Keys

Call of Duty: Nikto:

✤ The Shape series: The Shape (11/7/23) (2) Easing Into it (11/10/23) (3) Into the Hyena's Den (11/16/23) (4) Before the Sun Rises/Caught (11/23/23) (5) Unprofessional (12/17/23) (6) Everyone Has a Reason to Stay (Primireniye) (1/19/24) (Final) Gun Run (2/23/24)

✤ Yainiathrope (4/8/24)

✦Kissing Nikto Headcanons (2/7/24) ✦Domestic Headcanons with Nikto (2/26/24) ✦Life with Nikto and Sputnik (6/23/24)

✤oooh that one fic people voted on

Rodion: ✦General + Random Romantic Rodion Headcanons (2/7/24) ✦Rodion dealing with his partner's period (2/13/24) ✦General + Random Romantic Rodion Headcanons 2 (2/10/24) ✦Rodion and Chubby!Reader (2/20/24) ✦Rodion in Florida and Floridian!reader in Russia (2/24/24) ✦Rodion Helping You Get Ready (3/28/24) ✦Jealous Rodion Headcanons (3/28/24) ✦Rodion and Tatoo Artist!reader headcanons (4/6/24)

✦ Rodion and Best Friend reader series: Being Rodion's best friend (4/28/24) Rodion falling for his best friend (5/24/24) Rodion and his best friend kissing for the first time after they start dating (6/19/24) ➤Uncle Rodion ramble (7/10/24)

Bale: ✦General + Random Romantic Bale Headcanons (2/7/24) ✦Other Bale Headcanons (6/29/24) ✦Bale and Minotaur with kids who prefers the other brother (1/13/25) Whole MW2019 Spetsnaz: ✦Reader at the Beach with the spetsnaz (platonic w/everyone) (4/18/24) ✦Spetsnaz with boney reader (6/19/24) ✦ Spetsnaz and reader at a theme park (7/10/24) ✦Spetsnaz with reader that finds all animals cute (9/25/24) ✦Spetsnaz as father figures (1/4/25) ✦Spetsnaz as fathers who find out their daughter had a boyfriend they weren't aware of (1/10/25) ✦Spetsnaz with coworker who has a mouth like Mileena MK1 (1/12/25) ➤Fastest to fold to his daughter's puppy-dog eyes (1/13/25)

Valeria: ✦General + Rondom Romantic Valeria Headcanons (2/7/24)

Graves: ✦Graves/F!Russian reader (2/7/24) ✦Graves and a short partner (2/7/24) ✦Graves and kid that envies him (1/13/25)

Velikan: ✦General + Random Romantic Velikan Headcanons (2/8/24) Farah: ✦General Farah Headcanons with a mic of period comfort (2/20/24)

Five Nights at Freddy's: ✤ In the Eye of the Beholder (12/6/24) SCP: ✤ Cujo and Laika (12/22/23)

✤ Sneak Peak :) (1/21/24)

✤ Redemption (And the concept of the “Russian Soul", as they pride themselves on) (2/5/24)

✤ Thanatophobia (2/16/24)

✤ Sweet Tea and Kvass (3/27/24) ✦Singular Clef headcanon posted as a joke (2/10/24) ✦Clef and Dmitri Headcanons because they mean obsurdly much to me (2/8/24)

➤My like 13 page breakdown of Clef and Dmitri (4/12/24)

Choso takes a deep, labored breath, his heart pumping as he gasps for air. Oh, how nice it is to be free, to move his legs, his arms, to feel his lungs burn with oxygen. These past few months have been near heavenly, learning how to put his century and a half of thinking into action. Human beings are so complex, and there's so much to learn, so many subtleties he's yet to grasp.

He could only think before. Melt away into his innate domain to learn. Now, he really did things. He flexed his muscles, he ran, he laughed and cried and felt true pain. His physical form aches, his cursed energy spent, as he stands there. A bit lightheaded from the blood loss as he closes in on his limit. Blood flows down his cheeks, dripping from his hair and staining his boots. It was messy, filthy, gory. Even the strongest stomach would turn at the sight, twist at the copper sting in wafting off of him. But he had to train this hard. He had people to protect, mistakes that he had to stop from making again. He takes in another gasp of air and stands back to his full height. Using the small amount of cursed energy left in him, he pulls the blood up from his shoes and into his hands. The warmth slides against his palms. He breathes out slow, until there's only just enough in his lungs and closes his eyes. He sees Yuji there, smiling and calling out "Choso!", and it steels him. His arms shake with effort as he tries to squeeze out a little more strength.

"Big Brother?" Yuji's voice breaks the silence, the focus Choso had spent so long building up. The blood splatters onto the floor with a sick squelch. Choso spins around, eyes wide in shock. Yuji looks a bit concerned - and a little tired - but he grins back. "Hey, that worked," he speaks softly, walking closer.

Choso looks… rough, if Yuji had any right to say that. He's worried. Yuji's been watching him push further and further, without caring for himself. His eyes are wild, hair soggy with blood. The same crimson stains the white sleeves of his robe. His breathing pulls his chest each way violently, to the point that his shoulders jolt as well.

