#johan liebert headcanons

[callingitquits]

Sickfic Headcanons: You vs. Johan—[requested]

You know the ship trope: ‘What if one of them got sick and the other had to play nurse?’

A fan favorite for a reason. So naturally, we handed it to Johan.

Because nothing says ‘healthy relationship’ like being spoon-fed broth by a man who once talked a guy off a rooftop…. and not to save him.

Comforting, right?

Johan Handling You Sick:

(You are the one who falls ill more often)

Unspoken Concern

If it’s just a cold? He’s gone. There are always other places to be.

But if you’re truly ill—burning up, barely lucid, shivering even under three blankets, failing to keep water down—he just might stay.

He never says ‘I’m worried’.

But he stays overnight without being asked. Pretends to read. Sits near but not too close. Rests in the chair like he’s asleep—but he isn’t. Not really.

He’s watching.

All the while, he’s listening—to your breathing, your coughing, to every small shift in the sheets.

Cools Your Skin Methodically

He uses a damp cloth folded into perfect thirds and lays it gently across your forehead, like it’s a ceremonial act.

He checks the temperature of the water with his wrist first, every time.

Never too cold. Never too wet.

If you start sweating, he wipes your neck with the same quiet precision, eyes fixed on your face, watching for every twitch.

Monitors Your Medicine

Every label is read with quiet intensity, dosage double-checked like a calculation that can’t afford to slip.

He doesn’t need a clock—his mind is sharper than any ticking hand.

When he hands you the pills, there’s a moment—soft, almost gentle.

“Take this.”

No threat in his voice. Not yet. Just calm insistence.

And if you refuse?

That’s when it changes.

No chatter. No hesitation.

Just one deliberate word:

“Now.”

No room for argument. No margin for delay.

His eyes lock on you—unreadable—as you swallow, measuring your compliance in milliseconds.

Waiting. Always waiting.

You Go On a Fever Rant. He Tries to Respond Logically. Bad Move.

You start rambling halfway through a fever-soaked hour: antibiotic resistance, billionaires hoarding meds, or that time someone said you looked like Gollum in high school.

He listens, carefully. Nods once or twice.

Then, quiet but firm:

“You’re overthinking.”

You snap your head toward him.

“Oh, great. Dr. Freud himself over here.”

He blinks, unfazed.

“I’m not diagnosing you.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Oh please, analyze me more. Because what I really need right now is a TED talk from the walking encyclopedia.”

He sits across from you like he has all night—elegant, unruffled. One leg crossed over the other, hands resting lightly, as he waits you out.

Eventually, you groan.

“…Fine. Maybe I am spiraling. Happy now?”

“Your honesty is noted.”

Feeds You. By Hand, If He Must

You’re too sick to sit up straight.

You don’t even argue when he takes the bowl.

He doesn’t coo. Doesn’t coax.

Just holds the spoon up and waits.

No expression. No rush.

You groan, but take it.

Chew slowly. Swallow.

It tastes like nothing.

Your nose is blocked, ears ringing faintly.

“It’s not poison.” he says, voice level.

…Though the way he watches you afterward makes you wonder if he’s reassuring you—or reminding himself.

You Throw Up. He Doesn’t Flinch

You barely make it to the toilet. It hits hard—violent, sudden, ugly.

He’s in the doorway. Watching.

He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t ask if you’re okay.

Just stands there, expression blank, as your body folds forward.

Only when the worst of it passes does he move.

He crouches beside you. Wipes your mouth with a tissue.

You try to swat him away—too slow.

He stands. Washes his hands. Silent as ever.

Later, from the floor, you mutter, “So. I guess that kills whatever sexual tension we had left.”

He doesn’t look at you.

Instead, as he dries his hands—a faint smile, there and gone:

“You should drink something. You’re dehydrated.”

Then leaves the room.

You groan. Grab the nearest thing—a roll of toilet paper—and throw it at him.

Miss. Obviously.

Reads Aloud, Slowly

When you can’t think clearly, he reads to you—quietly, without flourish.

An old philosophy book. The newspaper in German. Sometimes even children’s stories in French.

His voice is low and rhythmic. He reads like you’re an audience of one.

It helps you sleep. He knows that.

And he always finishes the chapter, even if you drift off.

“You’re not listening anymore, are you?” he murmurs.

Then smiles to himself.

Good. You’re supposed to be resting.

And turns the page.

He Lies When You Need Him To

If you ask if you look terrible, he lies smoothly…. like it costs him nothing.

“You’ve looked worse,” he says.

“But never quite so charming.”

You glare at him, but it buys you a little strength. That’s the point.

You Let Him In

He doesn't say anything when you start running too hot, or when your breaths go thin.

But the blanket changes. The water's colder.

You don't even remember him leaving, but there are new pills by the bed.

He moves through your illness like it's a house no one else could live in.

You let him near. Let him touch.

Swallow the pills he brings. Sleep while he’s in the room.

It isn’t fear that startles him.

It’s this.

Your trust—so unguarded, so stupidly soft—unnerves him more than any threat ever has.

He Leaves Without Saying Goodbye

Once you’re past the worst, you always wake up alone.

He never says goodbye.

But there’s usually something left behind: his scarf draped over the back of a chair, your vitamins refilled—

a note you won’t find until hours later, slipped beneath the box of tissues on your nightstand.

You hate that you find that reassuring.

You Handling Johan Sick:

(Extremely rare, possibly once in your entire relationship. Johan is utterly unmoored)

The Logistics

If he doesn’t do his usual act—doesn’t vanish into some cryptic corner of Europe—you know something’s off-script.

He’s not here for soup and sympathy. God forbid.

Sentiment isn’t part of the equation.

He’s not here because he wants to be. That’s not how he works.

He’s here because this environment is sterile, quiet, predictable—

And you are, too.

The exits are known.

You ask nothing. Press nothing.

You toss a blanket over him like you’re covering a ticking time bomb.

Dim the lights. Keep the noise down.

Pretend this is normal.

Maybe the armor cracked.

Maybe you didn’t give him a choice.

Or maybe—for once—he’s just too tired to keep running.

He won’t say thank you. He never does.

But he doesn’t leave.

And that’s the closest thing to confession he’s ever given.

Initial Disbelief and Spiraling

At first, you think he’s faking.

A test. A trick. Some weird psychological game.

But then he shivers.

And doesn’t say anything when you touch his forehead.

“You don’t get sick,” you mutter. “What is this, some kind of performance art?”

He just blinks. Slow. Blank.

You narrow your eyes.

“Oh my god. You actually have a fever.”

You step back. Stare.

Then reach out again—fingers brushing just above his brow this time, hovering over the spot you know he hates.

He still doesn’t stop you.

Which somehow makes it worse.

Refuse to Leave When He’s at His Worst

He tells you to leave.

Doesn’t yell. Doesn’t have to.

You stay planted—arms crossed, jaw tight.

“No.”

He doesn’t turn toward you.

“You don’t want me to see you like this?” you scoff.

“Well, I already did. So that’s over.”

Then, quieter. Strained:

“You’ve seen me at mine. You didn’t leave. So don’t ask me to.”

Silence stretches. Long enough to sting.

His breath stutters—not dramatic, but enough that you hear it catch in his throat.

His hand tightens in the blanket. Not in anger. Just holding on.

Like he’s trying not to shake.

But he doesn’t say it again.

Which is as close as he gets to letting someone in.

Cool His Skin Without Touching Too Much

You’re tentative with his body.

Dab his forehead with a cloth, then his neck. His skin is clammy and oversensitive.

Work in slow, quiet movements. You feel you should apologize every time you brush too close.

“Sorry. I’m trying not to…”

He opens his eyes—barely. “You can.”

You freeze. Then keep going.

A little braver now.

You Adjust His Surroundings Like a Nurse. Not a Lover.

You move around him like a sleeping dog—aware of the teeth underneath the skin.

