#even though i was confident i would be fine

[pomefioredove]

hey so can I possibly have a scenario where Azul reveals his octopus form to his s/o and s/o is surprised, but doesn’t mind it. When he keeps being unsure and hides under water, s/o just dives into the water right next to him and kisses him under water? They can’t breathe under water unlike Azul being human.

this is so sweet!! I hope you don't mind, I did a fic instead of headcanons cause it felt right to me

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ "I'd owe you"

summary: in the context of a first kiss type of post: short fic characters: azul additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship

It's not that Azul is nervous.

Of course not. He's long gotten over the "crush" phase of your relationship. No more butterflies or blushes when he sees you, and for the better.

You're... a part of his life now.

He's not a fool, though.

He knows that each phase of the relationship comes with a different test to pass. And he has passed; the butterflies, the blushing and stammering, the confession, the first date, all with flying colors and his usual bravado.

Now, a month in, he knows the next is imminent.

He is NOT nervous!

He wants to... to be prepared, that's all. But he can't put it off forever.

"Is this strange for you?" he asks, neck-deep in the water.

You, beautiful, effervescent in the moonlight, are sitting on the dock, kicking your legs back and forth. It's high tide, and dark. "No,"

Somehow, in his mind, he thought this would be fine.

"Are you certain? We could go back to school, if you'd like," he says, hopeful you'll change your mind.

"I'm sure," Damn it.

"You haven't let me see you yet, anyway."

Damn it, damn it. Was being in the water in his natural form not enough?

Azul curses himself again. He did agree to this, foolish as it was.

Hesitantly, he lifts one, just one tentacle out of the water. He's trying very hard to keep calm, but he feels like he's being crushed.

You don't react. At all. No teasing, sure, but no reassurance, no smiling, not even that look of awe you so often have. He suddenly feels much colder than the water, and, without thinking, goes to hide.

Again.

The last thing he sees are your eyes, widened in surprise, and then he's underwater.

Azul knows he'll have to come out eventually. He can't just leave you alone on the dock. And he has an exam first thing in the morning, anyway.

But for now, he'd like to wallow. And so he will.

Of course, he should have known better than to think he'd get away with that. In seconds, the surface tension of the water breaks, his calm interrupted by you, you, of course you, suddenly with him.

Azul wants to say something, he wants to hide, but before he can even move, your hands are on his cold cheeks. And then, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, you're kissing him.

The world stops.

For the first time in a long time, he doesn't know what to do.

So, he lets you lead. It's... sort of nice. In a way. Then it sort of feels like you're holding your breath, which is a little- oh, right.

He comes back to his senses, grabs your shoulders, and swims you to the surface.

"Look at you," he sighs. "You're shivering. We need to get you back to school before you catch something."

You say nothing. You're smiling.

Azul sighs again. It's like you hadn't heard a word he said. "Too late for that, then. What are you staring at?"

"You're beautiful,"

His hearts stop. He doesn't respond; if he tries, he knows he'll just make a fool of himself.

Of course. After he was so confident he'd left this awkward phase behind, you manage to give him butterflies all over again.

Finally, he clears his throat. "...Thank you,"

"...But don't think that'll excuse you from drying off and getting warm. I won't have you sick on my behalf. I'd owe you."

Your smile warms with something he recognizes, but can't think of now.

"I think you already do,"

[librababe99]

Can I please request Jason Todd being jealous of reader and Dick who are close (in age and as friends)? Their ease and dynamic with each other brings out all of Jason’s insecurities as he has a crush on reader.

Anon, I absolutely LOVE this request and finally was able to finish something I think you might just like! 🥰

Title: In the Shadows of a Grayson

Tags: Jason Todd x Gn!Reader, friends to lovers, angst with happy ending wc: 1.4K

Jason Todd wasn’t the brooding type, at least not anymore. Well, maybe he was—but he didn’t like admitting it. He had come a long way since his days as the vengeful Red Hood, as the outcast Robin. But certain feelings were harder to shake than others, especially when it came to you.

You and Dick had been friends for as long as Jason could remember. You were close in age, shared interests, and had that easy, effortless rapport that made everyone in the Batfamily smile. To Jason, it was like watching the sun and moon, two celestial bodies that were just meant to be in sync. He hated it, if he was being honest with himself. Every time you laughed at one of Dick’s jokes, every time you gave him that affectionate look, Jason’s chest tightened.

Not because he disliked Dick. No, Jason respected his older brother more than he’d ever admit. He’d take a bullet for him without hesitation, but seeing the two of you together—seeing you with Dick—it hurt. It was like a reminder of everything Jason wasn’t. Dick was charming, confident, and always knew the right thing to say. Jason was the opposite: rough around the edges, quiet, with his words always coming out too harsh or too clumsy. He never knew how to talk to you the way Dick could.

And the worst part? You were perfect for Dick. At least that’s how it seemed in Jason’s eyes. The way you two talked about old movies, the way you could spend hours discussing literature or some obscure bit of history that left everyone else in the room confused—Jason could never keep up with any of that. It wasn’t his world, not really.

So, he stood on the sidelines, watching, brooding, nursing a crush that had taken root so deeply it hurt.

"Jason?" Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He had been leaning against the balcony of the Wayne Manor, the Gotham skyline stretching out in front of him. The cold air did little to ease the heat rising in his chest when he turned and saw you walking up to him, your face lit up in that way that made his heart race.

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to act casual. “Hey,” he muttered, not quite meeting your eyes. “What are you doing out here?”

You shrugged, stepping closer to lean on the railing beside him. “Needed some fresh air. Dick’s telling another one of his ‘first day as Robin’ stories, and I think I’ve heard it about a hundred times by now.”

Jason huffed out a laugh, though it was more bitter than he intended. “Yeah, he loves those, doesn’t he?”

“Are you okay?” you asked, a little too gently for Jason’s liking. You had that look on your face, the one that said you knew something was bothering him. You were good at that—at reading people, at reading him.

“I’m fine,” he lied, turning his gaze back to the skyline. “Just… thinking.”

You were quiet for a moment, and Jason felt your eyes on him. It was unnerving in the best and worst ways. He didn’t deserve your attention like this, not when his insides were twisted up with jealousy. You deserved someone like Dick—someone better.

“Jason…” You hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “You’ve been distant lately. I feel like… I don’t know. Like we haven’t talked in weeks.”

Jason clenched his jaw. Of course you noticed. You always did. He hadn’t been able to look you in the eye for days now, especially not when you were around Dick. It was too much, and he was too afraid that his emotions would slip out if he let his guard down even for a second.

“I’ve been busy,” he said, hoping that would be enough.

But you didn’t back down. You never did when it came to him.

“I miss talking to you, Jay,” you said softly, your voice carrying a sincerity that made his chest ache. “It feels like you’re avoiding me.”

Jason’s hands balled into fists inside his pockets. You weren’t supposed to miss him. You weren’t supposed to care this much. You were supposed to be with Dick, where you belonged, not out here worrying about him.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he grumbled, though he knew it was a lie. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“About what?”

His pulse quickened. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t tell you. The words were stuck in his throat, a bitter tangle of frustration, self-doubt, and longing. He couldn’t compete with Dick. He wasn’t what you needed.

“Look,” Jason sighed, straightening up and turning to face you, his eyes finally locking onto yours. “Why aren’t you with Dick right now? He’s your best friend, right? You’ve known him forever. Why aren’t you inside with him?”

You frowned, confusion crossing your face. “Jason, what are you talking about?”

“You and Dick,” Jason forced out, the words bitter on his tongue. “You’ve always had each other’s backs. You’ve got the same interests, the same everything. You’re perfect for each other. So why the hell are you out here with me?”

Your eyes widened, realization dawning on your face, and Jason hated how vulnerable he felt in that moment, how exposed his insecurities were laid out in front of you.

“Jason… no.” You shook your head, taking a step closer to him. “I’m not—Dick and I, we’re just friends. We’ve always been friends. That’s it.”

Jason blinked, his mind racing to keep up with what you were saying. “But you’re always with him. You two are so close…”

“Because we’re friends,” you repeated, your tone gentle but firm. “That’s all. I’ve never had feelings for Dick. Not like that.”

Jason stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to believe you, but the nagging doubts in his mind wouldn’t let go. “Then why… why me?”

A small, soft smile tugged at your lips, and you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Because you’re the one I care about, Jason. I like you. Not Dick. Not anyone else. You.”

Jason’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. You liked him? After all this time, all the late nights he spent torturing himself over you and Dick, you had liked him?

“I’ve been waiting for you to see it,” you continued, your voice quiet but sincere. “But you always keep your distance, like you don’t think you deserve it. But Jason… you do.”

Jason swallowed hard, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to handle the sudden flood of relief and disbelief and hope that surged through him. You cared about him. You liked him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, his voice rough, as if the words were dragged out of him.

You smiled softly, shrugging. “I didn’t want to push you. I thought you’d tell me when you were ready. And… I was kind of hoping you’d notice on your own.”

Jason let out a shaky breath, his mind still trying to catch up to everything that had just happened. He had spent so long convinced that you belonged to someone else, that he had blinded himself to the truth right in front of him.

Tentatively, Jason reached up and cupped your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “I’m an idiot,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

You laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “Maybe a little,” you teased, your eyes shining with affection. “But I like you anyway.”

Jason couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, the weight in his chest finally lifting. He had spent so long hiding his feelings, afraid of rejection, afraid of not being enough. But standing here with you, looking into your eyes, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time: hope.

Without another word, Jason leaned down and kissed you, the lingering doubts and insecurities melting away in the warmth of your touch. You kissed him back with a quiet intensity that made his heart race, and for the first time in a long time, Jason let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—he could be enough.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your breath warm against his skin. “See?” you whispered. “You’re the one I want, Jason. No one else.”

Jason closed his eyes, holding you close, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to breathe.

Maybe he wasn’t perfect, and maybe he wasn’t always the easiest person to love, but as long as you were by his side, he knew he’d be okay.

And that was enough.

[writeriguess]

I think this is where I send requests?

Could you maybe do a Bakugo x fem reader where the reader is a transfer student from the UK? It could be crack or fluff I just think that would be funny.

Could it also specifically be more someone from the north and not like the typical posh London person. I think it would be cool if they just came from a random little town in the north and no one can understand her accent.

Thank you!

You fidget with the hem of your uniform, feeling your nerves spike as you step into the hallway of U.A. High. Your shoes click softly against the polished floor, and your gaze flickers to the nameplate on the door ahead. Class 1-A. This is it. You feel your heart race a little faster. It wasn’t the typical first day nerves that got you—it was the fact that you were a transfer student, plucked from your little northern English town and dropped into this highly prestigious Japanese school for heroes. You barely knew any Japanese, and on top of that, your thick northern accent had already gotten you some confused stares from teachers.