"Yes, Yuji?" He asks, his voice strained with breathlessness in a way that exacerbates his usual husk.

"You should come in," Yuji replies. "Get some sleep… maybe a shower?" His brow furrow in worry. Something that pulls on Choso's already speeding heart. He's the older brother. Yuji had no business worrying for him.

Thunk…

Thunk…

Thunk…

Choso's footsteps are heavy. He doesn't yet know how to walk quietly, the sound echoing through the dull, empty halls of Tokyo Jujustu Tech. The visual makes Yuji a bit sad, even though he knows that it isn't much different than when he first came here. Perhaps it was the fresh eyes, considering the events of the past few days. The loses were burned into everyone's minds, and it made the quiet turn into silence. The deafening kind, where you loose your sense of touch and start seeing things, too.

Choso is kinda heavy against him. His breathing is a bit more normal now, but he isn't speaking. It seems to Yuji like they're both lost in thought, thinking of the things that happened. It must be hard on him, to loose two brothers and then feel the need to switch allegiances to the guy that did it.

Yuji doesn't notice that they've stopped until Choso speaks again. A deep, heavy, "You don't need to wait for me." It confuses him for a long moment, before he realizes that he was trying to drag the other man forward.

"Oh," He mumbles, looking around. "We're here," He announces, trying to hide his embarrassment. The changing room just before the showers. Jujutsu Tech was old, and combined with the dorms it made sense to Yuji they still had public showers on campus. Choso smiles at him, chuckling to himself. "But… we're brothers..?" Yuji responds to Choso, though he's unsure. Yeah, the half-curse insisted he could feel their connection in his blood stream, and he was a nice guy and all… Yuji was glad not to be fighting him anymore, too. But he still feels a bit of hesitation at the use of such a term.

"I'm older," Choso argues.

Yuji cocks his head, "Does that change anything?"

Choso looks scandalized, as if Yuji had said something truly criminal. "Of course it does!" He exclaims in horror. "It's my job to care for you!" He narrows his eyes after saying that. Now he's looking. Yuji isn't sure this is how normal brotherhood looks, but he feels like he's done something wrong. "Did you sleep well?" Choso asks. Yuji clears his throat and shuffles his feet. His shoulder is wet now, cooling down rapidly.

"Well," Yuji starts hesitantly. He hasn't. It was clear Choso hadn't either, his eye bags darker than before.. But Yuji was also sure no one else was. Everyone was training hard. Everyone felt like they had a job to do, one they had to be stronger for. "Have you?" He retorts.

Choso goes quiet. He believes that the older brother is the role model. His eyes fell to the floor. Choso things hard for a long moment, trying to finds a way to correct this horrible misgiving.

"Yuji," He grumbles, still looking at the floor. Yuji lets out the hum he always makes when his tilts his head to the side, so Choso looks up. He's right, of course. But where Choso may be failing in being a good human, he refuses to fail in being a good brother. "Go to sleep," he speaks firmly.

"Big brother," Yuji whines back, playing the brotherly role to keep Choso engaged. Everyone needed to be at their best.

"No," Choso keeps his tone firm. "Go to bed," His eyes narrow sharply. "and I'll make breakfast," He watches as Yuji sighs.

"Oh," He hums, pretending to think hard about the statement. "Oooohkay, I guess," he huffs dramatically. "And you sleep good too," He steps back.

Partway through turning, hand grabs his shoulder. Firm,, tight. A crushing grip he's experiences before. It makes his heart race. He swallows hard, turning his head back to Choso.

"Uhm —"

"Give me you jacket," He interrupts stiffly.

"What?" Yuji's asks, not looking into the other's eyes.

Choso cocks his head, innocently and lacking an understanding of Yuij's sudden worry. "It has a stain," he responds as if it's obvious. "I'm going to wash it."

Yuji's face lights up and his shoulders ease, "Oh- ah- okayy," he sighs. He does his best to slip his hand off, avoiding the still tight grip on his jackets shoulder. Once he wriggles free, Choso pulls the fabric close, folding it as best he can. The two stare at each other, both unsure what to say. Neither really had experience being a brother. "uhmmm… goodnight..?" Yuji offers.

Choso smiles softly in response. "Goodnight, brother."

-

"Choso..?"

"Brother…."

"Big Brother! What are we up so early?" Yuji rubs his eye, his now-clean jacket thrown over his shoulders in an attempt to keep him warm. Choso moves, loud and fast through the halls. They don't seem so sad and empty now, but Yuji is only half awake and the rushing is keeping him frown thinking about it.

"Having breakfast," Choso answers, brushing Yuji's hair down flat. Yuji shakes his head after, the hair sticking back up.

"But it's early," Yuji complains. "No-one else is even up yet!" Choso chuckles at that, the bickering warming his heart.. It was so nice, to have a normal moment with his brother.

"I'm sure someone is," He shakes his head, looking out the windows the two are walking past. "But that doesn't matter. It's brother-time." He smiles, staring up proudly at the fresh sun rays. Choso slows. Yuji grins back, a bit awkwardly, but still trying to connect with him.