You dim the lights. Open a window an inch. Lay a folded towel beneath the glass to block the draft.

No talking. No fumbling. You don’t touch him unless you have to.

But the moment you think he’s sleeping?

You lean in closer than you ever have.

Just long enough to stare at the way the fever rounds him out.

Mouth slightly parted. Eyes fluttering.

Makes him look less like a loaded weapon, more like a man.

You back away before he stirs.

You Try to Take His Temperature and He Won’t Cooperate

He’s feverish but keeps his mouth shut when you try to use the thermometer.

“What are you, five?”

“Possibly contagious.”

“You’re gonna die just to prove a point, you stubborn bastard.”

Eventually you just shove it under his arm with a grumble.

He doesn’t resist. Just watches, faintly amused.

You Get Frustrated at How Quiet He Is

He doesn’t complain. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even breathe loud. Just the faint whistle in his nose now and then, or the occasional throat clear he never quite finishes.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

You stare at him from the chair, arms crossed.

“Say something,” you mutter. “Literally anything. Whine. Bitch. Tell me how horrible you feel. Be normal about this.”

Nothing.

“You already looked half-dead last week. This is just you doubling down.”

Your voice tries to land as dry. It doesn’t.

He hears the edge. The worry beneath the joke.

Doesn’t comment on it.

You Cook Something Plain, Then Bring It Without Comment

Nothing fancy.

Just rice in broth. Bland. Safe.

You don’t ask if he’s hungry—you know he won’t answer.

You set it on the nightstand and leave the room.

He doesn’t touch it right away.

But when you peek back in twenty minutes, the bowl’s been moved.

Half gone.

Spoon placed back inside, neat. A faint damp napkin beside it—used to blot at the nosebleed he won’t mention.

It’s the only way he says thank you.

Later, you take the empty bowl without a word.

That’s the deal.

‘Functional’

You come back with pills and water, the weight of quiet duty dragging your steps.

Medicine, to him, is just another stopgap in a long decay.

“Medicine,” he says, like it tastes foul. “A bandage. On a bullet wound.”

The phrase lingers.

Too specific to be careless.

Your eyes catch on him, flick—just briefly—toward his forehead.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t correct himself. Just lets the silence hang, daring you to draw meaning from it.

You don’t. Just shrug. “Yeah, yeah, I’m a real life-saver. But really, it’s about keeping you functional.”

He almost smirks—something faint, crooked. “Functional. A word that reduces us to machines. But machines, at least, continue.”

You hold out your hand, palm up. Steady. He reaches out, takes them without hesitation.

He never refuses what he can’t control. The pills slide in, cool against his tongue.

He swallows—deliberately. No gratitude. No disdain.

Just the twitch of an eyebrow. A silent truce. Calculated.

You sit back. Say nothing.

You Catch Him Out of Bed

You walk in and find him standing—barely upright—reaching for a book.

“Are you serious right now? You’re pushing 40 degrees—”

You glance at the cover. Camus.

“—and you’re trying to read The Plague?”

You scoff. “Little on-the-nose, don’t you think? Though I guess if anyone could relate…”

“He brings clarity in moments of crisis.”

“You’re going to bring me cardiac arrest.”

You make him lie back down. He doesn’t argue.

When He Says Something Too Honest

He’s still fevered. Pupils dilated slightly. Eyes rimmed red. You wonder if he’s sweating or crying.

You press a cold cloth to the side of his neck. He flinches, but doesn’t push you away.

Then, quiet—like he’s thinking out loud to someone long gone:

“Being cared for feels… fabricated.”

You pause.

His voice is hoarse, nearly inaudible:

“Like I’ve wandered into someone else’s memory.”

You blink at him.

“…What?”

No sarcasm. No sharp edge. Just confusion, soft and uncertain.

He doesn’t answer. Just turns his face slightly into the cloth.

Not to find comfort, but to vanish back into a time when care was a stranger’s mercy, not his own.

You Read to Him. But Feel Like a Fraud About It

You find the book half-slid from his hand.

He’s drifting—eyes half-lidded, lips chapped.

You pick it up. Hold it.

Of course it’s The Myth of Sisyphus.

Not a novel. Not even a magazine.

You sit in the chair across.

“I’m not doing the voice,” you mutter, flipping to where he left off.

“No dramatic French monologue. You’re getting me. That’s the deal.”

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t move.

The text is dry. Detached.

You don’t even agree with half of it.

You stumble. Backtrack. Don’t bother sounding smart.

Halfway through a paragraph, you notice he’s awake.

His breathing stays even, but his fingers twitch.

Lashes flicker once. Then still.

He’s listening.

Not to the book.

To you.

You Catch Him Rereading the Same Chapter

It’s days later.

He’s upright now. Hair combed. Fever gone.

You come in from the kitchen and see him at the table—book open, head tilted.

You know that page.

You read it aloud. Twice.

Laughed through one of the sentences.

He doesn’t look up. Just says, “You skipped a line here.”

Taps it.

“Changed the word order, too.”

You frown.

“I was tired. And it was a stupid sentence.”

He almost smiles.

You fold your arms.

“What, are you critiquing my reading now?”

He shakes his head. Just slightly.

Still not looking at you.

Still rereading your version, not the original.

“No.”

A beat.

“I liked yours better.”

And that’s it.

[riewritten]

how AU!johan deals with annoying neighbors who can't tend to their pets

[sam24seven]

There’s a certain kind of guy that everyone assumes is dominant—self-assured, always in control. But deep down, he craves to be ruined, held, and stripped of that control. He won’t let you, though. I’m telling you now, it will take years—maybe even decades—for him to trust you enough to show that side of himself. Sometimes, he’s not even aware of it himself.

But if he ever lets himself go near you, if he ever allows you to take a more dominant role, to care for him even for a fleeting moment—partly lowering his guard just long enough to feel it— he'll never enjoy anything as much as he will this. It will surprise him. He’s spent his life keeping himself from this, never realizing just how much he’d love it. But letting go, releasing everything bad and ugly and terrifying, being touched, being forced to do things he swore he’d never admit to wanting, being made to feel so blissfully helpless…

It will drive him mad. And he’ll hate himself for it afterward.

But men like him?

They're the most fun to dom and break.

Someone who presents himself as dominant, in control, but secretly yearns for the opposite—yet fights it with everything he has. That internal war, the push and pull between his need for surrender and his self-loathing, is what makes him so compelling. He likely has an aversion to intimacy, a self-destructive streak, and a tendency to wield charm and manipulation as a shield—not just against others, but against himself.

He doesn’t see sex as something more. Sometimes it’s for pleasure; sometimes, it’s a transaction, a means to an end. It will take time just to get him to the point where he can see intimacy as something beyond that. Because for him, it’s not just about the physical. It’s years of habits, experiences, and trauma, woven into the persona he presents even to himself. His shoulders might slump when he believes he’s alone, but his true self? That’s something he doesn't know how to bring out.

Characters: Dazai, Gojo, Silco, pts Eren, Shigaraki, Johan Liebert, Levi, Fyodor, Nikolai, chrollo, kurapika, Hawks, Itachi, Hanekawa, Akashi, Dabi, Light, Tsukkishima, Bakugo, Spike, Obanai, Kaneki, Kise, Zack foster, Akutagawa, Mattheo Riddle, Toji.

And anyone you'd like.

Requests are open

[lavandulawrites]

Hello 🧁

Yandere Johan liebert?

I don’t know if you meant a headcanon or not, but I wrote a headcanon anyway

He has you look over your shoulder every time you are alone. His presence is lingering and he is more like an all knowing entity than a human being. Your every action is a result of his omnipresence and you are constantly on your toes with your anticipation running through your veins.

Give me a character and I will give them a random headcanon.

[grayidiphy]

A short list of my favorite aro/acespec characters (headcanons or whatever):

Since this is the first year where I finally came to the conclusion that I am aroace, I decided to make this list with characters that i really hc as being part part of the community.