Right, you think to yourself, deep breaths, it'll be fine. Just stay calm, smile, and don’t panic if they can’t understand you.

The door slides open, and a tall man with wild, unkempt hair, half-hidden in a yellow sleeping bag, stands at the front of the room. His eyes are half-closed, and he looks like he’s fighting off sleep. You can’t help but feel a little taken aback. This was your homeroom teacher?

“Ah, the transfer student,” he mutters in a bored tone, barely lifting his head to acknowledge you. "Introduce yourself."

You clear your throat, stepping up to the front of the class, feeling the weight of several pairs of eyes on you. The classroom falls silent, all eyes on you. There’s a mix of curiosity and confusion in the air. You swallow hard.

“Uh, alreet,” you start, flashing a nervous smile, “I'm from t’north of England, came 'ere to transfer 'cos, well, it's U.A., innit? And I reckon I could learn a lot, y'know?” Your voice is confident enough, but you can already tell from the blank stares that they don’t have a clue what you just said.

You shift awkwardly. Of course, you think. The accent.

You try again with that little Japanese you knew, as slowly as you could. "I, uh… I’m from a town in the north of England. Here to train as a hero. Nice to meet you all."

There’s still a pause, but you can see some of the students starting to nod, like they’re piecing together what you meant. Except for one boy. You notice him immediately because of the way he’s glaring at you, arms crossed over his chest. His ash-blonde hair spikes aggressively in every direction, and his sharp crimson eyes are practically burning a hole through you.

“You speakin’ some kinda foreign language or somethin’?!” the boy snaps, scowling deeply. “What the hell did you just say? Speak properly!”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you feel the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck. You take a breath, steadying yourself. Right. This must be the infamous Bakugo, you think, recalling the brief description you were given before the transfer. Fiery, loud, prone to explosions—both literally and figuratively.

“I am speakin’ properly,” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “I speak English, just not posh London English like y'might be used to.”

Bakugo’s eyes narrow further, and he stands up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh? You callin’ me stupid?”

“No, I’m callin’ yer ears broken if y'can’t understand a bit of a northern accent!” you snap back before you can stop yourself.

The class erupts into laughter, some of them trying to hide it behind their hands while others, like a girl with pink skin and horns, outright cackle. Even the teacher, though he looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else, quirks a brow in mild amusement.

Bakugo’s glare intensifies, and you swear you see sparks flicker from his palms. Oh, brilliant, you think, first day, and I’ve already wound up the most temperamental student here.

Before Bakugo can explode—quite literally—a boy with glasses and a serious expression stands up from his desk, waving his arms wildly in a chopping motion. “Everyone, calm down! This is no way to welcome a new student! Let’s maintain order and professionalism!”

“Shut up, Iida, I don’t need you telling me what to do!” Bakugo growls, but he sinks back into his chair nonetheless, arms still crossed and glaring daggers in your direction.

The boy with glasses, Iida apparently, adjusts his frames and turns to you with a formal bow. “I apologize for the disruption. I am Tenya Iida, the class representative. If you need any assistance adjusting to U.A., please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Cheers,” you say with a smile. At least he seemed nice.

You’re shown to your seat, which happens to be near the back of the class. As you sit down, you catch a few of the other students stealing curious glances at you. A girl with short brown hair and a round face leans over from her desk. “Hey! I’m Ochaco! I like your accent—it’s really cool!” she says brightly.

You give her a grateful smile. “Thanks, pet.”

She giggles. “Pet?”

You laugh softly. “It’s just what we say where I’m from. It’s like saying ‘love’ or somethin’ like that.”

Before you can explain further, Bakugo scoffs loudly from the other side of the room. “Tch. ‘Pet.’ How about you speak like a normal person so we don’t have to decode every word?”

You roll your eyes, feeling the familiar frustration bubble up. “How about you learn to keep up, yeah?”

He opens his mouth to retort, but he’s cut off by the sound of the classroom door sliding open again. The tension in the room dissipates as a tall figure walks in. You recognize him immediately—All Might, the legendary Number One Hero, in his debonair yet far-too-cheerful form. The air practically shifts with his presence, and all eyes, even Bakugo’s, turn to him.

"Ah! A new student! Welcome!" he booms, his voice full of energy, completely oblivious to the simmering tension from before. He grins at you, giving you a thumbs-up. “It’s always exciting to see new young heroes join us! I’m sure you’ll do splendidly!”

You nod, not trusting your voice just yet. Your stomach is still doing flips from Bakugo’s outburst.

The day drags on with lessons and training exercises. Most of the class seems welcoming enough, though you catch Bakugo’s glare on you more than a few times. You try to shrug it off. He clearly had some sort of superiority complex, and you weren’t going to let that get to you. Not on your first day.

It’s later in the afternoon when you’re paired with Bakugo for a training exercise. Of course. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for whatever was about to unfold.

The task is simple—defeat your opponent or capture the flag. But with Bakugo, you know it’s going to be anything but simple.

The second the buzzer goes off, he’s on you like a storm. Explosions crackle from his palms as he charges, eyes locked on you with that same fierce glare from earlier. You barely have time to dodge as he barrels toward you, his attack leaving scorch marks on the ground.

“C’mon, newbie! Don’t just stand there!” he yells, clearly irritated that you’ve managed to evade him.

You grit your teeth, your mind racing as you try to think of a strategy. You might not have the same flashy quirk as he does, but you’re quick on your feet. You duck under another explosion, your muscles coiled, waiting for an opening.

“Yer gonna ‘ave to try harder than that, mate!” you shout over the noise, dodging his next blast with a quick roll.

Bakugo grits his teeth, his eyes blazing with fury. “I’ll wipe that smirk off your face!”

The tension between you and Bakugo only seems to grow with every passing second. It’s a clash of stubbornness, of fire against wit. He’s relentless, and you… well, you’re not about to let him win that easily.

Not today.

Bakugo charges at you again, his palms crackling with raw energy. Each explosion is like a thunderclap echoing in the training arena, but you remain calm, dodging just out of reach, your reflexes kicking in. You’ve faced tough situations back home—just because this is Japan and the world’s most prestigious hero school doesn’t mean you’ll crumble under pressure.

“Hold still, you damn extra!” Bakugo snarls, eyes blazing as he unleashes a barrage of blasts, determined to corner you. The intensity of his attacks makes the ground tremble, smoke rising in swirling plumes from the spots he hits.

You duck behind a large piece of rubble, your heart racing, the vibrations of his attacks reverberating through your body. You can feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins, the fight-or-flight instinct pushing you to your limits. But instead of fear, there’s something else—a challenge.

“Yer daft if y’think I’m just gonna sit ‘ere and let you blow me to bits!” you call out, glancing at him from your cover.

His eyes flick to where you’re hiding, a growl escaping his throat. “I’m gonna blow you up, and then we’ll see who’s daft!”

You grin despite yourself. He really is just as bad-tempered as they said.

You catch a brief glimpse of the flag, just a few meters away on a raised platform. If you could just get to it before Bakugo realized… Your mind races, formulating a plan. You’ve noticed that Bakugo is all about speed and power, but if you can outmaneuver him—if you can get into his head—it might just give you the edge.

You dart out from behind the rubble, and he’s on you immediately. You sprint, weaving through debris and obstacles like a fox evading a hound. The explosions light up the arena, and you can feel the heat of them as they just barely miss you. Bakugo’s attacks might be powerful, but they’re wild, almost too focused on brute force.

“You keep runnin’, but you’re not getting away from me!” he yells, his voice hoarse with frustration.

You smirk, adrenaline sharpening your senses. “Oh aye? Y’sure about that?”

He charges at you full speed, completely focused on taking you down. It’s exactly what you wanted. At the last second, you feint to the left, using the momentum to slide under him just as his explosion misses your side by inches. You can feel the heat from the blast lick your skin, but you don’t stop. Your body twists as you pop back to your feet, heading straight for the flag.

Bakugo, furious, spins around. “You little—”

Before he can finish, you leap toward the flag, your fingers just grazing the edge of the cloth.

Bakugo is right on your tail. You can practically feel his breath as he dives for you, his hand reaching out, but you’re faster this time. You grab the flag, twisting your body to dodge his final attack as his palm comes inches from making contact with your side. Instead of blasting you away, he crashes into the ground, narrowly missing you.

You hold the flag up, your chest heaving as you grin victoriously. “Looks like I’m the one still standin’, mate.”

Bakugo lifts his head, his face a mix of shock and rage. He glares at you from where he’s crouched on the ground, dirt smeared across his face. “What the hell…?”

You shrug, smirking as you twirl the flag in your hand. “Told ya. Might be from a small town, but we don’t back down easily.”

For a moment, Bakugo doesn’t move. His eyes burn with frustration, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Then, with a low growl, he pushes himself up, dusting off his uniform, though it’s clear he’s more angry at himself than you.

The buzzer rings, signaling the end of the match. The other students begin filing in from the viewing platform where they had been watching the battle unfold. Some of them are whispering, while others openly grin, impressed with your victory.

“Not bad for a newbie!” Kaminari calls out with a grin, giving you a thumbs-up. “I didn’t think anyone could keep up with Bakugo’s explosions on their first day.”

“Yeah, that was awesome!” Kirishima adds, his sharp teeth showing as he smiles broadly. “You’re one tough cookie!”

“Impressive,” Todoroki says quietly from his spot on the sidelines, his mismatched eyes watching you with a mixture of curiosity and respect.

You can feel a swell of pride in your chest. It’s not easy fitting in, especially when you’re thousands of miles from home, but maybe—just maybe—you’ve started to prove yourself.

Bakugo, however, is less than impressed. He storms past you, shoulders stiff, muttering something under his breath about “dumb extras” and “cheap tricks.”

“Oi, Bakugo!” you call after him, unable to resist poking the bear just a little more. “If y’ever wanna learn ‘ow to outwit someone instead of just blowin’ ‘em up, gimme a shout!”

He stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning to look at you with a dangerous glint in his eye. For a second, you think he might actually explode. But instead, he just glares at you, his voice low and venomous. “Next time, I won’t miss.”

You smirk, unfazed. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, but the atmosphere in the classroom feels a little different. People aren’t just curious about you anymore—they’re impressed. You’ve already shown that you can hold your own, even against someone like Bakugo.

Ochaco leans over again as you’re packing up your things. “You were really amazing out there! How did you manage to dodge him like that?”

You shrug, trying to be modest, but you can’t help the grin that tugs at your lips. “It’s all about payin’ attention. Bakugo’s strong, but he’s predictable. Once y’get a feel for his rhythm, it’s not so ‘ard to dodge.”