Choso takes him to a kitchen Yuji hadn't been to before - Yuki had shown the former - and sits him down with heavy insistence. The older brother is the caretaker. Yuji winces as he watches Choso chop the vegetables, the movement rough and unexperienced. Yuji wasn't the worlds best cook, but he had to make it through somehow. The loud banging with each rough cut was jolting his heart beat.

Choso stands over the stove. He was taught how to use it recently, but he's still a bit clumsy. He slept last night - he said he would, he had to be a good role model - but not as much as he should. He had to look through the recipe books, and do the laundry. He makes sure to make a large, nutritious breakfast. Being a good brother required more than just being strong. He steams the rice, fries vegetables and fish, and plates some natto for the two of them. It takes a while, but once he's done he can't help but feel proud.

He places each thing on a plate, like he had watched others do. He turns around, holding the fish plate tightly in both hands. Yuji sits at the table, his head on his arms. His back moves in a slow, gentle rhythm - he's out.

Choso shakes his head. The plate lands gently on the table as he places it by Yuji's head. He moves, but Choso already knows he's a heavy sleeper.

"Yuji," Choso calls, shaking his brother's shoulder. The kid chokes and sits up.

"I'm-" He coughs, "up. I'm up!" Choso slides the fish plate forward with a comforting smile. Yuji returns the look, "Oh, thank you," he pauses for a moment. "Big Brother."

They cut out the walkdown from Metamorphosis, which I was actually sad about, and they cut out the Takada beating too :((

BUT the Itadori's Extermination arc episodes were SOO good ! I had read the manga parts of it, and I resally enjoyed how they handled it. The animation was very pretty, and I loved the way they handled Naoya's technique, and Choso's too! The blood was soo beautiful

Glad to have Choso's development on screen fonally so ppl can stop lying on his name about having no personality

And its pretty hard to call Yuta a bitch/bum when hes actually really cool here on out :// damn it Yuta

BUT the scene where Choso pops out of the dark right next to Megumi is much less freaky than the manga. I didnt get any pictures, but he kinda steps into the light as opposed to leaning forward out of the darkness like a freak

Mahito appeared to you a while back. You had kind of lost track by now, to be honest.

He was an escape artist. He came and left as he pleased, with no care of how it affected you. Woke up in the middle of the night with the front door to your apartment open because he left? He pops out of nowhere just to get a good whiff of fear? He leaves you alone for three days with no notice or sign he showed up while you were gone, causing you to feel like you lost your puppy, but most people can't see him, so lost signs are ineffective? He doesn't care! You're a toy to him, one he leaves strewn about when he's bored.

His backstory isn't any less of a mystery to you. You knew the basics about him: he wasn’t human, he transfigured the forms of himself and others by changing the shape of their soul, and he could (comfortingly) see into yours. Yep. No privacy with him. Not to mention his abject dissent at the mere concept of sex. He knew what it was; he understood it formed society. And while interested in it from a scientific standpoint, he simply did not care about “modesty” or “propriety”, and thus he dictated you shouldn’t either. You are not to be embarrassed by him breaking down the door while you're naked - he just wants to talk, and you're making it weird. But you aren't stupid. You know about the incident last year, on Halloween night. You had to evacuate for a while, even. And between the damage, as well as seeing curses your whole life, you think you know an outline of what went down. More than that, Mahito was there, at least for some of it.

But he wouldn't talk. Mentions of last year were met with a strict, heavily enforced, cold shoulder. A silent treatment, too, as the cherry on top. The last time you asked, he was gone for a week. One thing you knew, however, was that he hated the cold.

Your bratty, unofficial roommate had made a lot of changes. Mostly books stacked on tables that you definitely didn't buy, but more upsettingly, your heat bill was going up. A lot. Anytime he came in, whether you were there or gone for work, he would turn up the thermostat. And, apparently, you didn't play a good pissed-off “don't touch my thermostat!” dad character. You couldn't scare the habit out of him. Your heating was expensive and rare enough. You didn't need him hiking it up for you.

You come home after a long day at work, and find - upon taking off your shoes - that the heater is on, the floor warm. He is laying on your couch, reading a collection of short stories from a famous author. You’re familiar with many of them, having read some when you were in school. Most of them were rather bleak, though. But, he didn’t go to school, so he had to catch up, you suppose. He slips a bookmark between the pages, leaving it politely on the table. He always treated those damn books better than you. Then, he sprang up with a sound of joy.

“You’re back!” He cheers, clapping as he moves over to you. “I waited for sooo long,” He pouts, attaching himself to you. His head lies on your shoulder. Despite the now stark heat of your apartment - and it’s hot outside, too - he’s cold against your skin. Mahito didn’t have his own body heat, so he felt much like a snake in a warm room as opposed to anything warm-blooded. “You’re always at work,” He continues, pulling at your button-up. He seems to think he’s helping you get ready for his favorite pastime when he does this - sleeping in your bed and keeping you up all night. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t need to sleep, but he seems to be capable of it if he wants to. He snuggles up to you, disrupting the nice warmth of your own body. You sigh, letting him unbutton your shirt.