1- Natsume Takashi (Natsume Yuujinchou):

I love this anime, I love him, that's my son. Everyone should watch this anime.

2- Ford Pines (Gravity Falls):

A pain in the ass is what he is. He is very annoying, like all the people who work in the sciences (me included). But he also has a super toxic qpr with an eldritchian entity and I'm into that.

3- Johan Liebheart (Monster):

"He was the best guy arouuuund... What about the people he murdered?... WhaAaat murdaaaa?"

Yeah, he is evil. One of the best characters/antagonists ever. A master of manipulation. Not all aroace people can be good idc

I need to read Monster again.

4- Jessica Rabbit (Who censored Roger Rabbit?):

LOOOOVEEEEEE HER. Because most people think we should just dress modestly and act a certain way to be considered real.

5- Phos (Houseki no Kuni):

Technically speaking, the gems are aro/acespec, but well. I love Phos, his story is so sad, and that ending so gorgeous. One of my favorite animes and mangas.

6- Kusuriuri (Mononoke):

Another of my favorite animes, the movie was very good too. Kusuriuri is one of my favorite characters ever, he is so sassy and always gets the job done. Can't believe his movie version is even More cuntier.

7- Tsukishima Kei (Haikyuu):

Earlier this day I saw someone here mentioned him on another list, and OMG why did I've never notice? I apologize, my king, It makes perfect sense.

8- Shima Sousuke (Skip and loafer):

I know an aro king when I see one, I don't care what anyone says.

09- Anthy Himemiya (Utena):

Every interaction this thing gets is a FUCK YOU for Akio.

10- Lady Oscar (The Rose of Versailles):

That's my wife and husband, show some respect.

11- Arthur Lester (Malevolent):

LAST BUT NOT LEAST. That's my aro king. Love my men in toxic qpr with an eldritchian entity. Arthur my beloved.

I don't have a pic, but he is so very dear to me. Go listen to Malevolent, one of the best podcasts/audiodramas ever.

[ballisticbunni]

“Tomorrow Will Be A Better Day…”

Teenage Dieter Head-canons

(Featuring Other Mentioned Characters)

Dieter’s new found family are the first few people he hasn’t tried to run away from since his time spent with Hartmann, actually allowing himself to seek guidance, and direction from those like Doctor Tenma, Nina, Dr. Reichwein, etc. They make sure he’s able to properly continue his education after the Ruhenheim events, participate in sports, and make friends like he should at his age. Due to his upbringing, he remains humble—but that doesn’t mean he could escape the stereotypical “teenage boy experience” so easily.

His signature look is shirts with a striped design.

He’s often times rebellious, but that’s no surprise. Though, he is very stealthy when it comes to trespassing, and participating in graffiti.

Nina helps cut, and maintain his hair.

Despite everything, Nina continues to visit the Czech Republic, wanting to form a connection with the history she has with it, and the people she met along the way. Dieter accompanies her occasionally on these trips, and while doing so, he ended up running into other kids like Antonin, and Miloš (small World); they soon became the best of friends, and proceeded to hang out during various breaks, and holidays after that. The two also told Dieter stories about Grimmer, and the impact he left on them before he passed.

He chooses fire starters in every Pokémon game, always.

Took after Tenma, and picked up playing the guitar (naturally), but leans more towards electric than acoustic.

Likes to Ghost Hunt, and would definitely try to vlog it, too.

Just like everyone else, Dieter is still trying to adjust his life after the chaotic conflict caused by Johan’s actions throughout all those years. Though, because he was nearly groomed to be his successor, Dieter catches himself fixating on this “Monster” that would consume everything he’d thought he needed to become. Dieter never informed any one of these feelings, but he wonders if things were to turn out differently, what then?

Wanted to try experimenting with coloring/dyeing his hair, as well as getting piercings, but was told he has to wait until he was at least 18. (Attempted to pierce himself at some point with the help of Antonin and Miloš—but since it was hard to hide from people like Tenma, especially, and it would easily get infected—he removed them).

HATES the cops (for obvious reasons). But has met both Detective Suk, and Inspector Lunge on separate occasions, and deemed them an exception. Has personally been caught up to no good by Jan Suk, himself, also.

Has a pet rat (this is a given).

[denamelesshuman]

I see you ship Tenjoh :) Do you have any hc for them? I would like to see <3

Ah, I wanted to post this last week but I suddenly get so down and tired and just feel so unappreciated overall that I just wanted to shut down all my SNS, so this took longer than intended. Thankfully Johan and Tenjoh keep me goin'.

Disclaimer: Ideas here are mine alone, some I've posted on my twt before. Just please don't feed this into genAI or any AI to make genAI fics. That's all I'm asking as a creator. And knowing if you like them through likes, rb, or comments always make me happy and appreciate it.

CW: There'll be angst, fluff but also R18 thingy. Strap on bcs this shit gonna be long~

1. Johan escaped from the hospital to follow Tenma home. This hc isn't new per se in this fandom, but the second I finished watching the anime that's all I could think of. Then reading the manga, which offered different paneling than the anime, only convinced me more, bcs just look at this panel

In the middle panel, Johan probs already awoke, and he could see clearly from his window where Tenma walked. This paneling is totally different than the scene in the anime but looked like the continuation of the walking in the corridor. Which meant in the manga, the view came back to Johan again and Tenma in 1 panel. That is a crumb I cannot ignore.

Now we get to the realm of HC. I want to develop this one into fics one day, if I ever get back to writing again.

2. Johan followed Tenma home, but Tenma didn't go straight home, he went to Reichwein's place first, to meet him, Dieter, and Nina, his newfound family. Johan couldn't just go that far with his hospital gown and the coat he stole from the nurse station, so he had to go straight to Tenma's. Using his usual phantom-esque ability and lock-picking skill he observed from Junkers back then, it was a simple task. He waited there till Tenma came home.

Tenma didn't buy a cell phone for a reason, he didn't wanna be bothered other than being paged for emergency thru his pager, so when he got home, his landline rang off the hook, while the hospital staff on the phone was on panic telling him that Johan was missing, only for Tenma to suddenly notice at the same time the shadow lurking at the corner of the room. He knew instantly it was Johan. He told the hospital staff not to alert everyone yet and lied thru his teeth that he'd look for Johan bcs he couldn't be far, anything for them not to report to the higher authorities yet. He hang up the phone, and slowly tried to approach Johan, asking some questions softly just to gauge the situation, whether the boy was armed. He knew Johan would nvr try to hurt him, but the same thing couldn't be said abt him trying to harm himself. Johan's body was soaked thru from the rain, and he barely responded anything to Tenma's questions. He suddenly looked so small, thin, and fragile.

Tenma followed the dripping water from his bangs, to his soaked long coat and hospital gown. His feet only cladded with thin hospital slippers, completely soiled with mud and dirt, proof that he was walking alone all the way from the hospital to his place, probs through a lot of detours to avoid public and crowded streets to remain invisible. Tenma had no idea how the young man even knew his place. Tenma had only rented the apartment in Munich recently bcs he needed a place for himself to come home to whenever he's in the country, also deliberately chose a place closer to the state hospital Johan was in just in case he was notified of an emergency relating to Johan's conditions since he had yet to be conscious. Yet he nvr told the authorities abt it, only Reichwein, Dieter, and Nina knew abt his address. The address listed to his ID was still his old place at Düsseldorf. But it was no use asking Johan now. What was more important now was to dry him and make him warm. Johan was still in recovery, dammit he was still unconscious that morning. Though now it cleared Tenma's suspicions, that Johan was just choosing to sleep, making himself dead to the world around him, but listening to everything he'd said earlier. Tenma's earlier eerie imagination, abt Johan waking up and telling him another secret of his from his perspective, fed by his conversation with Viera prior, turned out wasn't so off-the-line after all. Johan had heard everything he said whenever he came to visit.

