#like. honestly i'm curious about what that was like because he seems unconscious

[wereh0gz]

Hoooo boy that was. A lot

[fatuismooches]

i'll brainrot with you about dottore and his sick! s/o:

clearly with s/o's conditions it's not optimal to go outside in the freezing cold, but one day the snowfall is so much more gentle outside and something like this is a rare occasion in snezhnaya. would dottore indulge them (of course with plenty of precautions taken) or would he rather not risk it at all?

your writing paints such vivid pictures in my head and i honestly love the comfort and warmth your work brings :]]

♡ 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 ♡

synopsis: Your poor health and fragile condition have consistently gotten in the way of various activities for many years. But that was going to change today, as you were going to take your first step into the flaky goodness of pure, white snow.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Related to the posts under my fragile reader tag. Thank you very much, I'm very glad my writing makes you happy! This was so cute, I originally planned for it to be only a couple hundred words but I went overboard and decided to make it a full-blown piece.

You used to enjoy the concept of cold. Growing up in a hot country had you deeply curious about the kind of weather that would warrant people wearing dozens of layers, bundling up to the point where they were barely recognizable. You wanted to go somewhere that snowed one day, you once told your lover as he sat at his desk, tinkering with Archons knows what. Dottore only grunted in response, saying that if research led him there, you would accompany him. As a matter of fact, there were some Ruin Guards he wanted to take a look at in Dragonspine. You hummed, enjoying the moment as you continued to flip through the picture book.

But now, you couldn’t bring yourself to like the cold. You think that if you weren’t sick, you’d enjoy the weather in Snezhnaya much more, but the cold permeates your body even though you’re inside the lab. (Dottore had to force Pantalone to give him more funds to install more heaters.) You didn’t like to even walk through the halls of Dottore’s complicated maze-like lab because they were too big, making the cold air suffocate you all around. (Unless you’re accompanied by a clone. Somehow, Dottore had implemented a feature into his clones to heat up and become warm, so when you’d cling to them, you wouldn’t be cold anymore. You enjoyed it thoroughly because the reactions of the clones were cute.)

Many days, you spent the time looking out the tightly sealed window at the snow. Despite living in the snow-covered nation for so long, you had never sunken a foot into the powdery fluff. When Zandik was recruited into the Fatui, you were unconscious during the trip because your body surely would not be able to handle such an extraneous journey. How would it feel, you thought? You’ve frequently asked some of your favorite clones to tell you how the snow felt. (You felt slightly embarrassed asking your real lover.) Apparently, most of the time the snow was deep and crunchy from continuous snowfall. If you weren’t careful where you walked, half of your leg could get swallowed underneath! Many children liked to form things like balls out of the snow and play games with them. But sometimes, very rarely, the snow lightens and melts, depending on how the Tsaritsa feels. It’s a beautiful scene, apparently.

You had lost faith in the Gods long ago after your mysterious illness suddenly struck you (Zandik never cared about them in the first place), but you hoped and prayed to any force that was willing to listen to you - please let the snow ease up, just a bit. It was a bit hypocritical since you did not like the cold, but you still desired to experience it like a normal person. You could bear the pain if only to have fun for a couple of minutes. You did not tell your lover this; one, because you knew it was impossible with your condition, and two, you did not want to bother him with your frivolous wants. But it seemed like you were too obvious with your intentions, as one of the first things you’d do in the morning was drag yourself out of bed, despite the great amount of energy it took, to go to your favorite window and peer outside.

“You seem to be quite interested in watching the snow lately, aren’t you?” The deep voice behind you made you jump.

“Zandik! Oh, you scared for there,” you pressed a hand to your heart and quickly took a seat that was already permanently placed near the window, already tired from the past few minutes. Your lover walked toward you, hands carefully placed behind his back, each step calculated. You couldn’t help but find some happiness in that - the way he walked was always so commanding and enchanting somehow, hypnotizing too.

“The weather here is quite different from Sumeru,” you observed. “I can’t help but be intrigued by it.”

“Is that so? It is quite boring to me. The landscape is always the same and it is rather hard to conduct experiments outside because of it.” 

“Heh, it’s always the experiments and research with you. At least try to enjoy it,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him playfully. Dottore shook his head and gently flicked your forehead, causing you to pout.

“Furthermore, the cold isn’t good for you. I believed you didn’t like it, anyway,” Dottore scoffed.

“I know,” you said softly. “But I still want to experience it,” the last part was a mumble that was meant for yourself, but Dottore heard it anyway, making his eyes widen as a thought began to quickly form.

“Do you… want to go outside and see the snow?”

The fact that you were caught made you bolt up straight and quickly try to deny it. “No, no, I’m fine. It was just a fleeting thought,” you quickly reassured him.

Dottore doesn’t know why he didn’t realize it sooner. Of course you would be bored, waking up every day to the same redundant routine, watching everyone go about their daily lives while you sat there, helpless to do anything besides wait for him to cure you. Of course you would want to do something new, after hearing the same repetitious lines of how you’ll get better soon, how he’s working on a new medicine, how it’ll all be over soon, but when was “soon” coming? How long has the envy of others been eating you up? The thought of that made his smile slip.

A soft goodbye snapped him out of his thoughts. A clone had come to administer your daily medicine and get you ready for the day. Dottore quickly put his usual smirk back on and nodded at you. Your gentle smile and a wave bid him farewell, as the clone wrapped his arm around you to support you as you walked away. But Zandik was still thinking. When was the last time he had seen you with a big smile? A big, goofy one that stretched your lips beautifully and made your face hurt from smiling that hard. The answer was, he did not know. The most he could recall was from his Akademiya days, where you would greet him with one of those grins every morning, always a ball of energy.

The fact followed him throughout the day as he worked. The mere idea that it was bothering him so much was simply absurd. But he could not forget about the times his clones has reported to him about the times you cried. When you refused to leave your room some days or didn’t want to eat. He was not one for any type of comfort, not when his hands had committed some of the most wicked acts to man. How could he be, when the first thing on his mind was to hurt others, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you? 

He did not know what to do, where to place his hands or if saying something would make the situation worse. He did not know what to do other than let you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing you to take his hand and place it on your head, giving him the okay to stroke your hair. He let you babble to your heart’s content and awkwardly wiped your tears away, for when he looked into your painfully bleak eyes that were once filled with life, he did not think he could refuse you.

It was an odd feeling for him. He took pleasure in seeing the pain of others, delighting at the moment when they lost all hope. He found it amusing when others took a stand against him, only to see their expression fall when they realized it was fruitless. But you? The thought of that happening to you made him… He had to do something.

—

One day you woke up, ready to live out another normal and boring day. As you sleepily rubbed your eyes, you noticed something was a bit off. Usually, you could hear the wind howling and the snow slamming against the windows, even if it was just a little bit. But there was nothing. As you lay on the bed, collecting enough energy to get out of bed, a glimmer of hope grew within you. With a great push, you heaved yourself out of bed and made a beeline to the window. You sat down on the chair, and pulled the curtains to the side, prepared to be disappointed, but what you saw blew you away.

The snow had melted significantly, leaving a moderate and easily walkable layer on the ground. The snowfall had reduced greatly, and it no longer pounded on the window. Instead, it flew down calmly from the sky, which was still gray, but it was a beautiful, hazy kind of gray. Now that there weren’t mass amounts of snow blowing your view, you noticed there was some kind of river around the lab. It was still frozen over, but the ice sparkled beautifully and reflected the snow-covered trees. Speaking of trees, you didn’t know it was possible for such boring things to look so pretty. Copious amounts of snow rested on the limbs, occasionally slumping to the ground with a thud, and the process kept repeating as snowfall continued.

Your jaw was slack the whole time, as you continued to take in the breathtaking scenery. Snezhnaya just got ten times better, you thought.

“I see you’ve seen the change in weather, [Name]. It seems to be to your liking.”

“Eep!” you started at the assertive voice that was practically in your ear. Dottore had snuck up on you while you were too entranced by the view to notice him. “You need to stop doing that,” you scolded him. 

His deep chuckle tugged at your heartstrings. “To think that after this many times, my experiment’s results have not changed. Truly fascinating.”

You tried to ball your hands into fists to prevent yourself from blushing. “A-Anyway, you should have woken me up earlier! I didn’t think this was possible!” you fretted, still in utter shock at this. 

“That, I could not do. You know your body requires a great amount of rest.” You couldn’t argue with that. He was right.

“Now, is there something you want to do?” It was as if he had somehow planned for this to happen.

You fiddled with your sweater, trying to find the words for your outlandish request. “Sooo, um, I know this may not be possible, but can I go outside? I know with my health and stuff it may be hard but… just for a bit, please,” your voice got quieter and quieter towards the end of your sentence. You bit your lip in anticipation and nervously kept your eyes trained on the rug-covered floor. The few seconds of silence that passed felt endless.

“Yes, you may-”

“Really?!?!”

Your legs were swinging happily, and there it was. Pearly whites peeked out as you grinned cheerfully and you threw your hands up into the air. The smile he had not seen in far too long.

“But, I will accompany you, and you must stay by me at all times. You must follow all of my directions as well. Do you understand?”

A walk with your lover too? “Yes, yes I’ll do anything you ask!” you easily complied. You gathered all of your energy and squeezed your partner as hard as you could (which, wasn’t that hard, but to you it was) taking him off guard. You buried your face into his midsection and refused to let go, your words of thanks being muffled from being so close to him. Dottore was stiff at first but then eased into your embrace, fingering a cord of your hair.

You were feeling a burst of energy from this exciting news, so you had to do one more thing. You released him, and when you looked up, you could see that same self-assured, confident smile that you loved. Before he could speak again, you tugged on his blue ascot with as much force as you could summon, pulling him farther down to your level allowing you to smash your lips onto his. Catching him off guard allowed you to be in control for a couple of seconds, but it is quickly relinquished as your lover takes over quickly, effortlessly deepening the kiss. When the two of you parted, he had an almost smug grin on his face, displaying his pointy shark-like teeth.

“My my, quite eager, aren’t we? I have not seen these kinds of surprises since those old days.”

“Well,” you pecked both of his soft cheeks again, “you know I always make sure my doctor knows how I feel.” At that point, there was a knock on the door and one of Dottore’s clones came in to help you with your morning routine.

“Go about your day. I will come to get you when it’s time.” You smiled and squeezed his hand once more as you rose from the chair. Dottore’s hands returned behind his back as he watched the clone and you leave.

“Perhaps I should start to add new variables to my experiment… the results are quite interesting indeed.”

—

You could not focus on anything for the whole time. Your mind was all over the place thinking about how satisfying it would be to sink your foot into the fluffy goodness.

Apparently, Dottore had designed some kind of special jacket for you to wear, along with a scarf, gloves, earmuffs, boots, and more. It had some kind of built-in heater somehow, which made everything consistently warm including your body. Normally you’d listen to his rambles on how he created it and such, but you were too giddy at the thought of freaking snow. (And also how he took the time to make all this stuff for you. It probably only took him a short amount of time considering how intelligent he was, but the action warmed your heart.)

There were quite a few clones in the lab area watching you. You think that they seemed happy for you. One of them was helping you put the gear on while your lover set down some ground rules. Zandik also had on a big fluffy coat, which made him look rather cute. You kind of wanted to fit yourself inside of it with him.

“First, you must stay by my side at all times. You’ll probably have to hold onto my arm to steady yourself. We will be following a path. This means no straying in any other direction, at least without my permission. Of course, if you feel that you can’t handle the weather anymore, let me know immediately. Do you agree to abide by these rules?”

You held back a sigh and a laugh. You knew that all of these precautions were necessary but they were still a drag. Plus, the way your lover said it all seriously as if your very existence was on the line made you want to giggle.

“Yes, Zandik. I agree to all of your rules,” you huffed as the clone finished zipping up the jacket. “My common sense is still intact, you know.”

Even though he did not show it at all, Dottore was the slightest bit uneasy. There were many things he did not understand or know about your illness. Would the sudden change in the environment trigger you? He was not sure, but he already prepared for the worst. If anything, it would be a learning experience too - to see how much your body could handle. He was ready to take notes in his head.

“Come here.”

You slowly trekked your way toward him, getting used to the feel of the long boots. It was hard to imagine wearing these every day, but you soon fell into your lover’s chest as he began to stroke your hair.

“Well then, let us go,” he wrapped a steady arm around your waist to help you balance. “Watch the lab for me,” Dottore directed the other clones as they waved goodbye to you.

They were so cute, to be honest. Especially the ones from the Akademiya days.

—

You did not realize the extent of how big Dottore’s lab was until now. There were so many paths and rooms you walked by that you had no idea existed. What was beyond those doors? Some questions were better left unanswered. You were just letting your partner guide you as you clung to his side (the walking was a lot) until you reached a great, big door with a keypad.

“Are you ready?” 

You eagerly nodded. 

“And you do still remember the-” 

“Yes, Zandik, I remember everything you told me,” you groaned. “Please just open the door already.”

“Patience, [Name],” he chuckled. “I look forward to seeing your reaction.” He let go of you and typed a whole long password on the keypad. And in an instant, loud noises exuded from the door as it began to open from the sides.

The first thing you felt was the puff of cold air hitting your cheeks, instinctively making you raise your arms to cover it. In a couple of seconds, the door opened completely and you could feel the light shine down on you. You put your hands down, and the snowy, outside world was laid before you.

It was majestic. The snow has managed to be untainted by any other substances, allowing it to be a pristine white that covered the landscape. Slowly, you took a few steps forward as Dottore carefully watched you, until you were standing at the edge where the floor ended, and the snow began. You took a quick glance at your lover and he motioned for you to go on. And so you did. You stepped into the snow.

The first thing you noticed was the crunch of the snow under your boots. It was oddly satisfying. And the way your foot sunk so easily into, it kind of reminded you of quicksand. But you could kick it around so easily, yet you could see it was hard enough to be used to form something solid. The cold hit you like a ton of bricks, but you were doing everything in your power to withstand it. The enhanced gear from your partner helped a lot. But, all you could say was wow. You were starting to get a bit jealous of the people who could walk in such surroundings every day with ease.

Dottore on the other hand was quite satisfied. The scenery was not what he found appealing. Rather, it was you. He found no interest in such worldly things, but your reactions were ever-changing and amusing to him. A snowflake fell on your nose and melted. You wrinkled your nose at the unfamiliar feeling. And he couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Hold onto me. The road is quite icy and slippery. You need to be very careful.” Zandik linked his arms with you, and you gratefully reciprocated.

You could not keep your eyes off anything and everything you saw. You loved Sumeru, but Snezhnaya was starting to grow on you. It was beautiful. But what you loved, even more, was talking to Zandik. You two had not had this much time together in far too long. He enthusiastically prattled on about his experiments, his creations. He even told you about his clones’ journey to Sumeru, and how the almighty Traveler was powerless against them. You indulged him of course. You had always loved his voice, and you found it rather endearing when he’d go on his rambles.