“I have to pay for your heat,” You grumble tiredly as he tugs your shirt off with another low sound. While he’s distracted, you slip into your bathroom. You started putting your sleep clothes in here for after work, after getting trapped into sleeping in your work clothes a couple of times. Sleeping naked has become an increasingly uncomfortable prospect - not just under threat of him dissecting you or poking spots you’d like to keep personal - but as he gets colder over the nights.

You aren’t sure what’s happening, but as it turns from summer to fall, Mahito seems to be getting antsy. He isn’t great with plenty of emotions, but his stress and fear seem to be something he can’t really handle. He’s a very avoidant type, and you’ve noticed how he’s getting more sensitive about what sets off his silent treatments. You mentioned a movie - some dumb body horror you were sure he’d love - and he had huffed at you and got off the couch instead of his usual almost childlike excitement at horror films. While he could avoid it when awake, he had much less control when he was asleep.

Maybe it was something to irritate you at first, but him actually falling asleep near you despite not needing it had let you in on his past more than he ever would when awake. Sometimes he mumbled out things that sounded like names, and he would roll all over the bed, including you. Along with that, no matter what, he seemed to be overcome with a biting chill. It didn’t matter if the heater was on and you were wrapped up against him in three blankets - he was freezing against your skin. This was keeping you up even more than he moving. Room temperature is a bit annoying; bare ice on your flesh gets painful after a while.

But you were too scared to tell him that. Despite the fact that he definitely is planning to kill you at some point, and he probably won’t be sad, and - eww, is that a human on your sink? God, you thought you told him not to leave his transfigured humans everywhere - really, you should probably hate him, you can’t help but not. He’s so… cute. Big, wide eyes, his little pout. You’ve started pretending to be illiterate, standing there and stammering over a word you know, so he can pop up and correct you. He’ll even break down what each part of it is, if it’s in Kanji. He looks so happy when he does, his grin splitting his face in a way that’s probably unnerving to others. It makes you happy. Maybe it’s Stockholm syndrome, maybe it’s human pack-bonding, maybe it’s romanticization of the fact that he doesn’t need to do menial human work and can go wherever he wants. All in all, you can’t help but feel wounded whenever he plays the silent treatment card. The idea that he would pull back for any reason really hurts.

So, you’re just ignoring it. It will go away soon. Sometime. At longest, when spring rolls around. He likes spring, he likes the heat and humidity. Everything's going to be okay. You sigh, now in comfortable clothing and cleaned.

He's in your bed already when you exit. That’s a bit abnormal, too. Normally, he likes to wait for you to get nice and toasty before disrupting it. He treats the book very gently, careful not to bend the back too far. He’s wrapped up, though the blanket is falling from his shoulder, and his shawl is off. You’ve come to favor that. Who knows what’s on that fabric? You should wash it. Maybe he’ll like it fresh out of a dryer, nice and warm? The thought is a little cute. You make your way around the bed, crawling in next to him. His hair is kind of everywhere, and you question if he’s figured out the secret of ponytails or buns yet. Though if it bothered him, you guess he could probably transfigure it shorter.

“Why’d the spider string snap?” He asked when the bed dipped, barely looking up.

You pause, stiffening. What? Oh, oh, the book! You’d spaced out for a moment, looking at him. “Because he was selfish, yeah?” You respond, even though it’s been a while since you read the story.

“Okay, but,” Mahito closes the book, leaning up to look at you. “All humans are selfish,” He replies, a bit of disgust in his tone. It sounds more personal than you were expecting ever to come from him.

You take a moment, “Well… because you’re supposed to read it and think, ‘maybe I shouldn’t be so selfish anymore”. It’s a moral,” You explain, watching his face. His brow furrows slightly, in a look that is much more childish than he’d ever want to present, like a baby who doesn’t like the food you just fed it.

“A moral?” He asks, thinking for a moment. “Humans are so strange,” He murmurs, looking down at the cover. It’s a rather creepy piece of art to go along with such important stories, but you know that doesn’t bother him. You stare down at it for a moment with him as the day catches up to you. Your eyes start to get heavy.

“Mahito-kun,” You mumble, blinking your eyes open. He hums in response, but he doesn’t turn to you. “You’re hogging my blankets,” You continue, tugging at the blanket. He grumbles, rolling away from you so you can’t take it. “Mahito!” You whine. “If I freeze to death, my soul will go away!”

You squeak in surprise as he tugs you under the covers, a second set of arms pulling at you. He hides you under his chin, freezing skin burning at yours. Oh. Bad idea. You, hands shaking, scoot closer and wrap an arm around him. Mahito looks down at you, a bit of tension in his face. It was impossible to hide things from him, but you still try. It’s human nature, in a way, to hide your real thoughts and feelings. He huffs, shoving the blanket off rather roughly.

“You’re awful at lying,” He grumbles, rolling onto his back. That was how he liked to sleep normally, anyway. You stare at him in silence for a little bit, before getting comfortable again. Okay, he was clearly mad at you. And that means he was going to give you the silent treatment? What if he’s gone in the morning? What if he leaves for a week again? Or he never comes back?