She nods, eyes wide. “Wow, you make it sound so easy.”

“Yeah, well, it’s easier when y’don’t get distracted by all the explosions,” you say with a chuckle. “But I reckon Bakugo’s got more up his sleeve than just brute force. I’ll have to be on me toes next time.”

“Next time?” Ochaco giggles. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that.”

As you step out of the classroom and into the cool afternoon air, you feel lighter than you did this morning. Maybe it’s the victory, or maybe it’s just the relief of surviving your first day, but for the first time since you arrived in Japan, you feel like you might actually belong here.

It’s just the beginning, you think to yourself, glancing back at the towering school behind you.

And with a small smile, you step forward, ready for whatever comes next.

It had been a few months since your chaotic first day at U.A., and life had become a strange mix of normal and, well, still chaotic. You’d settled into your role in Class 1-A, made some friends, and even managed to navigate your way through most of the Japanese language barrier. But there was one thing you still hadn’t quite figured out: Bakugo Katsuki.

Your relationship with him was complicated, to say the least. On one hand, he was still loud, brash, and always seemed ready to pick a fight. On the other hand, he’d stopped openly berating you every chance he got, and while you’d never call him friendly, he was… less hostile than before.

You were sitting in the common room one afternoon, chatting with Mina, Ochaco, and Momo during a break. The conversation was light, drifting from gossip to training stories, until Mina brought up something you weren’t prepared for.

“So,” she started, her voice taking on that teasing tone she always used when she was about to stir up trouble. “Have you noticed anything… different about Bakugo lately?”

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. “Different? Like what?”

Mina leaned forward, eyes twinkling mischievously. “I don’t know, maybe how he doesn’t yell at you as much? Or how he actually listens when you talk? He’s definitely warming up to you.”

Ochaco grinned, nodding along. “It’s true! He’s not nearly as aggressive toward you anymore. And I’ve seen him watching you during training.”

You blink again, utterly baffled. “W-watchin’ me? Nah, yer ‘avin’ a laugh.”

Momo, who had been quietly sipping her tea, chimed in with a thoughtful look. “They’re right. Bakugo’s behavior around you has shifted in a noticeable way. He seems… less combative, more focused. It’s almost like he respects you.”

You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief. “Respects me? Yer jokin’. We barely get through trainin’ without ‘im threatenin’ to blow me up.”

“Yeah, but that’s just how he is!” Mina laughed. “For Bakugo, that’s like a love language.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt your face flush with heat. “Whoa, hold up. ‘Love language’? Yer not seriously suggestin’—?”

Ochaco giggled, covering her mouth. “Oh, come on! You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed! He’s been way less explosive with you lately. And it’s not just that. There’s a vibe, you know?”

You shook your head adamantly, crossing your arms over your chest. “No way. No bloody way. Bakugo doesn’t like me. He barely tolerates me. He’s always barkin’ orders or glarin’ at me like I’ve done somethin’ wrong.”

Mina waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, he definitely glares, but maybe he’s just frustrated ‘cause he doesn’t know how to act around you. You know how he is—he’s bad at this kind of stuff.”

You stared at them, dumbfounded. “Y’really think Bakugo’s softenin’ up to me? Like… that way?”

“Absolutely,” Mina said, her grin widening. “Trust me, I’ve got a sixth sense for these things.”

Ochaco giggled again. “Yeah, and we’ve all seen how he interacts with you compared to everyone else. He might not know how to be nice, but he’s definitely different with you.”

You shook your head, still refusing to believe it. “Nah, y’lot must be seein’ things. Me and Bakugo, we’re still… tense. He’s still rough around the edges, and it’s not like we have nice, friendly chats or anythin’. Half the time, I’m dodgin’ his attacks or tryin’ to avoid a full-blown argument.”

Momo set her cup down gently and gave you a calm, knowing smile. “It’s not always about what’s on the surface. Bakugo is difficult to read, but he’s not as closed off as he seems. There’s a reason he hasn’t been as harsh with you lately. He respects you, and that respect could easily grow into something more.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. It all sounded so ridiculous. Bakugo? Liking you? In a romantic way? You didn’t know what was crazier—the idea itself, or the fact that these girls were convinced it was true.

Mina poked your arm, bringing your attention back to her. “You’ve gotta admit, it makes sense, right? You’re one of the few people who can actually stand up to him and not get blown to bits.”

Ochaco nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! He’s probably just not used to someone who can keep up with him like you do.”

You frowned, still unsure. Sure, Bakugo had calmed down a bit around you over the months, but that didn’t mean anything romantic was going on. Right?

“I dunno, girls. He’s still Bakugo. And let’s be real, the guy can barely stand havin’ a civil conversation with me, let alone somethin’ more. Plus, he’s way too focused on becomin’ the Number One Hero to even think about stuff like… relationships.”

Mina gave you a sly smile. “You’d be surprised. The toughest ones are usually the ones who fall the hardest.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, the door to the common room slammed open. Speak of the devil.

Bakugo strode in, hands shoved in his pockets, his usual scowl plastered across his face. His crimson eyes scanned the room briefly before landing on you. He didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes like he was trying to size you up for some unknown reason.

You tensed instinctively, bracing yourself for whatever snide remark he might throw your way. Instead, he just huffed, turned on his heel, and walked out as quickly as he’d come in, his footsteps heavy with irritation.

The second he was out of earshot, Mina burst into laughter. “See?! Did you see that look? Oh, he’s definitely got it bad.”

Your jaw dropped. “That’s what yer callin’ interest? He looked like he wanted to bite me head off!”

Ochaco giggled again, shaking her head. “No, no, that was totally his awkward ‘I don’t know how to talk to you’ look. It’s classic Bakugo.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “Yer all mad. Absolutely mad.”

Momo chuckled softly. “Maybe. But don’t be so quick to dismiss it. You might be surprised by what Bakugo is capable of when it comes to emotions.”

You peeked out from between your fingers, still feeling embarrassed but also a little intrigued despite yourself. Could they really be right? Was Bakugo actually starting to… warm up to you? You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

But as you replayed the interactions between the two of you over the past few months in your mind, you had to admit… something had changed. Whether it was respect or something deeper, you weren’t sure.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Alright, fine. Maybe there’s somethin’ different goin’ on. But don’t go gettin’ any ideas. We’re still more likely to end up yellin’ at each other than havin’ a nice chat.”

Mina grinned. “We’ll see. We’ll see.”

Requests are open. Send as many as you like at once.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello ! Just so Agatha all along and I have a request if it's ok 😊

How Agatha will convince witch!reader who has a crush on her to join her in the witch road 👉👈

Gn reader if possible

Thank you ! 😁

Agatha would probably be aware of your feelings in all honesty, and she couldn’t blame you! She’s amazing!

However she’s probably use this infatuation with her to her advantage when her and ‘teen’ come over to your home, following the trail of magic that drew them there. It was noticeable, stronger the other witches she’s recruited but still there was room for growth and new powers.

‘What tricks are we going to have to use to recruit this witch/wiccan?’ Teen asked Agatha as they stood on your doorstep.

‘No tricks, this one’s got a little thing for me, it’s adorable but it means that most of the work in convincing them has been cut out for us.’ Agatha replied as she went to knock on the door, only for it to open on its own to reveal you on the other side.

‘How did?’ Teen questioned.

‘I could sense you the moment you drove into the driveway, your magic is far more potent than others.’ You answered as you stepped to one side with a welcoming smile. ‘Want to step inside and continue this conversation because I don’t think the neighbours will want to hear about the sales pitch you’re bound to give me into joining your cult.’ You add.

‘It’s not a cult it’s a coven.’ Teen interrupts but you weren’t listening when Agatha moved past you, making sure to brush her hand against the back of yours as she does, and immediately you felt your resolve to stand your ground crumble like a deck of cards. It must’ve been obvious as teen only looked at you knowingly as he past into your house and once they were both inside, you shut the door harder then you should’ve but at this point you wanted this to be over with.

‘Go on then, convince me to join you on your journey to the witches’ road.’ You crossed your arms over your chest.

‘I’m assuming you’re more than aware of the fact that if you were to make it to the end of the road, any wish your heart desires can be granted.’ Agatha started.

‘I do know this factoid, yes.’ You said and Agatha crept closer to you until you were a hair’s width away from one another as she now spoke lowly. ‘Then I’m also lead to assume that you know that extends to crushes, infatuations, all that important stuff also.’

‘Yes but I’d much rather the feeling to be mutual without the usage of magic, as ironic as that sounds.’ You replied as you stared deeply into her beautiful eyes.

‘And it can be,’ Agatha whispered as she grasped your hands with her own, intertwining your fingers, ‘I really need you by my side y/n as my moral support, my confidant and my strength during the most difficult situations that we’ll face.’ Agatha could see that you were buying her sales pitch into getting you on the witches road, but knew she couldn’t stop there and decided to make this visit short and sweet she adds.

‘I wouldn’t want anyone else to join me on the witches’ road other then you my dear, you have the potential to be the most powerful witch/wiccan in our coven. All those other witches can barely hold a candle to your fire. I need you.’ She finishes and teen had to give it to Agatha, she was certainly an actress when she needed to be as he watched you both as though he was watching his favourite drama.

You were at war with yourself. You swore that you wouldn’t resort to magic for even the most simplest things, never less the witches’s road, you knew the stories of how dangerous it was but your infatuation with Agatha tended to lead you into doing something stupid; even agreeing to going on the Witches’ road with nothing but the hope that Agatha might actually see you for once.

However before you could reason with yourself, your mouth moved faster then your brain could intervene with logic and common sense. ‘Fine, I’ll join.’

‘Yes!’ Agatha and teen cried as Agatha brought you into her arms, holding you tight so that you didn’t see the smirk across her face, that wasn’t so hard if anything it was barely even took her five minutes to get you to say yes; she didn’t understand why she didn’t come to you first just to get it over and done with, every other witch before you was a tougher nut to crack then the last. You were merely the reward for a hard days work.

‘You won’t regret this darling, that I promise you along with power, love and so much more.’ Agatha tells you as she rubs your back.

You poor, idiotic fool, let’s pray you do survive the road and not die with a broken heart when you realise the truth…

[drdemonprince]

hey, so this is super random and I’m not sure if you have thought about this but figured I’d ask: (came to my mind after reading your story in *unmasking* about intervening in street harassment)

I’m audhd and it really affects my sensory processing, social/ situational awareness etc since it’s hard for me to discern which stimuli are important in any given situation. I’m also realizing that I never really feel unsafe as a single woman in a dense city environment, even when my friends feel unsafe. Makes it hard to trust my own intuition about that kinda stuff since everyone I know apart from myself has that experience.