"I'm sorry about your carpet, Doctor," Johan rasped, the first thing he said, finally. He looked down at the puddle of dirty water and mud soaking into Tenma's obviously new carpet.

"How did yo- Never mind that, let's-" Tenma trailed off, there was too many questions running in his head atm, but at least he could tell Johan was unarmed, and that he came alone. The longer he dawdled, Johan could catch a cold. And for someone in his conditions, it could easily turn to pneumonia. He looked like he was a second away from fainting, as if a sway of breeze from the ajar window could topple him over.

Tenma promptly ran to bathroom, taking towels and bathrobe with him and back to his living room. Johan didn't move a single muscle.

"Let's dry yourself first, Johan...come here...or may I- may I come there...?" Tenma stiffly gestured to the distance between them.

Johan didn't say anything. He just stared at him. A moment of silence passed, until Johan seemingly, about to take a wobbly step...

Tenma's body moved before he could even realize it...and with good reflex, caught the young man just when he finally fell over. Tenma didn't waste any time, swadling him with towels, and saw Johan scrunched his eyes, as if he was in a lot of pain. Just following his instincts, he picked Johan up. And that was when he finally realized there was something really wrong with Johan's body.

He was light...too light for a man of his build and stature. He knew Johan was always slim and then malnourished due to being unconscious, but this weight... it was just completely wrong.

Tenma brought him to the bathroom in his arms, while Johan looked as if he was fleeting in between consciousness...

Alright I'll stop here before it gets too long. Suffice to say, Tenma took care of him in the bathroom, dried him and cleaned him with warm water, all the while trying to talk to the boy, coaxed him to tell what happened. He didn't get anything out of Johan's mouth until the boy finally broke down in front of him in Tenma's embrace. And Tenma welcomed it, accompanying him through it. All his questions could be answered later. Right now, his priority was to make sure of his former patient's recovery. Looking at Johan's bare body in the bathtub, clearly there were some things worth notifying that caused the alarms in Tenma's head go off. He needed to approach this carefully and thought things through.

After everything was cleaned and dried, he brought Johan to his bed. The young man had cried himself to sleep earlier. His limbs were icy cold still and he was still shivering despite the warm comforter covering his body, a telltale sign of a fever coming.

While watching Johan sleep, he mulled it over. He notified the hospital, making sure the same staff who called him earlier kept his promise not to alert everyone yet, told them Johan was in his place, and he'd bring him back to the hospital first thing in the morning, trying to placate the situations as best as he could, before it caused unnecessary uproar. He needed to make some calls to some people. Because he couldn't help but be suspicious.

Suspicious that now, Johan might be the one in danger this time.

Over several days later, while trying to nurse Johan to break his fever, he did a lot of thinking himself too.

Just at that time, an unexpected phone call came to him. From somewhere he didn't think he would get anytime soon. And brought him a more unexpected news. It was a bad news, but it also helped offer him a solution with his current situation with Johan. He immediately made a few notifications to his boss and heaquarters and adjustments on his next placement for MSF.

He would bring Johan to where he'd go next. It was his responsibility. Johan was his responsibility until he got to the end of it. If Johan was to face his future trials, he should be in full recovery first.

There were a lot of things he needed to do, and many of them were bound to be illegal, smuggling a convicted serial killer out of the country where Germany's jurisdictions couldn't touch him would be no easy feat. He got into contacts with Lunge, Verdeman, and Heckel. And again, asked Heckel to do some research for him. He spilled everything to Lunge and Verdeman, he needed laws expertise on this and to lay out his suspicions to those he could trust.

Long talk long talk, after much debate and arguments thrown over, to the point of a verbal fight with Verdeman, and Lunge had to come in between, Tenma finally convinced the two to help him. But not without promising them two that he would talked to Gillen and Reichwein first. Because they both were still worried that Tenma might've been manipulated by Johan, a fact he vehemently denied. Yet he didn't let them see Johan, for a reason.

He started making preparations meanwhile trying to keep communicating with Johan. Slowly but surely, there was some progress between them.

And the biggest elephant in the room was to tell his plan to Johan himself.

And if Johan would be taken away, then Nina had all the right to know first.

Unexpectedly Johan agreed. So before they departed, Tenma would need to tie all the loose ends on his side and Johan's side with everyone.

He didn't talk to Gillen, his friend was in the middle of writing a book about Johan's case and Johan himself, and it'd be better if both of them were kept in the dark abt everything, at least until his book was published.

He talked to his teacher instead, Reichwein, with much difficulty, seeing as Reichwein was still deeply hurt abt Richard. A heartbreak that had no closure even after Johan's capture. And now, he was abt to break the news and bring Johan to his doorstep, no less.

But Reichwein was indeed his teacher. And a top-notch psychologist at that. He had wisdom that came with age, something Tenma still needed to learn.

He watched from the side as the twins finally reconciled properly.

He himself had a long talk with Nina, about his concerns, what was gonna happen from here onwards, their future (including Nina), when Johan was asleep in another room. He slept a lot, still in recovery.

A talk with Dieter was also difficult, the boy clung to him and cried, breaking Tenma's heart once again. But it was no different then when he told him the first time that he would be frequently out of the country for the MSF. Inside, Dieter had matured much more quickly than children his age, his tough backgrounds made him a brave, resilient, and shrewd kid he was today. He had school, and Reichwein and Nina would be in charge together for him. A promise to spend all his next summer holiday where Tenma would be later on. It was funny but also endearing to see him cautiously approach Johan on his own vollition. But the kid realized, if he was to spend his summer in the country where Tenma would be staying for a while now, then he would also have to familiarize himself with Johan.

Johan too, wasn't cold with him. He acknowledged and welcomed the boy, for the lack of better word. And slowly warmed up to him as well. Facade or not, Johan had always had a way with children, easily. Turned out, Dieter wasn't an exception either, despite everything Dieter knew about the young man. After all, they both came from similar backgrounds.

And the young man knew how much Dieter meant for his sister and Tenma.

One day, Karl called Tenma. He knew Johan was staying with him. He conveyed his desire to talk to Johan, but still unable to bring himself face to face. Tenma suggested a letter where he could pour all his thoughts and feelings at his own pace. When the letter arrived, he left Johan alone in his bedroom to read it. And when he came back, Johan was asleep, or...making himself looked as if he was asleep, to avoid any further questioning. The letter held tightly to his chest, peeking from the cover blanketing him.

Tenma noticed the red puffy eyes and tear tracks on Johan's cheeks. Dried, yet still shone under the afternoon sunlight from the window.

A few days before their departure, at the crack of dawn when the streets were still empty, Tenma brought Johan to visit Richard and Grimmer's graveyards. To pay regards.

Later on Tenma revealed to Johan that back then, Grimmer had talked to him a lot, trying to give him perspectives about Johan, that helped him understand how Kinderheim might have affected Johan, as a kid, in ways deeper than what Johan himself acknowledged or chose not to confront it.

Johan only listened, but chose not to comment. Grimmer's death was never on any of Johan's plans. He was never on Johan's plans bcs otherwise Johan wouldn't have saved him from being beaten to death.

Despite the conflict of interest between them, that much Tenma already knew.

An unexpected visit came to Tenma a day before their departure. And it came in the form of Detective Jan Suk, all the way from Prague. The man looked very troubled, but sincere as always.

He revealed everything in detail to Tenma about his encounters with a certain 'Anna Liebert' back during the case.

Tenma realized, after their conversation, that he had a very mixed feelings about it all. Something he didn't know and wanted to acknowledge atm.

(What I'm trying to do here is I want Tenma to help all the people Johan had burdened in the past to have some sort of closure with him and for Johan to reach out some sort of olive branch to them).

Nina came to the airport, all the way from Heidelberg to send his brother off.

They conveyed their parting words one more time, in each other's embrace and in emotional tears. With a promise to each other, that from now on, they'll both try to finally live and start anew, looking and embracing any happiness they could have along the way. And also a promise to keep contacting each other, from now on.