And, again, almost no one you know can see him. It’s apparently very rare to be able to, so.. you can’t tell anyone. You haven’t told anyone! You wouldn’t be able to act too sad because people would question you, and you’d have to come up with a lie, and what if, in your grief, you retell the story wrong, and then someone notices and they think you’re doing it for attention, and they get mad at you, and everyone hates you now? You take a deep breath, a bit of pain in your chest from holding it, and then readjust to be even more comfortable. It’s okay. It’s okay! Maybe, maybe if you sleep it off, it will be like nothing happened and he won’t be angry anymore!

…You need to sleep to do that.

Despite his ability to perceive your soul and the fact that Mahito has noticed much smaller changes in your mood from much further away, he seems to be firmly asleep next to you. Maybe this is just him avoiding you? No, no, you can’t stay up like this! You have work in the morning.

It takes about an hour of fighting with your own mind to fall asleep. Despite that, it seems Mahito has no mercy for you. About an hour after that, you wake up to freezing skin on yours and a knee to the shin. What the fuck?

You blink your eyes open, barely awake. “Mahito-kun,” you grumble. This is just plain rude - he has to worry you so much you can’t fall asleep, and then he wakes you up like a needy cat! You see him jolt away from you, spread out over the sheets. He whimpers in his sleep, a sound of… fear.

Mahito feels fear? You guess it isn’t that shocking, but… he was always so… whimsical? Not menacing, despite having seen what he’s capable. He just seems too chiper to be scared and yet… He thrashes around in a way that becomes much more concerning when you wake up more.

“Mahito-kun,” You mumble, reaching over. You hiss the second your hand meets his shoulder. He’s cold. Beyond freezing at this point - like dry ice, your skin sticks to him for a moment after contact. You pull back to see your skin already a bit irritated. Oh God, oh God, you bite your lip and look up at him. A name falls from his lips, one you aren’t familiar with. Tears start to sting your eyes. He’s been having nightmares. And you have been ignoring that fact entirely so he wouldn’t get mad and leave, but he’s so, so cold. What if he’s dying? Maybe some kind of virus evolved to live in curses. Or, oh, fuck, what if world peace just got achieved and so he’s dying because humans don’t hate each other and you’re sad about that? You’re crying over world peace and all problems being fixed? You want people to be evil? Want them to hate each other? You let out a soft sniffle. “Mahito-kun, please wake up,” You whisper, sitting up. He thrashes again, but he doesn’t seem to be awake.

You swallow disgustingly thickly, tears spilling down your cheeks. He’s just pranking you… making you feel bad for being cold. You take a deep breath. It doesn’t make you feel better. Okay, hold on. Think about it. You can’t save Mahito from whatever is going on if you sit here and cry.

What’s the problem? He seems to be having a nightmare and is far below freezing. The two are probably connected. He can manipulate his soul. Maybe, the nightmare is so visceral it’s triggering his technique without him knowing? So, he’s cold to his very soul.

Maybe if you physically warm him, it will help? Okay, how to warm someone up.

You get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. You take a large mixing bowl and a few cleaning rags. You aren’t sure if they’ll have to be sacrificed after this, but at least they can’t give him a blood infection. Probably.

You use the bathtub to fill the bowl with warm - not too hot - water, soaking the rags. Then, you carefully carry it to Mahito’s side. You take one rag, wring and fold it, and place it on his forehead. He turns again at the touch.

“No, Mahito-kun,” Your voice wavers, despite your attempt to stay collected. “You have to stay with me, okay?” You readjust his head so the rag stays put. Then, you prepare a second one, pacing it lightly on his chest. “Warm up, please,” You mumble gently rubbing his skin with the rag, above where his heart would be. Suddenly, your hand sinks in. You gasp, eyes squeezing shut. Ow, ow, ow.

It's so cold it hurts, and it's definitely not empty. You feel blood on your hand, and what seems to be organs too. Or maybe it’s just transfigured humans? Gross. Why does he keep them like that? But isn't the soul inside? You try another deep breath. This is good.

Maybe.

He wants you to help..? You curl over yourself, trying to distract the pain in your hand. It's less than a minute before you pull your hand out, rushing to put it in the water bowl. You let out a hiss, still clutching the rag. Shit, he's cold enough to give you frostbite. You twitch your fingers. You really can't afford that right now. Your job isn't greatly accommodating; severe frostbite might make you “not a good fit” anymore. And then you'll get fired. And then you couldn't pay the heating bill and Mahito…

“Mahito-kun,” You whisper, looking down at him. You take the rag off his forehead with your uninjured hand, taking a new one and doing your best to wring and fold it one-handed, but it's much wetter. “You have to wake up.” You don’t let yourself think about the idea that he isn’t going to be there, running your heat bill up. It’s okay. He isn’t human. He’s a curse, and he can’t be sick. He isn’t sick or dying, everything is okay. “Wakey, wakey. I-I’m sorry I stole the blanket, I can…” You pause. What could you do to make him stop? “I’ll get you a new book, okay? No matter what, even if it’s really expensive.”

He whimpers again, “Geto,” He speaks softly. That same name again, this time more desperate. Is he calling out for help? Who is that? Whoever it is, isn't here. You are. Your hand isn't so numb anymore, so you pull another rag out. You only have three, but you can make it work. You'll get more if you need to. You wring this one out well, hand burning at the friction.

