be polite, or simply having had stared a second too long at someone you passed on the streets, he’d always find a reason.

And some days he wouldn’t even give you a reason as to why he did what he did, he’d just start wailing on you. He’d call you every name in the book he could think of and he eventually broke you down to the point of you not even being able to raise your head up from looking at your feet. He always told you he was the only one that could ever love you and that you were worthless. Why did you stay with him?

“I… I really don’t know. I- I did even think about it when I was with him till right towards the end…” you trailed, trying to remain calm when speaking of a time in your life that was what you’d call your low point.

“I- I think the imprinting pull was too strong. I wanted to hate him, but I just couldn’t. Everyday I’d get up and think ‘this would be the day that I leave,’ but I never did. I always thought of how sad he’d be and how hurt he’d feel if I actually did it and I- I just couldn’t. The pull to him was too strong and I… I’ve always been too weak to fight it” you answered honestly, looking down at the drain near your feet so your mate couldn’t see the tears pooling in your eyes.

“Hey” Jeonghan spun you around to and tilted your chin up to look at him.

“You’re the strongest person I know. You left your mate. YOUR MATE. Do you know how hard that is? Even if he didn’t mark you, the imprinting pull is almost impossible to resist. But somehow you did it. Somehow you managed to do something no one else could do.” Jeonghan swallowed a hard lump that seemingly had formed in his throat so he could get out his next sentence, a sentence he knew would crush him to say, but one you needed to hear nonetheless, “You loved him. Part of you still wanted to be with him, yet you left for your own good, that takes a lot of strength.” He smiled a sad smile at you, kissing the top of your button nose, rubbing your shoulders with the tips of his fingers gently.

“I was never all that happy with him. He stopped being kind to me only a week or two after I met him and then he started being downright cruel. It got to the point where I was too scared to even speak in his presence without being spoken to first. No one even knew what he was doing is the sad part of it all.” You let out a dry laugh at the remembrance of your shitty life with your past mate.

“Everyone always thought he was too nice of a guy and I was just clumsy. He put on such a good act in front of people, he was poised and calm in public. He was helpful and considerate towards his friends. He was great with other people’s kids and was basically the parent to his pack as their alpha. He was kind to strangers and seemed like the perfect man anyone would want to bring home to their parents. He has everyone believing he’s a saint.” You scoffed at the thought, knowing full well no one would say otherwise even still.

“They never believed me. And I just took it. I dealt with it because I thought it was just my life. But then, He- He began talking about wanting to start a family and I- I ran.” You hiccuped, letting tears fall down your face as the spray from the shower helped wash away some of their saltiness.

Jeonghan was looking at you with sorry eyes the entire time you spoke, listening intently to every word that came out of your mouth.

“I didn’t want to have to have his kid. He’d- he’d hit it, just like he did me. I couldn’t do it. It’s one reason why I never let him mark me, I didn’t want him to make everything permanent and… get ideas. So when he said that at dinner in front of his whole pack, I ran away from him that night when they were asleep. And then- then you guys found me when I almost got caught. And now- now I’m here with you.” You wiped your tears away and gave him a trembling smile.

The way you felt for Jeonghan was different than the way you felt for your other so called mate. Jeonghan made your stomach fill with butterflies, your other mate always made your stomach fill with dread. You didn’t feel the pull as strong to him as you did with Jeonghan either. You knew that with your other mate, you’d rather die than spend the rest of your life with him. But with Hannie, you knew you’d rather die than spend the rest of your life without him. You weren’t really sure why or how it all worked. You situation was quite unique so you had no frame of reference. There was no guide on what to do if two wolves imprinted on the same wolf. There wasn’t a ‘how to’ on handling two different wolves love for you. You didn’t know why certain feeling were stronger or weaker. You just knew that you were happier with Jeonghan.

You also knew your other mate made you feel dirty. He made you feel less than human. He made you feel unworthy of Jeonghan’s kindness and patience. You could see hurt in his eyes as you stared up at him through clouded vision. It made you sick.

“And now you’re here with me.” He gave a reassuring smile back to you, kissing the crown of your wet hair.

“And I don’t ever want you to feel scared of me. Or feel that you can’t say what’s on your mind. I hope you know I’d never hurt you like he did and that I’d never let anyone else ever hurt you that way either.” He exclaimed, pulling your naked body in to his chest for a hug.

But why? Why would he feel that way when you’ve basically just turned his whole life upside down?

“But… aren’t you upset with me?” You couldn’t help but sniffle into his chest, trying your best not to break out in full on sobs.

“Upset with you? Why would I be upset with you baby?” He pulled you out of the hug and caressed your soft cheeks, looking deep into your eyes with adoration.

“Because I- I have another mate and- and I’m a mess. I barely even let you kiss me, let alone sleep with or mark me. Aren’t you upset with me because you can’t- can’t have your own mate?” You sobbed out, bringing your hands to cover your face in shame.

The sight broke his heart. He didn’t want you to ever think that. Not for half a second. He loved you just the way you were and would go at whatever pace you wanted him to just to make you happy. Sure he wanted to kill your other mate, and he swore to himself he would if he ever saw him, but he’d never want you to feel bad about needing time to heal.

“No baby. I’m not mad. In my book, I already DO have you. And I understand why you wouldn’t want to do any of that yet. I don’t want to rush or push you. You’ve been through a lot” he shushed you as he pushed a lock of wet hair behind your ear.

“I promise, I Will Wait For You as long as it takes. I want whatever you want. And you don’t want to do any of that yet. So I don’t want to do any of that.” Jeonghan cupped your round face in his large hands and had you look him completely in his starry eyes.

He’s coming.

But he’s coming (Y/N).

He’s coming for you.

Do it before it’s too late.

It’s gonna be too late.

Do it before he tries to take you away.

He can take you away if you don’t.

Don’t let him take you away.

Do something while you still can.

The voices were getting stronger and more jumbled in your head as you closed your eyes to pin point what exactly it was they were wanting from you. One main thing was clear from all of them: Do it before it’s too late.

You opened your eyes and stared directly back at your mate’s face. The urgency in the voices tones scared the living hell out of you. They were so rushed and loud, you knew it couldn’t be good.

“But Jeonghan… that’s not true. I- I do want you to mark me.” You let out before the voices could continue.

Your knew what the voices were. You knew what the voices meant. You knew they meant trouble was coming. And you knew this was a surefire way to make sure no one could take you away from Jeonghan. It would solidify your bond to him.

Your words stunned him. Had he heard you right? You wanted to wait for all of that a second ago and now all of a sudden you wanted him to mark you? That couldn’t be right? Could it?

“But… (Y/N)… I thought you said-” he tried to clarify your previous point out of concerned for your new answer, before you swiftly cut him off.

“I know what I said. And I’m not sure I’m ready for full on mating just yet. But we don’t have to have sex for you to mark me. I want to be yours and only yours.” You responded, grabbing his palms that were still on your face and bringing them to your lips to place a small kiss on them.

“But you already ARE mine. And only mine. In my book we’re already official. I don’t have to mark you to-” he tried again, this time with a bit less reluctance in his voice.

“I know that you think that… and I think that too. But I- I want you to mark me so I can really officially be yours. Please? You can do it so easily. Then we won’t have to worry about it again and we can go on with our normal routine. ” you cut him off, biting your lip once your sentence was finished.

“But (Y/N), it’ll hurt. It can be very painful if it’s not done during sex. And waiting until you actually want to mate means it won’t be as traumatizing. I know you think it’s what I want but baby-” he attempted to pull his hands from your grasp so he could bring them to your hips to get you to see reason, but you wouldn’t let go. And you weren’t going to budge on what you wanted when you knew what could be coming.

“But nothing. I want you to mark me Hannie. It’ll be quick, I’ll hardly feel a thing. I want this for both of us. Not just for you.” You defied.

He searched your face for any hint of this being a joke or to see if you were just asking for it to please him. When he realized that you were serious, he looked to the floor for a moment to contain himself before he looked back at you and nodded.

Your face brightened up and your wrapped your arms around his neck, greatly stretching yourself to reach him. He then lifted your small frame up so that he could press you against the wall of the shower that was still raining upon the both of you. Your automatic reaction was to lock your legs around his waist and kiss him deeply. You could feel him get hard against your thigh and he couldn’t lie, it was killing him that he couldn’t just bury himself inside of you already or at least grind against you for some relief. But he knew that’s not what the moment was about. He pulled away from the kiss with a small grunt before he gave you one last look and spoke.

“Are you sure about this (Y/N)? Marking is kind of a permanent thing and once it’s done it can’t really be… undone. I know you want to bond completely but we can wait if you want to” He reminded you while using his hand to move all your hair to one of your shoulders, leaving the other completely exposed for him.

“I’m sure Hannie. I’m ready. I want you to mark me” you pecked his cheek in response to ease his worry.

With one more nod from you, he quickly went to work in kissing the skin of your neck, causing a small giggle to come from your lips due to the tickling feeling his eyelashes caused. He then found the sweet spot right under your ear and began to suck gently, earning a little mewl from you at the euphoric feeling. He was trying to make this as painless as he possibly could for you. He knew without you cumming when he did it, it was probably gonna make you scream in pain.

Once he thought you were fully relaxed enough, he let his fangs fall and sunk them into the apex between your neck and shoulder. You couldn’t pretend that it didn’t hurt like a bitch, but you still only let out a small whimper as you grabbed the back of his hair to hold him to you. It felt like you were being sliced by a scorching hot pitchfork and all you wanted to do was yell. However, you knew the voices would only warn you if they thought it was extremely urgent, so you knew it was for the greater good that you had him do it. You’d have him do it at some point anyways.

Even though the pain in your neck hurt like a bitch, you had a wave of euphoria hit you. Your body felt like it was vibrating and everything around you seemed to dull in brightness.

Jeonghan pulled his teeth from your skin and grazed his tongue over the wound to close it and set in the healing process. Sure it would never fully go away as there would be a scar, but at least the pain would subside faster.

After a few moments of just staring at each other and catching your breath, he now had a beautiful pink glow surrounding him and it made you feel all fuzzy inside. You didn’t just feel woozy from the new mark on your neck, but you also felt like a part of you that had been lost for so long had finally been found. He slowly sat your feet back down on the ground and turned the running water off.

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asked you, voice laced with concern for your well-being.

“More than” you grinned at him, stepping out of the shower and throwing him a towel before you wrapped yourself in one.

You were still attempting to gain fiction back into your legs. Your vision was still shakey, but you didn’t mind. It was a small price to pay for the security of knowing your mate was now officially yours. You felt closer to him than ever.

“Are you sure?” He reiterated, not wanting to let the subject go until he knew you were completely okay after what had just happened.

“Yes Hannie, I’m sure. Now I’m yours and no one can say otherwise. And now we can go back to our little happy bubble of taking care of Wooie and hopefully going back to the room to take a nap” you joked, bringing your hand up to his face before you placed a chaste kiss right below his jaw. He smiled at the thought.

“A nap sounds like Heaven right now” he finally smiled and agreed, grabbing your hand in his before making his way to your shared room where the two other Alphas were watching his son.

They bid you guys a farewell and closed the door behind them once they realized you had just been marked, figuring you wanted some alone time together. Wooie was already sleeping in the middle of your bed, so you and Jeonghan decided to put some comfortable clothing and joined him. You drifted off to sleep with the image of your loving mate and his baby napping peacefully in front of you. You were perfectly content with staying in your little happy bubble forever. But, little did you know, your little forever was about to get torn apart…

(Updated 8/31)

[prince-of-elsinore]

Sam and Dean: psychological analysis and headcanons

In response to this anon ask from the 66 SPN Questions:

6. Do you have any psychological headcanons (or canon interpretations) of the characters?

Anon, this is probably not what you asked for. But I started writing, and kept finding more I wanted to say, until I thought--why not just say it all? And by all, I  don't actually mean all--this is by no means exhaustive. But it was a wonderful, self-indulgent opportunity to organize my thoughts on Sam and Dean's psychologies, and even find some new ideas as I was writing, and to put them out there so others can read and discuss. (Always happy to discuss any of this! Inbox is open.)

As a disclaimer, I know most of these thoughts are probably not original and may be retreads of many things fandom has been discussing for years. I'm not claiming to be breaking new ground here. Also, I sorta float backwards and forwards chronologically in my discussion--some parts pertain more to them when they're young, some to when they're older, and I don't always clarify which. Also, these are generalizations! I point out patterns I notice; that doesn't make them all hard and fast rules, because Sam and Dean are each human and complex!

Here's what you'll find below:

1. Core motivations 2. Happiness 3. Approval and secrets 4. Approval from authority figures 5. Need and attachment re: others 6. Sympathy and empathy 7. Walls—hiding vs. performing 8. Need and attachment re: each other 9. Ambitions and goals 10. Normality and monstrosity 11. Guilt and self-loathing 12. Autonomy and sacrifice 13. Personal identity 14. Concluding observation

1. Core motivations: Dean’s purpose is to protect Sam, obviously. Sam’s purpose, though a little less clear, is to save Dean. Sometimes it’s explicit, as in s3 and s9-10. But I think Sam also wants to save Dean, in general, from himself and from the life. It’s why he pushes against Dean’s obedience to their father. It’s why he tells him to get out and go to Lisa after he jumps in the Cage. At a certain point, I think Sam accepts he can’t “save” Dean without changing who he is, so he chooses to stick by him—because at least then he can make Dean happy.

2. Happiness: Dean’s happiness—or perhaps contentment is a better word—is knowing that Sam is safe and alive. Sam’s happiness is Dean being happy. In Sam’s world, things are good when Dean’s good. I think that, conversely, Dean wants Sam to be happy, and Sam wants Dean to be safe, but they both know and to an extent accept that those things are not within their control, so they focus on what they feel they can control.

3. Approval and secrets: They are each other’s north stars, guiding principles, in different ways. For Dean it’s “look out for Sammy,” for Sam it’s “what would my big brother think/do.” Dean doesn’t need Sam’s approval. Sure, he loves it when Sam admires him, but if he feels he needs to do something against Sam’s approval, he doubles down because approval from Sam is not the top priority. He’ll do what he thinks is right, especially to keep Sam safe, no matter what Sam thinks about it. Sam, on the other hand, does crave Dean’s approval and cares very much about his opinion. It doesn’t mean he won’t go against Dean (all the conflict of s1-5!), but it affects him differently. This leads to different kinds of secret-keeping: Sam goes behind Dean’s back to avoid his disapproval; Dean goes behind Sam’s back so that Sam doesn’t interfere with what he thinks needs to be done.

4. Approval from authority figures: Dean does crave approval from others—specifically, respected authority figures. The big one is obviously John. I think in a way it’s Mary, too, when she comes back. But it only applies as long as the person has his respect. Sam doesn’t crave approval from other authorities in the same way, perhaps because his primary authority figure growing up was Dean.

5. Need and attachment re: others: Sam is the only person Dean cannot live without, but he also makes outside connections of a friendly nature fairly easily. He’s the more socially outgoing brother who latches onto people like Gordon, gets friendly with Ash, and forges connections with Jo and Charlie, just to name a few (and Castiel at times—though their relationship is so inconsistent and often convenience-based I hesitate to include it in this category). Though Sam is Dean’s core need, I do think Dean thrives with other friendships. I’m not talking about found family, though I’m well aware of Dean’s tendency to call people “family” quite readily. Honestly, I think this is a manifestation of his craving for connection with others. Dean has an affectionate and playful nature, and let’s face it, Sam isn’t always super receptive to that—so naturally, Dean seeks out people who are. (I think this is also, in some cases, related to Dean’s craving for approval from others). Of course, none of those other relationships come close to the depth of his relationship with Sam, and when his relationship with Sam is at its best, I don’t think Dean really needs anything else to sustain him. But in reality, it can’t always be at its best.