Dottore intentionally made sure the pace was slow and steady, so as to not rush your body or make you too tired. But of course, even after only a bit of time passed, you needed to rest. Thankfully, the two of you reached some kind of gazebo with a couple of benches inside. You had no idea this existed, and it seemed Dottore didn’t either, which didn’t surprise you. That man probably only cared about the entrance and exit to his lab.

The bench was cold but you did not care. Having your lover with you for this long already made you feel warm and fuzzy. Furthermore, you’d be crazy not to take advantage of the situation. You called his name and before you could make a move, he spoke.

“How do you feel?”

“Huh?”

“Has your heart rate increased since the exposure to the snow and cold? Do you feel light-headed? How easily can you move your arms and legs?”

“O-oh, well… um, I feel cold. My heart is a bit fast from the walking, but nothing out of the ordinary. My legs hurt from the walk too… but I’m used to it.”

“Interesting…” Zandik put his hand to his chin as he seemed to think. You sighed, and shifted closer to him, beginning to run your hands up his coat, which clearly grabbed his attention but he watched you silently. Your hands reached his soft cheeks and brushed over the cold exterior of his mask.

“You know, you should take this off more often,” you suggested as your hands began to creep under the sides of the mask. “There’s no one around…” you hummed. Dottore made no move to stop you so you easily slipped the mask off, revealing his sharp crimson eyes boring into you, and scars from long ago. Of course, you couldn’t help but smile at the face of your lover. 

You moved in to press your lips against his, pleased at how you could now gently trace your fingers over his scars. No matter how long you knew him, he was sensitive to touch around that area, so you always made sure to be careful.

It was an odd, but strangely good feeling, Dottore thought. One he did not know he missed, as you began to pepper kisses along the top of his face. It had been a while since the two of you had kissed for so long, which was a result of your lack of liveliness due to your illness. It seems the new surroundings really did help you. He would have to keep that in mind.

“You’re so cute,” you giggled. He frowned at that and grabbed both your wrists, pushing your back onto the bench, and making you yelp.

“Enough of that. I believe that all of this has gone to your head,” Dottore’s domineering tone was back again.

“I was just- eep!” Your words were cut short as Zandik’s lips began to mark your neck.

“The human body’s temperature can go up a substantial amount just from kissing. Would you care to experiment the limits of that with me? You would be the perfect test subject,” you felt his unhinged grin spread against your neck.

“After all, I wouldn’t want you becoming too cold now, hmm?” His impossible strength easily overpowered you as he moved to hold both your wrists with one hand, while his free one rested on your thigh.

As you relinquished yourself to him, your lips were claimed an innumerable amount of times, a clear reminder of who you belonged to.

—

You had to turn in early for the night. The miniature adventure was so, so fun, and it felt like you kicked your illness in the ass for a bit, but now you really had to get some rest to recover what little strength you had. Surprisingly, Zandik was there with you this time, instead of one of his clones. 

“...I’m sleepy, Zandik.”

“Of course. Your body has experienced much more physical exertion than usual. It needs time to relax.” You sighed, letting the warmth of the blankets begin to take you to dreamland.

“Hey, Zandik?”

“Yes, [Name]?”

“Remember when we were in the Akademiya, and during the night, I’d go down into your bunk bed and sleep with you? Hehe…”

“Yes, I remember rather clearly, the intrusion of my privacy and theft of my pillows,” he sighed. The first time you did that, he did not expect to be entranced by the sunlight cascading onto your peaceful face, the fluttering of your eyelashes, and the occasional quirk of your lips as you clearly dreamt of something good. But he had no knowledge of how to handle these feelings, so he shoved you off the tiny bed, rudely waking you up. You ended up walking around the Akademiya with a bump on your head after that.

“I was trying to give you hints, Zandik. You were just dense,” you pouted. “Hey, you should come and lay with me for a bit. Like the old days.”

Dottore was hesitant. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, rather, he was so incredibly busy, especially after today. To be more precise, he felt that time not spent on finding a cure for you was time inefficiently used (most of the time.)

You tugged on his sleeve pleadingly. “Just for five minutes, until I nod off…”

He couldn’t bring himself to deny you, as he slipped under the covers with you. The softness of the mattress, plush blankets, and pillows that had your scent almost made him do a double take. It had been a long time since he was in a bed in general. Perhaps just a few hours of rest wouldn’t hurt. It would boost his effectiveness drastically…

You immediately scooted your body towards his and pressed it into his, nudging your face into his chest. He came to rest his hand on your head, while the other was loosely thrown over your waist.

“I miss you,” you softly uttered. He did not respond, nor did you expect an answer - what could he say anyway? The soft stroking on your head was more than enough for you at this moment, and it quickly lulled you to sleep.

“Thank… you.” You were out like a light, while your lover looked at you, absentmindedly fiddling with a strand of your hair.

It was no simple task to make this happen. But as a scholar, of course, he was able to negotiate. For once, it wasn’t for his own gain, but for you. The results? It was a complete and utter success. 

Dottore could not lie, he felt as though he was back at the Akademiya with you. He remembers the two of you walking down the hallways, your chatty and sweet self a stark contrast to his rather irritated and know-it-all aura. How you would hug him from behind late in the night as he worked at his desk, begging and whining for him to go to sleep as you both had long lectures in a few hours.

He admittedly wants to see you take the first step into a raging blizzard. He wants to see you brave the cold with ease. He wants to see you swing your sword without abandon again, not afraid to take on anyone in a verbal or physical fight. He wanted his assistant back: the one who would be ready to jump down the throat of someone who dared to question him, the one who organized his notes in the most efficient manner.

The God of Wisdom once told him that his research was insulting, contradictory to the rules and ways of life. Now that he looked back on it, he found it amusing - even a Godly being was held back by such drivel. But it did not matter to him. There was no rule or barrier he wasn’t willing to cross in order to cure you, as he had already done it multiple times with no remorse. He would oversee your absolute recovery personally.

After all, there were many more snowy days to come.

Bonus:

“You know, Arlecchino, I saw the most interesting thing the other day,” a soft voice echoed throughout the room.

“Hmm? What was it?”

“I happened across our lovely Doctor going into Her Majesty, The Tsaritsa’s chambers. For what, I wonder? Hehe…”

“...I guess that [Name] person truly does mean something to him, if he was willing to go that far.”

[the-copycat-hero]

In my mind, Monoma knows how to pickpocket, do sleight of hand, roll a coin across his knuckles, all that good stuff :D I also hc him to have voluntary nystagmus. No particular reason, I just 100% think Monoma would use that skill to freak people out

Also I hc him to be friends with Hatsume Mei. Each time he visits he brings a whole packet of papers, diagrams, analytics of quirks and how they relate to their costumes, and Mei def eats it up EVERY TIME. She also has him try quirks she needs for the equipment whenever possible. They’re smart kids :>

What do you like seeing most in monoma fics/fan work and what do you want to see more of? Any relationships (romance or gen) you like? Also I’m very curious about the Monoma family 👀 Clearly they don’t seem to keep in touch. What does Monoma say when he’s asked about them? Is it something he keeps under wraps or are most of his friends aware

!!!!!!! Big Brain Takes! Massive!

sleight of hand (and other assorted part trick) Monoma is near and dear to my heart, and i could definitely see him being able to do Some Sorta Nonsense with his body like voluntarily vibrate his eyes. i could see him being double jointed, too. (he is a Bendy Boy.)

ALSO the fact that Monoma and Hatsume never interacted in any meaningful way will haunt me until i die. they are so smart, and they are such freaks (/pos). their aura would have been so powerful. maybe too powerful? i guess Hori had to nerf them somehow.

as far as fanworks go, i am a massive fan of any fic that has Monoma showcasing his quirk. (for example, Learning Curve has a fantastic scene with a training exercise/mock battle that i frequently go back to because it is So Peak to me.)

as far as things i'd like to see more of, i'd kill for more introspective pieces of Monoma learning how to adjust after the war. (let me see him talk to Bakugo, who he watched die! let me see him talk to Aizawa, who tried to protect him!!!) i'm hoping some more of that will come with time as the anime draws closer to the end, but i suppose we shall see.

romance-wise, i'm big on Monoshin and have been since season 2. the fact that it used to be a rarepair floors me. (really played the long game on that one). that being said, i could honestly read about Monoma with almost any other student, his personality is just that much fun to me. apart from Monoshin, i've been seeing quite a bit of Timebomb and Monoma/Pony on my timeline, and i find both so incredibly charming.

platonically: Kendo. Shinsou. Tokage. Mei. Honenuki. Bakugo (especially after the war). ERI. Vlad and/or Aizawa. slap Monoma in an interaction with any of them and i am Locked In.

FINALLY, the Monoma family. (man, the Monoma family.) @smallvictorianchildwhofoundwifi and i have constructed pages upon pages of lore for these human disasters, but i'll try to keep it brief:

Monoma's dad (still need a name) - only ever agreed to have a child in the first place because his side of the family was pressing for it. resents Neito for reasons that i'll probably dig into later - but as long as Neito isn't actively making a mockery of the family name, his dad really can't be bothered to think about him.

Monoma's mom (Hiromi) [PRE WAR] - had Neito when she was young (around 21 years old) because, again, her husband's side of the family was insistent. she adored him at first sight; however, she has had to make a lot of changes to appease her husband's side of the family over the years, and it has turned her into a harsher, colder person overall. every once and a while, she'll be struck with fondness for her son, but it never lasts for long before she goes back to being made of ice. maybe also unconsciously resents Neito some for marking the end of her old life.

Hiromi (cont) [Post-War] - determined to reconnect with her son after almost losing him in the final battle. has made so many mistakes that it seems impossible, but Neito got his tenacity from someone, and it certainly wasn't his father.

Monoma's class knows next to nothing about his family. even Kendo, who has known Monoma for a long while, has precious little information to go off of.

some of the girls in Monoma's class stumble across a picture of Monoma's mother from one of her last modeling shoots, but when they ask him about her, Monoma just tells them that he has his mother to thank for his dashing good looks and leaves it at that. Ittaka - Monoma's old caretaker (and pseudo-older sister) - comes to visit him once, and his classmates briefly think that his real mother must have died until Kendo corrects them (because she may not know much about the Monomas, but she knows that they are all still kicking). but that's about all they've got.

tldr; trying to wrangle a straight answer out of Monoma regarding his family is impossible.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Who are you? I love you | {UzuRen}

Theme: Fluff

Note: The wheel originally chose death angst but I re-rolled it bc the last UzuRen I wrotewas death angst so.. here's some fluff (this is if Kyojuro lived, and Tengen was never a Hashira (this is an AU please don't kill me I'm just doing what the wheel said-))

Tengen wasn't a Hashira bc he stayed as the Shinobi (ninja thingy i forget) for longer and when he became a demon slayer, he'd not gotten a chance to come across a 12 kizuki/didn't have enough time to kill 50(?) demons (I'm aware that Tengen is rlly strong and shit so he would've risen in ranks faster if he had more time :>)

Kyojuro was there, when Muzan was defeated. He was there and he was alive. He looked around at all the people around him. He smiled in a sort of sad way because they'd lost so many people. 

He moved through the crowds, finding himself admist a group of demon slayers. He smiled at them nodding as they asked if he was okay—he had wounds that definitely needed tending to, but they weren't the worst acquired by everyone else and he wanted other people to be helped first. The group of demon slayers seemed in awe of him, knowing he was a Hashira. 

Eventually they had to go to help the other people around since they hadn't been injured as much, but one of them stayed, curious of Kyojuro. 

"What's your name?" the demon slayer asked. He was taller than Kyojuro with a bandage over his eye—presumably where he'd acquired a wound. 

"Rengoku Kyojuro," the Hashira informed him, the smile still playing on his face. "And you? Don't you want to go off with your friends?"

"Eh," the demon slayer said, shrugging. "I'll go to them in a minute. I'm Uzui Tengen. Former Shinobi. I honestly wish I'd had more time to become a Hashira, you know?"

"You look like you might," Kyojuro pointed out. "When did you get into the demon slayer corps?"

"Not long ago," Tengen said, sighing. "Well, at least now my wives won't worry about me. They've worried ever since I've become a demon slayer—as if being a ninja was any better," he said with a short laugh.

"Yeah. Wait—wives? Ninja?" Kyojuro asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yes, why?"

"How old are you?!" Kyojuro said, then quickly apologized.

Tengen grinned. "I'm only 23, why?"

"You.. You said wives. Plural." Kyojuro crossed his arms, confused.

"Tradition," Tengen waved off. "Doesn't matter."

"..Okay. Well, I'm 20," Kyojuro said, changing the subject. 

"Nice, when did you become Hashira? Or, uh, demon slayer?"

"Don't know, age become a blur when your focus is on making sure no one dies because you made a mistake," he said. He said it in a light tone, but it really wasn't anything 'light.' 

"True."

They stared at each other for a beat, then someone called out Tengen's name and he turned. A woman was waving him over and he shouted back her name—at least that's what Kyojuro assumed—and told her he'd be there in a minute. 

"Right, got to go," Tengen said, sighing. 

"Mhm! See you around," Kyojuro smiled.

He watched Tengen run up to the woman and hug her, before they went off to find someone, it seemed. Kyojuro kept his eyes on the man for a moment, then turned away to help the others with bringing people to safety. 

"God, why does he have to be married," Kyojuro muttered, pushing his hair back. He weaved through the rubble and found an injured demon slayer. He picked her up and carried her to the place where the wounded lay. 

Giyuu walked up beside him, looking defeated. 

"Oh, hello, Tomioka," Kyojuro said brightly. 

"Hi."

"Are you okay? Did you get any more injured than you were before Kamado?" he asked, concerned. 

"No." 

"You lost an arm? I'm sorry.." Kyojuro said, noticing the bandage wrapped around the end of what was left of Giyuu's arm. 

"It's okay. Are you alright? The other Hashira are.. not. Shinazugawa is unconscious but the Kakushi are tending to him. They say if he was a regular person he would've died, but because he's a Hashira he will have a chance to survive," Giyuu informed him, his expression remaining in it's usual impassive state, though a tone of tiredness clouded it. 

"Ah.." 

Both Hashira looked out in the crowd of people, bustling about. It almost could've looked normal if there was not a great amount of fallen demon slayers and blood and broken down buildings. 

Kyojuro turned back to Giyuu, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I met this demon slayer! His name is Uzui." 

"Uzui? Sounds familiar," Giyuu murmured, his eyes still scanning the people around him. 

"Oh?"