Trying to warm him inside was a bust, but his technique comes from his hands. You wrap one hand with this, and then repeat the action with your last rag on the other.

Come on. Warm up, warm up. Please. You can’t shoulder your way into someone’s life and then die, that’s not fair—

Your name comes, in a soft whisper and wet fabric hitting your formerly clean bedsheets. “Cold….” He grumbles, his touching your empty spot becoming more frantic as he realizes you aren’t there.

“Mahito-kun,” You reply, unable to hold back your pure, unbridled joy that he is awake now. He jolts up and away from your voice, eyes snapping open.

“What are you doing over there?” He asks, grumpily, as he glares at you. He always hated it when he somehow missed something, especially about a soul he knew so well. Your laugh breaks into a sob as you collapse onto him to hug him nice and tight.

“Mahito-kuuun!” You wail, smothering him. He flails, the wet rags getting pressed against your sides as he grips you. “You…” You pause, looking at him. Well, you can’t just tell him he had a nightmare and was unconsciously manipulating his soul to be far below freezing and you got minor frostbite.

“I hurt you?” He asks, blinking up wide-eyed. He doesn’t sound sad or worried, though, a little bit of elation in his tone. “In my sleep? I’m good enough to transfigure in my sleep?” He giggles. He sprouts a new pair of hands to find wherever the wound is. “Though I'm definitely better when I'm awake. There’s not a big disruption in your soul at all.” He pauses when his hand covers yours and you jump at the touch, hot pain searing your skin from the minimal friction. “Hmm?” He pulls it up to see.

There's a solid three minutes of Mahito looking at your hand, signs of frostbite still present despite you treating it, and thinking over what could have happened. There’s no disruption, no change, no whole. This wasn't caused by his technique at all - this was a human wound. Something naturally occurring. But not in a nicely heated (thanks to him) home. Not in bed, before winter, when there's hardly a chill to the air.

“I didn’t do this,” He declares. While it’s hard to tell where Mahito’s lines of what makes him sad are, you can tell he’s much more somber than he was before. He looks up at your face, and you know he's looking past that, at your soul. You swallow, trying to seem stern.

“Who's Geto?” You ask. His hand pulls away, but you pin his shoulder down to stop him from getting up.

“You're scared—”

“Who's Geto?” You ask more firmly. “You were asking for Geto in your sleep. Who is that?” You glare down at his face. He frowns, and for a moment, you're sure this is it.

You briefly hope he at least folds your soul into something pretty.

But there's no pain or fading of consciousness. Instead, all you hear are tiny sobs. Not the sobs of a man past his breaking point - the sobs of someone who has never cried like that before. Who doesn’t know what they're doing, even when it's a natural, unstoppable impulse.

“Hey, hey,” You speak, looking down at him. He's covering his face with the back of his arms now, like a child. You reach out and wrap your arm around his forearm, stroking the skin there with your thumb. “Look at me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” When you try to encourage him to move his arms, he flips around and doubles over, leaving you outside of his vulnerability and looking at his back.

“You're mean! The worst toy I've had!” He snaps, and you sigh. Mahito wasn’t good at strong emotions, he rarely felt them and was only capable of processing them for a short amount of time. He often came off like a kid like this, and you weren't sure how to help.

“I wasn't trying to upset you, Mahito-kun,” You reply, trying to comfort him.

“Yes, you were!” He snaps back. Okay, you wanted him to respond. Is that a crime?

“I was worried,” You try again, cupping his shoulder. His skin makes your injured hand scream out. “You were crying out and…” He seems to perk up at that. “And I care about you, Mahito-kun. You might see me as a toy, but… I see you as a friend,” You lean forward, wrapping the blanket around him.

“I never met him,” Mahito mumbles, sniffling. “I met a cheat and a liar and..” He relaxes slightly. “I was never scared before,” You slip an arm underneath his. “And then.. he,” Mahito takes your injured hand in his, staring down at it. He can tell you're in pain when he squeezes it. “He tried to absorb me,” He finishes. You place your hand on his chest. “He said he would help, but he tried to absorb me.”

You lean in closer. A shiver runs through you at the contact, even through your. shirt. He’s warmer than before, but colder than when he's happy.

“He isn’t here,” You try. “Just me. I'm here.”

He lifts his head slightly, squeezing your hand as you fight back a wince. “You're jealous,” He comments, slightly amused.

“You were calling for him,” You can't deny it, not with him paying such close attention to your soul. You lean even closer. His head tilts down. You sigh. “Don't… don't push yourself,” You tell him. His shoulders are still shaking, and you feel bad. “Just… try to warm up, okay?”

He doesn’t respond, but you feel his temperature change. Warmer, but then it faulters. He sniffles again, whispering your name as if he expects you're asleep.

“Yes?” You ask, still doing your best to help him warm up.

“Can we go lay on the floor?” He asks, voice still raw. You nod, patting at his chest and pulling back. He scoots out of bed, pulling the pillow he was laying on with him. He slips his book carefully off the nightstand, having slipped out of the wet rags at some point. You take a moment longer. You collect all of the rags, place them in the bowl and carry it to the kitchen. The water is a little bloody from when you put a towel in his chest, but that’s okay. You then go back, taking the other pillow off of the bed and the blanket, dumping them on the floor next to Mahito.