Question is, do you happen to have any info/ best practices about situational awareness and judging the danger of potentially sketchy situations? Walking around the city at night, creepy rural gas station, online hookup, greyhound bus alone etc.

Everything online says “trust your intuition” but my intuition always says “ehh it’ll be fine” lol.

The truth is, it usually WILL be fine. Most people's *~magical crime and danger intuition~* is a combination of true crime slop, inaccurate media coverage of the crime rate inflating their anxieties, and classism and racism. The vast majority of crimes are not committed by random strangers lurking in the dark, but between individuals who know one another and in circumstances that are at least somewhat explicable, and so you do not need magic empath powers to determine if you will be safe somewhere or not.

The way you keep relatively safe is by informing yourself of the facts, not the hype -- look up the actual crime statistics for your area, for example, though be highly skeptical of them. These figures are collected by the police state and we cannot trust them to define what safety or unsafety even IS, as they are the source of the danger for the majority of us. What they classify as crime and where they bother to enforce crime is highly skewed, and itself can create massive misapprehensions. So make sure to also speak with people in the communities you are visiting about what happens to them and the general vibe. Also spend a lot of time out in your community yourself, observing things, talking to people, hanging out, maybe volunteering, and learning the lay of the land. You'll have more people around to help you if you ever need it, and you'll find more occasions where your help is needed, too!

Follow some basic, common sense advice to avoid making oneself especially vulnerable, but don't over-isolate yourself. Things like keeping one earbud out of your ear when walking home alone at night and not keeping a purse open on the train are always sensible maneuvers; carrying pepper spray or a gun that will more likely be used to harm you is not. Learn how to de-escalate people if you don't already know -- acting calm, making your posture non-threatening but confident, moving slowly and predictably, avoiding provocative eye contact, changing the subject of conversation, engaging a victim of harassment and pretending to know them in order to drag them away from a bad situation, etc. These things will be helpful to you if a situation arises, and the more prepared you feel, the less anxious you ever have to be.

Honestly, moving through the world with a "this feels fine / seems fine" energy is ITSELF massively protective. I have ALWAYS walked around alone at night, even when I was a small 18 year old "girl," including in areas where the majority of women of my then-demographic would have not felt "safe" going out on their own. By and large, I was completely fine. People really don't want to mess with you if you seem like you have a handle on your shit and are not afraid of them.

The worst that ever happened to me was a guy grabbing my tit -- in broad daylight on a sunday on a train packed full of people. It really couldn't have been avoided. And a guy flashing me -- again in midday in a family oriented neighborhood many would deem safe. I survived these things, and I defended myself by getting aggressive with the guys who did them, and physically attacking them, which scared them off. I'm glad I did what I did, and I'm glad I wasn't so intimidated by the possibility of scary stranger danger that I kept myself sequestered away.

The few other times anyone made me uncomfortable, it was things like leering comments or walking alongside me for a block, hitting on me (sometimes, yes, late at night), but because I was able to be assertive, unbothered, and stand my ground, the guys always gave up or were scared off (by me). And this reaction from me is one I largely credit to having no instinctual "stranger danger" crime intuition of the sort most white women are conditioned to have.

In short, I think your instincts might be more accurate to reality than your friends' are. It's good to look around and pay attention to things, to learn to recognize patterns, to study one's area, to speak to people in your community and know what's going on, and to prepare oneself for hard situations, which WILL happen to you sometimes no matter what you do. but the world is rarely as scary as it's made out to be.

[pedroscowgirl]

Breaking the silence

Aaron hotchner x fem bau!reader

part one is here

Warnings: smut minors DNI

p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral!f receiving, riding him, a bit angsty? (conflicted between spence and hotch), power dynamics (he's your boss)

lmk if i forgot something (i prob did)

summary: After much contemplation, you’ve finally made a decision about who you truly want to be with. Although traces of guilt still linger in your mind regarding your choice, Aaron has a unique ability to ease those feelings. wc: 7.4k

A/n: I'm so down bad for this man yall... also I didn't proofread this yet

The briefing room felt colder than usual, the soft murmur of voices blending into the background. The case details flashed on the screen, a series of abductions that led us to a small town in the Midwest. Normally, you’d be fully focused on the profile, mentally piecing together the unsub’s next move, but today, your mind was elsewhere.

Hotch was standing at the head of the table, his posture as controlled and rigid as ever. His deep voice filled the room as he outlined our next steps, but your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. The way his jaw tensed when he was deep in thought, how his eyes would flicker toward me for just a second before shifting back to the case… It was impossible to ignore what had happened between us.

That night in the office—when the line between boss and agent blurred—kept replaying in your mind. The feel of his hands on you, the raw intensity in his touch, the way his control finally cracked. And now? Now it was like we were strangers again.

“Everyone clear on the plan?” Hotch’s voice cut through the haze in your head.

You blinked, realizing the rest of the team was already standing up, ready to move. “Yes, sir,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your files and standing.

As we filed out of the room, you could feel Hotch’s gaze linger on you, even if only for a split second. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, but neither of you had dared to acknowledge what had happened. Not at work. Not anywhere.

The case had you working late into the night. Morgan and Rossi were canvassing witnesses, while Reid was piecing together the behavioral patterns of the unsub. You were stationed with Hotch, going over surveillance footage from the surrounding areas, but being alone with him felt like a trap.

You hadn’t talked since that night. There hadn’t been time, or maybe you’d both been avoiding it. But the tension was there, unrelenting.

“We’re missing something,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him as you stared at the grainy footage on the screen.

Hotch remained silent beside you, but you could feel the weight of his presence. His stoic demeanor had always been a source of strength for the team, but now, it felt suffocating.

“You should get some rest,” he finally said, his voice low, though it carried that same authoritative edge.

you shook your head. “I’m fine.”

His gaze flickered to you, something unreadable in his dark eyes. “You’ve been distracted,” he said softly, his tone not accusing, but concerned.

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. He wasn’t wrong. You had been distracted, but not by the case. “I’m good, Hotch,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you actually felt.

But then, his hand was on yours, a brief, barely-there touch that sent a jolt through your entire body. You glanced up at him, and for the first time since that night, his composed mask cracked just slightly.

“I didn’t mean for things to… get complicated,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a tension that mirrored your own.

you took a breath, steadying yourself. “Neither did I.”

For a long moment, we just stood there, the soft hum of the surveillance equipment the only sound in the room. His fingers curled slightly, brushing against your hand again, and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” he said, but the words lacked conviction. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and intense. “But I can’t stop thinking about it.”

you felt your heart race, the memory of his lips on yours, the feel of his body pressed against you, rushing back with overwhelming clarity. “Neither can I,” you whispered, the admission slipping out before you could stop it.

His jaw tensed, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat back into his professional shell. But instead, he took a step closer, closing the small distance between you. His hand slid from yours, moving to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“I can’t afford to be distracted,” he murmured, his voice tight with restraint. “Not here. Not now.”

You nodded, though your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch despite the warning. “I know.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t stop the pull between you two. There was something about Hotch, something about the way he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and yet still found moments like this, moments where he could let someone in. And now that you’d seen that side of him, you weren’t sure you could let it go.

Before you could think better of it, you reached up, your fingers gently brushing against his hand. “We’ll figure this out,” you said softly, echoing the words he’d said to you that night.

For a second, his eyes softened, and you could see the vulnerability there, the part of him that so few people ever got to see. But then, just as quickly, his expression hardened again, the walls slamming back into place.

“We have to,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He dropped his hand from your face, stepping back and putting the distance between you again. The moment was gone, the heat dissipating as quickly as it had ignited. But you knew, just as he did, that nothing between us would ever be the same.

The team gathered for a debriefing the next day, the tension from the case still hanging in the air. But beneath that, there was something else, a tension that existed only between Hotch and you. You avoided his gaze, focusing on the task at hand, but you could feel him watching you, just as you watched him.

Spencer noticed your silence, giving me a concerned look, but you brushed him off, unwilling to explain the mess you found yourself in. After all, how could you? How could you explain that you were torn between two worlds, the professional and the personal, and that the man at the center of it all was someone you weren’t supposed to feel this way about?

But as the day wore on, and the weight of the case dragged you deeper into its complexities, you realized something: no matter how hard I tried to bury your feelings, they weren’t going anywhere.

And neither, it seemed, was Aaron Hotchner.

------------

The flight back from the case felt longer than usual. The team was asleep, no surprise, given the weight of the case we had just wrapped. Except for Spencer. Normally, you would have struck up a conversation with him by now, engaging him in one of his countless facts or theories. But today, the silence between you was heavy.

He sat next to you on the jet, his fingers fidgeting with a deck of cards, absentmindedly shuffling them. You could feel him glancing at you, his hazel eyes filled with questions. You hadn’t talked about your feelings. Not properly. And now, with the growing complexity between Hotch and you, you felt even more tangled up inside.

"You’ve been quiet," Spencer said softly, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

you shifted in your seat, trying to force a smile. "Just tired," you replied, though it was a poor excuse. The truth was that you didn’t know how to explain the emotional storm raging inside of you.

Spencer wasn’t fooled. He’s a profiler after all. "Is it because of Hotch?"

His question caught you off guard. you blinked, turning to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. How much did he know? How much had he noticed?

"What do you mean?" you asked, keeping your tone neutral.

Spencer’s gaze was steady, though there was a softness to it. "I saw how he looked at you. During the debriefing, before we left for the case… There’s something between you two, isn’t there?"

The air between you thickened with the weight of his words. I couldn’t deny it. Not anymore. You had spent days trying to push it aside, trying to compartmentalize the emotions you felt for Hotch, but Spencer was right. There was something between Hotch and you. Something you hadn’t fully understood until that moment.

But how could you explain that to Spencer—the man who had been nothing but kind, gentle, and patient with you? The man whose kiss had felt like safety, like home, even as your mind was spinning with confusion about Hotch.

"Spence, I…" you hesitated, searching for the right words. His eyes were so sincere, so trusting, and you hated the thought of hurting him. "It’s complicated."

He gave you a small, sad smile, his fingers still fidgeting with the cards. "I figured. I mean, it’s Hotch. He’s… well, he’s him."

you let out a breath, grateful for Spencer’s understanding but also pained by it. He was making it so easy for you to talk to him, and that only made things harder.

"Our kiss…" you began, your voice quieter now. "It meant something to me. You mean something to me."

Spencer looked at you, his expression softening. "You mean something to me too."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing. "But I don’t know what to do about Hotch. I didn’t plan for this to happen. I didn’t expect to feel… anything for him. But now, I can’t stop thinking about him either."

