#actually obsessed with this it's canon to me

[kiwriteswords]

Trope Tuesday marriage/relationship of convenience then actually catching feelings 😁

I guess you're just what I needed [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 3k|| AN: Oh my gosh, I am obsessed with how this turned out. I want to make this a series of one-shots! Let me know if anyone is interested in seeing more!!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, marriage of convenience, contracted marriage, canon-typical themes, flirty!reader, bold!reader, non-bau!reader, stressed!hotch

Summary: You're a high-profile political figure's daughter in immediate danger. The only solution is to place you in protective custody of the BAU. Your family's only catch? You have to marry the man who's at the head of it all: Aaron Hotchner.

Aaron Hotchner adjusted his tie as he approached Erin Strauss's office, a feeling of dread settling over him. It had been one of those weeks where everything seemed to pile on, and the last thing he needed was Strauss's particular brand of supervision. His mind was cluttered with the details of their latest case, not to mention the challenges of being a single father. Each step towards her office felt heavier than the last.

He knocked and entered without waiting for an invitation, finding not only Strauss but also the BAU Director and several serious-looking government officials seated around the conference table. The air was thick with tension, the kind that precedes a storm.

"Agent Hotchner, thank you for coming on such short notice," Strauss began, her tone more subdued than usual. "Please, have a seat."

Hotch's brow furrowed as he took in the array of faces. "What's this about?" he asked, his voice firm yet laced with fatigue.

The director spoke up, "A situation has developed that requires the BAU's unique expertise." He paused, glancing at a dossier before continuing, "A high-profile political figure’s daughter has been threatened by a radical group. The threats are credible and escalating. She needs to be put into protective custody immediately."

Hotch nodded, processing the information. "Understood. We can coordinate with the Protection Detail and provide a psychological profile on the threats. What specifics do we have on the group responsible?"

It was Strauss who replied, her expression unusually grave. "There's more, Aaron." She hesitated, her discomfort palpable. "The situation...it has an unusual stipulation."

Hotch's patience was waning. "What stipulation?"

The room felt colder, the tension thicker. "The terms of the protective custody dictate that she must be married to an agent from her protective detail. It’s a condition set by her family to ensure her security, given the cultural context and her status," Strauss disclosed, her eyes not quite meeting his.

"And you’re telling me that--" Hotch's voice trailed off, already piecing together the unsaid words.

"Yes," the director interjected. "The family has requested, specifically, that you be the agent to marry her. They trust your reputation and record. It’s non-negotiable if we want their cooperation."

Hotch sat back, his mind racing, yet outwardly composed. "You want me to marry someone as a part of her protective detail?" he clarified, his tone incredulous yet calm. The lawyer gears began turning in his head. He’d been divorced once to a woman, who, despite the love he had and would always have for her, caused him a bit of a legal headache and a pile of bills. The idea of marrying someone--marrying for the sake of protecting her? It seemed pretty absurd to him. 

Strauss nodded, "I know it sounds unprecedented, but given the political sensitivity and the potential international implications, we've been cornered into agreeing. You are, of course, our best negotiator and profiler. This isn’t about marriage in the traditional sense, but a strategic move to safeguard her life."

The weight of the room's gaze felt heavy on Hotch. He understood duty, the sacrifices it entailed, but this was beyond anything he'd anticipated. His thoughts flickered to Jack, to the remnants of a life he tried to keep normal.

"Give me 24 hours to think about it," Hotch finally said, standing up. The meeting concluded with nods of agreement, though the unspoken pressures lingered like a thick fog.

Aaron Hotchner had barely risen from his chair when the Director’s firm voice stopped him. “Agent Hotchner, I need to be clear--this isn’t a request. It’s an order, and we don’t have the luxury of 24 hours.”

Hotch paused, the chair’s back providing a brief physical support against the shock. “An order,” he echoed, his tone a blend of disbelief and resignation.

“Yes,” Strauss added, her voice softer, yet firm. “We understand the personal magnitude of this, but you are uniquely qualified for this role, Aaron. The political figure’s family has specifically asked for you by name, trusting your capabilities and integrity. This isn’t just about protection--it’s about ensuring an international alliance. They believe their daughter will only agree to the terms of protective custody if it involves someone of your stature and reliability.”

The government officials nodded in agreement, their faces etched with the severity of the situation. “Agent Hotchner, we wouldn’t impose this on you if there were any other way,” one of them added.

Hotch stood motionless, his mind racing through every protocol and moral guideline he had followed in his career. Marrying someone under these circumstances was unprecedented, yet the alternative might leave a young woman's life in peril.

“How long is this arrangement expected to last?” Hotch asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

“Until the threat is neutralized,” the BAU Director responded. “It could be weeks, possibly months. You will live together, and she will be integrated into your life as necessary to maintain the facade.”

“And my son?” Hotch’s voice finally betrayed a hint of personal concern.

“We’ll provide support,” Strauss assured quickly. “Jack’s well-being will be a priority, and we’ll make sure this impacts him as little as possible.”

The room was silent for a moment as Hotch processed the enormity of the commitment being forced upon him. Finally, he nodded slowly. “I’ll do it,” he said, the weight of his words heavy in the air. “I’ll need complete access to all information regarding the threats and constant updates. I’m doing this under protest, for the record. This is against my better judgment, but I won’t let her be harmed because we didn’t act.”

“Thank you, Aaron,” Strauss said, a hint of relief in her voice. “We’ll support you every step of the way.”

As he left the office, Aaron Hotchner felt the familiar surge of duty that always guided him. Yet, this time, it was mingled with an acute sense of stepping into the unknown, not just as a protector but as a man compelled into an extraordinary role that blurred the lines between his personal ethics and professional obligations. The challenge was immense, but so was the responsibility. With a deep breath, he prepared to meet the young woman who would soon be his wife in name, bound together in a pretense woven from necessity and strategy.

Hotch’s stride was more clipped than usual as he re-entered the bullpen of the BAU. The tension radiating from him was palpable, setting the team on edge as they watched their normally composed Unit Chief move with uncharacteristic urgency.

The team members were dispersed around the room, some by the coffee machine, others at their desks sifting through paperwork. However, the atmosphere shifted noticeably as they caught sight of Hotch’s stern expression.

“Conference room, now,” Hotch barked, louder and with more edge than intended. His voice cut through the usual hum of activity, leaving a trail of surprised and concerned looks among the team members.

They all knew the tone, and the look – something big was underway. As they gathered their materials, they exchanged glances, piecing together their questions and concerns.

Once in the conference room, Hotch stood at the head of the table, his hands pressed flat against the surface, his eyes scanning the room to ensure he had everyone's attention. The team settled quickly, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.