He's curled up in a spot on the floor of your living room, holding the book like a stuffed animal. You leave, taking out extra blankets. With some fiddling, you end up spooning Mahito on the floor, wrapped in about three blankets. He’s slowly getting warmer. He'll never be warm, but at least he isn’t icy anymore.

Mahito pulls at your hair like an elementary school bully while you try to keep a semi-straight face. The doctor blinks at you blankly. Bright, medical lights flood the room, a dull fan somewhere in the background.

“This is frostbite,” He says, looking at your hand. You nod, trying an awkward smile when he still stares at you with no expression. He sighs after a moment, clicking his pen closed again. Perhaps he thinks you had some dumb bet with a coworker. “Well, you seem to be fine. It was a minor case, after all. I’ll prescribe you something for the pain and to prevent infection.”

“Yes,” Mahito gives a rough yank on your hair. “Thank you, Doctor,” You reply, trying not to react at all. You take the paper from the doctor with your uninjured hand.

Site-19 was larger than you could ever imagine. You worked at a dinky site back in your home country, and now you were bundled up as you entered into the largest Site in the whole of the Foundation. The middle of Siberia was beautiful, coated in a thick, untouched layer of snow. The kind that's so perfect it makes you want to run off and ruin it, some primal itch that has you having to take a deep breath to root yourself to the ground where you’re walking in.

You’ve heard so much about this place, all the stuff that they house here and the names of the people that work there. So many of them are well-known and famous, even if many of them went between -19 and -17 often.

It was some big celebration, something classified the 05s are doing. Maybe building a new Site? Maybe something big like -19? You don’t know, to be honest. That’s how it works, they make you do something and yet never explain why to you because it’s “classified”. However, you knew how rare it was to ever even see Site-19 in person, despite how many people worked there.

The Foundation had many, many, many, employees. Some worked on the various smaller Sites, some on Site-19, and there was a small portion of people who worked in government facilities as double agents. You don’t know a lot about that, never having done it. Again, classification makes information harder to pass between people. You pass by the outside training area, following the flood of people that are spilling into the entrance of the Site. You, however, pause as you hear a shout over the landscape. You turn, looking through the fences as you catch the movement of people running on the track. At first, you feel bad for the agents out there. It’s freezing, and you know that your body warms up as you work out, but still. In the snow?

Then you see the man yelling. He’s standing off to the side, a black mass on the ground that is probably a jacket of some form. His shirt is tight, a size or two too small considering how obviously buff he is. He’s facing away from you, so you can only see the way the shirt is stretched over his back and arms.

“Checking out Strelnikov?” A voice comes from behind you, and you flinch back. You whip around to see who is pointing this out. A woman, with blonde hair pulled back into a lab-safe style stands behind you. You think for a moment, trying not to embarrass yourself.

“No,” You shake your head quickly, trying to stop yourself from blubbering or stammering over any words. “I was just curious about what they were doing outside in the cold here, and he’s barely clothed!” It isn’t inherently true, he is fully clothed, just thinly. There’s snow on the ground for god’s sake, and yet he’s standing there in just a t-shirt.

“That’s what the nurses say, too,” The woman huffs. “And the Site-17 medbay is always understaffed.”

You look away. Back to Strelnikov - while you’re trying to remember where you’ve heard that name before - so you don’t have to admit to this stranger the truth about what you’re thinking.

“Does it matter?” You ask her, trying to take control back, or at least seem semi-stable and capable of taking control of situations. You catch the movement of her shaking her head from the corner of your eye.

“I wasn’t trying to embarrass you,” She replies, even though you’re fairly certain that is a lie. “You were just in the way. Plenty of people do that often. You couldn’t imagine the struggle I have trying to find him when something is important.”

You furrow your brow and turn back to her, “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, he’s always sleeping around,” She shrugs, saying it as if it means nothing. “You should go inside, you’ll be able to check him out at the party, well,” She cracks a smile, before starting to walk away. After a moment of standing there, you follow her, deciding not to stand in the way of anyone else.

You look nice, you can say that. Fancy clothes, nicely fitted. You can afford it now that you work at the Foundation. You don’t need them often, but everyone is dressed well now. A little too well dressed to be at something that could be described as this - people were drunk, obviously so, as well as dancing dirty. You squeeze past a couple, making your way to the bar. You order from the nice, grinning bartender who makes your drink as quickly as possible.

A hulking form moves in next to you as you're handed your drink. “Стопка,” A deep, gruff voice orders the bartender. You turn, looking back at the man behind you. His face is broad, his bone structure prominent. His hair is short, buzzed on the side, and grays are starting to spring up in the roots of his hair. He's in a simple, white undershirt with no jacket. It's slightly too small for him, showing off the defined musculature underneath - nothing unusual for the career path you had chosen, but still noticeable with his age.

“Of course, sir,” The bartender responds cheerfully. He pours a shot - and then a few more - before placing them in front of the man.