The truth spilled out before you could stop it. The tangled mess of emotions that had been building up inside you was now laid bare between you. And the look on Spencer’s face—God, it broke your heart. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved someone who wasn’t so conflicted, someone who wasn’t caught between two people.

"I don’t want to hurt you, Spencer," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the cards in his hands. "I know."

For a moment, the silence between you was unbearable. You could feel the weight of your indecision pressing down on both of you, suffocating the easy connection you had once shared. And you hated it. You hated that you had brought this confusion into our relationship. But most of all, you hated that I didn’t have an answer.

Finally, Spencer spoke again, his voice quiet but steady. "Do you love him?"

His question hung in the air, heavy with meaning. It wasn’t accusatory—it was simply Spencer trying to understand. But the weight of it made your heart clench.

Did you love Hotch?

you didn’t know. What you felt for him was intense, powerful, something you hadn’t been able to shake since that night in his office. But love? Was it love, or was it something else—something darker, more complicated?

"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I care about him. A lot."

Spencer nodded, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything for a long time, just sat there with his cards, his mind clearly processing everything you had just told him. When he finally looked back at you, there was a sadness in his eyes, but also a quiet acceptance.

"I’ve always known you and Hotch had… something," he said softly. "I just didn’t want to admit it."

The guilt twisted inside you like a knife. "I never meant for it to happen, Spence."

"I know." He smiled gently, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "It’s okay. I just… I want you to be happy. Even if that’s with him."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. How could he be so selfless, so willing to put your happiness above his own? you didn’t deserve that kind of kindness. Not when you were the one causing this mess.

"Spencer, I—"

Before you could finish, he reached out, pulling a strand of hair behind your face. "I care about you," he said softly. "And I’m not going anywhere. But you need to figure this out. For yourself. For both of us." He gave you a kiss on your cheek and you nodded, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. He was right, of course. you needed to sort through your feelings, to understand what it was that you truly wanted.

---------

The restaurant buzzed with the warm sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. You sat at the edge of the booth, tucked between JJ and Reid, who were deep in conversation about something scientific you couldn’t quite follow. Normally, you would have been engrossed, eager to hear Spencer’s detailed explanation of whatever fact he was spouting tonight, but your attention was elsewhere.

Across the table, Hotch was nursing a glass of scotch, his dark eyes occasionally flicking in your direction. Each time they did, your heart skipped a beat, your stomach tightening with the unspoken tension that had been simmering between the two of you since that night in the office.

You tried to stay focused on the conversation around you, tried to pretend like the heat you felt was just the warmth from the restaurant and not the lingering burn from Hotch’s gaze, but it was impossible. The way he watched you, with that quiet intensity, made it hard to breathe. It felt like he was silently pulling you toward him, and no matter how much you tried to stay anchored to the moment, you couldn’t escape it.

"Are you okay?" Spencer’s voice pulled you back into the present, his brow furrowed in concern as he looked at you.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I’m fine Spence, don’t worry."

Spencer nodded, his gaze soft and understanding. He knew you too well, better than you sometimes liked to admit. But tonight, there was no space for that softness. Not with the way Hotch kept looking at you like he was undressing you with his eyes, peeling back layers of professionalism you’d tried so hard to maintain.

You took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid doing little to calm the heat rising in your chest. You needed to step away—needed a moment to collect yourself before you did something reckless. Without saying much, you slid out from the booth, excusing yourself from the table and heading toward the patio outside.

The cool air hit your skin like a welcome reprieve. You took a deep breath, leaning against the railing and looking out at the dark street below, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. The evening had been so casual, so light, but underneath it all, there was this tension, this pull that kept drawing you back to one person.

"Couldn’t handle all the noise in there either?"

Hotch’s voice broke through the quiet, sending a jolt through your body. You hadn’t realized he’d followed you outside, but now, standing just a few feet away, he seemed impossibly close.

You turned to face him, your pulse quickening at the sight of him in the dim light. The way his broad shoulders filled out his jacket, the sharp angles of his jaw catching the glow from the streetlamp, it was all too much. "Needed some air," you managed to say, your voice softer than you’d intended.

Hotch stepped closer, his presence commanding, as always. "It’s been a long week," he said, his voice low and steady. "You did good work."

His compliment should have made you feel proud, but instead, it only added to the tension. The way he said it, the way his eyes lingered on you, it wasn’t just about the case. There was more behind his words.

"Thanks," you replied, your breath catching slightly as he moved even closer, his body now just inches from yours.

The night air suddenly felt too warm, your skin prickling with the awareness of how close he was, how easily you could reach out and touch him. You shouldn’t. You knew that. But the temptation was overwhelming.

His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, and when he looked back up, there was a heat in his eyes that made your knees weak. "We shouldn’t be out here alone," he murmured, though there was no real conviction in his voice.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel the pull between you both growing stronger, the line between what was right and what you wanted blurring more with each passing second. "Maybe we shouldn’t," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you didn’t move.

Neither did he.

The space between you felt charged, electric. Your body hummed with anticipation, every inch of you hyperaware of how close he was, how much you wanted to close the gap. His hand brushed against yours, and the simple contact sent a shockwave through you, your breath hitching in your throat.

"Hotch…" you started, but the words caught in your throat as his fingers curled around your wrist, pulling you gently toward him. The touch was subtle, controlled, but it was enough to break whatever restraint you’d been holding onto.

You found yourself pressed against the railing, Hotch standing over you, his gaze dark and intense. His hand slid up your arm, leaving a trail of heat in its wake as he moved closer, his body almost flush against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the sheer presence of him overwhelming your senses.

"We can’t keep doing this," he whispered, but the way his breath ghosted over your skin told you he didn’t really mean it.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as his face inched closer to yours. You could feel his breath, warm and steady, brushing against your lips. "Then why are you here?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with tension, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, might retreat back behind the walls of professionalism he always kept up. But instead, he leaned in, his lips just barely grazing yours.

"Because I can’t stay away from you," he admitted, his voice raw and low.

The confession sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think better of it, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like you were both testing the waters, but the moment his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, everything else faded away. The world around you disappeared, and all that was left was the feel of his mouth on yours, the heat of his body pressing against you.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket as the kiss deepened, all the tension that had been building between you finally breaking. His lips moved with a fierce intensity, like he had been holding back for far too long, and now there was no stopping it.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring with a confidence that made your heart race even faster. Every touch, every press of his fingers against your skin, set you on fire, the overwhelming need for him consuming you.

You gasped softly as his mouth moved to your neck, his lips trailing hot kisses along your skin, sending a wave of heat through your body. Your head fell back, giving him better access as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer.

"Hotch…" you breathed, barely able to form the words as he continued to kiss you, his hands sliding under your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending shivers across your skin.

"We shouldn’t do this here" he muttered again against your skin, but the way his body pressed against yours, the way his breath came faster, told you neither of you were stopping.

The sound of laughter broke through the fog in your mind, pulling you back to reality for a moment. You suddenly remembered where you were. the team just inside the restaurant, Spencer probably wondering where you had gone.

You pulled back slightly, your breath shaky as you looked up at Hotch. His eyes were dark, filled with a hunger that made your pulse quicken all over again, but there was a flicker of hesitation there too.

"Spencer’s going to wonder…" you trailed off, not finishing the thought, the guilt creeping in.

Hotch’s jaw tensed, his hands still resting on your hips. "I know," he said quietly, but his gaze remained fixed on yours, filled with a conflict that mirrored your own.

You wanted him. You wanted him more than you had ever wanted anyone. But as you stood there, Hotch’s hands still on your body, the heat between you still burning, you realized that no matter what choice you made, things would never be the same again.

The cool night air still clung to your skin as you stepped back into the restaurant, your pulse racing from the kiss you had just shared with Hotch. Every inch of you still felt electrified, your body buzzing from the intensity of the moment. You were trying to play it cool, act as if nothing had happened, but it was hard when your heart was pounding in your chest, and the heat of Hotch’s touch still lingered on your skin.

You glanced sideways at Hotch as he walked next to you, his face composed but his jaw tight. Neither of you spoke a word as you rejoined the team, but the silence between you was filled with unspoken tension. It was as if everyone in the room could sense that something had shifted.

Morgan was the first to notice. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a playful grin. "Well, well, look who finally decided to come back," he teased, his eyes darting between you and Hotch. "What were you two doing out there? Planning world domination?"

You forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. "Just needed some air," you replied, sliding into your seat next to Spencer, who was watching you with quiet curiosity.

Hotch didn’t respond. He simply took his place back at the head of the table, picking up his glass of scotch as if nothing had happened. But you could feel his presence, strong, commanding, and impossibly close, even though there was now a table between you.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your casual response. "Air, huh? Looked a little more intense than that." His teasing tone carried an edge of curiosity that made your stomach twist.

You shot him a quick glare, trying to will the heat creeping up your neck to disappear. "Just some air, Morgan. You’re reading too much into it."

Before Morgan could press further, Garcia piped up, her bright voice cutting through the tension. "Come on, Derek, leave them alone. Not everyone needs to be in on your gossip." She shot you a wink, though there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes too.

Spencer smiled at you, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if searching for the truth beneath your words. His kindness, his understanding, made your heart ache. But the guilt that twisted inside you wasn’t enough to erase the pull you felt toward Aaron. The two men couldn’t have been more different, and yet, you found yourself caught between them, unable to make sense of your own feelings.

Morgan, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, leaned forward, his playful smirk returning. "Well, whatever you were doing out there, just know we all have bets going about who’s sneaking off with who tonight."

JJ shot him a look of exasperation. "Derek."

"What? I’m just saying. We all see how you two keep sneaking off," he said with a grin, his eyes darting between you and Hotch.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off. "It’s nothing like that, Morgan."

But your words felt hollow, especially when Hotch’s gaze flickered briefly in your direction. The weight of what had happened outside was too fresh, too raw, and you could feel the shift in energy between you both, even if no one else knew the truth.

Morgan was still watching you with a knowing smirk, clearly not convinced by your attempts to brush him off. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. "Come on, something’s up. You’ve been acting weird all night."

You glanced at him, trying to think of something, anything, to say that would get him off your back. But before you could respond, Hotch’s deep voice cut through the noise.

"Morgan, leave it."

The command was calm, but firm. It wasn’t a request. Morgan straightened up in his seat, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I’ll drop it." He shot you a quick glance, his curiosity still simmering just beneath the surface, but he let it go—for now.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, grateful for Hotch’s intervention but also hyper-aware of how close you had come to unraveling under Morgan’s scrutiny.