"This woman was crying because she couldn't find her husband, I think. Said her name was, uh," Giyuu paused, thinking. "Uzui something. Started with an 's'? Sumi? Suma? Something like that."

"Oh, well, Uzui said he had several wives. And he's only 23," Kyojuro remarked.

"Really? Who has the time to marry?" Giyuu asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Dunno."

The lapsed back into silence and continued watching around, helping the occasional Kakushi who walked past them. Then Kyojuro pointed off to a person who was surrounded by a group of people, all of them talking. 

"The one in the midde? White hair? That's Uzui," he said to Giyuu.

"Ah. Are the women his wives?"

"I don't know, he never said who they were. Or how many."

"You sound disappointed," the Water Hashira said, turning to Kyojuro. 

"Disappointed?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I'm not," Kyojuro said, a nervous laugh tracing his words.

"No?"

"No, no, I'm not."

"Suit yourself." Giyuu paused. "If you like him, best tell his wives first." Then he left, walking towards the direction the Kamado siblings sat. 

If you like him, best tell his wives first. 

Kyojuro sighed and leaned against a particularily large piece of concrete. He supposed he shouldn't fall for someone he just met. What was the point? 

And of course, the person just had to be married. To several people. Just great.

~~~

Tengen grinned as his wives explained how Suma had dropped her plate and had caused the whole restaurant to erupt in chaos somehow. 

By now, it was the demon slayer corps all healing from the losses and celebrating Muzan's defeat. About a month had gone by and Tengen and his wives had gotten into helping everyone with the excuses and the rebuilding and the burying and healing. 

And though it had been so long, Tengen's mind constantly wandered back to the Hashira. The Flame Hashira with hair like fire whose smile seemed to brighten everyone. He'd seen Kyojuro around when he'd been helping and they talked every now and then. 

But not enough to sooth Tengen's terrible want. 

Which he hated himself for. He didn't want to want. He had three wives for fuck's sake! He turned where he stood and Hinatsuru, startled, stumbled back.

"Oh shit, sorry," he mumbled. "I'm going to go buy some food, alright?"

His wives nodded, confused. "Okay, bye!" Suma said cheerfully, glad for the change of subject.

"Bye," he agreed, smiling and grabbing his bag. 

~~~

Kyojuro walked silently down the street, tired. He'd had a long day today, pushing himself to the limits to help as much around as he could. He probably shouldn't have done that much but he needed to take his mind off of Tengen.

And it didn't work. Unfortunately.

He turned the corner, his eyes on the ground. Then he realized he was about to bump into someone and looked up just in time before he nearly crashed right into Tengen who was holding a bag and apparently rushing somewhere.

"Uzui?" Kyojuro asked, startled. "Sorry, are you going somewhere?"

"Well, I said I would be so I probably should. You?"

"Nope. Mostly on my way home, but I don't think I'm needed there at the moment so I was just walking. You know?"

"Ah, right." Tengen nodded, smoothing his hair. "Uhh, want to go to the store with me?"

Yes, yes he did. He should say no, but.. "Sure, why not?"

Kyojuro smiled and Tengen smiled back. 

"Great!"

~~~

Tengen couldn't believe his luck. Which, at the moment, he was unsure if that was meant negatively or positively. He loved being with Kyojuro for one thing, but he needed something to stop him from being so focused on the Hashira. He shouldn't be falling in love with someone when he already had wives..

He took his time as he walked side by side Kyojuro. They talked a bit as they headed to the store, finding themselves at peace. 

"Have anything to do this weekend?" Tengen asked, changing the subject.

"No, why?"

"Want to come over to my house? I need something to do. Too much time to think and thinking is boring," Tengen said, shrugging.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Which day? When?" Kyojuro asked.

Tengen shook his head. "What day do you want? I'm free both, from what I know."

"Alright! What about, uh, saturday? Sunday, if I manage it, I'm planning to convince Senjuro and my father to go somewhere with me. Is that okay?" Kyojuro suggested.

"Yes! I mean, uh, yep. So in two days. Cool. Where should I pick you up at?"

"What about the park? The one a block away from here?" Kyojuro suggested.

"Alright."

Tengen smiled, happy with this. 

Kyojuro smiled back, not knowing what was going through Tengen's mind right now.

~~~

He seemed take longer to get ready this time, as Kyojuro fixed his hair. It was saturday and he was going to see Tengen. He honestly couldn't wait, couldn't help day dreaming about what it might be like to spend the day with Tengen and not just mindless conversations while they worked. 

He left the house with a smile and made his way to the park happily. Tengen was there waiting for him and he took him to his house. 

Tengen introduced Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio to Kyojuro more properly and Kyojuro found that they were really sweet women. They didn't seem to mind at all when Tengen had hugged him. They had snacks ready for Kyojuro who took it gratefully—finding that it was Tengen's wives who had made it. It had been "UMAI!" as he'd declared. 

As time passed on and they were having fun, Kyojuro went to the bathroom. When he came back, he paused in front of the door, hearing Tengen and his wives speaking in hushed tones.

"Tengen, we don't mind that you like him too! He's really nice," Hinatsuru assured the man. 

"Really?" Tengen asked, sounding surprised. 

"Of course!" Suma decided. "He also said our cooking was delicious. He's so sweettt!!"

Tengen laughed softly. "Yes, he's amazing!" 

Kyojuro smiled to himself. 

Makio paused. "Just don't forget about us and you can date him," she ordered, putting her hands on her hips. 

"Deal," Tengen said, smiling. Then he flinched and his wives surrounded him, worried. "No, no, I'm fine. Just.. Kyojuro?" 

Makio nodded. "Yes, that's who we've been talking about, right..?"

"Yeah. I meant, uh, Kyojuro. I think he just heard what we said," Tengen murmured.

Kyojuro jolted, surprised. He opened the door sheepishly, looking guilty. "Yes, I did.. Sorry.."

{Word count: 1829}

I'M EVILLL 

imma do a part 2 MAYBE 😊

The wheel's choice: Eavesdropping, Future AU, Strangers to lovers

[lucky-bishop]

Now I'm curious what you would say about Peter's position in the narrative? (and I'm totally on board with what you said about Derek btw.)

I mean, yes he was kind of the tragic villain in S1 but especially later?

Okay, strap in, because I have a lot of feelings about Peter Hale and it's gonna take me a while to talk through all of them. Thank you for this question though! 💖

I believe that Peter is a tragic villain in S1 and S2, a reluctant ally for S3 and part of 4, a straight up villain/antagonist late in S4, absent in S5, and back to a reluctant ally for S6. I'm just putting this up here to refer to because Peter does not have a single role in the narrative that is consistent throughout the series (he's a slippery little shit like that).

So let's start at the beginning: S1. Peter is pretty clearly the villain in S1 and S2. S1 - there's a little more sympathy for him (not expressed in the show, but from an outside perspective). He was the victim of a horrific crime, and then abandoned to die by his remaining family. He is not sane. If that happened to anyone, I don't think they would be sane afterwards. It's not made incredibly clear, but it seems that Peter's level of consciousness in the coma varied a lot (especially as related to later events). To have no sense of time, to only know pain both physical and mental (his body burned, the loss of his entire family and pack) and have no release, no way to express it - yeah. Peter's a hell of a tragic villain.

What he does in S2 is...less tragic, and more villainous, even though he's not the primary villain of this season. This is where we start to see more of how manipulative Peter is (though we definitely catch a glimpse in S1 where he's trying to get Derek and Scott both to join him). What he does to Lydia is unforgivable. He's already assaulted her physically, but he then, in parallel to his own suffering, assaults her mind. I wish we had a better understanding of how magic worked in TW because it's difficult to assume how much of this is directly Peter's choice. He glimpses Gerard Argent with the kanima and nopes the fuck out of there purely out of fear and self-preservation.

S3 with the alpha pack and the nogitsune is where we finally start to see a more complete picture of Peter - and it isn't pretty. He's manipulative. He's a liar. He's sarcastic and petty to a bunch of teenagers. But he is their ally, even if it's reluctant. He shares information - for a price. He helps - when it benefits him, or at least doesn't inconvenience him. The only time he seems to help without these things is when Stiles is possessed by the nogitsune, and even that can be interpreted as a continuation of self-preservation.

S4 is where things get complicated and also they fucked up with Peter for me. Not with the benefactor storyline - I think that turning out to be related to his coma madness was actually incredibly interesting. Even an unconscious Peter is a manipulator. But working with Kate - even if he was going to double cross her in the end - and trying to kill Scott didn't make sense. It's pure villainy, yes, and maybe that's why they did it, but it doesn't fit the Peter that we know. He would never have agreed to work with Kate. He dedicates his entire life to killing everyone involved with the fire - but especially her - in S1. He's willing to die just to kill her. And then they team up? Nah. Trying to kill Scott for his alpha spark is more reasonable, but I still don't quite buy it. He knows he wouldn't have taken over the pack, or escaped, or accomplished whatever other goal. That's where it's unclear - what, exactly, is his motivation for wanting to become an alpha again? Just...power? Peter loves power, don't get me wrong, but

S5: my man is imprisoned in Eichen and then immediately gets kidnapped by the wild hunt when he gets out. Nothing for his character arc but handing him a fat L honestly. He kinda deserved it.

S6: now this is where things get complicated again but in a better way. Awesome that it only took them the entire show to get to this version of Peter (I guess that's the point of the character arc. but I wanted more of this Peter). Peter has fully succumbed to the wild hunt until Stiles shows up (and I have a lot of Steter thoughts about this but that's not what this post is about. anyway.). That magic is strong, since the Peter we've seen clings to life so desperately that he tears it apart with his claws all the time, but he is docile here. At least until he wakes up - then it's back to fighting to the death to escape and to live. He's - surprise, surprise - manipulative here once again. The clearest example of this is when he encourages that guy to try his plan just to watch him fail and die. But when he gets back - he tries to help Stiles and the others. His selfishness makes a return when he goes to get the fuck out of Beacon Hills (which, honestly, fair) but it is an interesting turn that he tries to convince Malia to come with him, is it not? The narrative has told us Peter doesn't care about other people, family more than included. Seems he didn't get the message, in the end. And speaking of 'in the end' - he stands by the pack. He very nearly dies (again!!!) because he stayed to help. It's an interesting end for a character as complicated as Peter, for sure.

Peter is selfish and self-serving and manipulative and honestly just kind of a dick to a bunch of teenagers for little reason (teenagers are annoying, yes, but dude. you're a grown man cut the sass a little). And he's my favorite special little guy, even if the narrative doesn't really care about him until the end of the series and only barely then. Peter is, if I had to sum it up in one term, an infrequently justified villain with some hinted at soft spots that I would've loved more exploration of. Let's pretend that's one term. Like I said, he's my favorite, and I had a lot to say. I hope this sums it up well!

[mothlover69]

I DEMAND LEON KENNEDY SELF SHIP LORE!!!

(I don't know anything about Resident Evil other than what my brother's told me but I'm genuinely curious.)

AAA def using this ask as an excuse to talk about how we get together ❤️

Going under the cut cuz it got away from me

I meet him at a bar when im like 21 or 22 and hes around 43/44 cuz that is definitely where that man spends a majority of his time when hes not on missions. We get to talking, he buys me drinks, he thinks im cute but he can tell im pretty young compared to him. He honestly feels kinda guilty for being attracted to me

He gets a couple drinks in and starts flirting. Obviously i flirt back. But nothing happens that night and we go our separate ways

One day, couple weeks later, im out running errands or something. The suns starting to set, im walking home, and there's not that many people around. Some asshole catcalls me, i flip him off, like i usually do. But i guess i have really bad luck that day because this guy decides to pull over and get out of his car. He starts following me, yelling something about how hes gonna kill me. I start walking faster, hoping to get to the next block where i know there'll be more people.

Suddenly, someone else appears next to me. I was so focused on the guy following me and trying to, like, survive that i dont see where they came from.

Oh my god you'll never guess who it is. Yeah, it's Leon.

Since there's now a big, buff man carrying a gun next to me, and we clearly know each other, the guy following me suddenly doesn't seem too keen to keep threatening me. But Leon still turns to him with a cold expression and asks him what he thinks he's doing.

Dude takes one look at him and just turns and books it.

Leon asks if im okay and then walks me home. He figures he should probably leave, but he asks if i want him to stick around for a bit 'just to be safe'. Really, he just cant help but want to spend more time with me. Even if he feels like he shouldnt.

I accidentally triggered his savior complex and now he wants me even more

Obviously, I say yes. Hot older guy that just saved my ass wants to hang out for a bit? Literal dream come true

At first we just talk. He's funny, and we keep making each other laugh. But the more time we spend with each other, the more the tension grows

His self control keeps getting thinner and then the two of us are unconsciously leaning towards each other while we talk. He makes some kind of teasing remark that makes me pout at him and suddenly he cant take it anymore. He grabs my face and kisses me

Im ecstatic, enthusiastically kissing him back until he pulls away with a flushed face and dark eyes

He tells me that we shouldnt do this, that hes so much older than me, and i tell him hes being stupid. Making a big deal out of nothing. And he looks so guilty, torn between his desire for me and his desire to be an honorable man that doesnt sleep with someone half his age

It doesnt take much to convince him to give in. And then im on his lap and we're making out again

He spends the night. I make him breakfast the next day because with those abs he must be starving. I tell a bad joke and he cracks up and seeing me in the morning sunlight that streams through the window... he does not want this to be a one time thing. He doesn't want to be without me

So after breakfast he asks me on a proper date, and apologizes for not doing so before. Formally asks me to be his partner. Of course i say yes

And the rest is history

Anyway..

But yeah, my s/i is a normal citizen that doesnt have anything to do with the actualy resident evil lore. I dont fight BOWs, i dont work for the DSO, im separate from all of that. And Leon really appreciates having something important in his life thats.. normal. Im something stable and soft for him to come home to. The thought of me is what keeps him strong when hes off on his missions.

Oh i got sappy good bye o////o

[cosmic-kinglet]

Okay, two videos to talk (at least a bit) about. Let's start with the much more serious one.

Earth is now in a TERRIBLE state, just very very badly broken because of Bloodmoon. My guess is that killing Earth was not part of the main plan because I don't see how getting rid of her would make getting to Solar any easier. Honestly, I really feel like the twins are amping up their aggression as a way of proving KC wrong; they're sort of like a teenager going through a rebellious/emo/angsty phase, going as far as they can think to go to prove that this IS who they are. Thankfully Lunar has been training to control his powers, but he still pushed himself too far out of anger.

Then, there's the thing that happened at the end. It looked like two creator bots examining Earth. They confirmed that she's in critical condition, and in the end, she was dragged away (presumably to the creator's lab.) Still, the interesting thing to me is that, before dragging Earth away, the bots called for help, then stated that Lunar was unconscious. I'm very curious to know why the creator would have set Lunar as the designated help before the last resort of bringing Earth in for repairs. That's what I took from that moment, anyway. Though, thinking about it now, it's also possible that the guidelines for 'help' is just to see who is nearby; in this case, Lunar would have been the only possible 'help', but he was unconscious.

Now, the much less serious video.

Moon really just decided to make Sun regret ever asking him to practice driving. It's honestly really funny to compare the dynamics in each of the driving videos. With Earth, Sun seemed to have endless amounts of chaos flowing through him. With Moon, Sun actually seemed at a much more (relatively) normal level of chaos. I don't know if it's just because Earth is so calm that Sun seemed unhinged by comparison, or if it was because he was trying to sort of fill the void that was missing while Moon was gone.

Also, once again, I feel SO seen! Like Moon, I KNOW how to drive, and I CAN drive, I just don't like driving. Though, Moon is definitely more confident about driving than I am; I'm much more comparable to Earth in that regard.

[the-white-soul]

We've got some good thoughts already, aside from Sans. The only thing he's eager about is quitting. You can't blame him with how hard this all is, but we have to win this case despite that!

Let's see... During the war, we couldn't even manage to take one life while countless monsters died. They were also allowed to make these murders since it's a given of war, but all this means is monsters haven't manage to kill anyone until Asgore's seven souls. Humans are much more bloodthirsty, and most monsters could hardly even hurt humans if they tried. At the point when souls were taken, we were forced to do so just to live free from a barrier which was put in place for no real reason in the first place. Monsters were innocent for the longest time and beaten down on by humans for that one instance with the curious child who absorbed the soul of their already dead friend. The kid didn't even try to harm anyone with it, like Alphys said.

I'd like to say I should go as a witness as well since I also know asgore well and grew up in politics so I know how things work, but then again I didn't perform well last speech and I might ruin this again in addition to sparking some negative reactions just by showing me face.

Speaking of, d'you think people are going to try to take me for murder? Or would the police not care since that human was obviously an idiot? At least I hope it was obvious.

(Kara) "Honestly, I have no idea. How hasn't he been arrested? I'm happy about it but confused." (John) "While you are probably a criminal, you are a criminal of war, so…" (Dess) "It doesn't matter. We have great security." (Kara) "People spraypainted your house." (Dess) "They were protecting you. They are everywhere." (Kara) "Spies cost money." (Dess) "You want to know how we can afford everything? There's one monster who's so popular even some humans give him plenty of money." (Mettaton) "It's me, darlings! You can see why, can't you? I'm so glamorous it connects the world because everyone agrees I'm hot." (Kara) "Whatever pays. Now, one last question." (Dess) "What is it?" (Kara) "What will we do with the Anons?" (Dess) "I was about to ask the same thing."

(Kara) "How many problems can we handle? I feel like I'm about to explode. You can change your voice, as well. Great, now you could all be psychos. 'Hey Kara, did you have enough stress today? No? Well, let's make it so you want to pull out your hair and punch yourself so hard you'll be unconscious. Won't that be great?'Looks around and sees the monsters hiding behind a chair. Sorry, something slipped out. Now, how did you get here? Cause when one person gets in…"

(Kara) "Wait, Chara did this again?" (Dess) "Um, Kara? I don't mean to alarm you too much, but we're not hiding because of you." Kara turns around and sees Chara pop out. (Chara) "Howdy!" (Kara) "Oh shit!" (Chara) "Don't worry, I'm not here because of blood lust. Well, not now. Tee hee. I'm here because I thought a flower would've been my mailman, but he seems too afraid. Don't worry. I'll tell them. Winks. You see, I think you should take this more seriously." (Kara) "Why?" (Chara) "Oh, let's just say monsters will be free one way or another, whether it's by death or love. Most likely both. I guess you've met some of the anons. I thought about giving you a little fun because we all know how boring court dramas can be." (Dess) "Don't you want monsters having less discrimination? How does bringing more hate solve anything?" (Chara) "Well, if you can't handle a simple creature like an anon, you should give up! I promise you I'll make it quick." No one spoke. The wind could've gone 1 MPH, and everyone would've heard it. (Chara) "Okay! If you want a ridiculous trial, then who am I to judge? Good luck! Try not to die to the anons!"

[phantastus]

I don't know if you're actively answering questions right now but I have a kinda stupid question that I'm curious what your thoughts are on it. If you don't want to answer that's fine tho lol

Basically, uhh. What are your thoughts on Heather going by Cheryl post-game? Personally I'm conflicted about it, because while I understand the explanation given in-game, part of me feels like it partially defeats the purpose of being able to become her own person and everything... If she goes back to using the name that Harry regretted choosing because it made him see her as a replacement for SH1 Cheryl. But at the same time, it could also be seen as an acceptance of those before her? Idk honestly.

I wanted to ask you because, well, you've been into silent hill far longer than I, and seem very passionate about Heather as a character, so I figured you might have personal opinions on the matter. As I said though, it's fine if you never answer this because it's super out of the blue

I'll be curious to hear your thoughts if you do answer, though!

Hey there! I'm like, in a perpetual state of flux, but I do try to answer questions whenever I get them! (If I leave them for too long, the ADHD guilt sets in and then I never do it, lmao.....). And, it's not a stupid question!

I agree that I always found it a *little* bit head-tilty for the reasons you mentioned-- Harry himself did acknowledge that naming her Cheryl was a gesture borne of wishing things could be exactly the way they were, when the truth was that Cheryl as he knew her would never again exist. But I also think the other thing you mentioned holds weight-- a big aspect of SH3's plot imo was Heather regaining a full awareness of self (something she'd previously been repressing for her own safety, and unconsciously running away from her entire life) and coming to peace with the fact that her former "selves" were still part of her, even if she'd grown and changed.

This song (which is one of my all-time faves, tbh!!!!) really captures the aching sadness at the core of Silent Hill 3 for me. It's written as though from the point of view of Heather at an earlier point in her own lifetime, but symbolically I think it's also representative of Heather's relationship with Cheryl/Alessa-- not just as literal people, but as periods of time that no longer reflect her current feelings and understanding of the world, yet still EXIST within her nonetheless.

SH3 is, after all, a coming-of-age story-- a huge part of it is about grieving for the person you once were but are no longer. That moment of feeling disconnected from your childhood-- whether it's due to being unavoidably transformed by trauma, realizing that you're estranged from people you once loved in a way that will never be fixable, having the horrible knowledge that the 'you' people want is not the 'you' that you've become, OR EVEN just the simple passage of time... Obviously, SH3 presents those themes in a VERY literal fashion because Heather is dealing with actual reincarnation and past lives here, but I think when you boil it down to its essentials, that's what it's all about.

And OOF, that really hits me on a very personal level, which I think is why SH3 remains my favorite game in the series.

To bring this back around to your specific question though, I think that the most plausible interpretation of Heather going by 'Cheryl' again is that it's a mix of honoring Harry, and embracing/making peace on her own terms with the past she'd been running from for so long.

From a FULLY in-character perspective, I see post-game Heather primarily only going by Cheryl with people she fully trusts, and retaining Heather as her more commonly-used name (or EVEN picking out a completely new pseudonym, since I guess 'Heather' would be known to the Order now lmfao) for simple safety reasons.

SORRY FOR THE RAMBLING, I hope I actually answered your question! NEVER apologize for asking me to talk about Silent Hill, it's always encouraging to know that anybody wants to hear my unhinged ramblings, haha.

[samejimamitsunari]

in your mind whats the difference between akijin & jinaki ive seen a lot of diff information floating around, like i always thought it was top/bottom preferences but recently ive seen it mean other things

hi anon, thank you for your ask!

i'm ngl i laughed. really hard when i looked at my inbox. this topic is very funny to me because it's. really not that serious but i'm neurodivergent so i could talk about this in an insane amount. i'm actually really curious what that different information is bc in general communities, it really is just boiled down to the top/bottom preference... let me know!!!!

it's embarrassing to talk about so rambles under the cut

content warning: mention of heavy drug usage, implication of sexual themes

i've had someone ask me about the difference before so i'll use it as reference. this isn't really "in my mind" per say but mere observation of both separate communities (mainly in east asia) and how they characterize them. just thought i'd explain how they're interpreted by a larger community before talking about what i think honestly.

** also to be clear this will be in the context of current jin and akiomi, not their younger selves

akijin fan content

one trait that is heavily amplified within this dynamic is jin's unrelenting guilt due to overshadowing akiomi during their idol era. in a lot of content, jin seems half dead... like a walking corpse. he's unable to set healthy boundaries with not only his relationship with akiomi, but in nearly any type of scenario. in a way, it always seems like jin feels that he owes akiomi for all the pain he let her suffer through. (<- this is very important, as it is a common theme) he doesn't outright say it, therefore expressing it through action. essentially, all of his self-destructive traits are greatly emphasized. (this could also breach into... darker tropes unfortunately or heavy drug usage on jin's end...)

in the case of akiomi, content typically likes the idea of her power tripping over jin considering the fact that she is finally able to be his equal. she has this sense of control over jin that could easily be traced back to her super idol sagami jin obsession, but welded with the deep resentment she holds when she was trampled by him.

there's also the inclusion of one-sided pining. this is mainly in the case of jin, where he feels that his love wouldn't be reciprocated due to the fact that akiomi may love his crossdressing self instead. idk as far as i know, it... implies akiomi is a cishet man and instances where it feels like akiomi wishes jin was a woman instead. i really dont like this idea. it's ooc. because of akiomi's strict nature, it's like. they try to push traditional ideals and gender roles into her character. ugh i dont want to talk about it that much.

all of these factors lead to some art feeling loveless when you look too deeply into it. it's like. looking closely, within all the guilt and resentment, when moments like rainbow are illustrated... there's love. it's there. it's a breath of fresh air after suffocating... mainly because it feels like their situation is never getting better (because neither side communicates their issues... or bother to seek help for themselves. but i believe in them)

ultimately, akijinPs do tend to focus on jin's characterization a lot more. not to say there aren't akiomi biases but. idk. it's feels sticky around these parts. self-destruction and control is a common theme here

jinaki fan content

jinakiPs love the young jin and akiomi dynamic, for sure. i'm not going to focus too heavily on it but its something to keep in mind.

jin has this unconscious responsibility over akiomi due to old habits. said habits are caused by their previous upperclassman and underclassman dynamic, even though they are equals now. this leads to a more capable, cooler image of jin. (not too capable though, of course. but he seems reliable to some extent...) remains to be pathetic but not brooding like the previous dynamic.

it's expected that akiomi would take care of jin more, but in this dynamic, jin takes care of her as well... spoils her? through physical affection. excessive flirting. the likes. idk. shes so girliepop. her super idol jin obsession is mentioned much more explicitly. more easily flustered.

a lot of the content is very domestic...! i think the idea of taking care of akiomi as much as possible is valued highly. it could lead to cases where jin feels extremely protective of akiomi but... again its not realized. (on rare occassions it is)

lots of doujins are cheesy i cringe happily

akijinaki fan content

theres like one. prominent "non-fixed" artist in the jp community. i mean, they lean towards jinaki dynamics but i just know they DGAF and carefully tag if their art is more akijin or jinaki leaning... for the sake of people sensitive to that stuff. though, whenever they draw akijin content, it's nooooonnnnne of that corpse like jin stuff. it's more like "....?! since when did my lil akiyan get so bold...?!" where jin is the flustered one with akiomi's advances while akiomi... is sometimes a little oblivious. hehe (i like dis artist)

thoughts on this

okay so. its not that serious. i have to remind you again. even after explaining all that... just in case because i feel crazy talking about this shit.

but yea. akijin community focuses more on the toxic parts of their relationship that we dont really get to see with jinaki. i think if you look closely at content from both communities from over the years (you can do that on pixiv since a flow of content doesn't even come that often), i guess you can probably get a better idea of what the hell i'm talking about. i'm.... actually unsure if this is understandable by just reading the jin and akiomi stories alone. i wouldn't know

in the end, it does boil down to sexual intent they have for these characters. um sometimes i guess

anyway...? to me? umm. i used to have a preference for akijin when i first got into enstars (mainly because a lot of the content i was first exposed to was from that community). i think it could be talked about even more deeply honestly but i really dont want to get into that.

damn. idk im different from yall i like toxic lesbians as a trans lesbian regardless of "positioning". live a little. also i think the toxicity could be talked about in jinaki. but i do like the mutual possessiveness... codependent lesbians ya.

i love old lesbian chu chu cope. thats what akijin and jinaki mean to me. as simple as it is. (it's not... i just wrote all of this...)

i'm normal i just like old people. thats it.

if you need anything that needs further explaining, let me know...? also i'm still curious where you got the idea that it's not just top/bottom dynamics... thanks for the ask again. i probably sound insane.

[chubbyheadquarters]

Getting with Macaque

Genre: Romantic, slight Angst

Pronouns: Gender-Neutral

TW/CW: None

Character(s): 6-Eared Macaque-Liu Er Mihou

It'd be interesting, to say the least.

As we all know, Macaque's not one to trust easily. He's gotta ease his way into trusting you, so you'll have to be patient. He'll be a little coy and purposely confusing, but if you stick around, then his opinion on you will change a little bit.

When you met him and act all nice, he'll see it as a trick. He's been betrayed before and people have gone a great distance to fool him. He's not about to let that happen again. But he'll lower his guard just a little when he realizes that, yeah, you're just a nice person.

If you know Wukong, he's gonna use that to his advantage and use you as secret intel. If you don't, he can still use you to get to know Mk, which he proposes as meeting a new friend.

You, totally unaware of his secret plans, continue supporting him and cheering him on, giving him advice and are always willing to be there if he ever wants to vent or rant. He slowly starts to feel a bit bad. Here you are, being used by him, and you don't even notice.

He appreciates how patient you are with him, especially when it comes to him not talking about his past or motives. It's a sensitive topic, and though he won't say now, he knows he'll be able to tell you one day. Talking about his revenge on Wukong gets you curious, but you let him do his thing.

If you're into art and/or theatre, he's honestly really happy about it, though he tries not to show it. He's got a bad boy reputation to keep. Although, if you offer to help in any way, bad boy energy is gone and you two are planning and making stuff for his next play.

He's gonna train you. Part of the package deal. He says it's for safety reasons, and y'know what, he's partially telling the truth. He might need your help in battle afterall. Even if you're not strong, you can still act as a distraction. But part of him truly doesn't want you to get hurt, so he's gonna teach you how to kick some ass. He'll be a tease, but he'll always praise you when you do well.

Don't push yourself. He'd rather you take your time with training and get it as perfect as you can. After training with him, you would unconsciously look to him when you did well, waiting for his praise. It makes him feel warm inside, knowing how much you treasure his words.