A promise to start reconnecting their emotional bond as twins, once again.

Tenma brought Johan to live with him in Japan.

A country in the other side of the world from Europe, where Johan's past connections with the underworld and other powerful affiliates might not reach him. In a country where at the time, most of the citizens where still wary about foreigners. In a country where the culture and language were vastly different and completely unfamiliar to Johan, that like it or not, he would need to learn everything from scratch again.

In this situation, Tenma hoped Johan could shed any darkness behind him, and focus himself on what was ahead of him, his new surroundings, and his future, to heal...

To reborn...to consider himself as human from the very beginning this time.

Tenma attended several family businesses to take care of as well as his placement in the MSF branch in Japan. And Johan was always under his watch. A deal he had struck with a few authorities he could trust back in Germany about this arrangement he had with Johan in order to keep everything safe and not blown out of proportion to create ruckus, with a huge chunk of help from Verdeman and Lunge.

In this place, away from everything and everyone else. They both relied in each other's presence and finally, properly getting to know each other better, began facing and sorting out the tangled feelings and emotions they had known had always been there between them.

To try and heal the injuries they both had inflicted to each other, knowingly and unknowingly, and saw where it brought them later.

(I leave it here bcs this was too long already. Just know that in my head, i think tenjoh worked the best in slow burn bcs they had too much baggage between them they need to work out first, and especially Johan with himself).

3. Yokohama suburb, late 1999.

During their temporary living arrangements, Johan was always in regular contact with Nina. Tenma with Dieter and Reichwein. With his teacher, Tenma poured every conflicted feelings he had abt Johan. Reichwein's words were his anchor to keep him grounded in reality, to keep him level-headed, not to lose himself to the emotions the close proximity with Johan had made his brain thought. He needed it, if he had to be the closest to the Johan Liebert.

Reichwein only said to him to embrace the feelings and follow his heart and instinct, like Tenma had always done, because fighting it would be futile, would make a nonexistent problem became a real problem, would only hurt himself and both of them in the long run.

Tenma asked him (and more to himself) whether this, all that he had done for Johan, was it for everyone's safety and goodness, for Johan's recovery, or was it for himself. Whether this was all still a professional act on his part as Johan's former doctor or had he let his personal entanglements with Johan be the driving force.

To which Reichwein only answered calmly, that only Tenma himself could answer that, but from an outsider's perpectives, whatever happened between Tenma and Johan afterwards, it had stopped being a professional relationship the moment Tenma had finished his surgery and Johan was transferred to the police state hospital.

It was the same thing that Verdeman and Lunge had told him before. Back then, Tenma just chose to dismiss it. Now he couldn't run away again from the fact.

That night he lost sleep completely, opting to just stare at the back of Johan's head sleeping next to him on his futon, carefully watching the slow rise and fall of his slender back. Finally realizing that he could no longer pretend about the feelings he had for the younger man.

4. It is said that to get to know each other better and deeper, is to be in a situation where both parties were unfamiliar with.

So Tenma asked Nina whether she had any inkling to what kind of place or activity that Johan might have never done before. If he ever told her things like that.

"He wasn't very open about it so I don't really know. But if you wanna do something like that, do things that will look like it won't fit you two's image or will look outrageous on you two."

"I don't want to do anything ridiculous or make him uncomfortable," Tenma answered promptly.

"Not that! Just something simple, like going to the club," Nina's voice from across the line sounded cheery.

"...club?"

"Yeah! Dance club where youngsters go. Tenma, you look fit right in at quaint cafes and secluded bars, and so is him, right? So clubs will be something new. And while you two there, you guys need to dance with each other. Even if you guys are too embarrassed to dance to each other, the lively atmosphere there where everyone was rocking their bodies, won't make it awkward, you just need to let loose and get on the feels!"

"I definitely do not belong there. Maybe him, but I'm definitely too old to be in dance clubs."

"Nobody there's gonna care about that! Just wear a proper outfits, nothing too formal or flashy, but not too slobby as well. And just fyi, back when we were little at the 3 frogs, I remember we both like to dance whenever we heard songs in the radio and mother was cooking in the kitchen. Just random dance and moving our bodies along with the rythm, and we always giggled to each other after that bcs it made us really happy. It was a moment where we both could really feel ourselves to be free. Do it, Tenma! Bring my big brother there, and let him remember that feelings once again."

Now how could Tenma say no after listening to that kind of story??

Suffice to say, through his connection with an old friend in Tokyo, somehow they ended up in an exclusive club at Ni-chome in Shinjuku. He should've probably thought twice before agreeing to bring Johan to a gay club, exclusive or not. But his request was some place that wouldn't be too crowded and everyone minding their own business and certainly not those places where a foreigner would look too eye-catchy, especially since Johan was bound to make heads turned to him wherever he walked, being a foreigner or not. And this club his old acquaintance owned filled some of the criteria. For one, the place was not too crowded indeed and there were many other foreigners there as well so Johan didn't stand up too much like a sore thumb. And other than the fact that all of them there were guys, they all just had fun and mingled with their own partners or little groups and just over all minded their own business.

The dancefloor had become livelier the later the night and more people came and the DJ had hyped things up more with his chosen songs and arrangements.

Tenma had no clue of any of those music, though, despite some of them were western songs that he had vaguely heard back in Europe.

Tenma and Johan just sat on the bar, comfortable in each other's quiet presence, missing out songs after songs, looking into the dancefloor where more and more people and couples join, intertwining their bodies close to each other or jumping at place. The music constantly changed, from upbeat to slow, pop to electric, alternative rock, even jazz, and both of them still sat where they were from the beginning. Tenma's fists balled tightly on his lap, feeling more like a failure in each turning of song. Feeling guilty on top of that bcs this was all his own idea and he had wanted for the both of them to enjoy their date. He couldn't help but imagine the look of pity from Nina inside his head.

Johan, on the other hand, clearly didn't seem too bothered by the lack of activity on his side. He looked content. His angelic face and pale-skin glowed under the colorful illumination from the lights above him, and his lips tilted up slightly at the corner, just watching every one else but them dancing before his eyes.

Tenma had the sudden urge to just drag the younger to the dancefloor and kiss that small smile in front of everyone, yet he cowered again. Whether Johan had noticed his indecisiveness or not he didn't know. The fact remained that all of the clubbers there looked around Johan's age, which meant they were all attractive youngsters half of Tenma's age and it didn't do a thing to his shrinking confidence. He kept in mind to never listen to Nina's weird suggestion again. Besides, now that he thought abt it clearly, Nina was talking abt Johan from around 2 decades ago, who danced to a children song! Not to a popular music in a gay club...People grew up and who knew if this Johan still liked to dance or not.

He should've just stuck to his comfort zones befitting his age bcs so far Johan had nvr complained about it.

Couldn't handle the awkwardness he brought upon himself, he excused himself to the restroom.

When he came back out, the music had changed to something slower, but still with quite a fast beat to it. And Johan wasn't where he left him.

He looked around in panic till he noticed a sudden cheerful crowd from the dance floor and caught on the sight of a newcomer there.

He didn't exactly situate himself in the spotlight, instead Johan was more in the corner of the room. Yet the way he closed his eyes, seemingly completely oblivious of his surrounding and just losing himself to the music. His body moved to the rythm, the way his head and shoulders swayed slowly, his arms lifted up and down flowingly, the curve of his hips following the steps. His whole body painted by the strobe lights like a work of colorful art in a canvas. His whole figure swayed smoothly, lainguidly yet sensually, without a care of the amount of stares now transfixed on him.

Johan was always otherwordly beautiful, even for Tenma back when he was still chasing him as an enemy.

But this one in front of him, was utterly, devastatingly mesmerizing.

To the point that it suffocated him, rendering his fists subconsciously curled on themselves.

There was something in his carefreeness he showed at the moment that was gripping on Tenma, absolutely enthralling yet so humane at the same time. It was liberating.

