#the trap 'happy people want to surround themselves w/ other happy people. they want radiant people. people for whom jokes come easy.

[project-ohagi]

Natsuo Todoroki x Reader - Christmas Scenario

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Trigger Warnings: Self-harm, Depression.

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The mirror was your greatest adversary, forever threatening to split your soul with its whispered words of discouragement and reality. Being doomed to suffer eternal torment behind it, never again realising the blinding rays of the sun, was something else entirely. Perhaps it was a curse, but the individual to place it upon you remained veiled in shadows. It was a miserable, meagre existence, but at least you hadn't the burden of responsibilities. Or...maybe you did. Maybe the tides had changed, while you slumbered, to further distort and fracture your heart. Apparently, those who peered into your reflective prison were unaware of the accompanying humanity - the personality amidst the inanimate glass. You had refrained from etching words on to it, and your vocal cords had long expired, so you became trapped, isolated, lonely.

For a time.

Thanks to your efforts, the mirror was partially broken. Baneful shards of glass were scattered at your feet, and your initial instinct was to use them. Not for a conventional purpose, but to inflict damage upon yourself, to embrace accountability for whatever transgressions you had committed. The jagged outlines cut almost cleanly through your flesh, but it still stung. You were frightened of the kiss, serpentine with its poison and dolour. It wouldn't hack too deeply, but it hurt like Hell. Tears streamed down your face, as you whimpered. Could nobody save you from this deplorable fate? You prayed to any gods listening, and to any heroes too. You feared and you suffered, perpetually.

Of course, the problems started far earlier than your confinement, however, it definitely served as a catalyst. People didn't search amongst the abyss to find your dwindling light, they couldn't understand your silent pleading. The mirror itself was ornate, and so garnered much attention, although customers often complained about a sudden surge of bile, a sick feeling boiling the pits of their stomachs. It never lasted long in one household, being sold off promptly to the highest bidder. Glass in hand, you proceeded to count the passing days - it had been exactly 1825 days (or 5 years) since the stars imprisoned you. No food had graced your lips, nor water, so you wondered how you still lived. Were you still living? Were you really alive, or was this simply a version of Hell? Purgatory? Was it a near-death experience? A plethora of questions wanted to leap from your tongue, but you subdued each one. Who would listen, after all? What a nasty shock it would be, to discover a human caged inside your mirror, being forced to watch daily, as women and men alike beautified or belittled themselves.

It felt like high school, all over again.

And, what if upon that most disturbing revelation, they (purposefully or accidentally) broke the mirror? To your knowledge, you hadn't experienced any side-effects at the barely-noticeable fragmenting of glass, but what would happen if the whole thing shattered? What would become of your body, if you even possessed one anymore? Sure, you comprehended a realism about yourself, but what did that actually mean? The senses are notoriously easy to fool, at the end of the day.

Someone picked up your mirror, lugging it across a pathway, surrounded by traditional Japanese statues, with a zen garden aesthetic. It was gorgeous, and for a moment, it relaxed your brain. Your new owner was a male, muscular and quite handsome. It alleviated your concerns a little, when his slanted eyes gazed into his own reflection, unknowingly encountering you. Actually, this one was stunning. Spiked, snowy hair protruded from his head, and his resting expression was somewhere between an angry scowl and a playful smile. Your cheeks heated up - he was (unintentionally) staring right at you! The bliss that enveloped you was other-worldly. Over time, you learned to wait with baited breath for his arrival, pretending that you were a housewife, taking his coat and asking about his day. Deep sighs escaped your lips, but they were far from sorrowful. He elicited a strange sensation within your very core - he made you want to speak up, to uncover more of his personal life, to tear the curtains from his eyes and allow your presence to be noted.

But...you couldn't. More than ever, the terror gripped you. What if he freaked out? Not only would you risk ruining your (admittedly) very slim chance with him, but you might be abandoned again.

Another few weeks strolled by, your toxic habits subsiding ever-so-slightly. Whenever those cloudy-coloured gemstones entered your mind, with an accusatory glint, you simply couldn't bring yourself to cut. And, when he removed his shirt...gods, those back muscles were so well-defined. But...for some reason, he always faced away from your mirror. Perhaps he was superstitious. When garlands of evergreen began littering his room, you knew that Christmas was fast approaching. There were bells and candy-canes decorating a fairly-large tree in the centre of the room. Tinsel wound around it haphazardly - the result of an almost-fatal struggle, during which your beloved caved. He seemed to have a vision of the perfect tree, but surrendered when everything went to shambles.

A gruff voice yelled his name, which was a lovely contrast to the wintry-themed room. You locked that valuable information in a safe, guarded box. Natsuo. It tasted heavenly. One day (you estimated it to be around the 18th December), he brought a plate of Christmas-inspired foods into his room. He located a perch mere inches from the mirror. He sat down the plate. He stared, focus morphing into fixation. Confusion contorted his beautiful face, as he shuffled forwards. You felt an urge to preserve the distance, so you stepped back as much as the abyss would permit.

No acclaimed literary could have wrapped their words around this moment, for it was indescribable. The floodgates of your heart splintered with the force of your repressed emotions. You cried crystalline tears, but you wished to chant carols of celebration. The warmth of mulled wine flowed through your veins, lacing into them an intoxication. Happiness bubbled away in your throat, and your hands struggled to suppress it.

"How did you get in there?" A single, angelic echo breathed new life into your withering soul.

A million snowflakes endeavoured to barricade your voice, but you needed this - you needed to speak. "I-I don't know...I've been in here for..." You glanced to your arm. "...around 5 years?"

Those radiant, grey irises widened in shock. "5 years...? And those scars..."

"They're okay!" You tried reassuring him. "They don't hurt anymore. This is just...it's a lot to take in."

Concern only grappled him tighter. "Is there any way to get you out? Ah, wait...if you knew that, you wouldn't still be stuck. I had a feeling something was up with this mirror. There are rumours that it's cursed or haunted, y'know? Well, I guess that's not wrong..."

"Is that why you never faced me while you changed?" You asked, not immediately realising how strange that sounded.

A dark crimson hue dusted his cheeks, and a stuttered response caressed the air.

"Y-Yeah...I didn't think you were watching, though."

You flushed. "Ah! I'm so sorry! I stepped out of line, again...wait a minute - how did you realise I was trapped in here? You never seemed to look too much, and no-one else saw me."

"I was w-watching..." His voice lowered, as embarrassment fluttered in his stomach. "...maybe a god did something nice for you? It is almost Christmas."

"No...four Christmases have already passed since I got here. If a god truly cared, wouldn't I already be out?" You questioned, tone assertive.

Natsuo paused, deep in thought. "Then...maybe it was me? I was feeling frustrated and lonely, so I prayed for an angel. I got you. You must be a blessing, right? And the fact that only I found you...that confirms it. You're my gift. So I'll help you. I'm no hero, but I'm sure I can figure something out." An adorably-bashful smile adorned his lips, as he added, "This is fate, I can feel it!"