When you talk to him about weight, maybe even wanting to lose it, he'll help you out if that's what you really want-But he's-So confused? Why? You're so soft and plush and everytime he holds you it's like he's in heaven. I'd like to think that he's open to every body type, but he tends to prefer a fuller/chubby partner.

If anyone messes with you, especially if it's because of your weight, they'll get what's coming to them. He'll embarrass them, scare them for a bit, make sure they learn their lesson. He'll comfort you, telling you that you're fine just the way you are. "Those idiots don't seem to know perfection...""Huh?"" Those guys are just a bunch of idiots." Cue blushing monkey.

At one point, he starts questioning if he really wants to keep doing this. He realizes he doesn't want to hurt you, but he had been planning his revenge for so long. He can't lose this chance. It was...REALLY conflicting for him. But he went through with it and it crushed you when everything came to light.

When you do find out, your conflicted and hurt expression makes him realize HOW MUCH he fucked up. He kept telling himself that his revenge was what mattered the most. He didn't need you. You'd leave him anyways. Everyone always does. But your words hurt him so much more than he thought they would.

"Everything we went through...was all a lie? I didn't mean anything to you? Was I just going to be another puppet? Y'know, I'm so used to being used by others, but... I never expected it from YOU..."

When you leave and don't come back, he's devastated. He tries to get over it with his bad old coping habits, but he just can't. Nothing's the same without you. He wants you back, but he knows it's not that simple, and it's not gonna be easy. He broke your trust, and you told him that was the most important thing in y'all's friendship.

He quickly notices how you linger at the entrance of the building when passing by during a walk or if you're heading somewhere else, as if you're pondering on going in, but you never do, always leaving with a look of sadness and betrayal. It takes a little while, but he finds a way to get you to come back, and he makes a play of the events that happened that day. It felt like a cruel joke, like he wanted you to relive that that day. It made you want to leave, but the ending was different.

"The warrior, heartbroken by the loss of his one true friend, decided to change for the better. And after time had passed, he went to them, and apologized with the hope of gaining their trust again."

You stayed behind when the show ended, conflicted about the play. You knew it was his message to you. An apology in the Macaque way. But this wasn't something he could simply apologize for- "Got room for one more?"

The two of you talk it out, him letting you vent about your feelings and how trust was a hard thing to earn back when it was broken. He apologized and admited that he had truly begun to see you as a friend. Someone he started to, in a sense, cherish.

Seeing him so vulnerable and open made you think about everything, and with a conflicted heart, you decided to give him one last chance, and that if he we're to blow it, he'd never see you again. And goodness he's so willing to make it up to you.

Slowly but surely, he starts gaining your trust back. He became a bit more open, emotional wise, but past wise still guarded. He took your feelings way more into consideration. In due time, you began to laugh with him, joke with him, even smile at him. Yeah, he's not going to lose your trust again. He doesn't ever want to let go of this warm feeling.

He'll see the confliction on your face when you happen to hear him talking about Wukong. You never butt in or try to stop him, knowing it's not your fight, but it still reminds you of that day.... He tries his best not to bring it up around you.

Before you're together, he'll flirt and say it's a joke, but he's testing the waters to see how you'll react. If it's positive, he'll continue. If it makes you uncomfortable, then he'll stop.

His tail will unconsciously move towards you, wrapping around you. When you mention it, he denies it with all sorts of excuses. You find it cute, but you usually keep it to yourself. Last time you called him cute, he went on a small rant on why he wasn't cute. Okay whatever Macaque ┐(￣ー￣)┌

When he's tired or just wants to be closer to you, he'll lean on you, just wanting to feel your warmth and comfort to get him through the rest of the day. Head on your shoulder, eyes closed and muscles relaxed.

This bitch fucking cuddles you to oblivion. He's not letting go. Once he's got you in his grasp, you better hope you won't have to be anywhere important anytime soon. And that you have snacks. You're his personal pillow now. I don't make the rules.

👏🏽Pet👏🏽the👏🏽monkey👏🏽Please do so. Brush his hair and hum a little song. That'll put him at peace. But better yet, simply run your hands through his hair, massage his head, and he's in heaven. He'll never get tired of your touch. It's so soft and he knows he's safe with you.

At one point, he will turn his glamour off around you. He's fucking scared of what you'll think, scared that you'll run off and hate him all over again-But when he feels your hands softly cup his cheeks and you give him a soft smile-He knows that you're the one. You two will cuddle that day, not leaving the room and enjoying each other's presence.

When you do get together, not much changes other than the fact that he's a bit more open with his affections. You guys we're already cuddling it up before. Still not super into PDA, but he'll show off every once in a while. Arm and tail around you more often and nicknames thrown out there. If anyone even dares to flirt with you, they'll get a harsh glare as a warning.

His nicknames for you are so sweet. "Moonlight", "Sweetheart ", "Sugar", " Beautiful/Handsome." Take your pick. Your nicknames for him consist of "Plum", "Honey", "Dear"-Maquack. God he was so surprised that you actually called him that. But that's usually reserved for when he's spacing out or angry. Snaps him back into reality.

Sorry if there's any spelling errors or if I missed something, I just wanted or make sure there was good enough context/flow to reading it and not randomly thrown out there. I hope the writings alright and that y'all enjoy. Wukong's up next!

[kimsohn]

''what is it that you don’t get? i’m not attracted to [name]!'' (proceeds to stare longingly at the person of their desire) with jungwon please !

close call . jungwon x gn!reader about . 500 words, fluff warnings . none

"so, are you ever going to stop staring at jungwon and actually eat your lunch, or can i steal your bowl of peaches?"

you whip your head around, facing your best friend sunoo. to be honest, you didn't think your staring was noticeable, especially since it's an unconscious habit of yours, but sunoo seems to notice everything, particularly when it comes to jungwon.

"i was not staring!" you retort, popping one of the peach slices in your mouth and chewing as angrily as you possibly can seem, "and there's no way i'm letting you have my peaches."

"honestly y/n, i don't blame you. he just looks so good in that shirt, doesn't he?"

"right? white always looks good on him— wait."

sunoo laughs, clapping his hands together and stealing one of your peach slices. you don't even have the heart to object, instead putting on a grumpy expression and folding your hands over your chest, and you watch him eat with a smile on his face.

"is my staring really that obvious?" you ask, genuinely curious, shifting positions to rest your elbow on the lunch table and support your head in your palm.

"if you're worried about jungwon finding out your incredibly obvious feelings for him, don't worry; he's just as dense as you are."

"oh my god sunoo. what is it that you don't get? i'm not attracted to him! i just think he looks cute."

"who looks cute?"

you and sunoo both turn to the sound of a very familiar voice above you, and you feel like your worst nightmare has come true.

jungwon stands behind you both, arms crossed and a slight smile on his face, as if he's overheard everything you two have been talking about. even now, when your feelings are this close to being exposed, you can't help but stare longingly at his features; the hues of his cheeks, the flutter of his eyelashes, the curve of his lips—

"just y/n's baby cousin. y/n was just telling me about how they got to meet him the other day for the first time and how cute he looks! haha, that's all."

thank god for sunoo and his observant eyes, because you would've been absolutely screwed if jungwon had to repeat himself.

"oh, okay."

does he sound disappointed, or is your mind playing tricks on you?

"anyway," you start, clearing your throat, choosing to focus on his shirt so you don't get distracted again, "why are you here jungwon?"

"oh! i just wanted to give you back your notes i borrowed," he starts, handing you the purple notebook filled with inscriptions from your world history class, "i'm really grateful you lended me these; they helped me a lot for our quiz today."

"it's no problem jungwon! let me know if you ever need them again."

and with a slight nod, he's off to his lunch table. soon after, sunoo turns to you, and you both simultaneously heave out a heavy sigh.

"close call."

[constancelaufeydottir]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Neighbour!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mentions of knife, blood, cursing, murder, mention of cannibalism, dark!Bucky(?), major character death, slight smut, fluff.

Summary: Bucky set his eyes on his sweet and cute neighbour who had suffered from a loss recently, determined to make her his.

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: This is my entry for @ambrosiase hotel indigo writing challenge. It’s my first ever writing challenge, and I had a lot of fun writing this! Honestly, I'm really grateful for this challenge because it motivates me to finish this wip that has been sitting in the draft for too long. Thank you for this lovely challenge mae ♡♡

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. If you see any mistakes, do let me know!

Room ⥤ Modern muse

Room service ⥤ neighbour + criminal

“Oh that poor thing.”

Bucky whipped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Mrs. Lockwood, his neighbour on the right.

“Huh?” He didn’t mean to voice out his confusion, but his brain was somewhat short-circuited, barely able to function when his sight was filled with you, and you only.

“That sweet girl over there,” Mrs. Lockwood was referring to you, his sweet neighbour to the left he was staring at, before the old lady came interrupting.

He had been staring for 5, 10 minutes maybe? He swore he wasn’t a pervert, you were just a sight for sore eyes, the healer of the wounds in his soul.

“What about y/n?” He asked, curious to listen to what his neighbour would say about the other neighbour. Also, he was fairly new to the neighbourhood, having just moved in last month, he ought to catch up with the gossip.

“Her boyfriend went missing a few months back, poor girl was devastated. Police suspected it was murder, even suspected y/n!” The old lady shook her head, casting pitying glances at the oblivious girl in the sundress, bathing under the sun with a book in her hand. “She’s such a sweet girl, how could they have suspected her?”

Bucky glanced at you, heart racing when you caught him looking. You shyly waved at him, a small smile plastered on your face hiding the underlying sadness of the loss of your loved one. His hand felt clammy when he raised one of them to wave back, his usual flirty self vanished whenever you were involved in the equation.

“Boy, you are in love aren’t ya,” Mrs. Lockwood teased, “I say go for it. Our lovely y/n definitely needs some lovin’ after what she’d been through and young man, I think you are the right person.” Her eyes crinkled as she patted Bucky encouragingly on the shoulder, like a loving mother cheering up her son.

Bucky, who was usually composed, blushed furiously. That big brain of his still hadn’t regained its functions thus he found himself unable to stop Mrs. Lockwood when she hollered at you.

Clearly immersed in your book, you jumped a little when you heard your name being called.

“Y/n, this young man would love to take you out on a date, what d’ya say?” His eyes widened at the accusation, though it was true that he wanted to date you, he just needed time to gather the guts to ask you out.

He saw you put down your book, walking towards him and Mrs. Lockwood. You were a front yard away from him, shielding the harsh sunlight from your eyes with your hands while leaning onto the fence.

“I’d love to,” you had to speak louder, and Bucky loved your voice as he only heard it only a handful of times now, often you were shy and quiet when you saw him.

“U-uhm, how about Saturday then,” He stuttered like a teenage boy who first received a love letter, suddenly forgetting how to speak, speech lost in the sea of disbelief and excitement, and affection.

You said nothing, only nodding and smiling at him, flashing those pearly whites.

“Great. 6pm. I’ll pick you up,”

“See you soon, James.” He watched as you walked away, a teasing smile on your face before you disappeared into the door. Gosh how he loved the way his name sounded on your lips, and he’d give anything to hear it again, and again.

Saturday came too soon, Bucky was not prepared at all. Well, he had done the reservations for the restaurant he’d planned to bring you to tonight, ironed out the creases and wiped off the non-existent dust on the dress shirt he would be wearing, so why was he nervous?

5:50 pm.

Call him old-fashioned or whatever, he’d prefer early to late and would love to escort you to his car. He stood in front of your porch, palm sweating and if his metal arm could secrete sweats, he was pretty sure it would end up like its counterpart.

You opened the door as soon as he rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, seeming eagerly waiting for him as he was for you.

He took in your outfit, the moderately revealing dress he liked, the one he saw you undress from, through his window countless times.

If it was possible to fall into a deeper love, he would.

The date couldn’t possibly be better than he imagined, it was perfect. Everything was great; the atmosphere of the restaurant, the quality of the food, and most importantly, you.

You were shy at first but opened up fairly quickly, telling him stories about you, and vice versa. You sympathized with him when he told you how he got the metal arm, your fingers grazing the delicate and intricate loops and lines on the metal surface.

His fingers were woven into yours halfway into the dinner, the cool metal fingers of his absently caressing your knuckles as you shared the story about your family, who disappeared mysteriously, then your ex-boyfriend, who went missing 5 months ago, like your family.

It was hard, talking about missing loved ones. Bucky could tell, by the way your hand unconsciously tightened, the lingering sadness in your eyes as you mentioned how happy you were before him. The way your tears were brimming in your eyes, threatening to glide down your face, it wrenched his heart, seeing how broken you were. He would try to pick up every broken piece of you in a heartbeat, mending them back together, fixing you until you were happy again if you would let him in.

He was kind of glad your ex-boyfriend was out of the picture, though it was a selfish thing to say. He desperately wanted to claim you, wanted to be your last and only boyfriend.

He’d been going on dates with you for a few months now. You were perfect, almost too perfect if he would say. You were practically his dream girl, so kind and generous. So sweet and loving. Pretty much everybody in this neighbourhood would agree with him and he sometimes wondered if he really deserved you. A beauty mingling with a beast. No one would ever want to see that, after all, even the beast turned into a handsome prince at the end of the fairytale.

Bucky wondered, if you found out what he did every night after you were asleep or what he took from your closet when you were away, would you still want him? If you found out the beast within him, would you still love him the same?

His thoughts were occupied and it wasn’t until the sharp pain in his fingers that he snapped out of his trance.

“Fuck!” You heard him cursing and went to him, gasping when you saw the streams of blood flowing from the deep cut from two of his fingers.

Hastily reaching out for the clean cloth from one of the drawers, you placed it over the wound, applying pressure on them.

The red quickly seeped through the pristine white cloth, two colours clashing as the red engulfed the white.

Bucky noticed you wincing at the red, gulping at the sight, head slightly turned away. It was obvious you were uncomfortable at the sight of blood, so he took the cloth himself and nudged you to wash the faint hint of blood on your palms.

“Sorry, now you might have to do this alone,” Bucky gestured at the ingredients on the counter, “and sorry for the cloth, blood stains are quite hard to get rid off.”

“Don’t you worry, a little hydrogen peroxide and the cloth will be as good as new,” Bucky let you tend to his wounds and pushed him towards the living room where he would sit at the couch for the next hour while you were busy at the kitchen preparing dinner.

While he was in the living room, he took in the interior of your house. He never got to take a close look, as he always had to sneak in when it was dark. The beige colour walls, cream coloured furnitures, books arranged perfectly on the floating shelves. The pictures and art hung on the clean walls, not one of them is crooked. The square coffee table with only the remote and a display plant on it, and when he shifted himself to sit at the center of the couch, did he realize the coffee table was lined up perfectly in the middle of the TV and the couch.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, he didn’t depict you as a meticulous person. No wait, whenever he went out with you, you’d arrange the plates to sit between the utensils perfectly. When you get boba, the straws must precisely be in the center of the cup, and if you missed it, your eyebrows would furrow in annoyance subconsciously.

His eyes wandered over to your figure in the kitchen and was not surprised to find you wiping and hanging the cutting board on the ceramic wall, adjusting it with your fingers so it wouldn’t be crooked while waiting for the stew to simmer.

You caught him looking at you and threw a smile at him in which he reciprocated, then continued to let his eyes wander through your living room. This could easily be an IKEA showroom, he thought.

Another week went by, Bucky found himself more and more in love with you, if that was possible in the first place as if he didn’t already dedicate all the space in his heart for you.

You were both in the kitchen again. This time however, he was busy mixing the sugar, flour, and cocoa powder mixture, with you snuggling behind him, arms circling his waist as you watched him do the magic.

He felt sorry for not helping last time so he was making up to you by baking some brownies.

As you both were cleaning up, brownies baking in the oven, Bucky turned to you.

“Hey, I never asked, but what do you do for a living?” He questioned nonchalantly while wiping the huge plastic bowl.

The wet spatula fell from your grip, dropping into the sink of water, droplets of soapy liquid flecked on your shirt.

“O-oh, i’m an artist!” You let out a laugh to conceal your flustered state, “Aspiring artist to be exact.”

“An artist,” he hummed, as if chewing onto the meaning of the word, “could you show me your works?”

Your head whipped towards his direction, mouth parted in surprise. Nobody has ever appreciated your dream. Your family, your friends, your ex-boyfriends, all of them claimed that being an artist would lead you to being unsuccessful, and you deemed to prove them wrong.

“Yes, yes, of course,” you were overjoyed. Abandoning the half-washed utensils, you clasped your hand around his wrist and dragged him to follow you towards the second floor, into a room hidden behind another beige coloured door, where you kept all your works.

Rows of headless mannequins clothed in white dresses painted with red blossoms appeared before him as you pushed open the door.

He was utterly mesmerized. He trailed his gaze across the display, a smile painted his lips as he deduced that every piece of them was unique. No two dresses had the same pattern.

Some had plain red blossoms splattered on it, some had dark red waves littering on the bottom hem; some with brush strokes of red. There was also a different tone of red, bright and dark or somewhat in between.

“Wow, this is just … amazing!” He found himself at a loss for words, “are those blood?”

“Yes, they are.”

“I thought you don’t like blood?” Bucky teased.

“These are animal blood. I’m fine with it as long as it’s not coming out from a human,” you retorted.

He chuckled. Once again admiring the intricate patterns of your works, marvelling at how talented and perfect you were. His heart sank at the thought of the question he frequently found himself asking, how can someone so perfect like you end up with someone less than perfect like him.

You apparently noticed his changed demeanor as you inched yourself closer to pull him into an embrace, placing your chin on his chest, eyes searching for his sad blue ones.

“Are you okay?” He hugged you tighter, sighing.

“I’m fine. I just … I think you’re perfect and you’re everything I've ever wanted. But I'm not sure if I'm perfect enough for you.”

“Oh James, you’re more than enough. I assure you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too.”

Bucky felt like his heart was filled to the brim with adoration, butterflies erupted from his stomach. Your assurance was everything to him, keeping his wandering soul anchored and he was grateful for it, grateful for your existence. The more the reason to cage you by his side so you couldn’t ever leave him.

His lips were on yours the next second, his grip on your waist tightened as you deepened the kiss, tongue finding his; busy hands sliding from his stomach to his shoulder.

Both of you were drowning in this ecstasy, unwilling to part away from each other’s touch.

The loud ding of the oven startled the both of you. Momentarily parting from each other, you stared at him with a heated glance. His eyes were hooded, filled with lust, desire.

“Fuck the brownies,” you whispered, molding your soft lips on him once again, the hunger for each other far greater than the stupid brownies, “need you now.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, large hands cupping your bottom as you hopped and hooked your legs behind him, arms instinctively went to his shoulders for support.

He brought the both of you to your room, the one he was all too familiar with, the one with the same cream coloured theme which could definitely pass as another IKEA showroom judging by how perfect the layout was.

The only odd thing that stood out in this far too perfect room was the trail of scratch marks extending from the door frame to the wall outside of the room.

The deep scratch marks were somehow etched deep in his brain, he couldn’t let it go. It felt as if there was a dot of blank ink on a piece of white paper, and even though there was more white than black, you’d only be fixated on the dot of black.

He would ask you about the haunting marks on the wall and your fingers that were tracing patterns on his skin would falter, you’d give him the warm smile he loved while brushing it off saying it was the huge Dobermann your aunt owned which did that.

Even when he was balls deep in you, the vivid image of the scratch marks were there in his head, though you were quick to draw back his attention with a grind on his hips, both of your bodies covered with sheen of perspiration. Strands of your hair sticking to your body, but you pay no care to them as you rocked your hips, chanting his name over and over again like a mantra, like a prayer.

His eyes were on your fucked out state, his grip on you like steel. The cool surface of his metal arm contrasted with your hot flushed body as you chase your high like a traveller chasing the oasis in a desert, desperate for a quench of thirst.

Even when he was chasing the same high, vision blinding with bliss, the marks were still there and this time they were accompanied by the white dresses painted with red, and red only.

Bucky was always a doubtful person. Doubting every single decision he’d ever made. Doubting himself, doubting others. But there was one thing he was certain of, there was something less than innocent lurking underneath your skin. Of course, he was still head over heels for you but he was pretty adamant to find out the sinister in you, hoping it would answer his questions, mainly the recurring image of a certain mark.

Bucky was a lot of things, dumbass , dork, clumsy(per sam), but he was not stupid. Hell, he was far from stupid. Those scratch marks, definitely not the Dobermann.

You were a perfectionist, you couldn’t possibly leave the mark there and acted like nothing happened in the first place. He’d imagine if it was the dog, you’d probably have someone fix the dent the same day, unwilling to allow even a speck of blemish in your flawless house.

Bucky was a lot of things, and being a dumbass was definitely one of them as he was showing up on your porch in the evening unannounced.

He’d considered sneaking in like he used to do but he knew, he saw that you were still in the house. He couldn’t and wouldn’t jeopardize your relationship with him knowing he’d get caught.

He knocked on your door, hearing footsteps paddling, rushing to him.

As you opened the door, your eyes widened at the sight of an awkward Bucky. Although you were quick to throw him an unalarming smile, he still caught the nervousness in you.

There was something off with you. The disheveled hair, thin layer of sweat adorning the crown of your head, unknown wet liquid staining your shirt.

He caught a whiff of the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the door, it smelled a lot like bleach.

“I’m sorry,” he scratched at the back of his neck, “is this not a good time?”

“It’s fine, come on in.”

The smell of bleach invaded his nose the moment he stepped into your house, flooding and overwhelming his senses causing him to wince.

“Were you deep cleaning?”

“Yeah, I accidentally spilled some of the animal blood this morning. Had to use hell lots of hydrogen peroxide to get rid of them. Sorry for the smell.”

“No no, it’s okay. Let me just open the windows and door, okay?” He was getting a little light-headed now, desperately needing some fresh air. “Doll, you need to ventilate every time you use bleach, it’s harmful for your health to inhale all these fumes.”

You blushed at the term of endearment, yet wanting to blame him for not calling you that earlier.

He went over to open the windows, sighing contentedly at the waves of fresh air hitting his face as the wind blew in.

He felt your arms snaking around him, head leaning against his broad back.

“I love you, James. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“I love you too.” He turned around and hugged you, his chin propped on your head, not knowing you had a solemn expression on your face.

He’d spent the evening with you, watching TV on the couch with you in his lap. It was so mundane yet he’d never got bored of this, wanting to do this with you for the rest of his life.

Outside the window, the orange and yellow sky faded into darkness.

“Let’s order take out, how about Thai food?”

“I’ll cook,” you kissed him on the lips and got up from his lap before he could reply anything.

“Ok, you need help?” He heard a faint ‘no, it’s fine’ coming out of the kitchen followed by the clanking of pots and utensils.

His neck stretched to peek at your figure in the kitchen, too busy chopping up ingredients to notice he was no longer at the living room.

He made his way down the basement, where the pungent smell of the bleach was still lingering.

The wood creaked as he stepped on the stairs, announcing his arrival to the darkness surrounding the basement. The soft glow of light illuminated the large space, a wall of tins stacking on each other revealed to him. A few easels of different sizes were propped on the wall with several grey aprons hanging beside them.

He walked closer to examine the insane amount of tins. A small label that said Pig blood was stickered on the body of the white tin.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Do people really sell animal blood in metal tins, wouldn’t they go bad?

There were loads of questions in Bucky’s head, questions with answers only you could provide.

He noticed a chest freezer sitting in the corner of the basement and his legs brought him to it before he came to realize. The whole basement was so quiet he could hear the soft ringing in his ears, the racing of his heartbeat amplified as his hand inched towards the lid.

There was nothing in the freezer, to his surprise.

The empty freezer stared back at him, as if mocking his fruitless attempt. He was relieved, or disappointed, he couldn’t tell the difference and there was no point in distinguishing them now since you had nothing to hide. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to find in the freezer.

“Babe?” You stood behind him with an apron on, a knife in your hand, a second after he closed the door to the basement.

He leaned against the door frame, hand went to his head, eyes squeezed shut as he pretended he was having a headache.

“Felt dizzy all of a sudden, I was just making my way to the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay. I was just about to tell you dinner's almost ready,” a tooth-rotting smile was plastered on your face.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he watched as you walked away, letting out the breath he’d been holding. His palm was clammy, heart beating rapidly.

“I love you,” You placed your hand on his arm, eyes meeting his.

“I know, doll. I love you too.”

This was seconds before dinner.

“James, I love you.” You whispered, watching him giving you a grin before he stuffed the meatball into his mouth.

“Wow, I'm so loved today. It’s the secon- no, third time you’ve said ‘I love you’ to me today.” He grinned, heart bursting with love. “You know I love you too.”

This was mid-dinner.

“I love you so much, James.”

Bucky was getting suspicious of you. Were you hiding something, perhaps cheating on him? For there were no reasons for you to keep telling him you loved him even though he knew how much you loved him and vice versa.

“I love you,” you kissed his knuckles, “this might be the last time I get to say I love you, James.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your statement, mouth parting to question what you meant. Before he could voice out something, the world faded into nothingness.

A thin film of blurriness clouded his eyes when he opened them, Bucky had this feeling like he was drowning in a swamp and his whole body was bound.

Blinking furiously, he regained his vision. You were sitting on a chair leaning forwards while looking at him endearingly, your elbows propped on your knees, palms supporting your chin.

“Hello, my love,” you were smiling oh so sweetly. The same smile that got him mesmerized and head over heels, except this time he didn’t feel the warm fuzzy feeling exploding in his chest, this time it was the goosebumps crawling on his arms and the chill creeping up his spine.

Now everything made sense, every single of his questions was answered.

You looked down at his body, the one that was once full of life, full of love. You watched as his glassy blue eyes etched with fear quickly reduced into this grey lifeless orbs, still pretty but lacking the element of a beautiful soul.

You weep for him, mourn for him. Mourning the short duration of love shared between the both of you. Mourning for yourself, for falling too hard. Mourning for him who kept you always in his heart.

To be honest, you were a little hesitant to end his life, he was better than the last one. He was perfect, warm, kind, loving, gentle, but not perfect enough. He simply did not reach your expectations, and you, could not bear imperfections, even the slightest. The answer to his downfall was pretty easy, he was too close to the ugly truth. And despite you knowing his love for you outweighs his doubt and fear in you, you simply couldn’t risk it.

Your love for perfection exceeds your love for him.

The melodious music of your ringtone echoed in the ample space of the basement, you brought up your phone to your ears as you answered the call.

“Mrs. Lockwood? Yes. Of course. I did. No no no, I’ll do it for you this time. He would definitely taste delicious I assure you.”

Time to get to work, you sighed as you stood there with a white dress splattered with blood. How artistic, you thought.

You always loved this part of the process, you’d wear the whitest piece of dress you own whenever you work with your projects.

You loved how the blood peppered your clothes, forming blossoms of dark red flowers on the fabric.

You kept every single piece of them, because no two are the same. Every one of them tells a story, of men and women who loved you and who you loved, of those who were once a body with a soul.

Wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks, you gave Bucky one last loving look and the blade of your butcher knife came in contact with his once pink but now pale skin as you hummed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the basement, forming echoes.

A few blocks away, a baby cried, body covered in mucus. The tiny infant cried, each time louder than the previous, wailing his lungs out, as if mourning. For one soul born, another reaped.

[faulty-writes]

This is a little different than most of my other works, but I'm trying to branch out and write for more of the secondary or minor characters. I actually adore the Todoroki family, especially Fuyumi and Natsuo. So I hope you guys enjoy this little appreciation piece featuring Natsuo who no doubt deserves more love considering he's a very interesting and complex character, at least in my opinion.

[ Natsuo is known as 'the nice guy' on campus despite also being recognized as a "Todoroki" and many knowing of the relation he holds to the number one hero, Endeavor. He's had plenty of experiences where people have used him because of this, but the latest one leaves him a tad heartbroken. What other choice does he have but to run to you? ]

The sound of his abnormally thick tears landing on the tiled flooring of the hallway faintly echoed as he continued on his way. Ignoring all the looks and obvious gossip that would come with the fact he was so shamelessly crying in the middle of a school day.

A sniffle came as Natsuo reached up and with some force, wiped his right eye with the end of his signature gray hoodie sleeve which he normally wore on campus. The very campus he had grown to love over the past year and the one Fuyumi had insisted he go to in order to study medical welfare.

It was funny, he could still hear her words echoing in his head, ‘Leave our family circumstances to me and go do what you want to pursue,’ and that he did. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised that his sister offered to take the brunt of their family problems and encourage him to do what made him happy.

But at the same time, Natsuo hadn’t originally wanted to leave his sister or youngest brother behind. He didn’t trust their well-being with ‘Endeavor’ around, despite his mother having long since recovered from the mental and physical abuse the so-called "number one hero" put her through.

Since the death of his eldest brother, Touya. He couldn't shake this protective and anxiety-ridden feeling that had been slowly growing inside of him. He'd be damned if anything happened to his remaining siblings, even if it meant he'd experience more emotional trauma in the long run.

Much like today. College was supposed to be a fun time, and while Natsuo understood that some enjoyed ‘experimenting’ and partying rather than studying. He was never much of the party type and while he knew he was attracted to other genders, he never outwardly acted on it.

Knowing how his father treated his mother was the one thing that drove him to desire a true romantic relationship and that was what he thought he had. Unfortunately, there was a cruel reality that came with being the son of Endeavor, and while he should be used to people trying to get close to him when they found this out.

He never thought they would sink so low as to try and date him on the off-chance they'd get to meet the number one hero. His fingers sunk into the front of his hoodie, twisting the fabric as a soft ache coursed through his chest.

Which he could only describe as a broken heart and despite wanting to go back to his own room, bury his face into a pillow, and hide under his covers. There was one person he wanted, no needed, to see. It wasn’t his mother or sister, not even his youngest brother. It was you.

Strangely, since the start of his first year in college. He seemed to gravitate towards you, at first he believed it was only due to the fact that you were also studying something related to the medical field. But as your friendship continued and he got to spend more time with you, he realized that he genuinely enjoyed your company.

The fact he found himself telling you things, secrets that he wouldn’t have thought of sharing outside of his family was a pleasant surprise. Maybe you were just easy to talk to? He wasn’t sure, but he did know that unlike most.

You weren’t going to use him just because of his relation to Endeavor, though he knew you were interested in hero studies. There was no worry in his mind that you’d use him for some hero-related advantage.

Another sniffle came before he reached up to once more wipe away his tears, even if his effort was in vain considering more just came. He took a deep breath, trying to both collect and center himself. ‘Man, this backpack feels heavy,’ he thought as he clenched his jaw and focused his attention on the floor.

Counting the familiar shapes in the tile that he knew would eventually lead to your room. The logical reason for his backpack feeling so heavy was due to the fact it was filled to the brim with various textbooks and a few notebooks that were scribbled with his writing.

He could feel the slight bitter sting of frost beginning to grow on his tear-stained cheeks which he ignored for the moment. Still, he wiped his eyes once more before picking up his pace. He soon began to speedwalk which turned into a jog which eventually led him to frantically running and accidentally stumbling into your door.

Once more, he seemed to get stares from the passersby. But in a way, he couldn’t blame them. He wasn’t even sure how he looked slumped against another student's door with his arms stretched above his head and his hands closed into fists.

His forehead was pressed against your door and his tears continued to slowly fall. His eyebrows came down and for a moment, he wondered what he was doing before the door suddenly opened. “Hel-” your sentence came to a stop when the white-haired boy stumbled forward and your hands instantly grasped his arms.

Your stance stiffening as you unconsciously seemed determined to stop him from falling. One of your legs was bent back, and the other bent forward. An awkward silence filled the air before you heard the soft sound of something hitting the wooden floor of your room.

It reminded you of water and a few seconds later, Natsuo lifted his head. You instantly noticed those tears and felt his hands curl into the front of your shirt, funny you hadn’t noticed or felt the pressure of his hands there before.

But in a way it made sense, Natsuo was always very gentle. Even when handling the few people who volunteered to pretend to be "patients" during his medical welfare classes. In fact, it seemed he was downright cautious when it came to others.

Never necessarily wanting to cause trouble and sometimes acting rather shy unless you happened to bring up a topic he didn’t like. You had long since learned the reason why he preferred to keep the topic of ‘family’ out of conversations.

Yet, you wondered if Natsuo was crying because of something related to just that. But you knew you shouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet. Still, you couldn’t help but look into those blue orbs of his. The look of hurt was clearly visible, not only in his eyes but also indicated by the way his face was twisted.

Then he leaned forward, allowing a soft whimper to escape in the process. Partly burying his face into the front of your shirt as he lifted his leg up. Then without warning, he slammed his foot against the floor. Which caused you to jump, but you didn’t dare release Natsuo.

Especially as his tears soaked into the fabric of your shirt, unlike most Natsuo's tears were always cold. You assumed it was due to his quirk, but before you could say anything the sound of Natsuo’s cracked and broken voice caught your attention.

“D-Damn it,” the stuttered words filled the air and you frowned, wanting nothing more than to run your fingers through that white snow-like hair of his before you glanced back up. Noticing a few people staring into your doorway, you honestly didn’t know why they were staring or why they weren’t minding their own business.

But you did know that something was clearly wrong with Natsuo and whatever that something was caused this reaction. You shot the bystanders a glare before focusing back on Natsuo. You opened your mouth to speak, but were interrupted by the sound of his voice once more.

“I...am so sick of this,” his words, of course only confused you. What was he sick of and how did it relate to his current state? You managed to straighten out your legs, however, Natsuo continued to cling to you.

His tears hadn’t ceased nor those soft almost desperately gasps for breath. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly said before he turned to look over his shoulder. His hands remained curled into the front of your shirt as he looked at the many people staring at the two of you.

Some seemed curious as to what was happening and others amused to see the almost grown man crying in the arms of his friend. With more strength than he intended, he once more lifted his foot and slammed your door shut.

The noise it created echoed through your room and though Natsuo felt guilty for having treated your door in such a manner, his chest was already aching profusely. When he turned back to face you, the fact he had small bits of ice underneath his eyes and on the skin of his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

Your hands left their position on Natsuo’s forearms to gently cup his face, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he was cold to the touch. You knew that was yet again another semi-harmless side effect due to his quirk, despite the fact you had never actually seen him use it.

Part of you wondered why that was. Still, you couldn’t help but allow your thumbs to run over those specs of ice stuck to his moist cold cheeks and the desire to get a warm hand towel to clean his face was strong.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to ask what happened first or calm him down enough so he would tell you with as little of a fight as possible. Your touch was welcomed as Natsuo reached up and laid one of his hands over yours.

“Do you...want to sit down?” you questioned and Natsuo looked momentarily confused before he glanced away as if he were thinking about something. Sometimes when he acted like this, it annoyed you. You knew how guilty Natsuo could feel over things that he either shouldn’t or weren’t even his fault.

He was here crying into your arms, but you knew somehow he'd make up a reason to feel guilty about it. ‘Well, that isn’t going to happen today,’ you thought as you released his face and reached down to take hold of one of his hands.

Even though they too were always cold, you couldn't help but find some odd sense of comfort when you were holding him by the hand. Despite the fact, Natsuo was significantly larger than you. But, you assumed that was only due to the fact that he physically took after his father.

The fact he went to the gym daily only added to that overall intimidating stature of his. Regardless, you squeezed his hand in reassurance as you guided him towards your bed. He made no move to resist your guidance and once you had him sitting down, you gently laid your hands on his shoulders.

Those tears were now single drops that slowly slid down his icy cheeks and you'd be lying if you stated it didn't hurt seeing Natsuo like this. You took a deep breath. “Stay here,” you instructed, “I’m going to get a warm towel, you have ice on your face,” Natsuo seemed rather surprised and reached up to touch his cheek.

Using his thumb to glide along the skin and sure enough, he could feel the smooth surface of the small patches of ice. “Oh…” he said before a sniffle came. “Sorry,” though most would know not to apologize for something beyond their control.

Still, he couldn’t help but fold his hands into his lap. Squeezing them between his thighs. His feet were nervously tapping against the floor, creating a rhythmic pattern and if one listened carefully enough, they’d recognize it was the pattern of a standard heartbeat.

In a way, it was amazing how much subconscious knowledge you could obtain. Natsuo failed to notice the rhythmic pattern, but you could hear it clear as day even from the bathroom where you proceeded to ring out the warm hand towel.

A soft groan escaped him, and his thighs were the only thing keeping his hands in place. Else he would be running them through his unusual spiky hair and possibly pulling it out. ‘What am I even doing here man?!’ he frantically thought.

‘Y/n...is always the person I run to, I keep bothering them but I’d rather be like this than…’ his jaw clenched when the thought of Endeavor entered his mind and a soft growl rumbled in his throat before he heard your footsteps which prompted him to raise his head.

You noticed he was looking at the wet towel you held with an expression only a curious and slightly confused child would make. “Mm,” once more he looked away, feeling the guilt continue to build as you sat down next to him and laughed.

"Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty again,” you stated, and not to your surprise, Natsuo turned his head to look at you. His tears seemed to be completely dry and you wondered if that was because he was here with you or that he simply overworked his tear ducts.

“Sorry,” he muttered, still focused on the towel you held and the small amount of steam that seeped from it. “I...get it's kind of crazy for me to keep running to you but-” you shook your head, quickly interrupting him.

“But nothing,” you replied as you leaned forward, “that’s what friends do and you and I have been friends since the start of our freshman year,” that had to count for something, right? You reached over, cupping one side of Natsuo’s face.

“Now stay still, I want to get that ice off your face, and then you can tell me what’s bothering you,” the words left your mouth almost like a friendly command. But like most of the time, Natsuo didn’t seem to take offense.

He simply nodded and gave you a look that you knew meant he understood. Very gently, you pressed the towel to his face. Applying some pressure to ensure the bits of ice chipped off and sure enough, you could see the clear cold pieces slowly begin to melt.

When you began to wipe his opposite cheek, you couldn’t help but raise the question. “Hey Natsuo,” you began, effectively catching his attention and the soft, “Hm?” he responded with. “I’ve never seen you actually use your quirk,” you pointed out.

“Is there a reason for that?” a gasp came when Natsuo suddenly jerked his head away from you. “Uh…” blinking once or twice. You lowered the wet towel to your lap and grasped onto it. Twisting the fabric between your fingers to allow the now lukewarm droplets of water to soak into the pajama bottoms you were wearing.

Maybe you crossed a line? Did this have anything to do with his family? As far as you knew, his mother possessed a rather powerful ice quirk. Was that the reason he never used it? You weren’t sure, but usually, when Natsuo acted in this closed-off manner it was related to his family.

“Sorry,” you said, “I didn’t mean to pry, I was just curious,” the explanation was simple and you hoped Natsuo would believe you. He took a deep breath and let out a sigh before bringing his hand up, running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s fine,” he replied, though you could tell his voice was a little strained before he turned to you. That’s when you saw the frown on his face and his eyes looked misted over as if he were going to cry again. You really didn’t want that.

“Natsuo are you-” though the answer was obvious, he wasn’t okay if he had come running to you in tears. But even so, Natsuo nodded. “Yeah…” he reached out, grasping the wet towel that you were previously holding before he got up.

You wanted to ask where he was going, but it was clear he was only heading to the bathroom. “It’s just…” you heard the wet plop of the towel landing in the sink before Natsuo walked back out and once more took his seat on your bed.

You reached out, laying your hand on his thigh. “You don’t have to tell me,” you offered with a kind smile, but Natsuo shook his head. “It’s fine,” he repeated yet again before allowing his hand to rest by his side.

“Big bro Touya and I used to play around with our quirks, but Touya was always so serious about his,” you watched as his expression grew dark and a clear hateful glance appeared in his eyes which seemed distant at the moment.

This was more than likely due to the fact that Natsuo was picturing his late brother alongside his father. “Uh…” you glanced down and watched as the hand that laid by Natsuo’s side began to curl into a fist, though you knew he would never actually raise that fist or cause harm to you.

It was just shocking how the subject of his family brought out this side in him, but you remained quiet and continued to listen. “Because of that...bastard and I hated seeing Touya like that!” he suddenly exclaimed, leaning forward as his fists began to tremble, and without much thinking, you laid your hand on his back.

"Natsuo…” you said, hoping your voice would bring him back out of the hateful moment he was in. His jaw was clenched and a shiver ran up your spine when you felt Natsuo’s trembling hand take a grip on your upper arm.

But there was still that familiar gentleness to it which indicated to you that even when Natsuo was temporarily blinded by this hatred, he was still aware of his surroundings and those that were important to him.

This was only confirmed when he lifted his head to look at you with a smile, though it was small. It was still present and seemed to put you at ease for the moment. “I’m okay but…” he once more turned away from you and a sigh escaped him.

“I convinced big bro to have fun with our quirks instead of doing what the old man wanted him to, but since he...died. I...I couldn’t bring myself to use my quirk again and I’m sure sis feels that way too,” your frown deepened, ah so that’s why.

Maybe he fears he’ll lose the memory of his elder brother if he were to use his quirk again? “What else happened?” Natsuo looked back at you, confused for a brief moment before, “Oh...right,” he said as if he had almost forgotten he ran to you in broad daylight with tears streaming down his face.

He turned, bending down to slip his shoes off before he slid his backpack onto the floor. Then he proceeded to climb onto the bed or rather proceeded to crawl over to your pillows and plop himself down.

Being surrounded by your familiar scent eased him as did the fact he could stretch both his arms and legs out. You looked at him all sprawled out and comfortable. ‘Well...I guess if it makes him feel better,’ you thought as you watched Natsuo stare at the ceiling.

His face twisting with a variety of emotions that made you wonder just what caused him to cry in the first place. He didn’t deserve that, or at least not in your opinion. “She broke up with me,” he suddenly said, his voice somewhat quick and you barely understood what he said.

“Who?” you questioned as you got onto your knees and pressed your hands into the mattress, looming over Natsuo much like how a dog or loyal companion would. "My girlfriend…” he muttered as he once again looked to the side, you assumed it was an attempt to look away from your gaze which was a mess of confusion.

“Why did she break up with you?” It was said that getting your heart broken was hard to handle, but there had to be more behind this. You sat on your knees, placing your hand on your hip as you looked down at Natsuo who slowly turned his gaze back to you but seemed to avert it just as quickly.

Despite his overall twisted expression that laid somewhere between sad and angry, you also noticed the faint pink tint to his cheeks. Was that from anger or embarrassment? You honestly couldn’t tell. But Natsuo normally didn’t get embarrassed around you and you knew he knew he could tell you anything.

‘It must be from anger,’ you concluded as you continued to wait patiently for his answer. “I’m so tired of it,” he said in a soft voice which prompted you to lean closer. “Tired of it?” you repeated, clearly not understanding where that was coming from.

“I’m sick of being recognized just because of the old man's last name!” he exclaimed once more, though his voice wasn’t raised too high. It still caused you to jolt back, then again you should have realized this whole thing had something to do with his family.

Natsuo turned to you and impatiently pressed his hands against the mattress so he could sit up. His jaw was clenched again and his eyebrows slit in anger and the way he kept his eyes locked on you made you feel a little uncomfortable despite the fact you knew his anger wasn’t directed at you.

Then a sigh came and Natsuo’s head dropped. You saw this often when he was trying to collect or calm himself down. It honestly worried you that he was always going between emotions, trying to keep himself in check for the sake of others.

His eyes were closed, but when he opened them once more you could see the absence of anger. “I wanted to study medical welfare to actually help people…” he confessed as he brought his legs up to his chest and you watched as he wrapped his arms around them.

Those long sleeves of his hood concealing the contraction of his muscles and biceps. He seemed to stare off into the distance once more. “I wanted to make a difference in the world so the name Todoroki could actually mean something to me, unlike the tie it has to that bastard,” he hissed and like a switch, that anger was back.