“I’ve just come from a meeting with Strauss and some very high-level officials. We’re being tasked with a highly sensitive and unusual case,” Hotch began, his voice steady but his underlying tension unmistakable.

He paused, considering his next words carefully. “A political figure’s daughter has been threatened by a radical group. The threats are serious and imminent. She’s been targeted, and we need to protect her.”

Murmurs of concern and nods of understanding passed around the room. It was the kind of scenario they were trained for, yet there was more.

“There’s a complication,” Hotch continued, his jaw tightening. “For reasons of her family’s cultural and political significance, she must be married to someone on her protective detail. They believe this will provide an additional layer of security and compliance.”

He let that sink in, watching the team digest the information. But the biggest shock was yet to come.

“And...” he hesitated, the next part harder to disclose, “they’ve designated that I will be the one to marry her.”

The room went still, the team staring in disbelief. Garcia’s mouth fell open, Rossi raised an eyebrow, and Prentiss frowned, her mind racing through the implications.

“This isn’t a request; it’s an order,” Hotch added quickly, anticipating their questions. “I need your support on this. We need to integrate her into our operations without disrupting our ongoing cases. She arrives tomorrow, and we need to be ready.”

Reid’s brow furrowed in thought. “How long is this arrangement expected to last?” he asked, the scientist in him seeking parameters.

“Until the threat is neutralized. It could be weeks, could be months. We don’t know yet,” Hotch replied, his tone final.

Morgan leaned back, his arms crossed. “Man, Hotch, this is... this is a lot. But we’ve got your back. We’ll make it work.”

Garcia finally spoke up, her voice a mixture of concern and determination. “Do we know anything about her, sir? Anything at all that could help us make this as smooth as possible?”

Hotch nodded, appreciating the team's quick rally to the cause. “I’m receiving her files now. We’ll go through everything together. We need to cover all angles--background, known associates, and potential threats. Every detail matters.”

As the team began to discuss logistics and roles, Hotch felt a slight easing of the weight on his shoulders. This was his team, his family in arms, and if anyone could pull off this unprecedented situation, it was them. Together, they would navigate the choppy waters of what was undoubtedly one of the most bizarre assignments of their careers.

In the days following the unusual directive, Hotch found himself delving deep into the complexities of his new assignment. Files and reports about the political figure's daughter filled his office--details about your life, your social circles, and the nature of the threats against you. The gravity of the situation was clear, and the added pressure of an arranged marriage only compounded the stress.

Explaining the situation to Jack was challenging. Hotch took care to frame the conversation in a way that his son could understand, emphasizing the importance of helping someone in need. "We're going to have a guest staying with us for a little while," he explained gently. "She's in a bit of trouble and needs friends to keep her safe." Jack, ever the understanding child, nodded and asked if you liked video games.

If only we could always be this simple. 

Meanwhile, the BAU team rallied around their leader, holding extensive debriefings to strategize the best way to integrate you into their operations without compromising their effectiveness on other cases. Garcia dug into digital backgrounds, Reid analyzed behavioral patterns, Morgan reviewed security protocols, and Prentiss coordinated with local law enforcement agencies. The team also made a point of checking in on Hotch frequently, offering both professional support and personal encouragement, understanding the emotional toll the situation might be taking on him.

Erin Strauss surprisingly became a pillar of support during this time. Her usual stern demeanor gave way to a more compassionate and cooperative approach. She facilitated necessary clearances and liaised with the government officials involved, smoothing over some of the bureaucratic hurdles that initially seemed insurmountable. 

Hotch knew this was out of Strauss’s hands. He knew that. He was rational enough not to blame her; there was nobody to blame here. 

However, the involvement of extra hands from various government bodies proved to be a double-edged sword. While it meant additional resources were at their disposal, it also led to bottlenecks. Decisions that should have been straightforward were bogged down by red tape and the conflicting agendas of different agencies. The BAU found themselves navigating not only the logistics of protective custody but also the complexities of inter-agency cooperation.

The decision was made for the BAU to continue taking cases as usual, with Hotch working remotely when necessary. This arrangement was meant to maintain normalcy and effectiveness in their ongoing investigations while also ensuring the safety and integration of his soon-to-arrive 'wife'. It was a balancing act that required meticulous planning and flexibility from the entire team.

As the day approached for you to arrive, the atmosphere at the BAU was one of cautious anticipation. Hotch, in particular, was a study in stoicism, his face giving away little of the internal conflict he felt about the impending marriage of convenience. Yet, he was determined to fulfill his duty, trusting his team to back him up every step of the way.

Penelope Garcia, ever the heart of the BAU team, approached Hotch’s office with her usual mix of exuberance and empathy. She had a file in hand, which was not unusual, but the gleam in her eye suggested she had more than just paperwork for Hotch. She knocked lightly on the open door, catching Hotch’s attention as he was buried in a pile of case files and paperwork.

He didn’t help but notice Penelope’s eyes drift to the marriage certificate sitting at the top of the files on his desk. The ink barely dry. 

“Hey, Hotch, got a minute?” Penelope asked, her voice carrying a hint of excitement.

Hotch looked up, managing a small nod. “What is it, Garcia?”

Penelope entered her colorful attire a stark contrast to the somber tones of Hotch’s office. She walked up to his desk with a slight bounce in her step. “I know you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders right now, and I’m not here to add to that. Actually, I hope this might lighten things up, even if just a smidge.”

She handed him a file, which was open to reveal a photograph. “I couldn’t help myself; I had to look her up. And, Hotch, she is beautiful.” Penelope pointed at the picture with a flourish.

Hotch took the photograph, his expression softening slightly as he looked at the image of the you, who would soon be playing a significant role in his life. In the photograph, you had a poised, elegant demeanor, your eyes reflecting intelligence and perhaps a hint of the burden you, too, must be feeling about their forthcoming arrangement.

He had thought so much about how much this would change his life. He couldn’t imagine a young woman like you, what you might be feeling. 

Penelope leaned over the desk, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “At least when you’re pretending to be madly in love, it won’t be hard on the eyes, huh?”

Hotch couldn’t help but let out a small, rare chuckle. “Garcia, you always know how to make light of a situation.”

“I do my best,” Penelope replied with a grin. “But seriously, Hotch, we’ve got your back, and we’re going to make sure you two are as safe as houses. Plus, I’ll be just a call away if you need to vent or if you need a quick exit strategy from any awkward ‘married couple’ moments.”

“Thank you, Garcia,” Hotch said, his tone sincere. “That means a lot.”