Sam, on the other hand, doesn’t forge outside connections easily—but when he does, they tend to be deeper than Dean’s easy casual associations (even when Dean has real affection for someone, he tends to keep the tone of the relationship light). It’s pretty clear Sam was a loner kid, and I imagine it took him a while to find friends at Stanford, and even though he loved Jessica he still clearly kept many secrets. That’s the thing with Sam—he’s got walls. Dean’s got his own walls, but they’re different. Sam can seem emotionally open, but he protects his innermost self very carefully and rarely puts his emotions out there in a truly open way—even less than Dean does. I think this is a consistent personality trait for Sam, not one born of trauma (though perhaps exacerbated by it at times). In fact, it’s in later seasons that I see Sam finally, in rare moments, let down those walls, with Rowena and Jack. When he’s young, I think this was partially a coping mechanism he developed for hiding his desires/feelings, even from himself, because he was so unhappy with his life. It means that even though he’s an introspective guy, he’s not as self-aware as he thinks he is until he’s older and more mature. He’s very good at self-deception when he’s young, because as a thinker, he can convince himself of just about anything.

To circle back to attachment, what this means to me is that Sam, while he certainly appreciates close friendships and has a lot to offer those he cares about, doesn’t crave friends in the way that Dean does. I think he desires to be understood (this is a natural human need) but he’s much more comfortable with himself than Dean is, and is somewhat of a loner by nature. This means he’s also not (usually) going to be too affected by the status of his relationships with others. Dean is much more volatile and easily hurt by others (this is where Castiel is a great example).

6. Sympathy and empathy: On the surface, Sam appears to be the caring, sensitive brother, while Dean is brash and insensitive. This is a very incomplete picture, however. It mostly comes down to the difference between sympathy and empathy. Empathy is an involuntary response, whereas sympathy is something that a person chooses to express, though that doesn’t make it necessarily superficial—it also comes from an emotional place. Dean tends to be more empathetic, and Sam more sympathetic. Dean, despite his performative walls, is more easily affected on a visceral level by others’ emotions. He is more sensitive, more easily hurt or swayed to anger, and also more easily experiences empathy. This has nothing to do with what Dean thinks is right—it’s another involuntary emotion. He is sometimes moved to express this feeling, but he’s not generally concerned about appearing sympathetic. Sam, with his careful emotional walls, isn’t generally so viscerally affected by others, but he is kind. This is expressed as sympathy, because he cares about others’ feelings, and he wants to be good/morally right. On the one hand, it comes from an intellectual place—“it’s socially acceptable/morally right to express care for this person” (which Dean is less likely to care about)—and on the other, it is an emotional response—“I know what that feels like”—but a more regulated one than empathy, where one almost directly experiences another’s emotions.

7. Walls—hiding vs. performing: It’s interesting that both brothers have their own walls, which they construct as a form of self-preservation, but they have different levels of effectiveness in protecting themselves from outside influence. One difference might lie in what the walls were built in reaction to. Sam built his walls at a young age to separate himself from the outside world because, ironically, it was precisely what he desired, but was not allowed to have. He therefore consciously distanced himself from it, to dull the pain of not having it. The goal of those walls was to have something to hide behind, where he could remain generally unnoticed, so he could conceal his pain from outsiders and even from his family.

Dean took a little longer to build his walls—or at least to consciously do so. He already no doubt fashioned himself after his dad as a kid, and often put on a brave face—for Sam, for his father—when he was not feeling brave. He therefore became accustomed to performing at a young age, and performed many roles for both Sam’s and John’s benefit. He was unconsciously building walls with these performances, concealing his true feelings and desires. Later, I think this started to become more intentional, especially in relations with women/sex partners and especially after the Stanford split, as Dean realized how vulnerable to hurt his sensitive nature made him. It was much safer to perform all the time, and never let his real feelings show. For Dean, even more than Sam, I think he often lost sight of what those real feelings were behind the walls as he tried his best to be the performance he was putting on.

For a visual metaphor, I think of it this way: Sam is a boy at the center of a self-constructed labyrinth. He is almost always able to maintain control over how close people get (except when a few slip past his defenses, at which point he may be susceptible to manipulation). Despite all those elaborate passageways, though, there’s still Sam at the center. It’s lonely there, but he knows himself pretty well at least. Dean is a man in a mask who wants the mask to be his real face. He does everything he can to fuse himself and the mask together. They probably are fused at this point, so it would hurt to take the mask off. His memory of the face under the mask is hazy. He’s afraid, if he looks under the mask, he’ll hate what he sees. He’s lonely because no matter how close others get—and he lets them in close, can surround himself with people—none of them will ever see his true face. But he’s convinced himself it’s better this way, because if anyone saw his face, they’d hate it.

8. Need and attachment re: each other: Clearly, both brothers need each other. Sam’s need for Dean is different than Dean’s need for Sam, though. The way I see it, Dean’s need is one that requires reassurance. Perhaps it traces back to the concern about Sam instilled into him at a young age. I think it was strongly exacerbated by the Stanford split, when Dean realized his and Sam’s desires didn’t align. In Dean’s mind, Sam left once and can do it again—he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sam, on the other hand, has always been able to rely on Dean as a rock, a constant in his life—to the point that, in a way, he takes it for granted when he’s younger. Not in a spoilt, ungrateful way, but in that way that we, as children, might take our parents for granted—they’re always going to be there, right? That’s why, on the few occasions where suddenly, Sam isn’t sure of Dean’s devotion, the rug is ripped out from under him and he’s completely adrift and distraught—seasons 4 and 8 come to mind. Sam needs to be the center of Dean’s universe. When he fears that that’s shifted, that Dean hates him or has chosen someone else over him, it turns Sam’s whole world upside down. For Dean, the fear is that Sam will leave, but it’s a constant, background worry. For Sam, the fear is that Dean will hate him, but since he can usually count on Dean to be obsessed with him, it only comes up now and again. Only Dean can truly hurt Sam, while Dean is vulnerable to hurt from others—though, as always, the deepest hurt can only come from Sam.

9. Ambitions and goals: Sam is the one with greater needs and ambitions outside the scope of their relationship. For Dean, if he’s got Sam and he’s got hunting, he’s content. His greatest accomplishments are taking care of Sam and saving people, and that’s all he needs. I see Sam as craving other sources of fulfillment, though—academic/lore study for its own sake (the pursuit of knowledge), and a leadership/mentorship role. I thought it was very fitting that Sam finds these in late seasons, with leading hunters against the BMOL, then leading the apocalypse AU hunters, then mentoring/nurturing Jack. Dean has always had (and needed) a mentor/leadership/nurturing role with Sam, but Sam also thrives when he’s able to step into that role for others.

10. Normality and monstrosity: I’m just going to link to this post rather than repeat myself.

11. Guilt and self-loathing: This is something they both struggle with and at times, are defined by, but it manifests differently. I think their Hell traumas exemplify their different brands of guilt: for Dean, it’s perpetrator’s guilt. He knows he did something terrible and feels he can never atone for his past actions. For Sam, it’s victim’s/survivor’s guilt. He may not have done anything wrong, but there’s a certain amount of self-blame, especially for perceived weakness. This is another theme for Sam; one of the main faults he sees in himself is weakness—too weak to save Dean from Hell for instance—and as a result tries to shoulder things alone (killing Lilith, Hallucifer, etc). Sam has a need to fix things, to prove to others and himself that he is capable. Dean, I think, sees his main fault as neediness, but really, it’s a deeply buried sense of innate worthlessness. He was taught from a young age that his brother’s life—not his own—was of the utmost value. He internalized that his life was only worthwhile if he could save others, and has trouble with the idea that he, himself, has value beyond what he can do for others.

12. Autonomy and sacrifice: The above leads Dean to have a very constrained sense of his own autonomy. In general, he values duty/loyalty to others over autonomy (although when it comes to cosmic beings, he’s all about free will—see this post if you want more thoughts on that, and Sam’s autonomy). Often, his desire to control others comes from a place of frustration when Dean feels they are neglecting duty/being selfish. I think partially duty towards others is really a deeply ingrained value for him, but there may also be some buried jealousy at play, in that Dean wishes he could act with more freedom, put himself first every once in a while, but doesn’t know how to. Sam tends to value autonomy over duty (this doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe in any sort of responsibility—he’s willing to sacrifice for the greater good, after all).  This means he also tends to respect others’ autonomy, though we all know he can get plenty unhinged where his brother’s safety is concerned. The theme of Sam and autonomy has been talked to death so I’ll stop there, but you can click the link above if you want more.

13. Personal identity: One of Dean’s biggest struggles is with how much of his personal identity is received rather than self-determined. He is tasked with taking care of Sam and he is trained to be a hunter; these become the foundations of his identity. He says it himself: taking care of Sam is not just what he does but who he is. Then in season 3, his own subconscious mocks him for his lack of originality, styling himself and all he loves after his father, showing that this is a source of deep insecurity. This discomfort with himself contributes to his fear of being abandoned and left alone with himself. He doesn’t know who he is without Sam—or rather, is convinced he is nothing without Sam, which is why he fights so hard to keep him by his side. It also contributes to his general desire for friends, or better, family: people who won’t abandon him.

Later in the series, I think Dean has come to embrace his genuine self more. He’s nerdy and excitable and playful—and I don’t see this is as regression, but rather a healthy embracing of what makes him happy—not tastes inherited from his father. If it seems juvenile, it’s because it’s the first time in his life he’s allowed himself to express and explore these things. I think his relationship with hunting is also healthier; it’s no longer something he does because it’s the only thing that can give him worth. He does it because he believes it’s right and genuinely wants to help people. He has a more complete sense of self, and while it’s still totally tied up in Sam, he has gained some self-worth.

[I should note that basically everything I’ve written about Dean supports the headcanon that Dean has BPD—a headcanon I accepted after I realized this. For some more great writing on Dean and BPD, see this post by @venhedish.]

Sam has always known what he wanted for himself and rejected what was given to/allowed him. Wanting what he couldn’t have, from a young age, helped him develop an individual sense of self, not defined by others. I think it’s this difference in their sense of individual identity that leads some viewers to think that Dean loves Sam more than Sam loves Dean. He doesn’t, and losing Dean is just as huge a loss and a grief for Sam as losing Sam was for Dean. Dean is central to Sam’s life, and he can’t feel complete without him; however, his identity and every desire has never revolved as entirely around Dean as Dean’s has around him, so Sam has a foundational sense of self that even losing Dean can’t completely destroy. It’s what allows him to rebuild in grief and carry on (whereas I have no doubt Jensen’s right and Dean would waste away in the back of a pool hall without Sam). Dean’s central role in Sam’s life never disappears, though, and it is, in fact, what allows Sam to carry on; an effort to honor his brother’s memory, living in a way that would make him proud. There’s continuity in that for Sam; the craving for his brother’s approval and happiness never disappears. Seeking those things is what makes Sam happy, both in their domestic years together before Dean’s death and in the years after. They are both, after all, co-dependent!

14: Concluding observation: Sam and Dean have many similar issues, desires, and insecurities: the desire for a normal life, the fear of their own monstrosity, the desire for love and friendship, their need and love for each other, their desire for approval/to be admired, resentment at their childhood, the feeling of being impure and unworthy, the desire for freedom, issues with bodily autonomy. Sometimes these are seen as the purview of one brother or the other exclusively, but that’s almost never true when you consider canon as a whole. The difference is in how these things are internalized, sublimated, reflected, and expressed for each of them. It makes sense they would struggle with so many of the same things, because their lives are deeply intertwined and they are in the same boat most of the time.

[shihalyfie]

Daisuke’s characterization in V-Tamer is actually out of character

This is a post rather different from the usual content I do for this blog, and to be honest, I’m a bit hesitant about it, since it’s hard not to make it sound like some kind of scathingly critical negativity about the relevant chapter. It’s not intended that way -- V-Tamer’s crossover chapter with 02 lies firmly in “Bandai-commissioned spinoff” territory with what was most likely very little input from the anime staff, and with these kinds of things, right hand very rarely talks to left hand, and you see it in things like Tag Tamers having major contradictions with the anime despite how ostensibly important it is to 02′s story. Izawa and Yabuno were busy with V-Tamer production, and it’s very likely Toei and Bandai only provided them with very scant details of 02′s base premise (especially since the chapter itself doesn’t refer to any major 02 plot details besides XV-mon’s and Magnamon’s existence). I really do not blame them for not necessarily having thorough awareness of Daisuke and his character arc (especially since he himself is a rather deceptive character), and having to make a lot of assumptions while writing.

In the end, I decided to write this due to personal request from an acquaintance, who pointed out that there are a lot of people out there who like to claim things like "Daisuke got more character development in this single chapter than he did in 02 itself” (which is another manifestation of the constantly repeated fanbase mantra that Daisuke was lacking in that department when he really wasn’t). The thing is, this chapter’s interpretation of Daisuke is so far removed from the character he was even at the start of 02 that this “development” only works by artificially engineering a conflict that shouldn’t have even happened with Daisuke in the first place.

Again: This is not something meant to criticize this chapter as something bad (personally, I do think it’s rather entertaining in its own way) as much as, simply, out of character is still out of character, and I'm mainly just writing this in the hopes of making a case that this version of Daisuke should not be reflected back on the original series.

(Screenshots below are from the DH translation of V-Tamer, and PositronCannon’s 02 subs.)

The issue here is that the whole plot of the chapter itself is based on the idea that Daisuke is the kind of person who likes fighting for the sake of fighting, and has an impulsive urge to charge in aggressively to the point of even looking down on his friends for denying him. Certainly, on the surface, it does seem to match up with Daisuke still having difficulties adjusting to these new kids being his friends at the beginning of the series, and generally having an abrasive, rough-around-the-edges personality, but...

Ah.

The above screenshots are from 02 episode 7, which is a very early episode -- one that clearly takes place before Magnamon’s appearances in Hurricane Touchdown and 02 episode 20-21, and XV-mon’s appearance in 02 episode 22 -- and one that’s still part of Daisuke’s early bout of “shallow” episodes, in which he’s still instinctively lashing out at Takeru due to his perception of having something going on with Hikari. And while he does initially lash out at them for wanting to turn back, the moment everyone else makes a good case for them turning back (especially when their own Digimon run out of energy), he -- rather easily -- grits his teeth and actually calls the retreat himself.

On top of the fact that Daisuke is very capable of pulling back when he practically understands it’s necessary (even if he hates it), some important points need to be made about his behavior here: Daisuke does not push forward on fighting because he likes fighting and attacking things, but because he practically wants to see the Dark Tower destroyed (and the Dark Tower is causing problems for everyone everywhere right now). He hates the Kaiser, and wants to fight everyone under him, because he’s hurting others. Only one episode later, Daisuke vocalizes that he’s even okay with losing a soccer game as long as he gets to play someone who’s inspired kids all over the country and enjoy the match.

The other problem is that it actually implies that Daisuke would be able to do anything without his friends’ approval. Despite Daisuke’s ostensibly rough surface demeanor, he gets strung along easily. It is absurdly easy to shut him down or override his opinions just by being assertive enough. There’s a very good reason why he’s been described as “prevented from doing much in the first half”. Daisuke spends the first half of the series largely unable to make his own decisions because his friends keep making them for him, and part of his character development involves him becoming able to actually put his foot down and do what he wants when it’s something he cares about, which is something that very much does not set in until the second half.