Spencer’s hand brushed against yours under the table, a small, innocent touch that made your heart clench. You turned to him, his soft gaze meeting yours. He didn’t say anything, but his presence was steady, grounding you in a way that made you feel both comforted and guilty at the same time.

-----------------

You were barely out of your clothes and into your pajamas when the knock echoed through the quiet of your hotel room. For a moment, you considered ignoring it. You were too exhausted to deal with any more emotional turmoil, but something—someone—pulled you toward the door.

When you opened it, Hotch stood there, his expression neutral as always, but there was something about the way he looked at you tonight. His jaw was tight, his eyes searching yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hotch?" you asked, confused by his sudden appearance. "What’s going on?"

He hesitated for a moment, his hand gripping the doorframe as if steadying himself. "Can I come in?" he asked, his voice low and controlled, but there was an edge to it, something unspoken beneath the surface.

You stepped aside, letting him in. The door clicked shut behind him, the soft hum of the hotel room suddenly feeling deafening. You could feel the tension radiating off of him, but you had no idea what had brought him here tonight.

He stood in the middle of the room, his hands at his sides, his posture rigid. "I saw what happened on the plane," he said finally, his voice calm, but you could hear the weight in his words. "With Spencer."

Your breath caught in your throat. Spencer had kissed your cheek after your conversation, a simple gesture of affection, but it had felt like so much more in the moment. You hadn’t realized Hotch had seen it.

"Hotch, I—"

He cut you off, his voice still infuriatingly neutral. "I think you should be with Spencer."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. His tone was so matter-of-fact, so calm, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t unaffected by this. For a man who always kept his emotions tightly locked away, there was a flicker of something vulnerable in his gaze now, something you hadn’t seen before.

You stared at him, your heart racing. "What?" you whispered, stepping closer to him. "Hotch, no…"

He clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering away from yours for the briefest moment before returning to your face. "He cares about you. I saw the way he looks at you, and I saw how you two talked on the plane. He kissed you." His voice was steady, but there was something underneath it—something raw. "Spencer can give you what you need. What I can't."

His words twisted inside of you, confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. How could he think that? After everything that had happened between you, after all the tension and moments you had shared, how could he believe you’d choose someone else?

"Hotch, you don’t understand," you said, your voice trembling slightly. You took another step closer, your hand reaching out to touch his arm, desperate to make him see what he was missing. "I want you. That’s what I told Spencer."

The silence between you felt thick, charged with emotions you could no longer ignore. His eyes softened just slightly, the stoic façade he always wore cracking at the edges.

"I told him," you continued, your voice gaining strength. "I told him that I care about him, but it’s you. It’s always been you."

For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at you like he wasn’t sure if he should believe you. But then, his hands slid up to your waist, and the tension between you snapped like a rubber band stretched too far.

Without another word, you leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a kiss that was filled with all the frustration, the longing, the desire you had been holding back for so long. It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was desperate, like you hadn’t kissed him in ages, like you were trying to prove everything you couldn’t put into words.

Hotch responded immediately, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you closer, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. His hands roamed over your body, exploring with a need that mirrored your own, his touch igniting a fire inside you that you hadn’t been able to extinguish since the first time you kissed.

His body pressed against yours, pinning you gently against the door as his mouth devoured yours, the tension that had been simmering between you finally finding release. You moaned softly into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands slid under your shirt, his touch hot against your skin.

"Hotch," you gasped, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, but he didn’t give you time to recover. His lips were on your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat, making your pulse race.

"I shouldn’t want this," he muttered against your skin, his voice rough and filled with restraint. "But I do. God, I do."

His confession sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into him, your body pressing against his in a way that left no space between you. "Then don’t stop," you whispered, your voice breathless as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the heat of him through his shirt.

Hotch groaned softly, his hands sliding up your waist and over your hips, pulling you even closer. His fingers dug into your skin, his touch possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You kissed him again, hard and hungry, your lips moving against his with a desperation that mirrored his. The tension between you had finally reached its breaking point, and now, there was no turning back. His hands were everywhere—on your waist, your hips, your back—exploring every inch of you with a need that made your head spin.

Your shirt was pushed up, his hands sliding under the fabric to touch your bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You gasped softly as his fingers brushed against the curve of your waist, your entire body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control.

"Hotch…" you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he answered in that deep, sexy voice that made your whole body heat up.

"I need you so badly."

His eyes darkened at your words, and without hesitation, he scooped you up effortlessly and laid you down on the bed. The way he moved—so strong, so sure—made your heart race even faster. He hovered over you for a moment, his eyes trailing over your body, before his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up and over your head.

You felt exposed under his gaze, but it only added to the excitement coursing through you. His lips found the soft skin of your neck, kissing, nipping, and trailing lower with each breath. When his mouth reached the swell of your breasts, he paused, looking up at you with a smirk that sent a wave of heat through your core.

“God, your tits are so hot,” he murmured, his voice rougher than usual, and it took you by surprise. You were so used to his professional, composed demeanor that this raw, vulgar side of him was both shocking and incredibly arousing.

The dirty words made your body respond instantly, a fresh wave of wetness pooling between your thighs.

His mouth latched onto your nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before pulling it between his lips. A gasp escaped your throat, and your hand flew to his hair, tangling your fingers in the soft strands as he groaned against your skin. The vibration of his voice against your breast sent shivers down your spine.

He alternated between your breasts, his hands kneading your flesh while his mouth worked you over, sucking and kissing every inch of you until your entire body was humming with desire. His hands were warm and firm, and every touch sent sparks of pleasure through you, heightening the need that had been building between you all night.

When he finally moved lower, kissing down your stomach with a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses, your heart pounded in anticipation. He paused when he reached the waistband of your shorts, looking up at you with that devilish smirk again.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice soft, but filled with desire.

“Yes, please,” you breathed, unable to hide the desperation in your voice.

He hooked his fingers into your shorts, pulling them down slowly, torturously, and when he revealed your white lace underwear, his eyes lit up with amusement.

“You knew I was coming here tonight?” he teased, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill through you.

You smiled up at him, biting your lip as you watched him. “Maybe,” you whispered, the teasing tone in your voice barely masking the fact that your body was already aching for him.

He groaned softly, his hands brushing over your hips before he slowly dragged your underwear down your legs, tossing them aside. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, dark and intense as they took in every inch of your naked body. The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.

And then, without another word, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, his lips soft against your skin. Your breath hitched, anticipation building as he moved closer to your center, teasing you, making you wait. His hands slid up your legs, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, and when his mouth finally met your core, you gasped, your hips jerking toward him instinctively.

Hotch groaned against you, his tongue working slowly, deliberately, as if he was savoring every moment. The heat of his mouth was overwhelming, and the way his tongue circled your clit had your entire body trembling.

“Oh God, Hotch,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair again as your back arched off the bed. The pleasure was intense, almost too much, but you couldn’t get enough. Every stroke of his tongue sent you higher, building the tension inside you until you thought you might explode.

He gripped your thighs, pulling you closer as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his tongue working you over with expert precision. You were already so close, your body teetering on the edge of release, and when he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you were done for.

The pressure inside you built to a breaking point, and with a cry of his name, you came hard, your entire body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Hotch didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working you through your release, prolonging the pleasure until you were completely spent.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you collapsed back against the bed, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. Hotch slowly pulled away, his mouth and fingers leaving your body as he kissed his way back up your stomach, over your breasts, and finally to your lips.

You kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The fire between you hadn’t dimmed, it had only just begun.

“I need you,” you whispered against his lips, your voice still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm.

Hotch groaned softly, his hands sliding up your body as he positioned himself over you. “You have me,” he replied, his voice thick with desire.

And with a fluid motion, Hotch gripped your waist and pulled you on top of him, flipping your positions in one swift move. You straddled him, your thighs resting on either side of his hips as you looked down at him. The sight of him lying beneath you, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his eyes dark and full of lust, made your pulse quicken. He seemed so in control and yet, completely undone by the sight of you.

You reached for his tie, slowly loosening the knot. Your fingers trembled as you slid it free, tossing it aside before your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt. You took your time, savoring the moment as you unbuttoned each one, revealing more of his chest with every flick of your fingers. When his shirt was fully undone, you pushed it open, running your hands over the firm muscles of his chest, your palms lingering over the warmth of his skin.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as you leaned down, pressing your lips to his skin, kissing and sucking at the exposed flesh. You trailed your mouth from his collarbone down to his chest, leaving small, dark marks in your wake. His breath hitched, and you felt his hands slide up your thighs, gripping them tightly as he groaned.

"Fuck, naughty girl," he muttered, his voice dripping with desire. His grip tightened in your hair, tugging your head back just slightly so he could look into your eyes. "You wanna mark me up, huh?"

The man who was always so stern, so composed, had completely unraveled beneath you, and you reveled in the control you had over him.

Your lips curved into a sly smile. "Maybe I do," you teased, your breath hot against his skin.

His eyes darkened even more, filled with a raw hunger that sent your heart racing. Without another word, he pulled you down, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that was all heat and desperation. His tongue found yours, demanding and unrelenting, and you moaned softly into his mouth as your body melted into his.

His hands slid from your hair to your waist, gripping you firmly as he kissed you deeper. You could feel the hardness of him beneath you, and the anticipation of what was to come made your entire body throb with need.

"Ride me," he commanded, his voice low and full of desire. The authority in his tone sent a thrill through you, making your stomach flip with excitement.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached down, your fingers working to unbutton and unzip his pants. You tugged them down just enough to free him, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw him, thick, hard, and more than ready for you. The sheer size of him made your body clench with anticipation.

You couldn’t wait any longer. You positioned yourself above him. And as you lowered yourself onto him, the stretch was immediate and intense. He was so big, filling you up completely, and you gasped as the sensation took over, your nails digging into his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips as he watched you intently. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with restraint. "You feel so good."

You paused for a moment, needing to adjust to the fullness of him. The pressure of having him so deep inside you made your head spin, and you bit your lip, trying to steady yourself. The pleasure was overwhelming, but you needed a second before you could move.

But Hotch wasn’t in the mood to wait.

His hands gripped your hips more tightly, and with a low growl, he began to move you, guiding your body up and down his length. The sudden movement made you cry out in pleasure, your hands bracing against his chest as your body rocked with his.

"Aaron…" you whimpered, your voice barely more than a gasp as the sensation of him inside you sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The stretch, the fullness, the way he hit every perfect spot inside you, it was too much and not enough all at once.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he set the pace, thrusting up into you as he moved you on top of him. "God, you’re so tight," he growled, his voice rough and filled with a raw intensity that made your entire body tremble. "Look at you, taking me so well…"

You couldn’t respond, your mind was too clouded with pleasure, your body completely lost in the sensation of him filling you over and over again. Every time he thrust into you, it sent a bolt of electricity through your core, making your thighs quiver and your breath come in ragged gasps.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you, threatening to consume you whole. "Hotch," you gasped, your head falling back as your body rocked against his. The tension inside you was coiling tighter and tighter, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

His hands slid up your waist, guiding you with steady, relentless movements as he watched you with hooded eyes. "Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "You gonna come for me?"

The words sent you spiraling. The intensity of his gaze, the heat of his hands on your body, the sheer pleasure of having him so deep inside you, it was too much. Your body tensed, your thighs trembling as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you.

"Aaron!" you cried out, your body convulsing as you came hard, the pleasure so intense that it left you shaking. Your hips bucked against his, your nails digging into his chest as your vision blurred, and all you could feel was him.

He groaned, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he thrust up into you harder, faster, chasing his own release. His muscles tensed beneath you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he reached his peak. "Fuck…" he growled, his hands digging into your hips as he came, his release filling you completely.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both of you too caught up in the aftermath of your pleasure to speak. Your body was still trembling, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you collapsed onto his chest, your head resting against him as you tried to steady yourself.

Hotch’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as his chest rose and fell beneath you. His hands slid up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes, his breath still heavy in your ear. "You’re incredible," he whispered, his voice soft, almost tender.

You smiled against his skin, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "So are you," you replied, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest as you caught your breath.

Hotch’s hand came up to cup your face, tilting your chin so you could look into his eyes. There was a softness there, a vulnerability that made your heart ache. "You mean so much to me," he whispered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "More than you know."

You felt your chest tighten, the weight of his words settling over you. "I feel the same way," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze

[yuseirra]

Ch 161~

Can't draw so much during the week..!

More commentary about 161..

I'm actually convinced Fatal and Mephisto should be Kamiki's song?? I think some things hint of it.

and that he DOES really care about Aqua.

and that he does have to do with Sarutahiko, Amenouzume's husband(although this part is a speculation)

More stuff in the read more:

(first written in another language and chatGPT helped me translate it... I can't write things like this twice ;v; it's a great world here. so convenient~)

Honestly, it's frustrating and a bit agonizing; what is this even about? The plot is stressful, but...

Still, being able to focus like this... I guess it’s a good thing to find a work that hooks you and makes you think deeply in some way.

LOL, it also means I’m living a life where I have enough time to care about a manga, even though I’m currently in a pretty tough spot.

This manga, whether it's in a good or bad direction, seems to be driving me crazy in its own way.

If I’m disappointed, I can always go read something else, (I even got permission from someone to draw a Persona fanfic fanart, but I’ve been too hooked on this manga to do it.. that fanfic was so good.. I need to do it sooner or later..).

But I was so confident about my analyses. Like, really... I’m usually good at picking up on these kinds of things? This manga is great at psychological portrayal, and it was amusing to analyze that, There are just too many things sticking out for me, and things feel uneasy.

It’s not about the pairing... It just keeps bothering me... Am I really missing the mark on this? I’m usually good at sensing these things...

Without the movie arc, this development would be fine, but that arc is sandwiched in there, and I interpreted the character based on that too...

Honestly, every time I listen to the songs, I get this strong feeling like, "This isn’t Aqua." The kind of emotions in these songs, it's not him that's singing them. It's the dad. I immediately posted about it when I first heard it in July. As soon as I heard it, I thought, "This is it," and got a gut feeling.

I really want to feel that emotion again.

Even if Kamiki does turn out to be a serial killer, I still think these songs could describe his inner state.

I think we’ll get some explanation in the next five chapters or so, even if it takes a bit longer.

Also, the expression Kamiki makes when Aqua stabs him is so genuine. Until that moment, he had been smiling, but...

If that expression was because he suddenly felt threatened with his life, it’s a bit pathetic. But... I don’t think that’s the case. What I really pay attention to are the emotional flow and expressions.

When Aqua says he wants to watch Ruby perform, the smile on Kamiki’s face... it’s soft. That’s... definitely a look of affection. It’s not like, “Oh, I've won him over!” or, “Yes, I’ve convinced him!” I interpreted it as Kamiki having paternal love, and there was a scene that backed up that idea earlier. I’m sure he really likes Aqua.

That’s not a bad expression. It’s more like, "Yeah, you wish to see Ruby, don't you. Go ahead, watch her. Keep living" (Which makes me wonder, is he really planning to harm Ruby? If he harms her, maybe he plans to do it after the Dome performance? But even that doesn’t make sense. Does that mean Aqua would have to come back to stab him AGAIN after that takes place?? Does it really add up to his logic for telling him to go watch her?)

Aqua says Kamiki will destroy Ruby’s future, but...

How exactly is he going to do that? Hasn't this guy literally done nothing? If they're talking about the Dome performance, at least that should go off without a hitch, right? So at least until then, Ruby would be safe?? So, Kamiki isn't planning to harm Ruby now at least, right? Even with that weird.. logic that he proposes (I hope he's lying about that tbh)

Then when Aqua smiles and says something like, "Haha, but I’ll just kill you and die with you," while pointing the knife at him again...

Kamiki’s expression at that moment really stands out, and it’s not like a twisted look of being frustrated about things not going his way. It’s not anger or annoyance he's feeling. It’s the same shocked and despairing expression we saw in chapters 146 and 153.

Aqua seems to have no clue what kind of person his father really is, huh? He can’t read him at all.

Honestly, from the way Kamiki speaks, I get the impression that he’s actually quite kind. He’s not saying anything too wrong.

Remember the scene where Ruby gets angry because people were talking carelessly about Ai’s death? Kamiki probably knows about that too. I think Aqua and Ai, and Ruby and Kamiki, are quite alike in nature. Kamiki might’ve felt a lot of grief over Ai at that time. I do believe he loved Ai.

The phrase, "People don’t want the truth," is pretty painful, especially if you think about Ai. That’s why Ai lived telling lies. Isn't Kamiki thinking about what's happened to her, then? By bringing that up? He should have felt it, loving/watching a person like her and what unfolded.. Ai died because of the truth that she had kids with him. Ugly fans like Ryosuke and Nino couldn't take her being less than perfect. Wouldn't this have hurt Kamiki too? The fact that they loved each other(At least Ai did genuinely, we know that) was unwanted. People could not accept that, and that's one of the reasons why they had to break up.

From the way Kamiki talks, it feels like he genuinely doesn’t want his son or daughter to go through that kind of pain.

I think Kamiki has a pretty good nature. When you look at how he speaks, it’s gentle, and he seems to genuinely care about Aqua and knows a lot about him. Maybe he’s been watching over him from afar for a long time? He probably even knows who his son has feelings for.

It really feels like Kamiki is trying to persuade him: "I’m fine with dying. But you, you have so many reasons to live, right? Shouldn’t you return to the people you care about?"

And, the way Kamiki reacts after Aqua stabs him also shows it. He’s visibly agitated afterward. His expression noticeably shifts to panic and darkness.

Wait... stop it, don’t do this! That’s what he says.

The way he’s talking to Aqua in that moment.

It’s not like, “How dare you?” but more like, “Aqua, please don’t do this.”

It really seems like he doesn’t want Aqua to die.

He’s really shocked by it.

From his expressions, he seems more shocked by Aqua getting stabbed than by his own fall, like he didn’t even know how to react properly. He's being grabbed onto but he isn't looking at the hands that are grabbing him, his line of sight is on Aqua there

The final expression he makes can seem really pathetic, but...

Oh man, I think that’s the truth of that situation.

And it makes sense because Ai dreamed of raising her kids with this guy. I think he could’ve been a really great father who adored his kids... at least until the point they separated. He was just really young back then.

Doesn’t this guy really love his kids? Even without the movie arc, there have been hints of his concern for them.

I’m not trying to interpret him kindly just because I particularly like or find this character attractive.

If he’s a serial killer psychopath, then yeah, he should die here. When I first got spoiled, my reaction was completely merciless. "Well, he should die if he's like that," I said. But...

I don’t think that’s the case. It really seems like he cares about Aqua.

Oh, and Kamiki’s soul being noble in the past is mentioned, right?

So, he was a good person before?

Well, I guess I wasn’t totally off in reading his character? LOL.

Does that mean he could be a fallen god?(could be a stretch, but there IS a lyric in fatal about fallenness!!!)

Sarutahiko is often described as a "noble" and "just" god, so it’s quite possible that Kamiki’s true nature is based on Sarutahiko, the husband of Ame-no-Uzume = Ai.

That couple was very affectionate, and according to the Aratate Shrine description, they even go as far as blessing marital relationships. Those gods really love each other. In that case, Ai being so fond and loving of Hikaru also makes sense. It could explain why she asked her kids to save him...

So, can't “Fatal” be his song? Maybe he’s fallen from grace?

The lyrics in "Fatal" say things like, "What should I use to fill in what’s missing?" Could that be about human lives? But did he really kill people? How can you save someone after that? That’s why I don’t think he went that far.

"Without you, I cannot live anymore"

“I would sacrifice anything for you”

This isn’t Aqua. This is Kamiki.

Would Aqua do that much for Ai? He shouldn’t be so blind.

When I listened to "Fatal," I immediately thought of "Mephisto" because the two songs are so similar in context.

They’re sung by the same narrator, aren’t they? That made it clear what Kamiki’s purpose was, which is why I started drawing so much about him and Ai after that.

He keeps saying he’ll give up his life and that he wants to see Ai again. This isn’t Aqua! These feelings are different from what Aqua has.

At first, I thought because Ruby = Amaterasu, with Tsukuyomi having shown up, and Aqua perhaps having relations to Susanoo (he’s falling into the sea this time, right? LOL) I wondered if Ai and her boyfriend’s story was based on the major myth of Izanagi and Izanami, since they’re so well-known.

That myth is famous for how the husband tries to save his wife after she dies, though he fails in the end.

The storyline is similar to Mephisto’s, so I thought, "Could this be it?"

And then I realized Sarutahiko and Ame-no-Uzume's lores also fit really well. Ai thinking Kamiki was like a jewel when they first met is similar to how Ame-no-Uzume saw Sarutahiko shining when they first met. Sarutahiko guiding Ame-no-Uzume is similar to how Hikaru taught Ai how to act. They even had descendants that have a title that means "maiden who's good at dancing" The two also fell for each other at first sight. The shrine the characters visit in the story is supposedly where those two met and married. If they REALLY are those gods in essence, It feels like something went wrong with the wish because one or both of them became twisted.

Anyway, I think Kamiki was originally noble but fell from grace, and it’s likely that Ai’s death was the catalyst.

But I’m not sure if he really went as far as killing people.