It was like a Johan that Tenma had never seen before...No, it was Johan, his Johan, just the side of him Tenma had never known before. And it made him think just how many more shades of him Tenma would keep unveiling one after another.

He didn't even realize he was literally drooling at the sight he witnessed, until the bartender beside him awkwardly cleared his throat and pointed to the corner of his lips, while obviously tried hard to restrain his chuckles.

Tenma wanted nothing but to bury himself in the corner to never be seen again.

If only the bartender didn's say smth that caught him on alert immediately.

"You got some very good catch there, Mister, but if you keep letting him there alone any longer, someone else might snatch him away, y'know."

And it was just then that Tenma belatedly noticing that Johan was already surrounded by many other men, trying to get close to him on the dancefloor, while the object of attraction still completely absorbed in his dance. One of the foreigners was even bold enough to approach Johan from behind and touched his waist, ready to invite himself to be his dance partner...

...and Tenma saw red.

He didn't know what suddenly got into him but he finally strode to the dancefloor, slapped that stranger's hand away from Johan's hips and drew the younger to his arms. Only then Johan opened his eyes and looked disoriented for a bit, before finally, seemingly recognizing him then clinging his whole body to him and keep swaying to the rythm against Tenma's body. Rocking him on the sides, up and down with the way the younger slowly danced.

Tenma let the younger enjoyed himself more. He didn't know how to dance to this kind of song so he could only hug Johan back. One hand on the small of his back, the other placed carefully on the younger's hip. He didn't grip too hard, just enough to give others the message that he was the one coming there with Johan. A show of possesion. And with Johan plastering himself to him completely had effectively swatted away any unwanted attention drawn to the blonde.

Though the effect the rubbing from Johan's rocking body was making him more and more in agony.

After the song finished, Tenma immediately dragged the blonde man to the bar, paid for their drinks, got their coats on, and fled from there.

Johan intertwined their hands together, put his head on Tenma's shoulder and breathed on his neck the long time they took on the taxi back to Yokohama. The booze must have got into Tenma's head bcs his pants were growing tighter with each breath Johan blew on him. The vivid images of the sensual dance Johan did earlier felt like a video being played on loop in front of his eyes and he was achingly hard by the time they both got off the taxi.

He was aware of this. He knew that Johan was aware of this all, that was why he kept the proximity to him.

By the time he locked the door to their apartment, Tenma cornered Johan to the wall and kissed him hard, devoured his mouth and slid his tongue to the wet, hot cavern and tasted his every corner. He slid his hands down and grabbed Johan's hips to his groin, just like how the younger did earlier on the dance floor, and let Johan felt how hard he had caused him.

He fucked Johan all the way for the first time that night and only stopped just right at the crack of dawn when they had exhausted themselves to the bone.

5. While starting their new life together, I want Tenma to bring Johan to childhood things that he had never experienced before, like going to theme parks, picnics at the park, swimming in the beach, going hiking, ice-skating, eating greasy streed food. Tenma also taught him how to cook and some easy Japanese to get by in daily lives. Bcs Johan was older now and had 2 severe head injuries, he couldn't learn language as fast as when he was little. So he was met with some difficulties and Tenma could see how it dampened Johan a little though he tried not to show it. On the other side, these little setbacks and the way Johan was upset, made him much more humane on Tenma's view and he couldn't deny that he looked even more endearing to see he could finally act more like his age, and even showed a little childishness he might have never been able to show as a little kid. I want them to learn about each other's likes and dislikes, not thru questions but through observing each other closely.

6. Tenma's place wasn't his parents' home but a humble japanese-style home he rented in a smaller town just right next to Yokohama's suburb with a good nature view and huge backyard where Johan and Tenma grew their flowers, veggies and herbs. The aim was so Johan had other productive things to do when waiting for him to come home from work. They also adopted a cat which latched on to Johan in no time and was almost inseparable from him. All were things Johan and him had never done before.

7. Johan communicated with Anna through emails on a daily basis and international calls every weekend. Tenma had to work harder to cover for those phone bills 🤣.

8. Dieter spent a month in the next summer there and it was evidence that he grew attached to Johan just as Johan grew attached to him, as if Dieter was his salvation of his lost innocence in childhood and now Johan wanted to see of what his old self could've been thru Dieter's eyes.

9. After Gillen's book about Johan was released and became a best-seller in Europe in 2001, and touring the world for it, received Weber's interview, after Gillen got back to the office and resumed his work as psychiatrist, Tenma told him everything, including his relationship with Johan. He apologized profusely for keeping him in the dark, but there was smth evil still lurking in Europe and his suspicions that Johan might have been in danger if Tenma left him alone. Gillen was completely shocked but finally agreed to be Johan's therapist.

10. Alternate Universe where they stayed in Munich:

Nina and Eva having girls night out on xmas night, and wanted to surprise Tenma with gifts in his flat, only to walk in on Tenma and Johan fvcking on the couch in the living room, Johan riding Tenma roughly, in a sexy female elf costume, the flimsy green skirt riding up his smooth white thighs, while Tenma was in Santa outfit, with hat, fake beard and all, his chest and abs unbutton and bare. Johan's shoulders, chest, and back were also bare. His shirt being yanked down and displayed the range of colorful love bites on his chest, nipples, collarbone, and neck. Johan's skirt was the only thing covering Tenma's c0ck from the girls' plain vulgar view from the doorframe while it pistoned in and out inside him, but still NO hiding the wet squelches sound of where the two men's bodies connected, the creaky sound of the sofa, their faces flushed and wanton, Tenma's heavy grunts and Johan's...needy, high-pitched moan and FFS Nina nvr even knew her big brother could sound like THAT! Her face burnt so bad on his behalf.

It was clear from the guys' specified costumes that they'd planned for this for a long time. Was that why Tenma refused their invitations for xmas dinner?? And Johan was out of reach since xmas eve.

All it took was the drop of Eva's bag for them to finally notice their presences, when both the guys looked at the door frame. Nina was utterly shocked but still the look on his big brother when their gazes met was on another level. When it morphed into realization of what was going on, Nina had nvr seen Johan w/ that expression before. No, she never thought he was even capable of showing mortal fear and absolute embarrassment on his face. It was also the the first time she heard Tenma cursed so loud when he pushed both of their bodies off the couch and to the floor, and effectively covering Johan's almost topless form from the door view.

It took every ounce of strength from Nina to drag the hysterical Eva out of the flat and close the door shut with a loud bang.

To buy more time for the guys to tidy themselves up and for herself to gather her wits and process what the fvck was going on between Tenma and his big brother and how long had this been going on without any of them noticing.

P.S that's all for now. I actually have a lot and I yap more about Tenjoh in my twt since I have more audience there lmao. So head there if you're interested.

[callingitquits]

Johan Relationship Headcanons (Basic Outline)

Hey. First post. Hope you enjoy

Touch is Rare, but Loaded

Johan doesn’t initiate touch often. When he does, it’s purposeful. Either unsettling, comforting in a disorienting way, or startlingly gentle. A hand on the back of the neck, a brushing of fingers, lingering eye contact while staying just out of reach. His restraint is part of the seduction.

Emotional Distance

Johan operates from behind a veil. Even in a relationship, he keeps his core self guarded. He shares thoughts and feelings selectively, often as a way to provoke or test, rather than to bond. Vulnerability is not something he offers freely. If he does, it’s deliberate and loaded.

He Watches You Sleep

Not in a romantic sense…in a knowing one. He watches because it’s when you’re most defenseless, most yourself. Not to protect. Not to admire. Just to understand. There’s always a method behind the stillness in him.

Devotion in Obsession

If Johan becomes attached, it’s not in halves. It’s in totality. His version of ‘love’ is consuming, but not loud. He fixates, learns everything, observes always. He won’t say it. He might not even call it love. But he sees the other person as uniquely his, even if the world burns.