Penelope nodded, her expression turning more serious. “We’re here for you, Hotch. All of us. This...situation is far from ideal, but if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”

With a reassuring pat on Hotch’s shoulder, Penelope left the office, leaving Hotch with the photograph still in his hands. He studied it for a moment longer, a myriad of thoughts crossing his mind about the surreal situation he was about to enter. Despite the oddity of it all, knowing he had the support of his team made it all seem just a little more manageable.

You arrived at the BAU under the weight of both expectation and apprehension. Despite the stress, your posture remained confident; your chin held high as you navigated the final steps toward a strange new chapter of your life. The officials accompanying you fussed over your every step, attempting to smooth your path, but you quickly tired of their coddling.

"Really, I can walk by myself," you snapped lightly, irritation lining your tone as you gently shrugged off an overly attentive hand from one of the aides. Your voice carried across the room, catching the attention of the BAU team assembled to meet you.

They watched with a mixture of curiosity and admiration as you handled the situation with a blend of authority and annoyance. When Erin Strauss stepped forward to formally make introductions, the tension in the air was palpable, but your presence brought a dynamic shift.

"And this is Agent Hotchner, your...husband," Strauss said, her voice tinged with a professionalism that didn’t quite mask her discomfort with the situation.

Hotch stepped forward, his usual stoic facade in place, but internally, he's taken aback by your beauty and the sharp wit he had just witnessed. He extended his hand for a handshake, the standard formal greeting he offerred everyone.

You smiled, a spark of mischief in your eyes, and instead of taking his hand, you stepped into a warm, embracing hug. "If he's going to be my husband, we better get used to this," you declared, your voice loud enough for the nearby team members to hear. Your words were bold, but your tone was light, trying to infuse warmth into the moment's awkwardness.

Hotch stiffened slightly, unaccustomed to such open displays of affection, especially under the watchful eyes of his team and superiors. Yet, he managed a small pat on your back, an awkward yet sincere gesture. "I suppose we should," he responded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, appreciating your effort to lighten the mood.

The team observed this interaction with a mix of surprise and amusement. Garcia could barely contain a delighted giggle while Morgan raised an eyebrow to approve of your forthright manner. Reid studied you with interest, perhaps already trying to psychoanalyze your dynamics, and Prentiss offered a supportive nod, sensing the strength you'll need to navigate the coming days.

Strauss cleared her throat, concluding the conversation. "Well, I'll leave you to get acquainted. Agent Hotchner, perhaps you can give her a tour of the facility."

As you and Hotch walked away, your side slightly brushing against his, the team exchanged looks and whispers, their expressions a blend of shock and amusement. Hotch, for his part, was silently preparing himself for the challenging yet intriguing partnership that lay ahead. Your boldness and affectionate nature promised to make this arrangement anything but dull.

Through the labyrinthine halls of Quantico, away from the curious and watchful eyes of the team, the reality of your new life together began to sink in. Glancing sideways at him, you decide to cut through the impending awkwardness. "Let's skip the small talk until we're playing house, shall we?" you suggested, your tone light while edged with a hint of resolve.

Hotch smirked--a subtle, almost imperceptible upturn of his lips--acknowledging the practicality of your suggestion. "I suppose that makes sense," he agreed, appreciating your straightforwardness.

Emboldened by his reaction, you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. "And for the record, I'm glad the rumors about your looks weren't exaggerated. You're quite the topic at political galas, you know," you added, a playful twinkle in your eye.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback by your forwardness yet intrigued by your ability to disarm him. He quickly decided to steer the conversation towards more practical matters, perhaps to maintain some semblance of control over the rapidly evolving situation. "Well, if there’s anything specific you need to make your stay at my apartment more comfortable--especially since you’ll be living with Jack and me--please don’t hesitate to let me know."

You nodded, your demeanor reflecting both confidence and comfort with direct communication. "Oh, don’t worry, I’m not shy about voicing my needs. You’ll learn soon enough," you responded with a hint of humor and a certain look in your eyes, indicating that while you understood the gravity of the situation, you weren’t about to lose your own identity in it.

Hotch allowed himself a moment to study you--a partner not just in a protective detail but now in a life he never anticipated. Your assurance and clarity provide him with a strange sense of relief. It was clear you were not one to mince words, and in the peculiar, winding journey ahead, that was perhaps exactly what he needed.

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Pick-up Lines (or Attempts) by SGE Prequel Characters

I wasn't planning on doing anything related to Valentine's Day, but came up with this. Feel free to disagree with me if anything seems off. Some of these are hyperbole-infested, haha.

⸻

Hook:

Flirting: [He takes up the person's hand and says seductively,] What you think about [some egocentric yet relevant topic of conversation], lad/lass?

Flirted with: He flirts back—whether he has any sincere feelings for the person or not.

Midas:

Flirting: Is flirting beneath him? Likely. He doesn't like soppy Evers who mistake him for one himself.

Flirted with: Doesn't bother responding or dismisses the person. Or worse, he suspects high-handed manipulation at play and says something like "Find someone else."

Rufius:

Flirting: [He doesn't have the guts to flirt? May bring the object of his affections pastries.]

Flirted with: Completely oblivious. Mistakenly recognizes flirtation as an attempt to befriend or as just others simply being "friendly" to him for once.

Kyma:

Responds kindly in either scenario. Might let many, many suitors down.

Marialena:

Flirting: I foresaw a future for you and I together.

Flirted with: Laughs in the person's face. How pathetic, she could think. Or she blatantly lies and tells them they will die of smallpox or malaria because she is contagious and ought to be on her deathbed, if only to get rid of them. If not, she could string the person along for a while, to do her bidding.

Peter Pan:

Flirting: [N/A]

Flirted with: Yuck. Bluck. Bleh. I'm not getting disgusting girl cooties!

Rise Rhian:

Flirting: [He initiates a handshake, and holds onto it for too long.] Hello... [Unfortunately, his mind goes blank and he blushes. In some cases, he may find something clever to say, especially about the physical appearance of his crush.]

Flirted with: [Tongue-tied, attempts to act coy in front of the admirer, probably blushes profusely. Can't look anyone in the eye.]

Fall Rhian:

Flirting: [Wouldn't bother if a guy isn't his prophesied True Love... probably. Do old habits die hard like his brother had? Only one way to find out. Expose himself to handsome guys (students?) and get over the feelings.]

Flirted with: May respond by thinking some form of: Hostile human lifeform. What's the trick this time? He can no longer trust after everything that had gone on.

Rafal:

Flirting: [*Crickets* Then, a voice sounds from behind his "victim:"] Ahem... greetings. I am your stalker. Do you love me? Please. I command you to love me. I promise you, you won't find anyone better. I'll make it for certain.

Flirted with: [Stares at the person like they're stupid for even trying and says something scathing in return.]