You could even hear that soft rumbling of a growl threatening to admit from his throat. “I don’t want to be recognized as a Todoroki just because of him!” you opened your mouth to speak, but all thoughts and actions escaped you when Natsuo turned to look at you.

Once more sporting that angry expression which was terrifying in its own way. But then, it slowly began to fade into sadness and he lowered his arms. Allowing his hands to fall back onto the mattress, you couldn’t help but glance down when you felt his fingers brush against yours before you looked back up.

“I don’t want people trying to get close to me because of him either,” Natsuo stated and you gasped when you felt his cold hand engulf yours, taking firm grip as if he was silently gesturing to you that he needed some form of physical comfort.

“But that’s exactly what she did,” you felt that hand begin to tremble and you quickly gave it a reassuring squeeze. “She used you to get to your father?” you questioned, a little confused but still showing an effort that you wanted to get the story correct.

Natsuo nodded. “She’s an inspiring hero I guess," he said with a shrug, "and wanted to get close to me so she could have the chance to speak to my father,” his tone sounded like he had given up as he tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.

That ache in his chest returned, but somehow your touch prevented it from growing any further. “Guess I was more interested in caring for her that I didn’t see it,” he commented before tilting his head back down. “Just tired of it,” he repeated.

"I wouldn’t introduce my father to anyone I’m with...they deserve better than to be exposed to him!” you could imagine that’s how the rest of his story went then. His ex-girlfriend trying to pressure him into introducing her to Endeavor only for Natsuo to express his concern and reasons for why he couldn’t.

Then from there she must have gotten angry and confessed the truth. The whole situation was unfair and you could feel your own anger brewing, using people was one thing. But using them for your own personal benefit, pretending to love them?

That wasn’t exactly forgivable in your book. No wonder he was crying. “I’m…” would saying you’re sorry even do anything? You knew Natsuo wouldn’t take offense, but it seemed unfitting for the current situation. Instead, you found yourself leaning over.

Releasing his hand in order to wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your head against his shoulder as you embraced him. Natsuo while not overly shocked at your friendly gesture, crossed his legs and wrapped his arms around your waist before pulling you even closer.

Though your back slightly hurt, you didn’t mind. Natsuo, while not completely touch-starved, still melted into anyone’s affection. You felt his stiff body finally relax and the cool touch of his cheek against your ear as he nuzzled the side of your head.

“Thank you,” he whispered, despite the fact, there was no one else around to hear you two. “I know I keep bothering you whenever-” you reached up to tug on the back of his hair.

“You’re not a bother,” you said in a stern tone, “and you should be happy that girl is now your ex, you didn’t deserve what she put you through,” your arms tightened around him just before you pulled back and grasped his shoulders.

Making sure he was looking at you before you continued to speak, “No one deserves that, you’re a wonderful person Natsuo and I know there are others that won’t care that you’re a Todoroki or that will help you make it into a name you can be proud of,” you assured him and watched as the faintest expression of hope washed over his face.

Just that alone meant the world to you and while you knew Natsuo didn’t need any protection, you still wanted to try your best to be there for him. “Come on,” you insisted as you crawled over him in order to reach the opposite side of your bed.

Though Natsuo took up most of the space, you managed to lay down and offered him your hand. That smile of his seemed to grow and as expected, he gently grasped onto your hand as he laid down by your side.

“You can stay here if you want, it’s still daylight and I don’t have any more classes for today,” you insisted and hoped he’d take the bait because you didn’t exactly trust he wouldn’t get emotional again later.

Natsuo always seemed to overthink things and maybe that’s where his sense of guilt came from. “Hm?” he glanced away and you were quick to speak. Taking a firm grip of his hand, you slipped your fingers between his and gave him a stern expression.

“Don’t let your guilt tell you that you’re going to be a bother, I want you to stay,” your words were accompanied with another reassuring squeeze, and once more his gaze was directed back on you.“...Okay,” he replied, you smiled and turned your attention to the ceiling.

Allowing your intertwined hands to remain nestled between you. Your mind was free of any thoughts, unlike Natsuo who was debating how he could even thank you for everything you did for him. Just listening to him was enough, but you went the extra step to dry his tears and invited him to stay for however long he wanted.

Was it that you knew he found comfort in you, your scent, your presence? Is there any way he could express his gratitude? Suddenly his own words came back, echoing like thunder inside his head. ‘I...couldn’t bring myself to use my quirk again,’ he held his breath and slowly lifted his free hand, turning it so he could gaze at his palm.

The sound of his and Touya’s laughter now softly echoed alongside his words. ‘It’s been years,’ he thought before he turned to glance at you, but ended up flinching when he realized you were already looking at him.

“Are you okay?” you questioned, now that everything was off his chest he should be, right? Then again, you have been wrong before. Natsuo almost seemed to be in a trace, though his eyes hadn’t left yours and his hand remained lifted in the air.

‘Would I even know how to control it? I can’t risk hurting Y/n but if this proves how thankful I am to them then…’ he finally seemed to make a choice and he slowly turned on his side causing the bed to shake along with his movements.

“Can I see your other hand for a moment?” he questioned, knowing that if anything did happen to go wrong with his quirk that he could use the basic knowledge he learned from his medical welfare classes to hopefully undo any damage.

“Hm?” you seemed a tad confused by his request and why he was holding his hand up, but once more you reminded yourself that Natsuo had no ill intentions. You maneuvered yourself on your side much like him and slowly held your free hand out.

Natsuo smiled and carefully connected your fingertips, then he took a deep breath. Channeling his long-forgotten quirk to the center of his palm, though he could feel the cold rush. It came as a surprise to you. In fact, the sudden drastic drop in temperature coming from Natsuo's hand was an utter shock.

Even knowing quirks existed, this almost seemed impossible. “N-Natsuo?” you worried something was very wrong when you felt it, the cold rough texture of tiny ice crystals growing across your skin. You almost wanted to pull away as there came a slight pulsing pain with the bitter coldness that was Natsuo's quirk.

But instead, you looked to your hand, your jaw was clasped closed and your eyes were wide. Too focused on those ice crystals that continued to grow and slowly frost over the top of your fingers. You stared in amazement.

“I...b-but you…” your words were all jumbled together and you almost missed the fact that Natsuo’s palm was covered in a thick lining of ice and how red the skin surrounding it was. Still, even if this brought him some minor discomfort.

He couldn’t help but smile as he watched your reaction, the small feeling of heartache numb for the moment and replaced with a small dose of happiness. Partly due to you and partly because he was relieved he could in fact control his quirk even after years of refusing to use it.

“I just wanted to say thank you for being there for me,” he stated and though still astonished, you glanced back at him. Even though the small mishaps would more than likely continue to happen as well as people that would attempt to use him for their own personal benefits. You somehow knew he was going to be just fine.

[that-wildwolf]

Fluffuary day 8 - napping together

James Vega didn't tire easily.

Like, sure, the missions lately had been tough, but most of the time, James found himself more or less standing on his feet afterwards. Some people weren't as steadfast as him, though. Commander Shepard, for example, had a habit of lying down as soon as an op was over. James wasn't sure if she simply needed more rest than normal people or if she wasn't getting enough on her downtime.

Today though, Shepard managed to outdo even herself, because as soon as the three of them were safely on the shuttle, both she and Garrus slipped into sleep, leaving him to stare at them in shock.

It wasn't the first time those two had fallen asleep on the shuttle ride back from a mission. Honestly, James was kind of impressed. It had to take a special kind of determination to manage to sleep on board a moving shuttle. Both the Commander and Garrus seemed to have that determination in themselves, because they were out within a few minutes.

Garrus unconsciously put his arm around Shepard as he slept and they straight up cuddled, seemingly unaware that they were both wearing heavy tactical armor. James just about gawked at them. Steve just shrugged, saying "they've been squeezing in some sleep like this for weeks".

It didn't look comfortable.

When they docked at the Normandy, he wasn't sure how to deal with those two still fast asleep. Tali peered into the shuttle — he was guessing because she was curious no one had left it yet.

"Again?" was all she said upon seeing the two sleeping in their seats.

James shrugged.

"No, no, leave them." Tali stopped him just as he was about to touch Shepard's arm and wake her up.

"But I—"

"Leave them," she repeated, still not raising her voice above a whisper. "Let them rest."

"The commander is severely exhausted," EDI noticed. "Perhaps letting her sleep will be the best course of action."

"I mean... Okay. If that's what you think is the best decision." He nodded. "But for the record, I think the shuttle isn't the best place for this kind of thing."

༺--------༻

"Garrus."

"You, uh, wanted to see me?" Garrus nervously stepped around. He didn't know what reason the doctor might have had to call him in to the medbay. He hadn't sustained any major injuries lately, and it wasn't time for his checkup yet.

"Yes." Doctor Chakwas offered him an encouraging smile. "Come in. It's okay."

Garrus nervously stepped into the medbay. The automatic door closed behind him with a hiss and even though he knew it would just as easily open if he approached it, he felt trapped somehow. He swallowed.

"Is... something wrong?" He clenched his mandibles, feeling strangely tense.

"It's about the Commander. More particularly, your current relationship with her."

Garrus decided that his fear was completely justified. Getting the sex talk from Mordin had been traumatizing enough; he didn't want to imagine what a human would have to say on that subject.

"Do you mean... anything in particular about our relationship?" Garrus all but shut his eyes. Please don't be about sex, please don't be about sex.

"It's about you two sleeping together."

Crap.

"We're... fine," he said weakly. He didn't want to go through that again. He didn't like the idea of discussing these things with Shepard, much less with someone outside of their relationship. "We, ah, don't... We're fine."

"Oh. Oh, no." The doctor laughed. Garrus just about gaped at her. "No. Oh, no. It's not... It's not like that. I meant you two taking those naps on the shuttle all the time."

"It's about that?" Thank the spirits. Garrus let out a relieved subvocal trill. "Is there something wrong? Are we not allowed to do that?"

"No, that's not at all the problem. There is no problem. In fact, I actually wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?" Garrus repeated, his mandibles flared out into an expression of utter confusion.

"Yes. Commander Shepard's not been sleeping well... I'm sure you've noticed." She raised an eyebrow and Garrus quickly nodded. "She's come to me with this problem a few times already, as a matter of fact. None of the solutions have worked... Until you started taking your little catnaps after missions, that is. So I really think that a thank-you is on order. Because apparently, you're the only thing that helps her fall asleep."

"Oh." Garrus clicked his mandibles. "That's... I'm, ah, honoured and all, but I don't see how that's relevant."

"You're struggling with insomnia too, aren't you?" Doctor Chakwas leaned back and laughed at his surprised expression. "Please. I've been treating you for years, Garrus. I can notice. Besides..." Her eyes darkened significantly. "You're not the only one here with this problem."

"I..." He clenched his mandibles. At this point there existed neither a way to preserve his dignity nor a reason to lie. "Yes."

"Look, I'm not going to tell you what you should do in your own relationship. I'm not going to interfere in that, it's none of my business. And I'm happy you're finally getting some sleep. But please... Maybe move the naps from the shuttle to the bedroom? It will be safer for everyone."

Garrus smiled.

"Yes, ma'am."

[actualbird]

Waking up to a new fic was an absolute delight and reading through it only made everything better.

Man I really feel Ria with the long weeks. And the extra long weekend because that's a brutal series of minor inconveniences. Did she ever manage to open the jar?

Absolutely love the reference to the latest chapter dfhigojg bashing reinforced plexiglass has nothing on not being able to open a jar. At least the exercise will help Ria in whatever new life threatening situation she ends up in.

WHY DOES DAVIS SAYING GET SHREDDED MAKE ME LAUGH

Artem listening to My Heart Will Go On dtidtid I adore this.

Artem's Wordle noooo. It's such a frustrating feeling that one's. Not valid it's not a shame-inducing thing but slightly more understandable!

I absolutely adore the shift from romance to Artem tripping over a crack in the pavement. The natural conclusion to seeing nothing but your crush.

The music swelled right when Ria caught him too I just realised dgidit

He's made worse excuses than "for charity"? Now I'm curious about those other excuses.

It's the all caps respectful in Artem's search that gets me the most.

You know what I can understand Marius' reaction. That was hot and I'll be unpacking why I think that too.

Teach Davis about creativity :(

WIKIHOW????? ARTEM PLEASE

Oh my god she knocked Luke out. What workouts is she doing I need those too. Absolutely adore Luke's reaction too xfuxu

Vyn using his universe-assigned accidents to his advantage is something I'm adopting as canon now.

RIA HOLY SHIT THE BRIDAL CARRY

Cgkcjg nice jab at Artem there Vyn.

I adore Davis and his stalker tendencies. Also he's right that the four boys are extremely entertaining to watch.

Excellent fic again!!!! Absolutely love the premise and all the boys swooning over a buff Ria. Thank you for writing this! I'm sorry if this seems a little messy cgidgk I'm not quite fully awake yet.

🌌

waaaaa gmorning, milkyway!! thanks for reading "baby, you're the man, but i got the power" OwO

pls dont apologize for anything omg, im HONORED u read this fic not 100% awake, kinda like a morning newspaper but theres no information about the world's events, just convoluted swooning over strength

ria's long week was honestly me projecting how ive been feeling lately kJBKJSDKJFSD!! sometimes weeks are just Like That :( tho unlike her, my weeks Like That never made me decide to start working out, LMAO.

SHE DOES EVENTUALLY OPEN THE JAR! in my mind, i assume that she took a frustration nap after the whole ordeal and when she woke up she had more strength to open it but she already committed to Operation Get Shredded

artem's wordle shame is also me projecting //SOBS. i havent done wordle in a while but it was my dream to have 3rd Row as my highest solves, but im not as smart as artem so my current standing is this

MY SHAME IS IMMEASURABLE

a knockout isnt too hard to do! a strong enough right hook to the jaw or temple is enough to jostle a person’s brain into temporary sleepytown. actually, most well placed blunt force trauma hits can result in a knockout (take it from me who had balance issues growing up and bashed my head EVERYWHERE at school for a few years. i basically lived in the clinic, i was always getting temporary sleepytown) 

usually, knockout punches actually just knockout a person for a few seconds, which is what happened to luke, and it’s super common in like, UFC MMA fights which i used to watch a lot as a kid. it’s this split second unconsciousness that leaves the opponent unguarded for a much stronger punch that can knockout for a much longer time. the head is just That Fragile and thats why guarding it is the most important thing to do in any kind of martial arts

but luke did not do that because hes a dumb dumb who underestimated ria and being completely unguarded and not braced for impact? SLEEPYTOWN, BOIIII!!! 

vyn got THE MOST shoujo anime romance scene in this fic, the lucky bastard!!!!!!!

thank u sm for the lovely ask, milkyway <3 im rlly glad u enjoyed the fic :D