Jealousy is Subtle but Dangerous

Johan won’t make a scene. He won’t say he’s jealous. But you’ll notice the tension. The small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. The shift in tone. The sudden interest in the person who was too close to you. If he feels threatened, the consequences are quiet but permanent.

Almost Domesticity

He makes tea with precision. Folds your blankets when you’re not looking. Puts your favorite song on quietly before you wake up. There’s an eerie calm to the way he does small things for you.

He Remembers Everything

Even things you said once, in passing. Even the way your face looked when you said it. He remembers and reintroduces them like gifts: your favorite flower on the table, your birthday you never talk about, your offhand wish quietly granted.

He Likes to Be Understood But Not Too Much

Johan longs to be seen, in some twisted way. But if you see too much—if you get too close to the monster in him…he’ll either pull away or challenge you, to see if you’ll still stay. He’s always testing thresholds.

Love Is Not a Cure

Even if Johan loves someone…he is still who he is. He doesn’t soften easily. He doesn’t become safe. The relationship will always exist under a certain tension, a constant questioning: Is this real? Am I real? He can love deeply, but that love will never be innocent.

He Loves in Secrets and Silences

He won’t say it. Probably never will. But he’ll sit beside you after you cry and hand you a glass of water. He’ll reread your favorite book just to understand you better. He’ll keep the note you left him in his coat pocket until it fades. His love is a ghost in the room.

Protective Without Announcement

He’ll never say “I’m here for you.” He’ll just be there. When something scares you, he’s already standing between you and it. You won’t know how he knew, just that he did. He’s not loud about his protectiveness, but it’s absolute.

He Touches You Like You’re Breakable

Every touch is slow, thoughtful, like you’re something he was told never to touch, but can’t help himself. Fingers on your jaw, brushing your hair back, resting a hand against your back when you tremble. He touches rarely, but when he does, it’s reverent.

His Version of “I Love You”

He won’t say it. But it’ll come out in ways like:

“You’re shaking.”

“Don’t go off wandering again.”

“Will you still be here in the morning?”

Johan shows love through concern disguised as observation, in questions laced with fear he won’t admit.

Love Feels Like a Threat to Him

The closer you get, the more unstable he becomes. You become the one variable he can’t control. It terrifies him, even if he never says it. He’ll try to push you away just to see if you’ll go. And if you do…he’ll feel it like a knife.

There Are Things He’ll Never Tell You

No matter how close you get, there will always be locked doors. Secrets he keeps not to protect you, but to protect control. You might beg to understand him. He might smile, even touch your face, and say, “Some things are better left unsaid.”

He Lies to You, But Never Directly

He doesn’t say “I didn’t do that.” He says “Why would I?” Or “That’s not what matters right now.” He misdirects. Omits. Gives partial truths, especially about his past, about where he goes, what he’s done. And you know—deep down—but he’s so calm, so convincing, you stop pushing.

He Controls Through ‘Kindness’

He never tells you not to do something. He simply suggests you avoid certain people. He helps you rearrange your routine. He gives you soft reasons: “You don’t seem yourself after seeing them” Until your world orbits only around him. It looks like love. It’s really a cage.

He Pushes Until You Break, Just to See

Sometimes, he wants to know how far he can go. He’ll say something cruel: “Maybe you’re not as different from them as you think” and watch you crumble. And afterward? He’ll comfort you like he didn’t cause it. Stroking your hair, whispering, “It’s alright, I’m still here.”

He Prepares for the End Constantly

Even on your best days, Johan is quietly preparing for the end. He memorizes your face, the sound of your breath, the pattern of your routines. Not because he’s sentimental, but because he’s already saying goodbye in his head. Love, to him, is always temporary. Always doomed.

He Dreams of Losing You. Then Tries to Make It Happen

Sometimes he dreams of you leaving. Dying. Forgetting him. And then he tests it in reality. He’ll withdraw. Say something cruel. Push just a little too far, just to see if you’ll go. And when you don’t? He’s relieved. And quietly disgusted with himself.

He Knows You’re Better Off Without Him

He knows wholeheartedly that he’s a danger to you. And yet he stays. He stays because you make him feel, and he’s selfish enough to want that. Even knowing he could be your undoing. It eats at him.

He Thinks He’ll Break You. Slowly, Quietly, and Permanently

He’s always watching for cracks in you. Not to exploit them, but to confirm what he already believes: that being near him hurts you. And yet he doesn’t leave. He just watches the slow unraveling and wonders if he’ll recognize you when it’s done.

He Thinks the Most Loving Thing He Can Do For You Is Leave

One day, he may just walk away. Not because he stopped loving you. Far from it. But because he thinks it’s the only way to protect you from himself. It won’t be dramatic. No goodbyes. Just silence, and absence, and a hole shaped like his name.

He Can’t Handle Being Forgiven

Apologies aren’t in his nature, but if you offer him grace—if you say, “It’s okay,” you’ll see something flicker in him. Not gratitude. Not peace. Shame. A deep, almost childlike confusion. He doesn’t know what to do with being accepted.

[riewritten]

subjecting you (my dearest reader) to unimaginable horrors by having The johan liebert do this to you with no malice whatsoever

he just wants you to be happy as his dear friend because you went to him one night with your grievances and an additional disclaimer "sorry for bothering you i dont have a lot of people to share this with" and he perhaps thought that, after all, the sun also gets gloomy for not reaching every crevice of the earth with its rays. what more of you, a literal amalgamation of light and kindness in his eyes?

[ackwrmeans]

FAMILY JOY

⊹ ˖ ࣪ㅤKENZO TENMA x FEM! reader

＼ㅤ ੭ ㅤwhere you share a small moment with your husband and little daughter.

♡ sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language and i feel embarrassed to say i had to use my brain and google translate together. but,first post!

The cold air in the room was enough for you to pull the blanket a little closer to yourself and for the little one to be placed on your chest. The newborn baby slept peacefully on top of you, the only thing that moved her was the mother's breathing that took her up and down, lightly.

You smiled a little, caressing the child's small body gently and softly, appreciating the natural beauty the child had even though he was sleeping so soundly.

The door opened with a slight creak and you took your eyes to it, noticing the tall figure in a lab coat entering.

Kenzo Tenma.

Or the man you had a daughter with today.

You pulled the corner of your lips into a simple smile, seeing him approach with an even bigger one while rubbing one hand with the other, a bit anxious and excited, apparently.

── She's beautiful, darling. ── Kenzo murmured, pulling a chair to his bed.

── Shh...── You brought your index finger to your lips, asking for silence. Kenzo raised his hands as if in surrender, which made you laugh a little at his grace.

Kenzo placed his hand on the back of his hand, which still remained on the tiny body of his new daughter. They looked at each other with a small smile on display.

── Have you decided on her name yet?

── I was just waiting for you.── You laughed a little, starting to try to sit up while Kenzo helped put the pillow on your back. You sighed.

── Well, do you have any ideas, dear?

You placed your index finger on your chin and looked away, pretending to think deeply.

── Maybe a Japanese name?

Kenzo alternated his gaze between his wife and daughter, letting out a brief laugh and crossing his arms.

── Mai, maybe? Doesn't look bad, hm?

You still had your eyes away from Kenzo's face as you still thought. Then he looked down at his chest and looked at his daughter.

── Mai Tenma. ── she murmured to herself and caressed the back of her daughter's head.── Sounds good, love.

Kenzo smiled victoriously, without needing to show his teeth.

── Mai Tenma...

As they fell into a comfortable silence as they observed their daughter's sleepy figure, you observed quickly, but saw the baby pull the corner of her lips into a small, brief, innocent smile.

── Kenzo...! Kenzo, she... Mai smiled! ── You pointed, excitedly, trying not to cause a fuss.

── That's good, which means we weren't the only ones who liked the name, love.

[benilos]

So Ben Drowned is basically modern day Johan Liebert. Manipulative characters are kind of scary. I study his personality and I think Ben Drowned is secretly Johan Liebert. If I said so, he is basically Gen Z’s Johan Liebert.