What is Tsukuyomi even talking about? I’ve read it several times, and I still don’t fully understand.

I really hope she's wrong because… killing others to make Ai’s name carry more weight? That doesn’t make any sense. What does “the weight of her name” supposed to mean?? I don't think that's something that should be taken just at face value, I feel like there's more behind this idea.

What kind of logic is that? And on top of that, I can’t understand why Ai’s life would become more valuable if Kamiki dies. It just doesn’t follow.

Why would he even say that?

He must be really confident... Does he think he’s someone greater than Ai?

Even so, how does it connect?

I read two books today, because I started wondering if my reading comprehension has dropped. Thankfully, I’m still able to read books just fine. It’s not like I can’t read, you know? I’ve taken media literacy classes and pride myself on not having terrible reading comprehension.

I tried to make sense of what exactly the heck this may mean, and I think.. if it were to mean something like, “I’ll offer my life as a sacrifice to Ai,” I’d at least get that. That kind of logic, in a way, has some practical meaning.

Kamiki talked about sacrifices? tributes? offerings? in chapter 147. I really remember certain scenes clearly because I’ve gone over them carefully. In that case, if Kamiki dies, then the weight or value of his life would transfer to Ai, and that would “help” her, right?

If the story is going in that direction,

when I look at “Mephisto” and “Fatal,” I can see that by doing this, Kamiki would have a chance to either save Ai or get closer to her. At least that makes some sense.

But is it really right for Ai to ask someone to save Kamiki, who killed others? As soon as the idea of it came up, I knew something was up.

Because of what Ai's wanted, I think it’s possible that Kamiki didn’t actually go that far. In the songs, they talk about gathering light and offering something, but they don’t say anything about killing people… Kamiki said he’d sacrifice his own life. People around him may have died, but…

Kamiki’s true personality doesn’t seem like the type to do that… And looking at his actions when Aqua was stabbed??

He hasn’t shown any direct actions yet, so I still don’t know how far he’d actually go.

It’s not that I don’t believe Tsukuyomi’s words entirely,

but I don’t think the conclusion is going to be something like, “Ai should’ve never met Kamiki.”

Every time we see Kamiki’s actual actions, there’s this strange gentleness to him, and that’s what’s confusing me.

The more I look closely, the weirder it feels, and something about it just bothers me. If Kamiki were truly just a completely crazy villain, I’d think, “Oh, so that’s who he is,” and I wouldn’t deny it.

But each time, I start thinking that maybe Ai didn’t meet someone so strange after all? Ai liked him that much, so on that front, it makes sense to me. I want to believe that’s the right conclusion. I mean, doesn’t what he says sound kind? Isn’t he gentle?

No, but seriously, when Kamiki listened to Aqua’s reasons for wanting to live, I thought his expression was warm. It didn’t seem like some calculated expression like “according to plan” like Light Yagami. It felt more like a fond, affectionate expression. I draw too, you know. I pay a lot of attention to expressions. This character often makes expressions that really stand out.

It’s like he’s genuinely trying to convince Aqua not to do anything reckless. Maybe I’m being soft on Kamiki because he’s Ai’s boyfriend? But actually, it’s not like that?

I mean, I’m the type who’s like, “Anyone who did something bad to Ai should die!!” It’s because he’s a character. If this were a real person, I wouldn’t so casually tell someone to go die or say such strong things.

But… he seems like a good person.

+It’s a small thing, but why did Kamiki drop his phone while talking about Ruby? Ppft If you drop it from that height, it’d probably crack. Was he trying to look cool? (It’s an Apple phone, huh.) Is he a bit clumsy? Well... since it looks like him and Aqua are about to fall into the sea, maybe it was a blessing he did so. The phone might be saved after all. If he manages to climb out of there, he could contact someone with that phone.

[qumiiiquinnquin]

i feel like one of the worst people in the world right now. but at least my semester is over

[virtualbeetle]

mastermind's usual outfit when he's out being a public nuisance. he thinks he looks sooo cool wearing this but he is literally a 35 year old gay man

[planet4546b]

im having fun with rivulet i am SKITTERING. and such. also made it from start to moon AND then back up the wall to pebs in like 2 hours which is the fastest ive ever done it. considering my avg arc playtime is like 10-15 hours it felt incredibly smooth hard to say if thats me improving at the game or riv's moveset making it easier. but still

[mejomonster]

i think in my indulgent Demon immortal Fei Du au, I’m going to make him part fox spirit on his mom’s side. Just because priest made SO many references in Silent Reading to fox spirits being with humans, and to Tales from a Chinese Studio stories. It wouldn’t be right if my boy Fei Du wasn’t actually a sneaky fox too ToT

[msdk-00]

i really don't understand how one can have a close friendship where the other person doesn't open up or be vulnerable at all

[theramblingvoid]

Yes maybe I should be asleep right now but maybe instead I'm filled with rage and grief at the realization that even if I work hard at my transition and put money and research and so so much effort into it for years, change myself as much as I can, all I'll ever be able to achieve is to make people see me as transmasc or if I'm "lucky" as a man, there is nothing in my power to do to make people see me as a being outside of gender or the binary, I'll either be seen as a woman or a woman who's trying to be a man until the day I die because I was not born with the genetics to be naturally gender ambiguous and nobody else was born with the brain to see anything other than the binary, the only ways available to me to overcompensate for my body result in me being seen as male even by other queer people and I'm not I'm not I'm not only one thing or the other but I'll never be able to live the way I want to

[deaddriv-talks]

Konoha's name in braille

Japanese braille (tenji): このは あきのり

English braille: Konoha Akinori

Korean braille (jeomja): 코노하 아키노리

This is so random. I really need to increase my skill range. By the way, fun fact, Japanese braille has spaces unlike Japanese. And this is kana braille because kanji braille is way too complicated for me.

Unicode versions in case anyone's interested (warning, it looks a little misleading: dots on the right look like they're on the left):

このは あきのり ⠪⠎⠥ ⠁⠣⠎⠓

Konoha Akinori ⠠⠅⠕⠝⠕⠓⠁⠀⠠⠁⠅⠔⠕⠗⠊

코노하 아키노리 ⠋⠥⠉⠥⠚ ⠣⠋⠕⠉⠥⠂⠕

[yuseirra]

Kamiki(+Ai) Mini-analysis

I feel the best part of this work comes from the psychological aspects, it's intriguing how real and complex it can get. It's honestly what's drew me in this time around, and I really hope they revert back to exploring things in relation to it after some dire events get resolved somehow.

Today I wrote a small anaysis of Kamiki's character since he tends to be a bit confusing at first glance: I can be wrong, of course, but I'm confident with my analysis regarding the emotional aspect of things. I felt it would be nice to bring up!

Honestly, I don’t think Kamiki is such a difficult character to understand regarding his mentality. His self-esteem is severely low, so he internalizes all the negative criticism and accusations thrown at him without resistance, accepting them as they are. In fact, he adds to it by blaming himself even more. Sometimes, he even goes out of his way to act in ways that invite misunderstandings. Since he’s already trapped in a state of self-loathing, the fact that he doesn’t bother to make excuses is just an extension of that.

He has an incredibly low opinion of himself. That's because he was constantly mistreated and never been properly loved all his life till Ai came along. At the same time, it’s not like he dislikes people… Ai, on the other hand, seemed to have some defensive feelings toward others, maybe even a little distaste for people (which, in a way, can act as a shield to protect oneself). But Kamiki? When someone comes to him, he’s just happy to have a shred of affection and, like a puppy, he eagerly follows along, giving everything he has. He’s been starved for love. Him trusting people so eagerly and easily—that’s where it comes from. His trust in Ryosuke and Nino is also rooted in this. Kamiki seems to genuinely like people. When he receives kindness, it makes him purely happy… he wants to believe in their good intent and think 'oh, they like it, so it's fine, right? It's a good thing if others are happy' But again and again, he’s taken advantage of and abandoned. And, at some point, he realized—even though it seemed like people cared about him, this wasn’t right. They just used him up and it wasn't real affection that he'd received. The real problem is with those who used him. If they had been decent people, this wouldn’t have happened… But when these things happen, instead of blaming others, he always turns the arrow on himself. His already low self-esteem sinks even lower, and he blames himself and hates himself even more. Ai, on the other hand, had enough of a backbone to protect herself by holding onto some anger toward others. So, even though she couldn’t quite love herself, she could still carry some pride and confidence, enough to live life on her own terms. But Kamiki? When something goes wrong, he blames himself. He tries to rationalize these sorts of situations by believing that it’s because he’s not good enough, or because he’s unworthy, that everyone leaves him. That’s also one of the reason why he lacks aggression—he always sees the fault within himself. Look at the flower bouquet incident. He probably wasn’t at fault at all, but because he bought the flowers, he lied at first and said it was his doing. The fact that it was a lie implies that the rest of what he said was likely the unfiltered truth. If he were truly guilty, the story would have ended in chapter 154, but it didn’t—there was more to it after that.

I’ve mentioned before that you have to dig deeper to understand the real intent behind his words. In chapter 153, he said he killed Ai.

In chapter 154, he changed his story, saying he only manipulated Ryosuke to scare her, but he never intended to kill her.

Then, in chapter 160, the tone softens again—he says he really just wanted to give her the bouquet. And this is the real truth.

What’s happening here is that he hates himself so much that he piles more blame on himself, amplifying his responsibility for what happened. He feels like the person he loved died because of him, and that’s why he can’t forgive himself… But the more he talks about Ai, the more sincere he becomes, gradually revealing his true feelings.

When it comes to attachment styles, Ai had some avoidant tendencies,

While Kamiki shows a lot of traits typical of anxious attachment.

Yet despite this, the two of them clearly got along well. I keep coming back to this, and there’s hardly any room to argue otherwise. The fact that Ai could think so highly of him is honestly so remarkable…

For someone with avoidant tendencies to say, 'I want to live with this person forever,' that means the other person was truly perfect and lovable in their eyes. That’s an incredibly strong bond. I wish people would recognize this... believe in that idea for once, They really did find a huge liking to each other, and that family Ai imagined WAS really possible. They would have built a nice and happy one. It wasn't a messed-up relationship they had. They are tragic because they could have been perfect.

Even though both of them had their own struggles, they were good people at heart, and they surely could have supported each other to live well together. The real problems came from the outside.

I wrote this up as I attempted to draw a piece earlier(going to complete it and post it today!) these are sort of the things that pass through my head when I draw things sometimes

I need to understand the psychology of these characters to at least some degree in order to portray them, I may not be perfect with these, but I really try!

[loverboydotcom]

beau is such a trailblazer of an oc cause he's the first dallonwrites protagonist to have a good relationship with his family