[I think he has the potential to be off the rails awkward or deeply questionable, in terms of having a sound mind, if he's not acting seductively as part of a greater ploy and actually has real feelings for someone getting in his way. Hence, the slight deviation from canon.

His first response was also inspired by "Stalker's Tango" and "An Unhealthy Obsession."]

[ficsinhistory]

Do you have any headcanons for SCU!Amy?

You give me WAY to many power, anon. Let's go!

Amy comes from Little Planet. That's it, you can't convince me otherwise.

Because she was born on Little Planet, Amy can use her chaos energy for temporal manipulation. See the future and past, travel through time, etc.

Her people are a more pacifist, technological, diplomatic and peacemaking society. They believe in the power of the collective and that love transcends time. Hence part of her personality. They also believe that the flow of time has to be free from interference…something she doesn't agree with so much.

Amy actually knows Sonic, but neither of them remembers it because Little Planet only appears once a year for a month and she shows up the last time before he ran away. Amy landed on the island one day and ended up bumping into Sonic. They spent the month playing before she had to return for good and promising to come see him the following year. Amy never found Sonic again.

I believe Amy is a very powerful chaos energy user, especially since she is also a hedgehog. All of them, like Shadow and Sonic, have enormous and innate powers and I believe she does too. This even puts a target on her back.

She wasn't much older than Sonic when Little Planet was taken over. The whole thing was extremely traumatic for Amy who saw everything she knew and love die and the feeling of helplessness she felt motivated her to never be so helpless and incapable again.

She was captured by the creator of the Metal Sonics (probably Ivo) because of her powers when she was younger and had a quill stolen from her before could escape. This is how robots travel through time and why they have pink energy. They also can track her because of this. She blames herself for being the reason these threats are running wild and tries to make up for it.

Like Sonic, Amy was sent to Earth by a guardian who loved her, but she was instructed on a mission to protect (possibly protect the Time Stones and even Sonic) at any cost, even her own life. Contrasting Longclaw's instructions to Sonic which was to protect himself. Yes, it's so mess up to her as it's sounds.

She is on Earth at the same time as Sonic. However, she never left the New York area and being so good at hiding, never knew about him nor he about her.

Her hammer came from a factory of Little Planet, which canonically has an advanced industrial hub. She get it during the invasion to protect herself.

Amy has been fighting Metals for years and they always come back more refined and better. The only reason she hasn't been defeated is that her powers give her an advantage with vision of the future and Amy is naturally a strategic and inventive mind.

It's unnerving for her to destroy the Metal Army because they look similar to Sonic. Her mind can't remember him, but subconsciously, she knows she's seen that face somewhere. She's thrilled when she finally meets the real Sonic.

Just like Sonic's, Amy's powers are linked to emotions and since the trauma of the fall of Little Planet, her temporal abilities don't work very well. More specifically, her ability to see possible futures and remember her own past, is very scary for her. It's only when she meets Sonic again and they commit to dealing with the past together that it return to normal.

Amy's emotions in general are a mess. She is traumatized and lonely, while also being loving and optimistic. Because of her mission, she is afraid of putting even more people she cares about in danger, which leads to self-isolation. And just like Sonic, she tries to distract herself by wandering around New York and observing friends, couples, and families.

She's obsessed with musicals. She's also crazy about magical girls and has stacks of manga in her home. Amy also loves writing.

She lives in the post-credits park, in her own cave. In addition to manga, she has fairy lights, musical posters, various pink things, fashion magazines and exterotypically feminine things. Cloths? She loves it. Pop white girl music? You can bet. Rom-com? Please, she's a New Yorker.

The moon reminds her of Little Planet because it is also a satellite. Imagine her shock of seeing it split it.

She has survivor's guilt and thinks the Metals are her fault, so Amy has very little self-preservation. This leaves everyone, especially Sonic, a nervous wreck.

Amy believes in unconditional love, and is a lover of all living things. Following the philosophy that all life is valid and precious. Love is the only thing that transcend time.

When Amy meets the Wachowskis, she is delighted and excited. She has finally found people she can be around without fear, who she gets along with and who are part of her mission. Yes, she loves Maddie and Maddie loves her.

This girl collects friends and allies as Pokemons. Tom and Maddie? Folded for this cute, pink girl. Tails and Knuckles? Automatically siblings. Even Shadow can't handle this girl's absolute resolve for friendship. He knows resist is useless.

She and Sonic have a mutual crush, but they're really bad at it. Between the traumas and the similarities, it's just… amazing and scary to have someone understand you like that. Love is being seen, and Amy doesn't know how to feel about being so seen and vulnerable like that. All Amy knows is that she loves this boy very much and would hate to be responsible for taking him away from his family. That said, she can't hide it. Is so obvious.

Although she is in love with Sonic, her favorite Wachowski brother is Tails. They're tech siblings and strategic pals.

Knuckles and Amy get along very well. She has heard of his reputation as a warrior and he knows the stories of the mysterious Little Planet. They are both happy to finally have a sparring partner.

Amy's fighting style is very aggressive and destructive. She feels a lot of anger towards the Metals and this is quite a fuel. It reminds a bit of Shadow's practicality and brutality.

She is so empathetic and kind to the point of being disarming. Amy can get the truth out of anyone like that. One look into those green eyes and you are doomed. She will win you over with the power of unconditional love and non-judgmental listening.

Empathy plus temporal powers allow Amy to know everything about someone. It's scary and she knows it and likes it.

She is very good at hiding and uses this to her advantage when she visits New York. Although sometimes she likes to mess with people she finds rude by revealing herself a little and saying "no one will believe you" before smiling and walking away.

Amy has a temper and is very angry. And she is in New York. Pretty much the best place for her to hide.

She can love everyone but herself.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

why is it okay for killer to be unhealthily obsessed with color but it suddenly crosses a line when it's dust or someone else

Because it is acknowledged as unhealthy when it becomes unhealthy, is because killer is a traumatized character who hasn’t had healthy relationships in years and tends to think of them in terms of a hierarchy, and because the whole point of killer’s ending with color is that he doesn’t stay that way forever and is having help and support and therapy.

Not to mention I am all about staying close to canon and I firmly believe Killer would not even care enough about Dust to become ‘obsessed’ or fixated. Color is the only person who has not only made Killer feel something in years consistently, but makes him feel real and treats him as if he’s real.

Of course the traumatized disordered man who already struggles to tell what is and isn’t real latches on to that and is a bit terrorital. Color is literally the only person or thing that has made him feel an inch of happiness in years—the only one who has made him feel like an actual person, the one keeping him grounded and will not just let him slip away into his detachment—outside of his cats—which, if you’d recall, are not safe from Nightmare. Color at least has the abilities to fight back and fight back good. Killer is attracted to his strength, after all, amongst many things. (Something Dust does not have, btw, ergo not safe to bother trying to attach to.)

My main issue was never that Killer was obsessed. My issue was that its sexualized almost all the time, it happens for hardly any explainable reasons that make sense and it happens with characters he wouldn’t feel that way towards—and im never given a reason as to why im supposed to believe that this character—known for his apathy and neutrality towards most people and detachment and genuine lack of ability to form many emotional attachments—is behaving that way. And so I am only left to assume it’s because the person depicting it is a Dust or Nightmare simp and want me to believe that Killer would feel the same way about these characters that they do.

[charmwasjess]

AHEM. Dooku for 2/3 and 18, 25? Or dealer's choice? Anything you like 👀👀👀👀👀

OH HEY FRIEND :D Thank you so much!!! I answered the first two here <3 <3 but I kind of went wide with 25 so I pulled in some dealer's choice. :D Couldn't resist.

18 How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

It was so tempting to write you a Sifo-Dyas essay here. Please accept this coupon for one unhinged Sifo-Dyas manifesto, to be redeemed at a time of your choosing. <3

But today, I’m thinking about Mace and Dooku. God, there’s a part in that Shatterpoint novel where Mace obsesses over the fact that he could have killed Dooku on Geonosis - he could have gone for Dooku’s head instead of Jango’s, and how much death and suffering would he have saved? And the fact that he didn’t, he went after Jango, not because he didn’t realize the importance of that decision, but for the plain fact that he didn’t want to kill Dooku.

I think two things are so interesting here - of course, I love the way that Mace vouches so hard for Dooku in AotC, and I love all that implies about the personal relationship and respect as colleagues between them. All that it hints about Dooku's post-exit relationship with the Jedi Order.

I also think it’s interesting that the questions doesn't seem to be if Mace could kill Dooku. 

Here’s the part where I just pornographically imagine the duel between Mace’s Vaapad and Dooku’s Makashi and make uncomfortable noises. Arguably the two most aggressive forms, I think that fight would be insane. Mace is 6’2/1.88m, while Dooku has a few inches on him, Mace is younger and very powerfully built, so Dooku isn’t going to get his usual default “I can just reach further than you” advantages. Also, the way Mace dominates the terrain - I’m thinking of his duel in Sidious’s office - is going to be a big problem for our Count, who thrives on space in a fight and carefully balancing Makashi’s more delicate aspects with his ability to control the environment via the Force - ie, drop pieces of the architecture on his opponents heads. Cool fucking fight, cooler what-if. 

What does the Separatist movement he just started look like if Dooku is captive or martyred?

 25? What was your first impression of [Dooku]? How about now?

Well, my VERY first impression of this character was quite negative. Like many fans, I was enraged to find that we were getting this character and not Sith lady concept art (who would turn out to be future Asajj). Old man Sith?! Who used to be a Jedi? NO WE HAVE OLD MAN SITH WHO USED TO BE A JEDI AT HOME. 

But when I first became a Dooku maniac, I spent a lot of time working backwards trying to find the actual good person the monster used to be. What was the dramatic tipping point, how much was Qui-Gon’s death a factor, how could Dooku’s fall have been stopped or redeemed? 

Now the more fascinating part to me is how an actually good person becomes a monster. To me, that’s actually started to be more interesting than my old fascination with finding some big reason. I love the almost ordinary factors in his slide toward darkness - loneliness, depression, helplessness, the unwanted child compulsive urge to impress the wrong people, plain old sunk cost fallacy. He can be a surprisingly uncommitted Sith. He chains himself to Sidious. 

Someone once summed up my one true fix-it fic, “Five Days to Murder Sifo-Dyas,” as “Sifo-Dyas saves Dooku using only the power of his dick,” and while that's funny, they’re right. I really think any very simple change in Dooku’s story could have got him back on track. The fascinating fact is, it didn’t. Dooku's missed connection with his own humanity and goodness.  

Talking further about impressions of the character, although maybe this gets into 6. What's something you have in common with this character? territory, is that I’ve grown up with Dooku. Getting into Dooku when I was a kid and now liking the character as an adult, I realize I relate to him fundamentally differently now vs then.

Dooku and I don’t share a lot of personality traits, and I’m nowhere near his age in the films, but now I’ve been a teacher, I know how that rewires your brain. I know what it’s like to be a whole ass adult, but still meaningfully reckoning with your own ugly origin story. And god, am I fucking worried about the end of the world. His problems feel so much more real to me now.

I think both he and Sifo-Dyas have a core trait of “oh my god, what’s happening, why doesn’t everyone else SEE this, I have to do SOMETHING” driving their characters’ actions. And while I obviously don’t agree with either of their actions, I think that’s never been more relatable to me than now in 2025.

[kimmi-never-dies]

Yandere!Hyun-Ju x fem!reader head canons

(A/N): I know the poll is still up and is likely gonna change when I'm in the process of finishing this up but I had time now and this prompt was in the lead so I just decided this is what I'm writing.

TW: yandere, obsessive behavior, mentions of but never graphic violence, mentions of stalking and implied kidnapping, drugging.

Her behavior:

Again, she’s definitely a hopeless romantic, Hyun-Ju seems like the type to crave intimacy, affection, and all the other cheesy romance things, but never knows how to ask for it.

And adding that, along with the fact that society practically turned its back on her the second she wanted to openly be the woman she was on the inside, kinda turned her into an obsessive, clingy person.

She doesn’t mean to be this way, she’s just scared of being abandoned again.

Hyun-Ju never thought she’d end up becoming so infatuated with someone, but when you entered her life, everything changed.

You were so different from everyone else, you accepted her, you were so understanding and gentle…

She needed you more than life itself…you were a lifeline for her.

I kinda see Hyun-Ju being two sub-types of yandere, delusional and dependent.

She’d definitely disguise most of her delusions as jokes, for example:

“What do you mean you’re going on a date? But you’re my wife! You can’t be unfaithful!”

But her dependency is very clear, but dependency can be easily explained by abandonment issues, so you’d never guess it was really because she was practically addicted to you.

But she really can’t help it! After the games…after all the people she’d lost…she needed to keep you safe, she needed you to stay.

Dealing with rivals:

Definitely a jealous type, literally wants to scream, cry, and physically rip you away from anyone who’s not her.

Hyun-Ju doesn’t wanna share your attention, you should only focus on her!

HYUN-JU WAS A SARGENT IN THE SPECIAL FORCES

She is SCARY.

If she did happen to somehow gain a romantic rival she’d first stalk them online until she’s figured out everything about them.

She’s gotten a lot of people cut off from your life by digging up old tweets…

But if that doesn’t work, she isn’t above getting her hands dirty…

I don’t think Hyun-Ju could actually bring herself to just straight up murder someone, I know she went crazy on those guards but ACTUAL murder I don’t think so.

But she’s definitely not afraid to follow someone home and beat the ever-loving shit out of them as a warning.

Confessing to her darling:

There’s two ways this could go, and it really depends on you: Tonight was *finally* the night, Hyun-Ju was gonna tell (Y/n) how she felt about her! Everything was prepped and ready, she decorated her apartment with fairy lights, lit a couple of (Y/n)’s favorite scented candles, and made dinner. Hyun-Ju was now just getting dressed and awaiting her sweet-girls arrival.

She was dressed up in a beautiful forest-green dress with a gold necklace with an (your first initial) shaped pendent, which she got a while ago, playing it off as “there were no H’s and it made me think of you.” Her makeup was also simple, her signature brown winged liner, some mascara, and a bit of red tinted-gloss

The silence of Hyun-Ju’s apartment was suddenly interrupted by a knocking at the door.

‘She’s here!’ Hyun-Ju thought to herself excitedly as she rushed to open the door.

She could’ve fallen to her knee and proposed right then and there…

(Y/n) was stunning…her dress/suit hugging her body in all the right ways, and her hair was done perfectly, just like always…

-a few hours later-

After a while of eating dinner and watching some stupid comedy movie, Hyun-Ju finally worked up her courage and turned to face (Y/n). Her hands were shaking as she paused the tv, looking into her (e/c) eyes with nothing but love and a small twinge go something…darker…

“Sweet girl…I know we’ve been good friends for such a long time but…over these past few years I’ve wanted something more, I love you, and I wanna be your wife one day…so with that being said, please…will you be my girlfriend…?”

You sat shocked for a few minutes before responding to her, you couldn’t help but notice the desperate yet hopeful look on her face.

“Oh Hyun-Ju…”

Yes

"I'd love to..."

did she hear that right?

yes??

she would grin from ear to ear, pull you close as gently as she could, and kiss you.

this first kiss and every kiss after that would be full of love, passion, and happiness, masking the obsessive and violent feelings that got here to this moment, here with you...

And she was never letting you go...

No

"I'm sorry...I don't feel the same...but I'd love to still be your friend."

friend?

FRIEND??

all of this, following you everywhere, taking all those pictures of you, fighting off rivals left and right, only for you to wanna be FRIENDS!?

Hyun-Ju was NOT accepting this, but luckily she already had a backup plan.

struggling didn't help much when she lunged at you, pinning you to the ground effortlessly as she pulled something out of her dress pocket.

and once you felt that prick in your neck, and the sedative hit, you didn't struggle at all.

don't be scared sweet girl, she won't hurt you.

she'll make sure no one can hurt you...or even find you again...

[neversetyoufree]

Too socially anxious to interact with anyone on my actual account (it’s a problem), but I just wanted to say I love your blog! I’ve been obsessed with VNC for about a year by now, and I get really lonely sometimes cause I feel like while it’s not exactly unpopular, people tend to treat it like a “side fandom” if that makes any sense? Like, they enjoy it but don’t really engage with it past surface level. It’s especially hard as an Astolfo fan, because I think I can count the amount of people who don’t completely mischaracterize him on one hand (but I digress).

Complaining aside, it’s so refreshing to read your posts! They’re always very thoughtful and well written, and I owe a good portion of my understanding of the series to your writing. I’m not sure if you’ve posted anything about this before, but I was curious about your predictions for who will die by the end of the series. I’ve thought a lot about it because people always say Mochijun is pretty brutal, but to be honest, besides Vanitas and maybe Roland I have no idea who’s going to live or die. I’d love to hear your thoughts if you have the time! ^^

Ah, thank you so much!! It's incredibly gratifying to hear that you feel like you've gained some extra understanding of VnC by reading my posts. Don't sell your own analyses short! But this series has so much interesting stuff going on in it, and it brings me endless joy to think I've helped nudge others into appreciating all that.

As far as upcoming deaths go, having read Pandora Hearts and Crimson Shell, I'll second the take that Mochijun is pretty merciless when it comes to killing off characters. I honestly don't think anyone is safe except for Noé, and Noé is only safe since 1. he's the narrator, and 2. outliving the others is much more painful for Mr. Savior Complex than dying would be.

Vanitas is the obvious given death-wise, and I'll second you about Roland, given how things end up for his namesake in The Song of Roland. There's good odds of Olivier also dying for the same reason, since his namesake dies in The Song of Roland. I can also envision a potential plotline where, when Roland or Olivier dies, whichever one outlives the other betrays the church (esp since this was foreshadowed with that bit about Olivier threatening to leave when Roland was hurt pre-canon).

I'm also, unfortunately, not super optimistic for my girls Jeanne and Dominique. Jeanne, like Rolivier, is named after a historical figure who very famously died young. She also carries around a giant coffin wherever she goes, and that coffin contains a weapon named "Carpe Diem." The context of that name makes pretty clear that it's evoking the full version of the phrase—carpe diem quam minimum credula postero—which is a reference to living life to the fullest because you don't know if you'll live to see tomorrow. So, in the same way that Vanitas's already-run-out hourglass earring is a symbolic death flag, Carpe Diem and its case feel like potential death flags for Jeanne.

In terms of Domi, her fate is less sealed than Jeanne's, but something deep inside me is scared for her nonetheless. I think it's partially because she's featured in the "all we gained and lost" section of Noé's closing monologue from mémoire 1. She's on the "gained" panel, but still, it makes me uneasy. She's also suicidal and written as a parallel to Vanitas, which is never a good sign for the likelihood of a character's survival.

Riche is also named after a character who is very famously dead in her source material (Beatrice Portinari from the Divine Comedy). If we run with the same logic applied to Rolivier and Jeanne, that doesn't look good for her. I don't want her to die (I love her v much, and I also don't want her to be even more sidelined compared to Dante and Johann than she's been thus far), but I also feel like it's unlikely that all three dhampirs are making it out of this series unscathed.

In terms of characters I think won't die, Chloé already had her big scene of choosing to live on despite life's hardships, and I fear her imminent death would cheapen that a bit, so I think the odds for her and Jean-Jacques surviving are relatively good.

Other than that, who knows! Besides Vanitas and Noé, these are all just wild estimates. Maybe the whole cast will die except Noé, or maybe everyone but Vanitas will live. You mentioned Astolfo, and I can envision him living or dying by the end, depending on how kind Mochijun decides to be. Absolutely anything could happen.

[inseparabiles]

Thank you. Maybe if nobody looks at Geta for five minutes he can have one (1) smile like he did at the Colosseum that actually reaches his eyes, too.

I am VERY enticed by these tags. I am holding them like a flower. Caracalla in this scene is absolutely the inspiration for half the Renaissance art we know today, by the graces of being so high off his arse he can't even steadily get out of his seat. The way he reaches for Thraex's hand, and then holds it, makes me think of that post about how he holds Macrinus's hand later and just won't let go. Really showing the need to be touched, need to be held, to have gentleness shown to him in these tiny gestures. I don't think he notices, and if anybody else does, they think it's just him being high/him being sick, but that's so profound to him. It's something that comes from much deeper than that.

And yeah right after we're back to... that. Geta's great at generic manspreading while we see Caracalla go from fully splayed to sitting with his legs crossed like the prettiest princess Rome ever had. This is what we call range.

As per the question of the underwear, I think - honestly - it's just because he is wild like this. Someone who sits straight and has their legs mostly aimed at the floor doesn't need to worry about flashing the room with their junk every two seconds (and according to everything I've read by now that was a real issue that Roman men tended to have actually lmfao), but Caracalla is all over the place all of the time and needs the extra layer of decency on him for that. Maybe even for privacy/personal feeling of security. He wouldn't want to need to worry about something like that - make it something to worry about - so it's easier to just dress accordingly from the start.

I'm almost certain Geta is as careful. Not because he actually is in any real danger of flashing the room but because he'd die if he did it anyway. Having to watch Caracalla move the way that he does and no doubt has always done has probably taught him both to sit very still for himself and make sure that if there's ever a situation, he's still leaving something up for imagination.

Okay and regarding my original tags:

#as a writer I owe this scene my life #solely because it canonically establishes that Caracalla wears underwear. #and I uh. needed this information recently

After doing such annoyingly thorough research into whatever the hell Romans were hiding under their skirts, I am absolutely obsessed with the idea of the twins wearing fancy lite versions of subligaculum, made out of thin and soft materials that allow them to actually keep that shit hidden under their ceremonials without unnecessary bulge. I spent like 12 000 words with that thought and it's never leaving me again.

moon, meet sun

[hyakunana]

"My friend, my partner… my Guardian."

[rimatsu]

obsessed with baby queer buck and the hang-ups he probably doesn't even realize he has, let alone acknowledge.. newly realized bisexual evan buckley who didn't stop once to consider long-term commitment to a man he dated for 6 months as a viable option until josh spelled it out for him. and we've seen buck navigate romantic relationships before. he didn't do things by half-measure or shy away from grandiose declarations with abby or taylor. he knew he loved them without the need for an outsider's perspective. i don't think the cautiousness displayed in 806 was linked to tommy as an individual/lover so much as it was about building a life with a man — still a foreign concept, still a bit alien. not something buck could really envision for himself and by himself, unprompted (just like he remained unaware of his attraction to men until he was made to confront it with a kiss). that moment of hesitation wasn't because he was unattached to tommy or their relationship, quite the opposite according to the follow-up questions: if buck wasn't in love already, he was at least willing to be. yeah, he needed a little nudge from josh to reassess his feelings, to jump over that last barrier, but the very moment things clicked in his mind, buck was ready to cement their relationship, ready to wholeheartedly pursue a future with tommy, serious enough that he brought up the possibility of marriage someday (another first! not just first potential husband, but first potential spouse ever!!) — because buck doesn't see much value in waiting once he figures out what he wants.

[betterthanbatman1]

Jason Todd Red Beanie appreciation post

[kissmel0ser]

AC/DC

[yayll]

~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his inability to let you go ~

Your hand trembles as you're about to knock on the massive office doors and you wonder if you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.

You got too close working for this terribly lonely man, and now you're knocking at his door with the only solution you can think of to put an end to your silly infatuations that have gone on for longer than you'd want to admit and can possibly handle. You open the door slowly, and walk into the elegant and massive office space, your eyes falling right onto the dark haired man in all black hunched over the desk, scribbling away as if he didn't hear you come in. You walk quietly, and when you reach the wooden desk, your voice comes out soft and firm.

"Dazai, sir? I wanted to speak to you about something sensitive, if I may."

You chew on the corner of your bottom lip, but quickly compose yourself when you see the face of the man you've spent so much time with, the unfortunate love of your life. if it weren't for his Maroon scarf, he'd look like nothing but a black void. A burnt Black cat. He looks up, narrowed eyes scan you as he takes a sip of his tea, replying in a monotonous tone.

"What is it?"

"After much consideration, I think.. I need to leave the Port Mafia. We've worked together for quite a while now, and I can assure you it's not about the quality or enjoyment of my work. You don't even have to acknowledge this beyond me simply saying it, I just have to confess something that makes my heart ache. You make my heart ache. I know how unprofessional that sounds and that you have no use for such affections, but I can't keep pretending. It's why I think it's time for me to move onto something else otherwise my work will become disrupt-"

A lifted finger is shoved into your face, signaling you to stop, and so you do. Of course you do. You always had a habit of word vomiting when you were anxious. Dazai is staring down at his tea, and he stays quiet for a long time, trying to pick what emotion he can mask his real outraged ones with. Finally, he flashes you an unbothered look, his eyes half lidded as they taunt you. A cruel smirk curls onto his lips.

"Oh? What an awful time for your honesty! I'm currently drowning in work and responsibilities, ones that you're supposed to aid me with, actually. Thus, I have no use for your confession." He simply says.

You can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You expected this. Looking down at your shoes, you chew on your lip again.

"I had to tell you.. Like I said, you can just forget about it."

"Well you see, that's the problem. I can't forget it. The moment you uttered those nasty little words to me, I realized I have to carry the weight of finding a new secretary. And I resent that."

He looks away for a brief second, his words are bitter and laced with what sounds like remorse and irritation.

You cross your arms and sigh, your voice comes out lower than your confidence.

"I just thought that we were... I suppose I should have never dared to assume you'd ever see me as more than a-"

He instantly leans over his desk, now placing a finger on your lip, his voice just above a whisper.

"... And though these feelings you have for me may be inconvenient, it doesn't mean that they're unwelcome."

He lets his finger rest on your lips for just a second too long, meanwhile you're frozen in place feeling like your chest is going to collapse in on itself. His voice becomes softer.

"Sit, please."

You sit down, now facing each other. It's quiet for a few moments as you both study each other's expressions. This form of intimacy was unusual to everyone else but the two of you, having spent countless hours in the past working across one another without uttering a single word, yet communicating in perfect sync. You were a part of each other's routines, a never ending spiral. Dazai feels himself teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something peeling away at his very soul. He's usually so arrogant and domineering, but in this instant, he suddenly feels an exhaustion wash over him trying to keep that going. He's kept it going for so long, he forgot that he doesn't like doing it with you. You don't deserve to be a part of all of this, and he doesn't deserve to want you.

Oh how he loathes his true identity: A simple man. A human man. Your man.

When he can't take it anymore, he slowly creeps his bandaged hand on top of yours, applying light pressure, but his eyes don't dare look into yours. Not yet. Finally, you break the silence, staring down with furrowed brows at the way your hands fit around one another. You mutter under your breath, tired of being vague.

"What are we to each other, Dazai? I mean really?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" He snorts, trying to cling to the last of his cruelty but failing as he lets his emotions sway his judgement.

You sigh, flipping your hand over so that your fingers can fully intertwine.

"I just don't know how I could ever take up any space in your mind. I didn't think you noticed whether I stayed or left."

He looks up, flashing you a mildly offended look, his sharp eyes narrowing. He scoffs quietly, dropping your hand and standing up from his desk. He walks over to you, his full height now looming. He bends down and scolds you.

"What an obscene thing to say. You're invaluable. You have always been occupying my mind, every minute, every second, every microsecond. I always notice. I'd notice even if I was on my deathbed."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally manage to swallow the lump that's building up as you stare up at your reckoning.

"I just- I'd never try to leash you, sir."

His eyes soften, and he tilts his head slightly. You drive him mad with the way you don't realize what a dog he is for you. His voice comes out strained.

"You wouldn't need to. And don't call me that. You know my name, and as your superior l'm ordering you to address me properly."

Your cheeks flush, and you part your lips, letting out the breath you can't stop holding. A faint smile appears on your face, and you stand up slowly to meet him.

"You're like the moon, you know? You control everything like the tides. You control me, Osamu."

He shakes his head, and sighs deeply. If only you could see how wrong you were. He steps closer, moving his hand up your arm gently as he trails his way to your collarbone with ghost-like strokes.

"Did you know that sometimes when I'm laying in bed, all alone after a long day of controlling things, my only thoughts are about you?"

He confesses, sincerely. Dazai brings his face inches from yours, his voice now becoming a pleading whisper. His hand travels down to your waist, gripping it gently.

"Do you find it hard to believe that you bring me to my knees, the big scary Port Mafia boss? Because if so, you're a great fool! I love spending my time with you. I quite literally need you by my side in my times of need and at any random and mundane moment that passes. It brings me unimaginable joy when you nag me to get more sleep, especially when I don't listen because I can't wait to hear you say it over and over again. I don't like it when you have plans, or when you report to anyone else but me. I want you to stay with me tonight and every single night after and I don't care how awful this sounds. I don't care about you having a life outside of me."

Your throat feels tight, eyes wide at the fervor of his words alone. You reply with a shaky breath.

"Every single night after?"

"Every. Single. Night. After..."

"As if we were together?"

"We are together." He declares as if it were obvious this entire time.

Hearing Dazai be so blunt makes your mind fog over quickly, a whiplash of feelings that you never thought would ever see the light of day suddenly surface. He feels the same, realizing how much he's given away to you in such a short amount of time, but for him it's been rotting inside for years. He's been held together by the glue of your support too long not to kneel for you now. It's over for him, he's run out of masks to wear. He slowly guides your body backwards towards the opulent leather couch at the center of the room. You stop when you feel yourself backing up into the cool pebbled hide, and he slowly lowers you down onto your back with his arms supporting you. He delicately hovers over you, looking deeply into your eyes as he takes in the way your bodies feel against each other. For a moment he worries he might actually be trembling.

His breath hitches when you place a hand on the bandaged side of his face that covers his left eye. You stroke the fabric lightly, eyes twinkling with unfiltered adoration. He thinks about the only other person who's ever looked at him with such reverence, and how painful it is not to be able to tell his best friend he's in love. He leans into your touch, humming softly and closing his eyes as he molds his lips deeply into yours. It's not a kiss of sexual desire. This is a kiss born of romance and intimacy, a mutual oath of surrender. cold bandaged hands instinctively wander your body, starting at the waist down to your hips, and slowly exploring the plush of your thighs, kneading them. He runs them higher, lightly tracing your ribs with his index finger while the other hand cups your face. Dazai's mouth moves gently, and slowly pulls away from yours with a soft whine. His fingers trace your jawline as he stares at you. You taste like milk and honey. Like the moon and rain. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling like the night sky. You feel his heartbeat against your body. Every single pore of your skin is connected.

"Please— don't leave the Port Mafia, and don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Not ever. I'd become a tyrant without you."

"Is that also an order?" You murmur in between shallow breaths, dreamy eyes trained on him.

His eyes flicker over to your lips for a moment, then return to your eyes. His voice drops to something that resembles a soft whimper.

"Noo. No, it's not. I could never demand anything from you. But if you'll allow me to act selfishly, I just want to make you happy, to see you smile. I want you to keep greeting me with that tea you make every morning before our meetings. I also never want to hear you call me 'Sir' again. I am not your boss or your friend... I'm so much more than that. We've always been together. We will always be together— Is this too much?"

You shake your head, smiling uncontrollably at the way Dazai rambles in this moment, it's a side of him you've never seen in all the years you've known him. A stark contrast from the detached and cruel presence that frightens others on an almost daily basis. This seems like a person pretending to be the boss of the Port Mafia, an almost perfect imitation. You're not sure what barriers within him had to break for him to become the mushy and needy mess you see before you and what it all means in the long run, but you dismiss it for now. You get the feeling this might be the real Osamu Dazai. And that excites you.

"Never too much. I'm here and I'm staying. I would always stay."

He chuckles, it's a broken shaky laugh bordering on a sob. He buries himself in your neck, smiling against your soft skin, nibbling on it. He lightly runs his tongue against the mark he leaves, and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours

"... I know you would. You always do."

You tilt your head, and hum in mild confusion at his odd little comment.

"Do you know something I don't?"

He flashes you a knowing smile and speaks prophetically as he lightly traces a finger over a large vein on your neck, following it down to your soft chest. He murmurs lazily while bringing his lips down to where he won't be able to get them off for the rest of the night.

"I know everything, silly.~"

The Port Mafia can wait, he's going home first.

[nenoname]

stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff

and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing

like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)

stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context

while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands

ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is

idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok

[petrerpkr]

Marauders stans need to be stopped or at least read the actual books

[novantinuum]

the longer I’m in this fandom the more alien I’ve decided Steven eventually becomes over time as he ages