-headcanon anon who missed everything.

had to look up who tf johan liebert is and honestly? Yuh. Canon BEN, the little green FAB-ed freak turning ppl into serial killers and controlling them? Sexy as fuck lets do it

[ukemikey]

Jan let's Johan read to him and tells Johan its just because he wants to read that book but doesn't have the time. Johan knows it's just because Jan likes to hear his voice (he isn't complaining).

[wwwfuck-youcom]

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 - 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

- 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 💀

- 𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬

- 𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐩𝐥

- 𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 "𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐲" 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

-𝐛𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

- 𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐮

- 𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮 𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐭𝐟 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝??)

- 𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐔𝐌 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐄𝐌) 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ( 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐡 )

- 𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐲𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

- 𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐭𝐛𝐡 𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐛𝐭 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧 💀💀

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫.

[ballisticbunni]

DIETER WITH A PET RAT UR SO RIGHT.

Also personally I like to imagine how any parent/teacher meeting would go with Tenma and Dieter. How do you even begin to explain that??

Like Tenma trying to explain saying, "Yeah he's probably a bit disruptive and disrespectful of authority due to being on the run from the police for a couple years. No, he's not my son. No, I didn't kidnap him. Sorry he's so used to violence I was doing my best. Really, it's a wonder he turned out this well."

So sorry for a late response!

I’ve actually thought about this multiple times, myself. As funny as it may sound, I like to imagine Dieter putting on this sweet mask in front of Tenma whenever he’s up to no good, seeming as if he’s an angel (which he is). But Tenma sees right through it every time, and knows somewhat—what is going on in Dieter’s head. I’d also think Dieter, being the wit that he can be, would share his sarcastic input and unnecessary commentary throughout these parent/teacher meetings, and Tenma has to keep himself from laughing.

But, even with Tenma being considered one of the many “paternal figures” in the Monster fandom, it’s hard to envision what kind of father he’d actually be. Of course he’s kind, gentle, and patient. But would he also occasionally put his foot down, be stern, and confrontational? Maybe with Johan—yes, we’ve already seen it. But I can’t see him acting such towards Dieter. What do you think? (I believe Johan is cursed with the older sibling syndrome, and has certain expectations to meet, while Nina and Dieter get let off the hook. Lol).

Also, speaking of which in regard to what you mentioned! Even though Tenma has somewhat of a guardianship over Dieter, people would still question their dynamic—leading to possible racist interactions. At this point, if/when Dieter witnesses this, he completely drops his “class clown” act and sticks up for the one person he’d consider “dad.”

Anyways! I apologize for the length of this post! I hope you don’t mind. I guess I couldn’t help myself, I get excited with these asks. But, please share any more opinions you may have! It’s enjoyable to read.

[mymelodyjaeger]

Melody's Writtings.

I will write: Smut/Erotica | NSFW | Fluff | Angst. Most likely I'll do more headcanons and one-shots than long fanfics.

English is not my first language so, if I commit any mistake please let me know.

VERY IMPORTANT!

• I accept requests!

• I don't use y/n.

• Minors DNI.

Fandoms I'll write for:

- ATTACK ON TITAN.

• Eren Jaeger.

• Grisha Jaeger.

• Zeke Jaeger.

• Armin Arlert.

• Jean Kirstein.

• Levi Ackerman.

• Colt Grice.

• Porco Galliard.

• Reiner Braun.

• Kenny Ackerman.

• Miche Zacharius.

• Willy Tybur.

• Marlowe Sand/Freudenberg.

• Connie Springer.

- RESIDENT EVIL

• Leon Scott Kennedy.

• Chris Redfield.

• Alexander Kozachenko.

• Ethan Winters.

• Carlos Oliveira.

- MY CANDY LOVE

• Castiel.

• Lysandre.

• Armin.

• Kentin.

• Ryan.

- MONSTER (NAOKI URASAWA)

• Kenzo Tenma.

• Johan Liebert.

• Wolfgang Grimmer.

• Jan Suk.

- STUDIO GHIBLI

• Howl Pendragon.

- DEATH NOTE

• Light Yagami.

• L Lawliet.

• Raye Penber.

• Teru Mikami.

• Mello (Mihael Keehl).

• Touta Matsuda.

More characters and Fandoms will be added in a future!

- Cinna.

[callingitquits]

Johan Kisses Headcanons

Whole headcanon dump about how he gives and receives kisses. It covers everything from how he likes to be kissed, how he kisses you, and all the little ways it shows through. Super self-indulgent.

His Kisses Are Slow and Measured

Johan doesn’t rush. His kisses are deliberate, almost too gentle, like he’s tasting a memory. He likes to savor things. When he kisses, it’s like he’s studying you, committing every angle to memory. He doesn’t lose control easily, so even if it’s passionate, there’s always a quiet intensity beneath it. A silent calculation.

He Kisses Like It Might Be the Last Time

There’s always something final about the way he kisses you, something that feels like goodbye even when it isn’t. He’s certainly not clingy, but there’s a sort of grief behind it sometimes, like he’s mourning you in advance.

First Kiss

Johan had obviously never kissed anyone before. When you finally bared your true feelings to him that one fateful night, he surprised himself by stepping forward. His approach was stiff, hesitant. Much like a soldier learning an unfamiliar dance. He closed the last inch with a soft, questioning touch of his lips to yours, barely more than a breath.

The moment was much too brief for anything passionate, but it was electric in its awkwardness. A slight, almost imperceptible tremble in his fingers as he held your face with both hands. His eyes fluttered open at once, searching yours for instructions. There was no practiced grace. He drew back almost immediately, as if unsure he’d done it right, and then froze.

He stared at you, eyes wide and shining, like a young fawn stepping onto dew-drenched grass. Trembling and vulnerable, utterly caught between wonder and fear. A fragile mask that truly belied the calculating predator beneath.

His Favorite Places to Kiss

• Your eyelids when you’re sleeping or pretending to be.

• The corner of your mouth after a real kiss, as if he isn’t done.

• The pulse on your neck, like he’s fascinated by the fragility of it.

• Your wrist, especially when you’re anxious.

• Your forehead, always unexpectedly soft…like some remnant of the boy he used to be.

His Favorite Places To Be Kissed

• Behind the ear, the one place he’ll never flinch.

• His jawline, especially when done without thinking.

• His forehead, softness where the bullet went.

• The back of his neck when he’s seated or turned away.

• His hands, if you kiss his fingers and knuckles he’s somewhere else entirely.

The Forehead Kiss

It’s the most intimate place someone could touch him. And it’s the place where he nearly died. Was meant to die. By the hand of the only person who’s ever truly known him. The scar may have faded, but his mind remembers. That spot carries weight.

The first time? He won’t flinch. That would give too much away. But his entire body will stiffen. Just for a second. He might close his eyes, not in peace, but in calculation: Do you know what this means? Why would you do it? He may leave after. Not abruptly. Quietly. The kind of retreat that looks casual, but isn’t.

If you do it when he’s unguarded (tired, distant) He won’t stop you. But when he notices, he’ll feel exposed. There’s something unsettling about kindness applied to a site of trauma. It makes him feel almost forgiven. And forgiveness is dangerous to Johan. It suggests he was wrong. It suggests he’s human.

If you do it during a vulnerable moment (after an argument, or while he’s silent and spiraling) This is when it sinks deep. A kiss to the wound he was never meant to survive. It confuses him. Angers him even. Not at you, but at himself. Because part of him wants it. Wants to feel healed. Wants to belong to someone gentle enough to do that and not flinch.

He may stare at you too long afterward. Like he’s trying to find a reason not to care. But he does. Deep in there. Somewhere. And that terrifies him.

Sometimes, after you kiss him there, he dreams of his sister’s hand trembling around a gun. Of lying on the floor. Of blood. And then of you, brushing your lips against the place death tried to enter and didn’t succeed.

It almost makes him feel like he lived for something.

Almost.