In addition, the implication that Daisuke would be actively belligerent to the point of having the priority of “destroying enemies” instead of “helping others” is very contrary to the whole point of his character arc:

In 02 episode 20, the first time Daisuke does truly put his foot down against the wishes of the others in the group, it’s because seeing Chimeramon destroy so many things hurt him that badly that he hates sitting around and doing nothing. Again: Daisuke is a person who does things because he cares about and wants to protect others, not because he necessarily likes fighting. It’s also important that he makes this statement that he’ll go in “even alone” -- he does not look down on the others or show distaste for them for choosing to recuse, because they’re understandably exhausted, but simply says that he’s frustrated at the idea of giving up this one chance, and doesn’t want to squander it. (It’s also consistent with the way he treats the mortified Ken in 02 episode 48 -- he reminds him that Jogress won’t work if Ken’s not feeling up to it, and says that he’ll do it alone if he has to because something has to be done.)

And speaking of Ken, this trait of Daisuke’s is why that whole character arc of him reaching out to Ken works in the first place! Because, again, Daisuke hated the Kaiser because he was doing horrible things. The moment the Kaiser stopped doing horrible things, Daisuke didn’t feel up to kicking him while he was down, actually urged him to do the first thing he could do to make amends -- “go home” -- and ultimately chose to reach out to him because he thinks in terms of moving on and creating positive things, not for destruction for the sake of destruction. Because Ken seemed to not be hurting anyone anymore, and he’s actually doing something to help, so why not believe in him and let him help?

Again: with the exception of episode 48 (which is just reinforcing something from before), all of these episodes are before XV-mon’s first appearance in 02 episode 22. Daisuke had always been this kind of positive and supportive person from day one; those traits had just not been very easily visible because he was still trying to deal with his initial awkwardness and being rather rough around the edges, but they’re still traits he’d always fundamentally had.

The chapter continues with Daisuke actually looking down on his other friends and protesting angrily against them trying to pull him back. Beyond the fact that (as stated above) the anime’s portrayal of Daisuke would make him very unwilling to fight back against opposition at this point of the series, the idea he’d actually be condescending about his friends is a little...hmm. Because, again, in 02 episode 7:

Daisuke does momentarily lash out at Iori and Takeru in a moment of emotional compromise when he’s stressed over Hikari getting trapped in the Digital World, but he actually takes it back. Incredibly quickly. He apologizes to Iori, and decides to not let Takeru put the blame on himself, even though his emotionally-compromised moment had initially gotten him to instinctively try to pin it on him. (Which is important because, yes, even when Daisuke’s inclined to lash out at Takeru for his perceived existing relationship with Hikari and be jealous of him, he still cares about Takeru himself to the point he doesn’t want him to load himself with the guilt.)

Daisuke’s brashness is portrayed during this early part of 02 as him very, very badly needing validation. This means that going out of his way to push aside the people he calls friends would be the last thing he wants to do, because he actually wants their approval, and for them to like him, and therefore he’s willing to apologize quickly and try to make amends because he plays badly with actual confrontation.

While this line isn’t quite off, it does rather clash with the way Daisuke actually portrays himself, which is that he doesn’t really have this much of an ego. The literal translation of this line is that he calls himself “your cute little junior”, but even the more liberal translation used here doesn’t quite work with Daisuke’s character, since it’s not implied at any point that Daisuke thinks Taichi actually cares about him back the way he adores Taichi.

Again, Daisuke is an extremely deferential person who craves validation, and this is especially in the case of Taichi, who arguably is the one who creates the easiest mood shift in Daisuke for the early parts of the series. Whenever Taichi is nearby, Daisuke immediately becomes deferential and respects literally everything he does.

Observe Daisuke’s very resigned and very deferential facial expressions and attitude in 02 episodes 8 and 10, whenever it comes to Taichi (and note that the third screenshot here also comes from a situation where Daisuke wanted to advocate for pushing forward instead of retreating; it was that easy for Taichi to shut him down). For all it’s worth, Daisuke’s never really shown to have a lot of pride in himself (beyond the occasional joke), and it’s heavily implied that he sees Taichi as so amazing that he’s not even remotely in his league. That’s why it’s such a big deal that Daisuke puts his foot down and protests against what Taichi wants them to do in 02 episode 39, and it’s not even rudely or aggressively (he still uses polite Japanese!) as much as just firmly “I have a friend and I need to help him, I’m sorry.”

During the chapter, Daisuke claims that he doesn’t want to go back and meet his friends, because he doesn’t think they care about him, but, well, again: Daisuke is someone who craves approval. It’s somewhat understandable that he’d maybe have some degree of insecurity that they don’t like him as much as he wants them to, but the series by this point (remember, we’re talking episode 22, given XV-mon’s appearance) makes it very clear that Daisuke is well aware that his friends like him this much, and he has no real grudges against them.

This is one of the reasons it’s so important that 02 had so many scenes of the kids just...bantering in the computer room, or having tons of “free time off hours” that had nothing to do with Digimon fights, because although Daisuke is brash and rough around the edges, otherwise, the group of friends here get along perfectly fine. Once the stress of fighting is removed, these kids are part of each others’ social circle and love hanging out for the sake of hanging out, and even someone as dense as Daisuke should know very well that they do at least like him this much.

And, more importantly, whatever Daisuke might think about what his friends think of him, he himself likes them a lot. He cares about them a lot. Even all the way back in 02 episode 10 and 11, with Miyako and Takeru (whom he ostensibly banters and gets touchy with a lot), he still makes it clear he likes what Miyako’s doing and wants to check on her (without prompting), and later, when he gets in a fight with Takeru, he blames himself for not understanding Takeru’s feelings instead of feeling inclined to blame it on him. (In fact, this so-called hostility with Takeru is really overblown here, because there’s no reason Daisuke should think everyone takes Takeru’s side; when they did get in a fight in 02 episode 11, everyone was more concerned about getting them to calm down than they were about taking sides, because both of them did have a very reasonable position.)

And while Daisuke getting set off by the Takeru and Hikari issue might have been in-character at one point, it’s not for him at this point in the series, because 02 episode 22, the very episode that introduces XV-mon, has him take a completely different view of the situation:

Daisuke had already gotten over a lot of it by this point. The last time he shows any indication of Takeru and Hikari having ~something going on~ to the point he suspects Takeru of being an obstacle is all the way back in episode 17, which oh-so-coincidentally happens to be the same episode where he later learns about the truth of his seniors’ great adventure in 1999, and therefore receives the full context of why Takeru and Hikari knew each other beforehand (which they had been absolutely terrible at elucidating for 17 episodes). By the time we get to this epsode, Daisuke does not hold anything against Takeru himself, and he doesn’t even accuse them of having a thing, just moping that they “get along so well”. He’s not angry about it, he’s sad about it, and it’s heavily implied that he’s really just sad about being third-wheeled more than anything.

It’s also important to realize that this is long past the point where Daisuke would have shown any outright hostility towards Takeru at all. At worst, he maybe scoffs “do whatever you want!”, or ends up a little sad that they’re leaving him out, but he ends up putting this on himself more than he ever lashes out at others about it anymore. The grudge against Takeru had already gone long under the bridge, by this point Takeru is just a friend that he likes reasonably well and is sad to be third wheeled by, and it’s only 13 more episodes before he’ll stop bringing his crush on Hikari into the issue for the rest of the series.

And, remember, Daisuke has always been someone who does things “because other people are being hurt”. He’s not actually that selfish! Whenever people are really in trouble, he goes in to help them -- remember, back in 02 episode 8, he was crushed because Ken turned out to be the Kaiser, and someone indirectly trampling on the dreams of all the soccer-playing kids in the country. Had this been Daisuke from the anime, he probably would have immediately wanted to go back the moment he realized there are people in need and hurt left behind, regardless of his own feelings on his relationship with his friends.

The rest of the chapter is fairly on-the-nose, with Daisuke managing to create a “miracle” through the power of his feelings by remembering what it meant for Taichi to give him his goggles, and for managing to connect to his friends despite them being trapped, with Daisuke and Taichi eventually parting on good terms and Daisuke even getting the honor of doing the victory dance with him. This is why I want to emphasize (I’ll say this in bold) that I do not think this is a “bad” chapter just because it’s not compliant with Daisuke’s anime characterization. Given what the chapter sets out to accomplish, setting up a story of someone who feels neglected by his friends and eventually decides to reach out to them with his own feelings, it’s thematically solid and well-plotted out as a story, and the crossover and thought experiment of how Daisuke would react to an alternate version of Taichi is very entertaining. Plus, Izawa’s writing and Yabuno’s art is charming, and it’s lovely to see the 02 kids in this style.

It’s just, well, the entire premise of this chapter relies on a conflict generated by Daisuke being a character he is very much not. And, again, it’s not something that I can really criticize Izawa and Yabuno for; Daisuke’s quite the deceptive character, and it really doesn’t seem like Toei and Bandai gave them a lot to work with, especially since this chapter only works within a very narrow range of 02′s timeline, between 02 episodes 22 and 25, when V-mon can evolve to Adult but Ken hasn’t formally joined the team yet. (And in fact, I’d generally apply this sort of caveat to things relevant to Daisuke that come from the Bandai side instead of Toei side; too many things out there seem to only really be working with the base details of “Taichi’s junior who has a crush on Hikari” with no regard to the actual nuances of his character.) Personally, it seems that Izawa and Yabuno did their best with what they had to work with, and they even made it a fun chapter while they were at it! -- so I would simply say that it’s probably best to enjoy this chapter without thinking about the lack of canon compliance too hard, but also not to judge the actual anime version of Daisuke too much by this portrayal.

[forsakensakura]

Levi x OC.

Could honestly be an X reader if you squint hard enough .

As always minors DNI.

word count 1k.

Tw; LOTS of angst, mentions of character death.

SFW.

Enjoy!

I had been fully convinced that my lover lives in another universe. Perhaps, at the break of dawn during a spring day I would meet him. Or maybe, during fall he would appear to me. Possibly in a sweet dream? One I'd wish to never wake up from. My most ideal setting would be him chasing after me on a cold winter evening. I'd break into tears, the moment he professed his love on the snow covered road.

Maybe, as death leads me down the road of the afterlife, my great love would be there holding my hand. I'd see him someday, I hope. In another life. In another body. And perhaps I'd be more beautiful by then. More capable of being the woman he is supposed to have on his arm. Because how could someone so miniscule in this world have another to cherish for the rest of their life?

It would be lovely to experience… Though I don't think I'll ever experience love the way I want. Because in this cruel world, the word "love" has no meaning.

I’ve been forced to live in a world where the only thing that has meaning is death. Friends get devoured by gigantic monsters, many have screamed and professed their love for others in their final moments.

You see the thing is I believed all of this for a long time. Until you came waltzing in, wanting a better life for yourself and your friends. That day you lost Farlan and Isabel, I lost the man I thought I once loved. To be completely truthful I hated you for it, I cried myself to sleep for weeks on Erwin's floor. I blamed you constantly, but you had to go and mess it all up. First by becoming my friend, then by getting to know me, and the horrible things I've been through. It may seem like you're a blank slate, but those eyes of yours could tell a million stories.

I bet you're wondering where and when I started to fall for you. Honestly I couldn't even tell you, I just know this tiny feeling kept creeping its way through my chest. It would burn when you were around. The small hum you made when sipping a glass of tea, the content look on your face when you got done cleaning.

At first I denied all of my feelings and crushed them deep down inside of myself. I can't count the times I've been lost in your silver eyes, processing the pain you've gone through. Simply trying to understand how someone so beautiful could end up in a place like this.

This small feeling became a burning passion, I started to fight for selfish reasons, for my own happiness. Maybe one day we could be together. We could open a small tea shop, with a grand piano and more books than we could ever have room for. Spending our days together full of happiness and laughter. The nights would be full of love, warmth, everything I've ever been craving.

I quit fighting for the cause, and instead started fighting for this fantasy. Deep down I thought you might feel the same way, but you are so difficult to read. My suspicions were confirmed when I lost control when Shiganshina fell. Why else would you have pinned me down? You kept me from throwing myself into the endless wave of titans.

From trying to save my uncle who had already been devoured. I could tell from the way you stroked my hair, the sincerity in your voice when you comforted me. I noticed the small touches after that day, how you were always around me. How quickly you would crash through my door when I woke up screaming. I'm thankful for those nights, because even though we were both in pain it was nice drifting back to sleep knowing you'd be sitting in the chair next to my bed.

But then I had a realization after your squad met their terrible fate… How could I be so selfish and expect these things from you? On that day I was reminded how horrible this world actually was. I know I would meet that same fate, because death lurks around every corner. I was selfish for wanting to wiggle my way into your heart. How could I make you feel that same shitty feeling again?

I've been lying to myself. Thinking I could give you the world and more, it's an understatement to say I'd burn entire villages for you. But fate is a terrible thing and death is inevitable. I'm too much of a coward to tell you how I feel in person, or even when I'm alive for that matter. Which is why I pushed you away, I did it for you because I couldn't leave this world knowing you were in more pain. I'm sorry for being so shitty to you. I'm sorry for being so selfish.

In case I never mustered the courage to tell you these feelings when I was alive. Because like I said before, this is a world where love is meaningless. I'm writing this letter to you, in case I die. I want you to know that I do love you, in more ways than you could ever know.

- Faye Adams

Levi clutched the papers in his hands, dropping them into his lap. Revealing the small disheveled woman lying in bed. Hange gripped his shoulder.

“I know you want to be with her, but Erwin needs to speak with you. The kids and I will sit with her for now. I'll come get you from Erwin's room when she wakes up.” They gave him a soft smile. “She will wake up. Faye is a fighter, you and I both know this.”

The raven haired man stood up and walked to the door. “Don't tell her that Erwin gave me the letter.” His footsteps faded down the hallway.

They brushed light brown locks from her scratched face. “You will wake up and everyone will be waiting for you.” They whispered.

[purplehairedwonder]

An Awful Lot Like Hope

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Pre-Relationship Lawlu Words: 2308 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Nico Robin Note: I know this fic has been done before, but I still wanted to do my own Dressrosa fallout fic. This was written for the “New Beginnings” square on my OP Bingo @op-pirate-fleet card.

Summary: Law should have known that Doflamingo’s defeat wouldn’t simply cause the nightmares the end; trauma didn’t work like that. Rather, he felt like an exposed nerve, raw and jagged. But his conversation with Sengoku had shaken something loose in him, a fragile something he’d kept locked away for sixteen years: hope.

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

The morning after was… difficult.

Law made it through the evening after Doflamingo’s fall on sheer adrenaline—and more than a little bit of spite—helping to treat injuries once the remaining Straw Hats gathered in the former toy soldier’s cabin. Law was the only doctor present, so he’d shoved his own pain, exhaustion, and emotional turmoil aside, falling into the familiar rhythms of cleaning, stitching, and dressing wounds—including his own. In some ways, the distraction was welcome because it kept him from thinking about the day’s events.

Once everyone’s wounds were treated—Law’s own and Luffy’s requiring the most attention—the adrenaline drained out of him, leaving Law feeling hollow, and he had unceremoniously passed out on the floor of the cabin. He woke up in the grey hours of the early dawn with a gasp, the echoes of gunshots and laughter still echoing in his ears. He jolted upright but immediately curled in on himself as the gunshot wounds on his chest and abdomen protested loudly. He took a moment to catch his breath, willing his heart rate to calm down, before looking around the dark cabin. Everyone else was still asleep. Someone had covered him in a blanket at some point, he noted absently.

His thoughts immediately turned to the events of the previous day—traitorous brain—and he knew he had no chance of falling back asleep, no matter how much his body desperately craved it for healing. Insomnia was an old friend, after all. With a weary sigh, he grabbed Kikoku and used her to stand. His vision spun as he unsteadily made it to his feet, and he forced himself to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth until the dizziness passed; he knew he shouldn’t be up and moving with the serious wounds he had sustained the previous day, but Law had never been a very good patient.

Besides, in the wake of his nightmare, the walls of the cabin were starting to feel like they were pressing in on Law like the walls of the treasure chest Cora-san had placed him in thirteen years before. His skin crawled, his stomach turned, and he could feel his heartrate picking up again; he braced himself against the wall with his good arm and stumbled as quickly as he could to the door, nearly tripping over himself once he got the door open and the cool morning air hit him in the face. He managed to shut the door behind him and lurched forward into the pre-dawn.

He made it a half dozen steps from the cabin before he doubled over and vomited, and it seemed like every nerve in his body was screaming against the violent spasms wracking his frame until he was left dry heaving. Once his body stopped shaking, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glanced back at the cabin, thankful that no one seemed to have noticed his breakdown.

Swallowing against the taste of bile in his throat, he tried to summon a Room to grab some water, but the blue dome faltered and blinked out of existence almost immediately after appearing. Law’s shoulders slumped; he’d overextended his powers during the fight with no regard to the cost, considering he hadn’t expected to see the end of the day. Now that he was alive the morning after, he would be paying the consequences for the overuse.

He would be paying the consequences for everything he’d done to get to this point.

Once he felt steady enough to start walking again, Law trudged forward into the field of flowers and walked until his legs simply gave out from under him. It wasn’t actually that far from the cabin, considering how weak he still was, but it provided enough distance for him to breathe again, to not feel confined by the walls. He rested Kikoku on the ground to his left and looked out toward the still sleeping city.

He should have known that Doflamingo’s defeat wouldn’t simply cause the nightmares the end; trauma didn’t work like that. Rather, Law felt like an exposed nerve, raw and jagged, as the confrontation had dredged up every painful memory he’d spent the last thirteen years trying to keep bottled up.

As he sat by himself in the cool, quiet morning, he found himself wondering what Cora-san would think of him now. Law had come to Dressrosa with every intention of killing Doflamingo—and if he hadn’t been able to do it himself, he’d created a failsafe that would have resulted in Doflamingo’s death at Kaido’s hands. Cora-san hadn’t been able to pull the trigger that day on Minion Island because, despite everything, Doflamingo was still his brother and Cora-san had loved him. He’d wanted to arrest his brother and turn him over to the Marines to face justice. Law, after Flevance, didn’t believe in justice the way Cora-san had. Law knew he was more like Doflamingo in that way, broken and cruel; perhaps part of Law would always be that ten-year-old boy with bombs strapped to his chest looking for destruction.

He could have pulled the trigger.

But he’d been too weak.

The weak don’t get to choose how they die.

Doflamingo’s lessons continued to rear their ugly head, as Law had gone into Dressrosa expecting to die and couldn’t even do that right.

But with Doflamingo in Marine custody, hadn’t Cora-san’s ambition been fulfilled? Wasn’t that what he’d wanted all along?

Law sighed and rubbed his face through his hands. He was so tired.

Law found himself drifting between semi-consciousness and wakefulness, memories playing in his mind’s eye. Of his family. Of the Family. Of Cora-san. Of his crew. Of Luffy.

Law started when a familiar figure sat down next to him, pressing into his personal space. Law frowned when he realized the sun was starting to rise over the ruined capital city; he hadn’t noticed the passage of time.

“Torao,” Luffy said quietly. Law was surprised to see him; after treating his wounds, Law had thought the younger captain would be sleeping for days after the damage he’d taken during the fight. Then again, Law should also be sleeping for days considering his own wounds and here he was.

Law didn’t trust his voice so said nothing, eyes turning back to the city. It would start waking up at any moment to face the herculean task of rebuilding ahead.

“You look cold,” Luffy said after a few quiet moments.

Law blinked. He hadn’t realized it until that moment, but he was cold—though he wasn’t sure how much of it was the cool morning air and how much of it was just him. “I’m okay,” he replied finally.

Luffy seemed unimpressed with the answer so scooted closer, radiating warmth. Law, for some unknown reason, let him. It was easier than fighting him on something so small, he told himself. They were both exhausted and wounded, after all. Luffy had curled himself around Law’s side, though he was being careful with Law’s injured arm.

“How long have you been out here?”

“Awhile.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“I don’t sleep much.” He knew the Straw Hats had noticed his insomnia in the days he’d spent on their ship. He glanced at his companion out of the corner of his eye; Luffy, on the other hand, never seemed to have problems sleeping. “What about you?”

Luffy shrugged and scratched the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. “I woke up and saw Torao was gone.”

“You came to find me?”

“Mhm!” Luffy grinned, and Law’s breath caught in his throat as he, for the briefest of moments, was looking at Cora-san. (“Law, I love you!”) Then it was Luffy again, and Law didn’t know what to do with that.

Law hummed in response, not quite sure what to say. Luffy seemed content just to sit, though, and after a time, the sounds of the waking city started to echo across the field. Law felt his eyes beginning to droop. He wasn’t cold anymore. He blinked a few times but found himself melting into the figure wrapped around him, a warm comfort like Cora-san’s coat had once been.

“S’okay, Torao. I’ve got you,” Luffy murmured as Law slipped into sleep.

-----

Robin awakened slowly, sleep trying to keep its hooks in her after the previous day’s events; she slowly sat up, minding her wounded back. Once she was upright, she assessed the one-room cabin and noted the numerous sleeping figures in the dawn light pooling in through the windows, warmth in her chest as she assessed her nakama, alive after yet another miraculous victory.

Except, she noted with some surprise, the two missing captains. Blankets were discarded haphazardly where both men had fallen asleep the night before.

She pushed herself to her feet. She glanced around once more, and no, neither man was inside. Hm. They couldn’t have gotten far, considering their wounds. As she looked around, she caught Zoro’s one open eye; he silently nodded toward the door. Robin smiled back at him, and he shut his eye again.

Robin carefully maneuvered through the maze of sleeping bodies on the cabin floor and opened the front door. A short distance away two forms were lying on the ground. Alarm jolted through Robin; what if their wounds had reopened? She tapped into her Fruit, manifesting an eye on a flower near the pair…

And all tension left her body.

Both men were fast asleep, Luffy curled protectively around Law, one hand on Law’s gauze-wrapped arm and the other on his hip, pulling him close.

Robin smiled. She’d ask Zoro to bring them back inside after a bit.

-----

The Going Luffy Senpai was as ridiculous as its captain, and Law had little interest in joining in the festivities after the formation of the Straw Hat Grand Fleet. Zoro had roped him into the celebration despite his numerous protestations, but once he’d finally extricated himself, he managed to find a quiet spot away from the chaos. He found himself looking back toward Dressrosa, though it was long out of view.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Nico Robin came up next to him. “You achieved your goal by taking down Doflamingo, didn’t you? What are you going to do next?”

He brushed her off, brusque, mostly because he didn’t have an answer. He retreated to another quiet part of the ship and rested his elbows on the railing. After sleeping through most of the first day after the battle, he’d spent the last two days thinking, ignoring Luffy’s protestations that “Torao thinks too much!”

But his conversation with Sengoku earlier that day had shaken something loose in him, a fragile something he’d kept locked away since Lami collapsed at the festival.

“Don’t try to find a reason for somebody’s love.”

Law had spent so long certain that Cora-san had saved him because of his name. If Cora-san had saved him because he was a so-called enemy of the gods, that meant Law had a purpose. It meant he had something to live for, a reason for all the pain he endured. He could make Cora-san’s sacrifice mean something. It meant he could pay him back.

If Cora-san had saved Law out of love, what did Law do with that?

“If you really want to do something in his memory, you and I should always remember him. That’s good enough. And you live your life as you like. That’s what he would say.”

Law sighed and turned around, leaning back against the railing. He absently ran his fingers over his bandaged arm and looked up at the blue sky. He felt a bit like his arm, torn apart and put messily back together, never quite the same, never quite whole again.

Live your life as you like.

What did Law want?

Law hadn’t expected to live past thirteen, and yet he had. Every day felt like borrowed time that he didn’t know what to do with, so he ended up spending it living for others, from studying medicine to become like his parents to seeking the Family’s approval and then living to avenge Cora-san. Law didn’t know where others’ expectations ended and Law began. In the last twenty-six years, had there ever really been a Trafalgar Law? Or just a mosaic of other people in the shape of a man?

“Torao!”

Law let out a startled oof as Luffy sprang at him, wrapping himself around Law, all frenetic energy—yet somehow also careful of Law’s injuries.

“What, Straw Hat-ya?” Law asked, exasperated—and, okay, maybe a little bit amused.

Luffy grinned into Law’s face. “Hi!”

Law waited for more, but Luffy just kept grinning. “That’s it? You assailed me just to say hi?”

“Yep!”

Law rolled his eyes, though he felt his lips twitching upward. Traitors. “Hi,” he finally said back.

The grin he received in return was blinding, and that fragile piece of something that had come loose in his chest warmed.

Luffy unwrapped himself from Law but grabbed onto his hand. He dropped to the deck, back against the railing, and tugged Law’s hand until the older captain joined him. He immediately launched into a story about Bartolomeo’s wall of Straw Hat bounties and the change in Sanji’s poster. He was gesturing wildly—but he hadn’t let go of Law’s hand.

Law was transfixed.

Oh, he suddenly realized as he watched the way his tattooed fingers slotted in Luffy’s smaller hands as though they belonged. That fragile something he’d kept locked away for the last sixteen years felt an awful lot like hope.

Live your life as you like. That’s what he would say.

And here, at this moment on the Going Luffy Senpai, it felt an awful lot like a new beginning

fin

[atsukashii]

❝chance encounter❞ // k. takami

SYNOPSIS: ➛ bickering with Japans number 2 hero about ice cream flavours in a supermarket wasn’t how you expected to spend your Friday night

» CHARACTER PAIRING: keigo takami/hawks x reader

» WORD COUNT: 2.9K

» GENRE: normal?

» WARNINGS: swearing & fluff and just crack really

« masterlist || ao3 »

You had been craving mint chocolate ice cream literally all day. But then again, craving anything with exceedingly high levels of sugar and crap-loads of chocolate wasn’t anything new recently. In times like these, owning your own bakery was both the best decision you’ve ever made, and a huge mistake. Considering you had been up since three am baking away in the kitchen of your cafe and had snacked on basically one of every sweet thing that came out of the oven and anything you had in the display cabinet, if you kept this up you’d have to get a gym membership. But right now, you wanted mint chocolate ice cream. You look down at your stomach and for a moment, the thought of eating healthily crosses your mind. The thought is, however, instantly pushed out by the idea of you, on your couch, in your pj’s, with a pint of mint chocolate ice-cream, watching TV and de-stressing about the absolutely crappy day you had. That sounds way better. 

Walking straight down the candy aisle of the supermarket, you don't even bother glancing at your basket as you toss in chocolates, chips, soft drinks, and any unhealthy food you can physically get your hands on. Out of the corner of your eye, you see an old lady coming towards you with a trolley, who looks up from her list, and eyes your basket with disdain. 

Cut me some slack, you want to snap at her, I’m heartbroken and pissed off! 

You ignore the dirty look she gives you, and snatch a bottle of Coke off the shelf. You were very much aware that you currently looked like you had been digging through garbage all day. Your clothes - even though you wore an apron - no doubt have flour on them, your hair looks like a rat made its home on your head, and your eyes dry and itchy from crying. You knew you looked like a mess, you have just surpassed the threshold of actually caring about your appearance. Like your ex didn’t care about showing up at your shop with his new thing after dumping me only two weeks ago… 

The second your friend and co-owner of the cafe saw him in the store, they kicked him out, wielding the broom like a weapon. You had wished that they smacked him in the face with it, but fearing assault charges - they didn’t. He didn’t leave however, until after he had flaunted his new relationship in your face. You had thankfully moved on past the whole, ‘why’ stage of the breakup, and came to the conclusion it was purely because he was a trash human being.  However, to say that it didn’t hurt seeing him holding another girl’s hand and acting like he used to do with you, with someone else - well that would be a lie. It had been two weeks after all, and considering you had been together for two years - it felt as if those 24 months had meant nothing to him. 

So now, you wanted to drown your pain in chocolates, and mint chocolate ice cream and no one was going to stand in your way.

You walk over to the freezer section of the store with confidence in your step, suddenly excited to get home and start bingeing the romance section on Netflix. That enthusiasm quickly dies as you reach for the handle of the freezer, your eyes locking onto the empty row where your favorite ice cream flavor always sat. You’re joking… You blinked at the glass as if trying to force the food into being before you. 

There. Is. None. Left.

“You’ve got to be kidding me right now,” you groan. Of all days for there to be a shortage, it had to be today. You look down at your basket of Oreos, pocky’s, soft drink, chips, and everything else you had craved the second you saw it on the shelves. I’d trade it all for ice cream though… Resting your head on the cold glass of the freezer, you let out a groan of frustration. This was just the topping to an already crappy day. It was ironic when people say not to cry over spilled milk - and here you were wanting to cry over ice cream.

“Tough day?” A voice startles you away from the fridge. Following the sound, your head snaps to your left where your eyes immediately meet a golden pair that have your lungs spluttering and frantically, trying to figure out how the heck to breathe. Okay, he’s attractive. Like really attractive. His golden eyes are practically glowing at you with amusement, his hair looking like liquid gold - and super soft. You kinda want to touch it. In washed-out black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a denim jacket stopping the cold from the open freezers, he looks too attractive to be real. But then your eyes lock onto the red wings, peeking from behind his shoulders and you know who he is in an instant. The question though, was why the heck the number two pro hero Hawks was even currently talking to you right now. Realizing you hadn’t answered him yet, and instead, were just checking him out instead for god knows how long, you clear your throat and reply.

“Tough week.” You correct, pulling yourself together before looking down at your basket again, hoping it doesn’t look as pathetic as the rest of you. “And to top it off, there’s none of my favourite ice cream left.” Letting out a groan, you shift on your feet. You don’t know why you just said that maybe you didn’t want the attractive blonde hero to go just yet. 

With an over-dramatic wince, Hawks leans his shoulder against the glass, as chilled out as the food inside the freezer. “Ouch, I know that feeling. That’s true betrayal,” he says, his eyes playful. It brings a small smile to your lips, and he takes that as an opportunity to stick out his hand to you. “Keigo Takami,” Hawks introduces himself as if you didn’t know who he was. Maybe he doesn’t think you would know… With a friendly smile and butterflies flying frantically inside your stomach, you shake his hand.

“Y/n Y/l/n. It’s nice to meet you,” you reply, trying not to think about how big his hand is compared to your own. God, was there flour on your hands right now? You prayed you had managed to wash it all off fully and that you didn’t suddenly look as run-down as you thought you did. Quickly -but not too fast to make him think you didn’t want to touch him- you drop the handshake and wipe your hands as inconspicuously as you can, on your jeans. 

“Beautiful name,” he glances at the empty ice-cream shelf. “But a girl with questionable choices in ice cream flavours.” You gape at Keigo in utter shock. Oh, he did not just say that.

“You did not just say that.” You repeat out loud. 

“I’m afraid so.” He answers, one hand in his pocket the other holding his basket, and a care-free smile covering his lips. “Who likes mint choc anyways?” For a moment you sputter for a response at this blatant ridicule against the best ice-cream flavour to ever exist. You will happily fight anyone on that, including the number two pro hero in Japan.

“Intelligent people, that’s who.” You argue back. “I bet you’re the kind of person whose favourite is vanilla.” His golden eyebrows shoot up at your words. 

“What’s wrong with good old fashioned vanilla Y/n?” Your name slips off his tongue like pure honey and it would normally send shivers down your spine. No, you will not look past this obvious disrespect against your ice cream preferences, not even for hot guys. No, you will not.

“It’s the most boring flavour to ever exist.”

“And mint choc isn’t?” He asks like it's a loaded question. Shaking your head at both his uneducated taste buds and this whole conversation, it begins to dawn on you that you’re smiling. When was the last time you smiled a lot recently? You question yourself, trying to wind back through your hazy memories of the past two weeks - and coming up with nothing.

“Mint chocolate is the best. You should tell your taste buds that what the ice-cream they think they enjoy is crappy ice-cream.” and Hawks is grinning at you, it’s a smile that is contagious, and has your own growing bigger with every passing word. 

“I’ll be sure to let them know.” God this whole conversation was one of the weirdest you had ever had in your life. And the fact that you had it with a pro hero, and Hawks for that matter...that just made it thirty times more strange. Looking back to the freezer, you decide you still want ice cream and settle for strawberry and cream, which earns a look from hawks as you put it in your basket. 

“Shut up,” you defend, fake glaring at the blonde. Holding his hands up feigning innocence, Keigo shrugs at you.

“I didn’t say anything sweet-cheeks.” Your cheeks in question flush hotly at the term, and you quickly fiddle with the handle of your basket, giving you something to do so you don’t stand there looking like a complete idiot at his blatant flirting. 

“But if you’re going to question my taste buds, then yours must be just as bad. Because last time I checked, Wagon Wheels were still way better than Oreo's.” His eyes meet yours, delight swirling inside his liquid golden irises and you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out your lips, shaking your head slightly.

“Okay, you’re definitely crazy.”

“Only a little bit,” Keigo smirks before his smile falls at the contents of your basket. You square your shoulders, knowing that there’s a chance that he might give you shit for its contents like that old lady from before. But the words that do come from his mouth surprise you.

“Was that the last KitKat?” Immediately, you look at the red packaging of the chocolate block inside your basket, and then back to the pro hero who is now gazing at it like it's made of diamonds. Hawks look’s like you imagine you had when you’d grabbed it off the shelf, seeing that it was the last one and deciding that it had to be some sort of sign that things were looking up for you. That was, of course, before you had seen the travesty of the empty mint chocolate shelf of the supermarket freezer. 

“I’ll trade you.” Keigo suddenly says, making you eye the man. “I’ll trade you the KitKat for this,” he finishes, reaching into his basket and… pulls out a fucking tub of choc mint ice cream. Are you kidding me??

“You’re joking.” Staring at him, at the sheepish smile across his face, you shake your head.

“Afraid not.” He tilts his head at you. “That is unless you don’t want it…” going to lower the tub back into his basket, a noise comes out of your throat that has him smirking again. Embarrassment flooding your features, you shift slightly and glare at the hero.

“I thought you didn’t like that flavour?” You point out, wanting to know what the hell was going on. 

“Oh no I do - it's one of my favourites. I just needed a reason to keep on talking to you,” Keigo admits unashamedly as you feel your cheeks warm again. If I was ever questioning if he was hitting on me…

“Oh,” is all you can manage to get out before your brain begins to catch up with the world again. “Well, in that case, I’ll trade.” Agreeing, you pass him the chocolate block and he gives you the tub of ice cream, your hand brushes him and you try not to act like a crazy person about how attracted to him you are.

“Thank you,” you try to say but it comes out as a slight whisper. His mouth morphs into a cocky smile, which just makes you flush even more.

“No, thank you y/n” he says, shaking the Kit-kat for emphasis in his hand. “They’re the best chocolate to ever exist.”

“Finally we agree on something,” You laugh, finally turning you back on the freezer and begin to walk backward, away from the hero. When he notices you moving from him, with every step away from that you make, he takes one forward, following you through the store.

“No, we agreed on the ice-cream too,” he beams.

“That’s right because really, you were just being an ass and hiding that fact from me.” You sass back, spinning around so you can see where you’re going.

“In order to keep talking to you, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.” He says, hurrying forward until you are walking side by side down a different aisle, moving slowly towards the checkout. Your footsteps are both slow and leisurely as if neither of you wants to reach the check out just yet. “But it worked, didn’t it? So I’d say it was worth your glare.” You turn that ‘glare’ back on him and raise an eyebrow at his antics. 

“You could have said something else you know.”

“Such as?” He asks, genuinely curious. You weren’t an intimidating person, so you weren’t sure as to why a guy such as Hawks would be wary of approaching you. Especially when the reality is that those roles are definitely reversed. Was your resting bitch face that bad?

“You could have said, ‘Hey, I think you’re cute. Can I have your number?” Rolling his eyes at your words, disbelievingly. 

“You’re telling me that line would work on someone like you?” Unsure if that was a compliment or not, you stop in the middle of the aisle causing him to stop next to you. You look into his eyes, trying to judge where his mind is but he’s hard to read. The only thing you knew, was that his smile seemed genuine and very amused by you. That was good enough for you.

“Try me.” You test, confidence coming up from who knows where. With raised eyebrows and calling your bluff, Hawks smirks at you. 

“Hey y/n, I know we just met but I think you’re really cute. Can I have your number?” He teases.

“Sure.” Keigo blinks at you for a moment, then two - as if he can’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. First, it comes out slowly, then all at once, the corners of his mouth pull up into a dazzling smile, and a deep laugh rumbles from his chest. It’s the smile though, and the happiness that seeps from him that has your head feeling dizzy. A small smile cracks across your face as you begin to rattle off your number. Keigo scrambles for his phone and quickly types it in, not missing a beat for a second. One he slips it back into his back pocket, you move your basket to your other arm and walk away from the hero. Only looking over your shoulder when you’re a few feet away. 

“It was nice to meet you Hawks.” Keigo runs a hand through his blonde hair, a delighted chuckle slipping past his lips that has you grinning. He had so underestimated you.  

“You’re going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?”

“Oh, you bet bird boy.” You say, turning away from him and walking to the checkout. Today might not be that bad after all, you think as the older lady scans your items and bags them. It’s only then that you realize again that the whole time you had been talking to Keigo, your crappy day had been forgotten and you had actually laughed. The entire thing, he did because he noticed you frazzled and looking down. Your respect for the hero grew, and it took everything in you to not turn around to where you knew he was now standing a few people behind you in the line. Instead, you left the store, the smile not moving from your face. You don’t even make it a few feet from the glass automatic doors of the supermarket before your phone pings, vibrating in your jacket pocket.  Reaching inside you look at the new text, immediately knowing who it’s from. 

From Unknown: Want to go get dinner with me sometime this week? - the KitKat fiend. 

You giggle at the way he ends it, and quickly tap out a response. 

As long as it’s not seafood I’m there. You reply, before you turn around, looking through the glass windows and finding his golden hair quickly. In the midst of a conversation with the store clerk, he suddenly reaches for his pocket and grabs his phone with furrowed brows. Suddenly, a beautiful, bright smile that even has the shop lady hesitating with her scanning just to witness it, stretches across his face. Keigo quickly fiddles with his phone before putting it away and turning his attention to the blushing woman behind the counter. Looks like he has that effect on everyone.  Your phone vibrates in your hand.

To bird-boy: It's a date. 

Who would have thought a small chance encounter with the number two hero where you bicker over ice cream would change your life in such a monumental way.

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[ddarker-dreams]

dropping by to tell u that ur my favoritest yan fic writer out there and your yan genshin updates give me life MUAH

thank you so much nonnie!!!! 😘😘😘 i appreciate you!!! i’ve absolutely loved writing for genshin, so i’m glad that the community is thriving with so much content aaaa ❤️ warms my heart...

anon 2 asked: I’m not sure if this has been asked before or not, but have you read/watched Togashi’s other work Yu Yu Hakusho? If you haven’t, I think you’d definitely like Kurama.

i have heard of it but i haven’t watched it before! i looked up the design for kurama and wow... he is a very pretty boy. he has these mysterious vibes that makes me think i would like him. if i ever get around to watching it i’ll keep an eye out for this boy 👀

anon 3 asked: If you don't mind me asking, what other games do you play besides genshin?

my cycle of playing games is kind of messed up by genshin right now since that’s the main game i play whenever i get hit with Gamer Urge. however, the games ive enjoyed the most recently other than that would be divinity original sin 2, darkest dungeon, pokémon, animal crossing, and fire emblem!

anon 4 said: it's nice to see a fellow hu tao simp! i was so excited to see you make a yandere hu tao x reader,, i rarely see any x reader content of her so i just silently suffer most of the time 💔 ty for feeding us hu tao simps good food op i will be reading that story religiously everyday 🛐

we need more hu tao in this world, i fully agree. every time i see her i just can’t help but smoke... i think it’s the super cute hair. long pigtails 🥺 ANYWAYS you have god tier taste anon. i trust anyone that loves hu tao.

anon 5 said: i am going to kiss u on the forehead as gently as i can,,, that hu tao fic was absolutely delicious❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

THANK YOU NONNIE!!! i was worried at first over how much macabre hu tao typical dialogue to incorporate into a fanfic, but i ended up content with the balance. she can be soft when she wants to, after all. i’m happy that you enjoyed it!

anon 6 said: You posted the harem HCs right after I finished work and it was such a treat to read. I love them. I know you obviously didn't write them for me in mind but thank you for brightening up my day!

PHEW what good timing!! i end up working on my writing on and off throughout the day and finishing it around the time people (in american) time zones would be getting home. i’m glad that you were able to enjoy the headcanons after a day of work!!

anon 7 said: I loved the Liyue reverse harem, how can you be such a good write???Xiao being a puppy is actually cute and I love this concept

i was looking forward to including vigilant xiao watching over his crush the most 😭 it’s just an adorable sight to picture. he’s such an intimidating figure, it can’t help but melt your heart that he’s there to ensure you’re always safe. the main trick is writing the most self indulgent stuff, anon. that is what produces the best you have to offer because you’re having such a good time writing it.

anon 8 said: akfhdsh Lock why was that Zhongli fic so hot🔥?? Ahh I haven't been able to get it out of my head ALL day & 5000 words? You are superb 😍 I can't help but feel so sorry for poor darling. Having to do that with him on the very first night, man didn't even give her a break/a chance to settle down. Either way I'd love for you to throw some concepts here & there if you can 👉👈 or share your afterthoughts ^_^  the universe in this one felt especially great! I wish you the best of luck, take care <3

it’s all because of the random zhongli dream anon 😭 i couldn’t get him out of my mind until i wrote a loooong fic for him. the idea of his darling being with him since the archon war days is my favorite! i’ve always had a soft spot for it, ever since i was trying to figure out what a yandere zhongli might look like back in november. it’s just... genuinely horrifying to imagine being stuck with that for thousands of years. especially when people view rex lapis so highly in liyue, darling feels even more alone on her festering feelings. there’s no relief to be had.

i think i’ll do a big ol headcanon post because the world for yan zhongli and his god darling is so big, i’ve given it a Lot of thought. but the main gist of it is how darling deals with the inaccurate portrayal of their history together. and of course, she interacts with others, since zhongli has the reassurance from the contract that she won’t try to escape. so there’s a lot of angst there. 😭

anon 9 asked: Hey! any plans for more Hu tao content in the future? your last story was just really gooood, she's such an interesting character! I've also been hooked to Rosaria and I'm wondering if you plan to write for her aswell... hopefully no one asked this already lol

i’d love to write more for hu tao!! she is a character that i adore a lot. currently, i don’t have any ideas for her that would get me going, but once i see one or get hit with inspiration she’ll make a reappearance. i do have a few hu tao requests so hopefully those will help inspire me. AND ROSARIA... 🥺 WHAT A WOMAN. i want to learn more about her!! i’ll write for her when her stories and voice lines are all out, that way the characterization is more accurate. she captured my heart with that distant attitude and those listless eyes 🥰🥰

anon 10 said: hi hi!! i just wanted to say i discovered genshin impact bcs of you! i saw your yandere genshin posts back in november, i didn't know anything abt genshin or their world but i read it and just googled their names to know their appearances lmfao and until then i just fell into a rabbit hole of genshin. i eventually grew tired of not knowing anything abt genshin and its lore so i craved around early january and downloaded the game despite me not rlly being a gamer™ and now i'm here at ar 51, a hu tao main and no, i haven't touched grass since downloading the game 😭

ah yes, welcome anon, to what could be considered heaven or help depending. if you were able to get hu tao then i’d say you’re in the latter camp (aside from having to grind for her ascension materials, that is pure suffering). it’s a fun game to get into during this quarantine/spotty lockdown time, so i hope you’ll enjoy your time with it! i’m glad that mihoyo releases content often enough to keep us well fed.

anon 11 asked: Lock dearest, have you ever watched Jujutsu Kaisen?

i like that super cute girl with short finger hair!! i’m planning on watching the show when it’s completed, which i think is soon? ill binge watch it. i’ve recognized a lot of my favorite voice actors from the clips i’ve seen posted, so i’m excited to give it a shot.

anon 12 asked: You watch Demon Slayer? It's really great 🤯

i’ve seen clips of the amazing animation before! it’s currently on my list of shows to watch. 👀👀

[lilacerull0]

LITTLE WOMEN FANFICTION

CHAPTER 2, PART 1: INVISIBLE STRING

Horizons and Sunsets

 

"Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs"

- invisible string, Taylor Swift

Concord, Massachusetts, 1868

 

Rays of sunshine playing on her skin. Soft grass under her fingers. Little specks of dirt scattered across her face. Leaves tangled up in her hair. It's not a common happening to be able to see yourself in such a way. A way that makes it seem like you are not you, but somebody else wearing somebody else's clothes, guarding somebody else's heart, owning somebody else's thoughts. Like you are only an observer, a background noise in your own life. These descriptions are usually used in unpleasant connotations, usually as metaphors, usually as another way of saying you feel transparent, forgotten and small. But in Jo's case, the phenomenon is not even a tiny bit metaphorical. Maybe it's the impact of the books. Maybe it's her imagination. Maybe it's just her. Whatever it is, Jo has always been able to see her life as a theatre piece, herself an audience member, her past self, no matter how far back she might travel to reach a certain memory, a performer.  And Jo craves those moments of remembrance. She craves the feeling of transparency. She craves to exist less.

 

Everything she remembers, she remembers in flashes. Her memories do not understand concepts such as "chronology" or "order". Her brain resembles an unsolved puzzle. Every piece of information she has makes sense. But when to be put together with another aspect of her being, it does not fit. Nothing about her ever seems to fit. And now, she doesn't fit within herself.

 

No, Jo March is not a puzzle. Puzzle, no matter how difficult and complex, can be put together.

 

She's a living breathing contradiction.

What else to describe the utter ridiculousness of her mind? She is not happy and she is not sad. One second she is completely content with her life, the other, she is not. She wants to receive love, love and love, but she is afraid to offer it.

 

When Josephine March loves someone, she does not tell them. She does show, but never tells. She never uses the famous simple phrase. Never not once.

 

Her best friend burns for the people he loves. Jo burns for them in secret.

 

And here, as she is seeing herself splattered in sunlight, Jo March is preoccupied with three actions of extraordinary importance.

 

One is chasing ghosts.

Other is rearranging thoughts,

Final is accepting sunsets.

 

***

 

Paris, France, 1868

Theodore (yes, he is "Theodore" now) is not exactly sure where he is or how did he get there. His vision is blurry and his body feels heavier than usual. What is fascinating about his situation is the fact that consuming certain "substances", (and substances being of alcoholic nature), were supposed to prevail him from feeling like this. From feeling the way he's been feeling his entire life. Like everything around him was frozen and he was the only one moving. He was just too fast, too warm, too different. Enormous in emotion, reckless in thought. All of this often led to conclusions too horrific to comprehend, so he tried to avoid thinking.

The thought of having too many emotions might be terrifying. But the thought of having too much love for everything and everyone but himself was rather paralyzing. It was ridiculous to expect anybody to feel with as much passion as he did. It was ridiculous to demand such a thing from people. Why would anyone put all of their energy into someone else when there were so many things to be done in the world? But those other things rarely sparked an interest in him. Adventures, boarding schools, trips and experiences seemed irrelevant and hollow unless they were intended to be shared. It's funny how he always craved the one thing he never had. And when he finally got a glance of the love he so desperately wanted, he lost it because of his stupid absurd annoying emotions.

When Theodore Laurence loves someone he does not tell them. He screams it until his lungs are on fire.

 

His best friend loves with her whole entire heart. He loves with his whole entire being.

 

And now, vision blurry and body heavy, Theodore Laurence finds himself preoccupied with three actions of extraordinary importance.

 

One is chasing ghosts.

Other is rearranging thoughts,

Final is accepting sunsets.

 

***

Concord, Massachusetts, 1862

 

Step one: chasing ghosts

Sand beneath her bare feet. Water. Silent whispers of the sea. Birds. Colors. Nothing. Everything. Oh, to be crafted in such a way to believe you shall always be sixteen and silly and reckless and real. That is how Jo feels right now. Real. Right here, observing, enjoying, doing nothing but existing. And the sea! So mystical and wide, appearing endless in its presence, it looks like something in possession of a dream rather than this time and place. And the best part of this? Her family. They all resemble a painting in their natural messiness. Amy with her hair half wet, positioned in a way she believes to be ladylike, smiling at the horizon, sketchbook in hand. Meg, holding her hat so that it doesn't leave her in its desperate wish to follow the wind, shoes untied, eyes glistening from laughter she experienced seconds before. Beth, oh sweet Beth, kneeling by the water, touching the shining surface, mouth moving as though she is singing to the sea itself. Teddy is by her side, like he always is, sitting with his eyes closed, head held high up to the sky. He would probably refer to his current position as a way to "suck out all the marrow out of life", which always sounded a bit inappropriate coming from his mouth, but Jo loved the symbolism of the phrase, so she decided to put her friend's foolishness to the side.

 

"Isn't it simply ethereal, dearest Teddy?"

 

"Yes, I did indeed think my face had a particular glow to it this morning, your kind remark is very well appreciated, Miss March" came a teasing response shortly followed by a light smack to the arm (because Jo, being an experienced bookworm, always had a book weapon down her sleeve).

 

"Oh Teddy, you're such a boy sometimes. I find it quite disappointing really." said Jo being perfectly aware of the effect the comment might cause. Teddy shot her a look of a supposedly hurt individual, put a hand over his heart and exhaled loudly, as though he was a character in a Shakespearean tragedy. Jo rolled her eyes at the glamorous gesture, but pretty quickly, her features were changed with a thoughtful expression. She turned her head to Teddy timelines after, only to be greeted with a no longer playful, but a reassuring smile. He knew her too well.

 

"You know, it doesn't make it any less beautiful. The fact that it's all going to end one day, I mean. Quite the opposite actually."

 

She does not answer that. She gets up from the ground and extends her hand to him.

 

"If it's going to end, we might as well suck all of the existing marrow out of it."

 

"Oh, what a wonderful choice of words, dearest Jo!" he exclaims theatrically while gladly accepting her hand

 

"Oh, what a wonderful life, dearest Teddy."

 

And with that, they run to the sea, their lungs almost too full, smiles almost too big. Spirits almost too free.

 

 

Childhood is a thing of dreams.

 

 

Concord, Massachusetts, 1863

 

Step two: rearranging thoughts

 

Trousers under skirts. It's scandalous. Scandalous and inappropriate. At least that's what society will label it as. And society loves labels. But Laurie finds a solace of sorts in his friend's choice of clothes. He isn't sure how to explain it (he is not as good with words as Jo is), but it's comforting to see someone be so unapologetically themselves, whoever that person might be. He tells her this one day because he's Laurie and he isn't familiar with the concept of "silencing your emotions".

 

"Teddy, don't flatter, I told you I do not enjoy nor support such doings. You might as well go practice your gentlemanly manners on Amy, I'm sure she will accept your words of so called admiration with much more enthusiasm than yours truly." says Jo, her voice a tiny bit too loud, her thoughts meeting the outside world in grave speed. Laurie often finds himself wondering how one speaks with so much passion and rush, it's like Jo's sentences are running instead of flowing. She shares her mind without looking at him, her hands busy with rearranging the dining table previously covered with Amy's unfinished drawings and Beth's beloved dolls.

 

"I meant what I said, Jo. But since you believe I'm incapable of offering sincerity, I shall escort myself out."

 

He gets up from the place he was sitting at and rushes out of the March house, leaving his waistcoat behind him. Jo knows better than to follow him right away. She will bring him the forgotten object later, once he's ready to start unravelling burdens.

 

 

***

 

Night.

 

Light.

 

 

These two nouns aren't supposed to get along very well, yet here we are. Jo finds herself awake in the middle of the night, which circumstance she is no stranger to, but this time it is not her restless mind that steals her from the arms of dreamland. It's light. Jo gets up, careful not to make a noise, and looks out the window to further investigate the strange occurring. And the sight her eyes are met with is a sight so undoubtedly Teddy-like that she isn't sure if she will be able to forgive herself for not coming up with such a conclusion sooner. The house of her neighbour, who happens to be her dearest friend, is shining with what she presumes is light of about two dozen candles. The scene would've been inspiring, if not captivating, especially for a person of her making, but Jo knows Teddy and this cannot mean anything pleasant. Therefore, she decides to pay her fellow pirate a visit, armed with a forgotten piece of clothing as a faithful enough excuse.

 

Proud of herself for avoiding all the obstacles successfully (and the obstacles being sleeping family members who have yet to be introduced to the pleasures such as "sleepless nights" or "windows"), Jo runs to the construction once known as a house, now as a gothic castle and knocks. Her efforts are answered with a voice of not a person, but a peculiarly human like ghost.

 

"Who is it?"

 

"Do you really think I will dare share information of an importance so big, oh so grand, without seeing your face, kind sir?" says not Jo, but a righteous, noble knight, his devotion as admirable as amusing.

 

Laurie opens the door only to be met with a grinning Jo.

 

"I believe you have forgotten this, my friend."

exclaims an unlike lady, kneels down and offers him his waistcoat in a way so grandiose, some might think she actually was a knight in shining armor, sharing sunlight, providing hope.

 

"Don't be a goose Jo" came a gentlemanly response followed by an annoyed sound and indifferent expression. Laurie turns around, but leaves the door wide open. Jo, understanding the message quite well, follows him inside to a candle lit room. Laurie approaches the piano and sits down as though he is about to start playing the instrument, but he doesn't confirm the logical assumption. Instead, he closes his eyes and remains like that for what feels like eternity, looking like a human statue. It would've been comical if it were anybody else, but Jo was familiar with Teddy's passion for extravagance. His behaviour does not spark laughter, but concern.

 

"Teddy, I think you should start explaining whatever it is you need to explain. Keeping it in won't do anybody any good despite you believing it will. I promise, you won't be a burden."

 

Laurie shifts in his position and exhales loudly, his eyes still closed. When he starts to speak, his voice is not his. It's distant and decorated with occasional trembles which he is desperately trying to avoid.

"When I told you today how I find solace in the way you carry yourself and how you wear trousers and don't care about what people think of you, I wasn't trying to mess around or anything. Sometimes... Sometimes I feel like I am not me... Like I'm not a good match for myself and I..." he opens his eyes at that, not sure if he wants to receive a response to any of the things he has just said.

 

"I am deeply sorry Jo, this doesn't make any sense, you can go, I don't know what came of me."

 

"Oh Teddy, but it does make sense! It makes so, so much sense." Jo doesn't say that like she wants to comfort him. She really seems to mean it. Their gazes meet at the exact same time, their eyes glossy (which observation they will both dismiss in immense respect to one another), their faces now beautified with soft smiles.

 

"You do realize you are wearing a night gown right?"

 

"I am not the one randomly lighting up candles, impersonating ghosts now, am I?"

"It's called dramatic effect, Jo! Dramatic effect! And keep the waistcoat, I never really liked it anyways."

***

After that day, Jo and Laurie's closets were left grieving for lost members of their separate societies. Blouses, neckties and waistcoats were introduced to the idea of travel and adventure. And even though the closets were left in grief, their owners were more than satisfied with the not so sudden change.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Sinners in a Pod (Chapter 1)

Updates for this will start posting after Witcher of the Night is finished. So, chapter 1 for this will only be posted right now and shall continue its updates soon. Currently, this is on hiatus. But, please do tell me what you think if you manage to read this! Thank you! 💞

PROLOGUE (Summary)

Characters:  Mob/Professor!Henry Cavill x small!stalker!reader (AU)

Warnings: 18+ Blood. Death. Psychopathic issues. The Mafia. Suggestive content and thinking. Stalker and manipulative reader. The word ‘Daddy’ used in different ways? (I don’t even know why this is a warning?) Y/L/N means Your Last Name. 

Words: 6.3k

A/N: Il babbo means Father and il compagno means comrade. Tell me if I’m wrong, I’m using google translate on this one. Sorry, if I’m making this on a hiatus. I wanna see how this will click for anyone. Also, the Geralt fic comes first because I wanna finish it. Hehehehe.

TAGLIST WILL BE OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! (I hope you would, bb!) IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

9:35 AM.

Mr. Cavill has been well-known in just his first day of becoming the substitute for your previous professor who has died due to an infectious disease that still had no cure. He has been the main topic of every person in the campus. Your professor in History was a complete hot-shot. An additional fact about him being attractive was his unconventional pedagogic style that can get students listening to every word that leaves his mouth, leaving you all wanting to hear more than just his educational discussions.

His presence definitely aroused each and every women's curiosity in your campus; hearing gossips about how they were willing to be the teacher's pet to have a piece of what your professor could offer like he was being treated as a play thing or some sort of food that they wanted to have a taste despite of how indecent it sounded. The hungry felines were willing and taking their chances, seeming to want and do it to also save their grades from their previous quizzes and special tests that they have taken from the deceased professor.

Until, You started to realized that you were even included in one of those students who was thoroughly affected by his presence; lately comprehending that he was being the main image of your filthy fantasies every night.

Especially whenever you notice how he tries to keep eye contact with you whenever he discusses. Your best friend can see how he kept on taking secretive glimpses without anyone noticing. Nonetheless, one person did and he was unlucky to have been caught by your best friend who promised to never lie and keep secrets when it involves you.

Though, there are certain situations that should be kept from her. Specifically the part about what happens every night with the idea of your professor fucking you like he'd never want you to walk for seven days straight.

That kind of fucking where you both can be considered as animals in a rut.

It took one look from your best friend to know that he was staring again. You could imagine his piercing ocean blue eyes that had a speck of brown drowning with it; observing every breath and move you make under those black spectacles of his. Curly hair gelled back looking professional but so tempting to be yanked hard.

You suddenly shook your head at the thought, blinking hard while you tried to keep focus on your paper.

Your best friend was done with her pre-test, but you weren't. She kept on silently but repeatedly snapping her fingers under her desk, giving you a signal that he was doing it again. You tried hard ignoring your best friend who was just clearly beside you; bringing you into a much more dangerous scenario by having your test incomplete or rather receiving a failing grade that would make you repeat this subject again.

Then, you'd remember the professor who could get you writhing under his gaze. He was also one of your fantasies---the one and only who could get you off every night---though, leaving you insatiable and craving for more.

Immodest thinking, but it was worth it every time you came.

"Daddy's lookin' again, hunny! Oh, teach me your ways, please! I would so let him fuck my ass raw, I tell you," She whisper-yelled knowingly. Only silence can be heard from around the four corners of the room, constant pages being flipped one by one, triggering you into panicking more than you should because you were still stuck on page one. You eyed the multiple choice that was written. 'Is it A? B? Or C?'

Your eyes narrowed on your test paper, struggling to think of an answer for the last question of the first page. The pen in your hand stopped on letter B, and in one quick motion. You encircled the whole letter before turning to the next page in a jiffy, never thinking whether your answer was right or wrong.

A small creak from your best friend's chair caught your attention, half on the test and half on your noisy best friend; seeming to be the person who was asking you answers when you haven't even finished the damned test yet.

"Psst! Bitch!"

You've sighed an exasperated one from being constantly distracted by everyone and especially from the penetrating gaze you could feel whenever Mr. Cavill tries to check on how everyone was doing from his desk.

"Ms. Rodriguez, I would rather like it if you try and keep your hands on your desk when you're done with the test,"

All together, the whole class turned their heads towards your best friend who had a panicking, shocked look written on her face. Her eyes seeming to tell she was guilty of trying to distract you while you answer the paper at hand. She evidently gulped, nodding silently and tentatively slipping her palms across her desk like a child getting a scolding. Embarrassment filling her body, the paper beneath her hands appearing to be more interesting rather than the gossip she ought to tell.

Mr. Cavill looked to be insouciant from her tricks, His eyes completely blank, cochineal lips forming a thin line from what he had in mind, "You all have thirty minutes left," the suave and sophisticated twang of his accent got you shifting in your seat. His baritone timbre that kept you up every night; never failing to give your core a throb whenever you get to listen to it personally rather than imagining it had you fidgeting with the sharp ends of your test paper.

He leaned back in his seat, the obvious bulk in his arms protruding once it was crossed. Your professor had always wore that extra tight, white dress shirt despite how it was popping out due to his sinewy biceps. The thatch of his chest hair slipping above the second to the last button of his clothing. You knew he was jacked in the flesh, the filament of his muscles straining out of his clothing which gives you images of what he could be like when he was stark-naked.

You had a bad habit of daydreaming in the wrong time.

Those Lapis Lazuli were brilliant under the morning sunlight that was escaping through the windows. Those eyes that you've been able to memorize landed on you, a sudden jolt in your insides made you feel warm and tingly.

"Please, do finish the test before the time is up, Students."

You were the first to break his gaze, the papers were an important matter and you didn't want to fail. Reason to that is because you didn't want to disappoint him by giving him a result that could make him think that you were never actually have been listening to his lessons and have just been daydreaming about his pretty little mouth on yours every day.

It was illicit of you to even think about having his mouth on yours or all over your body, exploring you till his curiosity would be answered and the same goes to yours. The devil was probably grinning in hell because of how risquè your thoughts have been.

Your soul was probably going to burn in hell.

Yet, on second thought; all seemed to be worth it.

Especially when you've been trying to stalk him for about two weeks already.

You haven't been caught yet; but, the idea of being collared seem to be a prize when you were a sinner.

10:05 AM.

"Time's up, everyone." Mr. Cavill's smooth, reverberant voice made you jump in your seat. You were only on the third page of your test and there were three pages left. The sheer frustration went to your head, emitting a vocal groan and a hard bite on your dried up lips. Every loud beat of your heart made your hand tremble in panic. Your eyes skimmed through every question, randomly circling any letter as long as you get to finish the damn test and not be left alone. Despite how anxious it made you feel, deep inside; you knew you were anticipating such a moment.

"Its time to pass your papers. Get your bags and you can go, I'll be seeing you guys tomorrow," He spoke in a monotone manner, his chair creaking once he stood up tall and lusty, grabbing onto the pile of papers, neatly stocking every test one by one with those hefty, streaking fingers of his as each student passed by in front of him. Some women slyly sparing him a glance, trying to check him out and that outstanding derriere of his as they smirked and quietly giggled on their way out.

Your tall, lanky but quite fit block mate stood along the threshold. His bright hazel eyes, tanned skin and dark red lips drawn with a grin as he held onto nothing but his pen; known to be a nerd but also a philanderer who had innocuous looks that appeared to be like he spends his time nose diving in games and books, "Have a great day, Mr. Cavill!"

"You too, Brent."

You could feel your breath shortening, grappling to answer your test urgently. Your breath hitched when somebody tapped your shoulder, you turned to look at the person you were expecting, but was left disappointed when you saw your best friend eyeing your papers; scrutinizing everything inside her head.

"Oh, you're doomed, Y/N." She inspected your answers and observed how her brows raise in an uncanny way, obtrusively telling that your answers were beyond incorrect. There were still students inside the room, slowly taking their time to leave before undergoing another set of lessons to be learned soon from their other professors.

"---I'll get going now, see you later, Chiquitita!"

She didn't even gave you a chance to ask some answers to your tests. What are friends even for?

Once the door was shut by her and others who left one by one, it was like every blood in your veins stopped cycling. No noise could be heard. You could feel an intense pair of ocean blue eyes began shooting you holes through your body that gave you the shivers.

Now, it was just you, him and nobody else.

You mentally gave yourself a slap for not reviewing for his test. It was quite embarrassing for him to see how you were struggling for a test that was undoubtedly easy for everyone.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Your professor started completely unfazed by your endeavor to get the test done in a minute. You breathed out a breath in utter frustration, closing your eyes and capping your pen closed. The time was up.

A large, warm hand gently clasped your shoulder, and you were sure you felt the imaginary sparks from it that also held a flush of shivers, creating a reaction that made your whole body go rigid.

"---Don't rush, you have all the time." Mr. Cavill surprisingly spoke in his calm, low voice. Warm, comforting heat gathered in a close proximity and before you could even realize what was happening; he was already hovering from behind, checking your answers for you.

His breathtaking face were inches away from you, his perfect side profile seen from your peripheral vision and his spectacles slightly falling on his tall, pointy nose. The dimple on his nose winsome for your taste and for every thirsty felines as well. Eyelashes long that can be considered as pretty, an exact length to beautify his eyes a lot more than it would. There was something mysterious about what lies beneath his bright azure eyes. Something dark was laying deep inside of it but it was a locked up window that nobody could ever get to see and understand.

Something about him was making you more intrigued for what his lifestyle is and the more curious you are, the more you were getting yourself at risk. Deeper. Intrusive. You were going to risk it all.

The deep scar on the top of his right eye brow distracted you from thinking anymore else. It looked like a battle scar that he once got from a fight, and it was quite interesting to see such a perfect face that held a flaw; telling you he was actually human after all and not a prince in your dreams.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I suppose you never listen to any of my lessons, am I correct?"

Oh, the way he says your last name always made you sin. Heat traveled towards your face, and some even had the audacity to travel down south. It was wrong.

You had to stop.

"I-I..I do, Sir." You struggled to keep your mind straight. Your eyes stared straight at the whiteboard in front of you, never giving him a glance.

Those heavy gaze of his fell on you; piercing and utterly inquisitive; giving your heart a chance to leave the curiosity before he would want to pry a lot about you that you couldn't imagine him to know, you could feel the disappointment within his eyes that crushed your hopes in making him proud.

"All of your answers are incorrect. It seemed like you've been guessing your answers the whole time,"

Shame and guilt was all you felt at that exact moment. The ends of Mr. Cavill's lips formed a tight thin line before languidly curving into a small, sinister smile that he never gave to any of his students. Yet, you were an exception.

"Must I say, do I sound uninteresting for you?"

An excruciating ring of your school bell rang loudly enough for you to jerk on your seat. You couldn't deny the intense attraction you were feeling towards your professor. The windows weren't locked anymore, and you knew for a fact that you've seen the treacherous glint in his eyes; giving you the key for you to decide if you wanted to enter. Deep down something diabolical lived inside and it left you curious enough to dig down whatever hidden darkness it could be.

"I..I.." You anxiously trailed off and stared into his eyes, feeling yourself get enticed by the gorgeous hues around his dark pupils. He was bold enough to stare back, his face too close for your liking.

"You think I don't notice it at all, do you? you're interested---curious even and that curiosity of yours will risk you a lot, sweetheart."

The words that came out of his mouth were utmost accurate, you felt your throat become dry from getting caught red-handed and from how he could read you with his eyes. Your professor was totally unbelievable and you didn't know whether or not he was just too conceited enough to say it straight to your face like it wasn't wrong nor indecent.

"I think...y-you got everything wrong, sir." you quickly scrambled out of your seat, books falling from your hands and you crouched down to get it, yet your professor was faster than you. He gathered those fallen books and stood undeniably tall, placing them on your opened palms. His eyes absolutely unreadable. You couldn't see what his emotions are at the moment, and it was terrifying to see that he looked like a sociopath for one second before playfulness have been replaced within his eyes.

He looked down at you, a small smile on show, "You think? No, Darling,---" Mr. Cavill momentarily paused with a smirk that got you swallowing the uncomfortable, heated feeling down your throat.

"---I know what's running inside those pretty head of yours and I assure you, it can be shameless and utterly unchaste as it can get,"

Without any second thought, you had everything around your arms; running out of the room. Never looking back at your professor who lowly chuckled to himself, seeing how he connected the dots with the right pattern. He knew you would end up walking with the same path as him, together and as one because of how you were hunting him down behind his back.

You were only acting. He could feel it.

Your unfinished paper was left on your desk, the ends of your test so wrinkly from the hard tugs while you tried remembering the right answers to those questions on his test. He remembered your face, he remembers every move you make all day and Henry knew you've been his shadow for the last two weeks like a canine he didn't remember that he has adopted.

Mr. Cavill had your papers at hand. He smiled to himself and with no doubt, he ticked every question correct despite of your wrong answers.

You passed his test and darkness was bound to happen soon.

10:20 PM.

The strange encounter you had with your professor didn't stop your undying attraction towards him, to be honest. It lured you into knowing more about him; becoming selfish to the point of being invasive, secretly following him around to find details about him and his life. All you knew was his name and that he was your History teacher.

William Cavill. That was his name. Other than that, there was nothing you ever did know except for where he lived. In a basic, plain rental apartments where everyone had one gate to begin with. You've noted that in your hidden diary made just for men who'd reach the point of being stalked by yourself. The kind of level where you plan on breaking inside his house to find more information because your lack of knowledge about him was frustrating you from the start.

You would try breaking into his apartment soon enough.

His place wasn't extravagant like how you imagined him to be, owning no car as he walks home and sometimes take public vehicles to arrive in your university like a normal human.

He wasn't rich. Though, his features could mistake him as a prince. Deserving more than to live in a ramshackle apartment.

You've lost track of Mr. Cavill and his whereabouts. One minute you were just following him in discreet, and now he was nowhere to be seen after turning at a sketchy street that made your feet stop from following him.

'Am I turning into a nutjob? No. I'm doing this to know him better, know what he likes or dislikes, knowing more about him that a typical woman would do. This is for the better and he probably will like it if he knew, I need to jot down things that will make him like me,'  You thought to yourself, your feet trembling with every step you took; the brisk, cold wind making it difficult for you to keep steady as you walked through the dark, strange street that your professor just walked in minutes ago.

There was finally light after walking through a dark path; feeling like it could've been a new beginning for your life if you were being metaphoric. You've seen a streetlamp beside a locked up door and a dumpster. It was the only light you could see. From your perspective, the end of the street was a dead end.

You were about to turn around, thinking that this might be a trap for being caught because your professor was no where to be seen. Up until, you've squinted your eyes at two men talking farther away from the lamp, hiding amongst the silhouette of the night sky. One voice quite foreign and the other recognizable by your ears.

The pitter-patters of your feet were stealthy, strolling closer and closer towards danger zone.

"Did the Rossi's hired you?" there was a hint of Italian from the stranger's voice, you managed to move and hide beside the huge dumpster, and it was the right hiding place because you could see and hear everything.

Everything including Mr. Cavill's features. Howbeit, without the black spectacles.

Why was he here and why is he interrogating a man? a man that also seemed familiar to you?

"You just don't know when to shut up, will you?" He curtly spat, the usual calmness whenever he talks in front of his students was now gone and replaced with a very ill-mannered tone. A tone you didn't expect to come out from him because he was pretty much a reserved and refined man.

"I am living a good life by being a professor in St. Hallmark Institute. But, you've come to try and ruin everything,"

"I've never ruined anything in the first place. It was you who made your own destiny. You've told secrets to other people that was meant to be buried deep in the ground, Henry. Finally, I found you---we were all looking for you,"

Henry? who was Henry? All you knew was that his name was 'William Cavill' and not the Henry that he was talking about.

Your hands began trembling with your back against the dumpster, eyes popping out of its eye sockets from all the scenarios happening.

The more you wait, the clamorous and intense their voices have become, "You're a Cavill, yes? I've known that unimpeachable but minatory gaze in your eyes. A family where everyone kills for a living, one of his son's best known hit man in Jersey; definitely the best out of the rest and people have been striving to find you---wanting to experience services that would definitely be worth the shot because you've struggled to learn everything---trained to become unstoppable. Although, there is one mistake that runs in the family,---" pause, "Your daddy never misses, yes?" The man dragged on and on, he was walking on a path of burning coal and fire. Hence, you were sure he was soon going to get a beating out of what gossips he was saying.

You closed your eyes, breathing quieter than normal; scared to get caught listening to their conversation. You heard a thud on the wall beside you, and it was because your professor boldly strangled the man around his neck, choking him to the point of taking his life out of it. His rage seen from how the veins on his temples were protruding and aching to burst from his anger.

Your fingers trembled from the sudden violence. Downright feeling frightened for what was going to happen with the pestilent man who wanted to get onto his wick, provoking to turn him into a savage animal who wouldn't deliberate for the kill. This man was bringing back memories that Henry wanted to avoid and forget after months of thriving.

But, it never happens because he was born to assassinate and the memories and guilt continued to haunt him forever.

"U-Until, he missed the part that your mother wasn't the target, but your weak, senile, clumsy il babbo aimed the sniper at her head," The man was trudging with fire, a fire that wouldn't be easy to kill.

You heard a cock of somebody's gun, and a deep hitch of breath from the stranger. He violently thrashed against his hold as he could see the gun tucked between the side of his pants. The barrel of the gun shiny beneath the moon light. The Italian clawed on Henry's large hand that was wrapped around his neck with a vice grip. Your professor didn't felt any remorse, nor guilt. Only amusement after trying to spur him on.

"It's quite a shame that you think of me that way," he smiled, a pure wicked beam that you haven't seen since then, cocking his head to the side as he gave him a frightening glare and a simple raise of his eyebrow, "---I'm definitely not like my father because when I hold a gun?" Mr. Cavill seethed through clenched teeth and a tight jaw, "---missing a target would be one of my greatest mistakes and I haven't had any blunders since then,"

"---I never risk to make any mistakes, Leo. I'm far different from my father. When I annihilate a target, I don't think twice and I know you've heard the gossips,"

Leonardo Bianchi desperately tried to fight off the hand that was slowly killing him. After a few more attempts, he have seen that there was no escape and that he'd click the switch inside Henry's head to become the lethal weapon that he was born to be.

The family has given him the go signal. Leonardo has only been a pawn for the family's success into whatever decision they had for the only Cavill that was left alive. But, he had hunt him down; catching the beast as to where it lived; hunting down its location. But, tonight will be the night he reaches his demise, and the man definitely knows it when he'd been given the order to stay close and find what they needed.

Leonardo was just merely their cat's paw.

He loudly laughed manically, breathing labored as the latter heaved to live for his family that was held hostage by the organization that he was in. If he wasn't alive before they get to track him down then his very own family---the real ones---will lose a father and a person who protects them from treacherous doings that he had been involved.

"I won't be the only one rotting in hell, Henry---" he deadpanned, "---you are too because revenge can be bittersweet and you're living for it,"

Mr. Cavill's smile turned upside down into a phlegmatic grimace, sliding the pistol out of his black trench coat that was tucked in between his pants before closely aiming the gun right in the middle of Leonardo's forehead, sweat began to roll down Leonardo's temples from the fear of being dead in the middle of a dead end street. Henry's eyes held no sympathy and just undying wrath for how his past was haunting him down no matter what he does. No matter what he does, they always crawl back like they have been hiding under his bed since then.

Leonardo Bianchi shut his eyes before death could even take him. He knew then and there he was going to die because whenever one does get to find the hit man that every familia wanted to get a hold to, they die in that exact day; complicating their trackers and showing them the wrong location until Henry decides to leave whatever life he created in his current one.

Though, he doubt that he'll be leaving this place for good today. Maybe, fate was about to take its turn and play the wild card.

"Let's share hell together then, il compagno."

It didn't take two seconds before you've heard the blaring sound of a gun going off; never thinking twice about pulling the trigger. He was dead, just like that; leaving his family in the past of his sins.

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.

Everything was gory. The bullet punctured the wall where Leonardo's head was roughly pushed with his dreams and faith that has been crushed in just a single bullet and because of one malefactor that you didn't expect to see.

Mr. Cavill killed a man with his gun and he wasn't just any man; the Italian man was his co-worker, a fellow professor too who went with the name 'Aaron Anderson' who also hid his Italian accent with a rough southern intonation of his tongue.

He was your new Physical Education professor last week ago and now Mr. Anderson was laying on the cold, hard ground on a dead end street.

Henry slipped the gun in his trench coat for safety; audibly sighing for a sight that he never knew would happen again. However, they took three months before he was found again rather than those weeks that they've taken for him to be hunted down. He didn't need another re-location of his life in another country or place; the latter was pleased to be a professor in your university, living in a secluded and a slightly run down rental apartment which was needed for his bolthole; so he would hardly be found.

Crimson blood pooled along the ground, he crouched before Leonardo; his eyes wide opened to tell that he was fighting to live with a gun on his head. Yet, Henry apathetically stared at his pale, bloody face, showing no ounce of pity for the whole situation. He took his white handkerchief tucked in his coat pockets, expunging the blood that coated on his thick fingers before bluntly throwing it on Leonardo's face. Once his rue was clean and forgotten, he firmly stood on his feet like this has been a daily occurrence for years end.

Curiosity killed the cat and care was too obsessed over the Cheshire cat. Now, she was left to deteriorate for letting her other professor be killed by his own co-worker.

Your hands began trembling and your breath was getting the best of you. Hence, it added more panic when the rough, relaxed sounds of footfall started to echo closer and closer before it ceased before the dumps that was behind you.

A faint click of a button has been heard before hearing his low, satiny timbre of his voice nearby; feeling as if eyes were boring into your head while you have been rooted, crouching beside the dumps.

"Blind alley. East side. You know where I am because I know you track me down, Huntsman. Go check your fucking tracker---yeah, yeah. Another bullshit of a carcass. Shot in the head, mate. Got blood on my hands again---it was the first time for the last three months though,"

He sounded like he was just talking dinner with the caller on his phone. Too stolid for what he has done after the shooting. Thus, you've heard soft tapping of his foot on the ground, nearer than it ever has been.

"---I want the whole fucking alley pasteurized in less than ten minutes, got it?" he brusquely ordered around, giving a moment for the caller to finish whatever he or she was saying before you've heard Henry scoff from above your head; making you audibly hitch your breath, "---Don't act like you aren't following me around and that you live nearby,"

You were caught. The cat was captured from her sheer curiosity. Cats have seven lives based on the sayings. Nevertheless, you only had one left for tonight.

It felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown on your head. The eerie, tranquil silence for waiting whatever it is that his friend wanted to say was killing you alive. You began to breathe fast, hyperventilating in your space as your nails scratched the clothing of your knees, panic was rising through and becoming uncontrollable.

Sure, you were a stalker. But, did you deserve to die in the same place where your P.E professor has been killed? will you accept the fact that you'll be perished by the man who was worth the obsession before you knew he was a convict?

If so, then why was your core still throbbing to be caught like it was giving you thrill and excitement to be lured in?

"---Might have caught a witness this time," Henry bluntly confessed, his tone quite exuberant from the expected emotion you imagined him to be in; sounding like he caught the biggest fish in the sea as he went on to talk.

"---Don't worry. This one's mine. I'll do all the interrogating tonight,"

Then, you've heard the shuffling of his clothes, thinking that he'd tuck his phone inside his pockets before you've felt him crouch beside you; slowly and painstakingly.

Warm set of thick fingers clasped onto your fretful ones, his touch sending sparks and probably knives from how tender yet threatening it felt; like his softness had a trade of contract with the Grim Reaper because he didn't seem to be like a person whose heart was delicate, virtuous and guileless like how you've imagined him to be.

His face can trick you into imagining him to be the opposite of what he actually was. An unfortunate disguise that he had which infatuated you to the core. Literally.

He pried those hands away from fidgeting over your knee, his eyes burning you alive as it felt so heavy on the side of your face.

"You shouldn't have followed me, sweetheart."

His presence was near. Too near for you to handle the bad omen lingering around. Your heart stopped beating from the moment those thick, rough, calloused fingers reach out to lightly clasp around the width of your soft, silky neck. The loose grip more frightening than to receive a rougher one because it was giving you mixed signals that you've hit a nerve and your death was just being postponed for minutes.

You've unconsciously swallowed, "You've seen the murder. I know you were a smart one no matter how you were always misbehaving---but, this time; you behaved like the good girl that your parents have always believed in," Henry whispered in your ear; his fiery, hot breath fanning the side of your face in ways that got your heart pounding in such crazy exhilaration. Shivers began to shake your spine, leaving you scared and thrilled for your life.

His thumb grazed along the edge of your jaw, your primal focus on his hand ghosting over your neck like he was planning to choke you alive. Henry could have it, he could do just that with how you've easily submitted to the murderer of your night.

Those cobalt eyes were cryptic. An enigma that kept you insane and wanting for more because of how secretive he was that got you following him around. But, you obviously couldn't deny the tremor of being caught by the man himself.

Your professor forcefully turned your head to look straight into his face. Thus, there you notice splotches of blood has painted his face; such perfect canvas that has been ruined by the blood of the person's life that he has taken. Henry was almost perfect, too perfect that it leaves you thoroughly intrigued for what flaw he had because you knew, deep down; there was something more.

His nose nuzzled upon yours, the dimples of his nose slightly grazing as he lowly seethed with spite and utter sophistication, "If you were any normal person, you should have left me alone since the last two weeks,"

He knew.

Mr. Cavill knows he was being followed by you and nothing was more frightening than a smirking devil who hid behind a picturesque face that would make you kneel before him like his Acolyte. Though, you were just thinking about it that you haven't even realized you were already glorifying him before you even know it.

His breath met your mouth. Your veins were flowing faster than it ever does before, much more than your orgasms could ever take. You lightly scoffed, sounding a little more shakier than how you imagined it to be, worried about everything you've done for the last two weeks. Your actions thoroughly inconspicuous.

The stalker title taken seriously like you have done it for a long time.

"But, I'm far from sane, Sir."

You knew you were. Saying it out loud was so bold in your part. But, if you were being honest it felt like this whole shaken girl that he was seeing has just been all an act that you wanted to manipulate.

Manipulation was just the icing on the cake because you could do more than that for the man you love. The facade that everyone sees was just merely a veil that came with your fancy dress, drinking wine as you let all the plans go through your head that was written inside your secret diary that was buried under the Sycamore tree that your mother loves to disregard because of how high maintenance it was, close to reaching its death as you noticed the leaves falling every day like bad-omen was coming. Hence, she didn't like how ghastly it appeared to be like; making it a better spot for your secrets to be kept under the pile of shattered dreams and bones.

If your mother wouldn't love the horrible ones, then you were willing to appreciate its natural beauty despite of how hideous it was for everyone.

Once you love someone or something, you never let it go that easily; reaching to the level that you would do everything in your will power to get and have what you want.

Henry's grip tightened in a way that got you grinning like a Cheshire cat, he was playing a game where he was trying to let you run for the hills. Mr. Cavill was mindlessly telling you that your life wasn't useful nor significant to him; though, you knew he didn't have it in him to place the gun on your temples because if he did then you should've been dead right now.

Deep within the waves of his ocean, you've seen something valuable that can be useful for you. Your lips curled wider as you've read his eyes that secretly tells you that he was more than interested for the poker game because of the cards he set beneath his palms; confidently assured that he would win.

He had a three of a kind.

But, you hold out a straight flush.

"---I doubt you're sane for stalking me around like it is a normal thing for a student like you,"

You quietly giggled beneath being dominated within his reach. Your tongue slipped out of your mouth, the wet muscle sticking out to lick the cupid's bow of his lips which made your crime-filled professor growl from the sudden action. He harshly huffed out of his mouth, giving you a menacing flicker of his Cobalt eyes which made you laugh out louder as the pungent, metallic scent of blood wafted through both of your noses.

Tag, he was it.

Now, you had more reasons to pry into his life more than how you were invited. Howbeit, Invitations weren't needed because your strong determination was enough to trespass into his dangerous world.

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED, BB! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag the user. Please do check your settings, dollies!) PLEASE DO REBLOG! 🥰

Taglist for Sinners in a Pod: @amirahiddleston​, @iloveyouyen​, @godohammers​, @uncoolcloudyhead​, @marvelousell​, @boundtomyfate​, @evansislife​, @rahdaleigh​, @justine-en​, @agniavateira​, @maan24​, @fangirl-inthe-us​, @mary-ann84​ @snatchedbylele​

[legendoftheghost]

NSFW Headcanon: Jin Sakai 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) 

Jin believes practicing aftercare will naturally develop closer, more intimate bonds with his partner. After sex, he is particularly vulnerable; they’re naked, they have (hopefully) just had an orgasm, and one of the most intrinsic need for him is that need to ensure that positive state of mind continues. Everyone feels good when he knows his partner cares for him, and what better way to show it than tending to his partner when they both are in a vulnerable post-sex state of mind? Jin is especially susceptible to the post-coital blues, and even when he is seemingly highly independent, somewhat repressed and distanced with expressing emotions, I think this will be the perfect time for him to take a plunge and attempt to cuddle and engage in deeper conversations. 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) 

His entirety? Despite his fears of failure and flaws on his body, Jin Sakai is a man comfortable in his skin. From the crown of his head to the end of his toe, Jin Sakai has a body of a seasoned warrior; as a disciplined samurai, he had learned not only martial arts, but swordsmanship, horse riding, hunting, how to survive in the wilderness with bare essentials, and he literally has zero ounce of excessive fat on his body. 

He’s not the strongest, biggest warrior, a powerhouse who can dominate and overwhelm enemies with brute strength, but he’s compact, sculpted with enough muscle definition, and corded with lean strength that only comes from meticulous care. Younger Jin used to hate the scar that would continue to bleed and bruise due to excessive bullying, but now that he is the Ghost, he thinks it only gives him character. After all, scars build character. And out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars, and Jin Sakai is a prime example of one. 

Jin isn’t very particular when it comes to his partner’s favorite body part, but if his partner has anything that contrasts Jin’s own, he would obsess over that and touch him/her over and over. It could be the sensuous curve of the woman’s narrow waistand widening hips, the budding swell of her breasts and slender neck, or another man’s expansive chest and strong arms and legs embracing and cradling him. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) 

He doesn’t like the mess, and would prefer if he came inside his partner, but the one thing he finds it extremely appealing is coming on his partner’s stomach. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) 

Jin loves talking about sex with partners, friends, whoever. To him, sex in essentiality is a fascinating subject that's different for each individual yet common to people all (in some way), and he finds it endlessly depressing that it's a taboo subject.everybody (for the most part) needs sex and wants to have sex, so Jin believes that people should be able to talk about it openly, and he will sass and awkwardly joke and humor with insinuations of sex in normal conversations. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) 

He snuck into Clan Sakai and Shimura’s personal archive / library and would sneak in some erotic illustrations of the time in curiosity. Despite the general lack of experience and focusing on his strenuous trainings, he would have fulfilled some curiosity of sexual exploration through masturbation and through secretive excursions with Ryuzo. 

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) 

His preferred positions are; The Victory position, Doggy Style, Shoulder Hold, Lifted Missionary, and Lotus

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) 

Appearing too serious is Jin Sakai’s greatest flaw; being too serious which is Jin’s principal trait doesn't seem like such a bad thing, but it could create some issues regarding sexual explorations. 

Social anxiety.

Perfectionism.

Social awkwardness.

Fight or Flight responses to most things (Can't laugh inconveniences off or smoothly escape conflicts because of over seriousness, which is likely to do the opposite, in other words escalate minor conflicts to big ones).

Overthinking and not living in the moment.

Not having fun due to exaggerated thinking about the consequences.

Jin may be a sassmaster and likes to throw in some dry humor in between, but that’s his coping mechanism to lesson and ease his insecurity and stress that stems from even the sexual act itself, but in the act, he’s deadpan serious. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) 

Judging by the full thatch of his beard, I’d like to think that he’s pretty thick and ample down there as well, peppered with hair below his belly button, and a nice, sizable thatch of his pubic hair. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Jin does crave intimacy during sex, and this is something which becomes very important to him. Jin is at his most vulnerable, candor, raw, and open, and if it’s not a casual sex only to fulfill the needs to get off than anything else, Jin still needs and wants to build some sort of friendship or connection beforehand. Their sexual performance is then more about action than it is about emotions and deeper layers of intimacy, and with more deeply-connected intimacy, he would rather focus on both the physical and mental connection, which could make it much difficult to come with him. Regardless, he is tender, and will attempt to initiate; especially stroking his partner’s back, the side of his/her face, raking through his/her hair, etc.  

 J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) 

Jin likes the stop-squeeze technique, which is a form of ejaculatory control. It allows him to near the point of climax and then back off suddenly by holding the tip of the penis until the sensation subsides. He likes to do this multiple times to make his orgasm much more intense. While it could be a tedious or time-consuming practice, he likes that explosiveness and exquisite high he gets from it. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) 

Shibari (kinbaku), aka rope sex: Contrasts are central to Shibari: intricate geometric patterns with the natural curves of the body, rough rope against soft skin and vulnerability side by side with strength. The practice can also lead to a trance-like experience for the tied partner and a rush of adrenalin for the artist, or rigger.

Erotic Asphyxiation (breath play): This type of sexual activity involves intentionally cutting off the air supply for you or your partner with choking, suffocating, and other acts. People who are into breath play say it can heighten sexual arousal and make orgasms more intense.

Dirty Talk: Jin can have a little trouble getting out of his own mind. However, in this case, it’s less about being able to connect to the body than it is a fear of letting go. A little dirty talk goes a long way in making him forget his fears and let loose.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do) 

Taking in consideration of his fugitive life, it would be somewhere relatively hidden and private. Especially in nature; against the tree trunk, near the lake or an ocean when the weather accompanies Jin’s mood, and empty, abandoned houses. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) 

Jin is almost always turned on, and has higher than normal sex drive. He’s one of those who craves intimacy and wants to share himself with someone special, even though it doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t participate in any given opportunities when they are presented. It can feel like a chore and not really something he wants to waste their time or energy on if they cannot converse well to begin with. There must be underlying honesty and genuinity in order for Jin to at least partake in a casual sex. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) 

Cockiness – specifically unwarranted arrogance accompanied by a smug attitude. Lack of a sense of humor – unless they’re the one dishing it out. Flaking – because flakes are some of the most unappealing individuals to build any type of relationship with.  Being goalless and content with life — having zero aspirations for the future. Liars – but not even about significant stuff. Just unnecessary lies, made up stories and exaggerations when a fib is pointless. Vulgar language finding its way into every, single, sentence spoken. Baseless cattiness, malicious comments and disdain toward others. Humiliation and degradation.  BDSM for BDSM’s sake without exploration, caution, and mutual respect. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) 

He’s much more inclined to receive than give. While Jin lacks the scope of experiences, he is skilled with his tongue, very attentive, considerate, and careful to observe his partner’s reaction. Because he is a perfectionist, he will attempt his absolute best to pleasure his partner and send him/her over the edge. He expects the same when he’s on the receiving end. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) 

The act in itself is viewed essentially as a series of steps to his and his partner’s mutual satisfaction. It entirely depends on their shared needs. As a dominant top, Jin is likely to be a very passionate lover, focused on the connection he gains from this experience. He does appreciate and sees how much closer sex can bring him to someone he loves, and would rather be patient waiting for the right person to share this with, because for him to reach this step, it would have taken a lot of trial and error. He definitely likes things to built up towards the climax, exploring different positions to find their needs satisfied. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) 

Jin actually prefers quickie, because it offers a much-needed opportunity to relieve stress, strengthen a relationship, and get off at a time when intimacy, connection, and, well, time, are luxuries (especially with him on the run). Prefers mutual masturbations, than penetrative sex. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) 

Jin is likely to be a very passionate lover, focused on the connection he gains from this experience. He sees how much closer sex can bring him to someone he loves, and would rather be patient waiting for the right person to share this with. If he’s in a long-term relationship, he will be more than willing to experiment and take risks. It all depends on their shared interest, and Jin would be open to try everything at least once. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) 

From his strenuous training as not only as a samurai, but as the Ghost on the run, Jin has extremely high stamina and will be able to go on for more than a few rounds if his partner is up for it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) 

Occasionally will use Geisha balls / beaded necklaces for added pleasure, mostly one another in reciprocated masturbations. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) 

He isn’t very good at teasing, unless it’s with words. He is rather straightforward with his actions, because he doesn’t like to deceive with his affectionate, tender touches. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) 

On the quiet side, and for most of the lovemaking, he will make soft, gentle moans that turn into animalistic grunt when he’s on the verge of orgasm. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) 

Perhaps one of the simplest, yet most potent sexual fantasies Jin has is just having his partner direct the sex script for the night. Whether it's a full-on dominant or simply a partner who knows what he or she wants and how to get it, he finds the thrill of a confident and sexual partner to be very appealing.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) 

He is uncircumcised, his shaft is curved slightly upward, with veins that snake along the underside. His member is longer than average (around 13cm when erect) and has considerable girth (9 centimeters when erect). 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) 

Jin has rather active sex drive. It’s not a particularly powerful sex drive, for he could always resort to, and might prefer his own imaginations. His inner minds are rather rich place, and he doesn’t always feel like outwardly expressing this side of himself.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

All depends on Jin’s condition on that day; judging on the Ghost’s life (on the run, essentially a fugitive ronin), and a slew of traumas and PTSD trailing his back, Jin Sakai suffers from insomnia. While he has high stamina and could go for more than a couple of rounds when he’s in a particularly frisky mood, but one intense round could have him knocked out exhausted. He’s a kind of a guy that sneaks in sleep whenever and however it comes, so he would let himself fade away for an hour or two, before he’s coaxed to awake.