“And the usual for the bastard,” He huffs, waving his hand. He reaches out, taking the first shot in one expert gulp. He slams the glass down, glancing to you once he does. A brief glimpse of amusement graces his face, his teeth glinting metallicly in the light. His eyes shine mirthfully, “Hello,” He greets, scanning over your features. When you go to meet his eyes, his gaze slides against yours, missing making direct contact. You can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, but it does give you a good look at his long eyelashes and shiny, grey eyes. He reaches his hand up, but he doesn’t touch you, “Sorry, I did not mean to crowd you, hm?” He moves back a bit, giving you more space. Something about it was oddly charming.

“It’s okay,” You reply, scooting your chair to give him more space. He once again fills the space, taking a second shot. You feel the butterflies from earlier return, as you look over him. You debate, for a long moment, before you take a long breath. “What's your name?” You ask, trying to sound more confident than you actually are.

“Strelnikov, Dmitri Arkadeyevich,” He practices in a trained manner, something you can tell he repeats every time he introduces himself. Not that you're thinking about it over the fact that this is the guy you were totally checking out earlier. When he offers his hand, you take it. You almost expect from looking at him - rough, nearing fifties, Russian man who has some military training - that his grip would be hand-breaking, painful. But he's surely aware of your bones. It's by no means gentle, but you know this construction is far from as tight as he could go. You tell him your name, and he briefly smiles. “Nice name, very fitting,” His accent causes the words to have a stiff, staccato sound to them.

The more pieces that came together the more and more you feel you're fighting not to kick your legs and giggle. You shift on the stool, as he asks you simple questions. Just getting to know you stuff: “What Site do you work at?”, “What department are you in?”, but the conversation is cut short. The drink is handed to him, and he checks it over. It looks terrible and smells just as bad, but it isn't for him.

“It appears I must go. Clef will be unhappy if he waits any longer,” He tells you, apologetically. So that's what you know him from. “But, if you would like,” He shrugs. “My room number is 6299, on the personnel level,” He tells you as if it's the most casual thing in the world. “Knock and I will answer.”

He leaves without waiting for a response, disappearing into the crowd.

BALE:

Very much glad to reciprocate the affection. Will drop anything for a hug or forehead/temple/check kiss. Is very cautious with initating the affection in public/in front of your friends, so he doesn't upset you if you aren't in the mood this time, but he'll always make sure to very quickly hold you hand, press a kiss to your hair, or hug you tight if you want it.

Definitely has movie nights where you cuddle on the couch. He always falls asleep with his head ontop of yours.

MINOTAUR:

Definitely where you got it from. Loud, affectionate with everyone. He has a lot of kids, he has to make sure they all have enough affection and thus he does it loud and obviously. He only just holds your hand if it's thr whole family. If it's just you, he wraps an arm over your shoulder and pulls you in close. Always fixing your hair, rubbing and patting your shoulder, making sure you know he's there.

Lowkey still tucks you in at night probably. At least checks on you while you're sleeping.

RODION:

He's so happy, he's so lucky. Flexes it to everyone and all who can intake information through any manner. Forhead kisses diabolically cartoonishly dramatic. He's on the school's PTA just to flex that his kid loves him while everyone else's kids are going through the angst phase and their marriages are falling apart.

NIKTO:

Not as thrilled. He was hoping for the angst phase, to be honest - he hates being touched, and he already gave that up for the younger years. He doesn't tell anyone he's still waiting for the day you loudly complain when he leans in to press a kiss to your head and gently smooths your clothes. He wishes you well, and then goes home and lays in the dark, alone and untouched for however long he can get away with it.

BALE:

It hurts him, but he hopes it will correct itself without imposing himself onto you. He is in denial that this isn't working.

MINOTAUR:

Does his best to bribe himself into good favor again. Any toy you want, you get to pick dinner every night. Overall, takes it much more openly emotionally when compared to his brother.

NIKTO:

Nikto works quietly. Again, he believes you can't let emotions impact your decisions in the moment. He pretends it doesn't hurt him, but he's sure exposure therapy would work. He is very insistent at specifying your relation and meeting your friends.

RODION:

BALE:

It hurts his heart. He knew you would get bigger, but this is a little too big. He remembers when he could pick you up, and looking you in the eye without having to even look down - maybe even look up - just crushes him. Still, he is very proud of his kid and does his best to show that, even if it seems silly or overbearing. Also insists on his son trying on anything he's saved from his youth, old suits and the like. Sometimes just puts his hand on your shoulder and looks at you sadly but won't admit to it if you ask what's wrong.

MINOTAUR:

Minotaur laughs about it, he shows his kid off all of the time. He's very proud that you're so tall. It's his genetics after all. Bro introduces his kids in a line-up where he just yaps about his favorite part of them. He loves each of his kids and you are no different. You being tall is a show that not only are his genetics great but he was also a great father who raised a healthy, strong, tall kid.

NIKTO:

This scares the crap out of him. He doesn't notice for a while, until it's too late. Suddenly, one day you walk in and he looks you in the eyes and he flinches back. What the fuck? You shrink back down right this moment adolescent (gender-neutral young man/lady ??? 😭). This is out of the norm and he isn't a fan of when his norm is disrupted

RODION: