hii! small req, but I was wondering if we could get monster cast fluff, maybe their love languages and how they show their partner how they appreciate them?
Monster characters and their love languages (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡
Cast: Tenma, Johan, Nina, Grimmer, and bonus: Eva!!
Info: headcanons + scenarios 
A/n: whenever I write, I always go with a gender neutral reader, simply so anyone can enjoy—but, whenever I write for female characters specifically, that one slushy noobz audio always pops up in my mind: “one… two… three… I want Yuri!”
Love language: Acts of Service (+ Words of Affirmation).
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Tenma would mostly be an act of service guy, but sprinkle in some words of affirmation—since c’mon, it’s TENMA, he’s a genuine sweetheart. (ಥ﹏ಥ)
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ As we’ve seen, throughout the series, Tenma doesn’t hold back whatsoever when showing how much he cares for his partner.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ He also loves cooking for you! especially his favorite Japanese dishes, while also learning recipes of your own favorite foods—even if they're as ridiculously complicated as an upside down pineapple cake!
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ If you're sick, he'll immediately slip into doctor mode, making sure you rest while he takes care of everything else.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Despite his demanding schedule as a neurosurgeon, he’ll always find time for you, no matter how exhausted he is. Butt, he might accidentally sleep through some days you had a planned date—he’ll make sure to make it up to you though!
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Never makes you feel like you're competing with his work. when he's with you, you have his full attention.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Genuinely listens whenever you need someone to talk to, offering thoughtful advice instead of empty reassurance.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ And if you're feeling insecure, he'll remind you of your strengths with complete sincerity.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ He isn't overly flashy with romance, but every act of kindness speaks louder than grand gestures ever could.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Loves quietly while caring for you—bringing you tea while you study, fixing something that's broken around the house, or making dinner after one of your long days.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Even after a grueling shift, he'll still ask how your day went before talking about his own.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Overall, his job would take up a lot of his time, like a lot, including being exhausted from it… but he’ll always there for you and WILL find the time to spend with you—no matter what!
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Ex.) By the time Tenma unlocked the front door, the sun had long since disappeared.
His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, his white coat folded neatly over one arm after yet another day that had stretched far beyond his scheduled shift.
You looked up from the couch. "...Long day?"
He offered you a tired smile. "I'm afraid so."
Before you could suggest ordering takeout, he was already rolling up his sleeves. "I'll make dinner."
"Tenma," you laughed softly, "you've been operating all day. You should rest."
"I will," he replied. "After I've taken care of us."
Within minutes, the kitchen filled with the comforting aroma of simmering broth and freshly cooked rice. Every now and then he'd glance over to ask your opinion on the seasoning, quietly pleased whenever you smiled after tasting it.
"I've been practicing your favorite recipe," he admitted. "I think I'm finally getting close."
"You learned this... just for me?"
He looked almost embarrassed. "Of course."
After dinner, the two of you sat together in comfortable silence.
You rested your head against his shoulder before quietly admitting something that had been weighing on your mind.
"I don't think I've been doing enough lately."
Tenma turned toward you immediately. "Why would you say that?"
"I don't know... I just feel like I'm falling behind."
He was quiet for a moment before gently taking your hand.
"I've met many remarkable people," he said softly. "But one of the things I admire most about you is how hard you are on yourself."
"And that's exactly why I want you to be kinder to yourself."
His thumb brushed across the back of your hand.
"You don't have to earn your worth." He smiled—that same warm, reassuring smile that had comforted countless patients.
"You're enough exactly as you are."
In that moment, despite the exhaustion written across his face, you couldn't help but realize something.
No matter how busy the hospital became... Tenma would always find a way to come home to you.
Love language: Acts of Service
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ I made a post prior back going into more detail about a relation with Johan, but I feel like he would be the type to show and not tell.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ Showing love through quiet actions, rather than spoken affection.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ It can vary through things like remembering the smallest details about you: your favorite book, flower, tea, or the songs you hum absentmindedly.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ Often helps you without ever admitting he was involved;
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ If someone hurts or mistreats you, he has an unsettling way of ensuring they never bother you again—though, he never will comment about it.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ Johan carries a lot of trauma and baggage, so he wouldn’t be the best at showing his genuine feelings or affections.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ Rarely verbalizes his feelings, believing actions carry more weight than words.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ even so, it wouldn’t pass him to show physical affection—but it will be rare,
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ A fleeting brush of his cold hand, a brief kiss to your forehead, or his arm around your shoulders on a particularly difficult day are all rare signs of genuine affection.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ You may find your favorite flowers on your table or a book you've been searching for, with no words or indicators of who it might be from—but you can already guess who.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ Has a habit of disappearing for days—or even weeks—after moments of emotional closeness, distancing himself before his feelings become too real.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ But, he never stops watching over you, even when he's nowhere to be seen.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ Loving Johan often means learning that his silence isn't the absence of care—it is the result of someone terrified of what caring might cost.
⋆.˚⭑.ᐟ Ex.) You had mentioned it only once.
Several weeks ago, while passing a flower shop during a stroll with Johan, you'd paused for just a moment. Looking through the window.
"These are my favorite." You spoke with small delight, gazing upon the flowers seated behind the glass.
Johan followed your gaze. He offered nothing more than a quiet nod before continuing on his way.
No comment. No question. Nothing to suggest he'd given your words a second thought.
You assumed he hadn't been listening.
So when you returned home one evening to find a small bouquet of those very flowers resting neatly on your kitchen table, your steps came to a halt.
There wasn't a card. No signature. No explanation.
Just the flowers, arranged with quiet care in a simple vase.
For a long moment, you simply stared at them. Then, despite yourself, a smile crept onto your face. "...Johan."
You didn't need a note to know who had left them there.
After all, no one else listened as quietly as he did.
You carefully lifted the bouquet, your fingertips brushing over the delicate petals. They were fresh—so fresh so, that whoever had bought them couldn't have left too long ago.
Without thinking, you glanced toward the window.
The street below was nearly empty. A few people wandered beneath the evening lights, umbrellas tucked beneath their arms, but there was no sign of him.
You let out a quiet sigh. "You're still impossible to read..."
The flowers found a place on the center of your dining table, where the fading sunlight caught their colors just right.
For the next few days, every time you passed them, you couldn't help but smile.
It wasn't because they were your favorite.
It was because someone had remembered.
A week passed before you saw Johan again. You found him exactly where you least expected him—leaning against the railing of a bridge, watching the river drift beneath the evening sky as if he'd been there all along.
His gaze remained fixed on the water.
You stepped beside him, resting your arms on the railing. "...The flowers were beautiful."
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then, almost imperceptibly, the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, then vanished as if they were never there to begin with.
You turned to him with a small chuckle, "Im surprised that you even remembered."
"I remember everything you tell me."
The words were spoken so matter-of-factly that they almost didn't register.
Before you could respond, to the uncharacteristically blunt words, Johan looked away again.
"...The things important to you are important to me." He softly mumbled as if he was talking to himself rather than to you.
Then silence settled comfortably between the two of you.
It was never awkward with him. Only quiet.
You wanted to thank him properly, to tell him how much the gesture had meant, but the words caught in your throat.
Instead, you gently reached for his hand.
His fingers tensed for the briefest moment beneath yours.
For a second, you wondered if he'd pull away.
His hand remained still, cool against your own, before his thumb gave the faintest brush across your knuckles.
The gesture lasted only a heartbeat. Then he quietly slipped his hand free. "...It's getting late," he murmured.
You smiled to yourself, a tad bit disappointed. "Yeah, you’re right."
For anyone else, flowers and a fleeting touch might have seemed insignificant.
Those quiet, unspoken moments were his way of saying everything he could never bring himself to voice.
Love language: Physical Touch
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 In a relationship, Nina would love the person wholeheartedly—as if it was her first.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 She’s naturally affectionate through gentle n meaningful touches: holding hands, hugs, resting against you, or brushing your hair aside.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 Lets you cry on her shoulder without judgment and offers quiet comfort instead of forcing words.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 Encourages open communication while always respecting your boundaries!
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 She isn't afraid to be vulnerable—unlike her twin brother—and slowly opens up about her past, trusting you with her memories.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 Loves suggesting cute dates: "my coworker was talking about this new café that opened nearby. We definitely should check it out sometime!"
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 Nevertheless, she’s happy to be with and spend time with you—no matter the place nor time.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 Ex.) The moment Nina saw you, waiting for her outside of the classroom, her face lit up.
Before you had time to react, she hurried across the walkway and threw her arms around you with enough enthusiasm to make you stumble back a step. She quickly steadied you, laughing softly against your shoulder.
"Sorry..." she mumbled, though the smile on her face suggested she wasn't sorry in the slightest.
Being with Nina was easily one of the happiest parts of your life.
There was only one thing you could never quite get used to: the attention she received.
It didn't matter if the two of you were holding hands, sitting together, or obviously on a date. People still stared. Others were bold enough to walk right up and ask her out—as if you weren't standing right beside her.
You trusted Nina completely. Still... every time it happened, there was an unavoidable sting.
The two of you were walking just outside the university campus, your fingers laced together. Nina absentmindedly traced circles across the back of your hand with her thumb, as the afternoon breeze drifted through the trees.
She glanced over. "Hey," she called your name gently. "Is everything okay? You've been awfully quiet today."
You opened your mouth to answer, but then: "Ahem!" A voice interrupted from a few feet away.
You already knew where this was going—another admirer.
The man scratched the back of his neck before offering Nina an awkward smile. "I saw you across campus and... I just wanted to say that you're really beautiful. And, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to-"
You didn’t even want to hear the rest of the conversation… As your gaze dropped to the ground, your grip also unconsciously loosened—fingers beginning to slip from Nina's.
She noticed immediately. And without hesitation, Nina wrapped both hands around your arm instead, gently pulling herself closer until your shoulders brushed. She looked at the stranger with an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry," she said kindly, "but I'm already with someone."
Then, before you could process what she was doing, she turned toward you and pressed a quick kiss against your cheek.
"I love them," she added without a hint of hesitation.
Your eyes widened in complete shock. Nina to say the least, was typically a little bashful when it came to public displays of affection. Holding hands was one thing.
But kissing you in front of someone who had just confessed to her?
Now that was completely unexpected.
The man's expression soured "...Right." With an irritated mutter, he turned and walked away.
Once he disappeared into the crowd, Nina looked back at you, her cheeks faintly pink.
"You know… I meant every word," she said quietly. "You're the only person I have eyes for." She squeezed your hand. "So... don't compare yourself to anyone else, okay? You're more than enough for me. And I truly hope, that the same thing can be said for me."
A smile slowly spread across your face. “…Thanks, Nina. And of course, you’re all I could then I could ever ask for."
She smiled back, relief softening her expression. "Good." After a brief pause, her cheerful demeanor returned as though nothing had happened.
"Now come on!" she laughed, intertwining your fingers once again. "If we don't hurry, it'll be dark before we get home. anddd, I still want to watch that movie you told me about."
She gently tugged you forward, refusing to let go of your hand for the rest of the walk.
Love language: Quality Time
.☘︎ ݁˖ The first date would be a picnic—no questions asked.
.☘︎ ݁˖ Buttttt, he believes the best way to show love is simply spending meaningful time together, no matter how simple the activity.
.☘︎ ݁˖ He’s an easy going guy, who wouldn’t hesitate to show how much he cares for his partner.
.☘︎ ݁˖ He will always offer encouragement and thoughtful advice whenever you're struggling.
.☘︎ ݁˖ Gives you his full attention whenever you're together, making you feel like you're the only person in the world.
.☘︎ ݁˖ But, since this is grimmer, he can be emotionally distant—not because he doesn't love you, but because years of trauma makes it difficult for him to fully, or at all, express what he's truly feeling inside.
.☘︎ ݁˖ He would take you on hikes to scenic places or if you don’t feel like it you can take a stroll in the park together.
.☘︎ ݁˖ Even if he’s emotionally distant, he’d never ever push you away when you seek affection; instead, he quietly cherishes every embrace, handhold, or moment of closeness.
.☘︎ ݁˖ Finds happiness in life's simple moments: sharing lunch, watching the sunset, reading together, or talking for hours.
.☘︎ ݁˖ Loves making spontaneous plans, even if he occasionally underestimates how ambitious they are.
.☘︎ ݁˖ Ex.) Your lungs burned with every breath.
"...Grimmer," you managed between breaths. "How much... farther?"
He looked back over his shoulder with his usual bright smile. "Shouldn’t be that much longer!"
You'd heard that answer nearly half an hour ago…
Earlier that morning, he'd excitedly woken you up with an overstuffed backpack already slung over his shoulder, eager to leave immediately—that was until you reminded him that people generally ate breakfast before disappearing into the wilderness.
"Oh!" He’d say in pure disbelief, then he'd laughed, scratching the back of his head. "That’s right! Breakfast first, huh."”
Now, after what felt like an endless hike through winding forest trails, you were beginning to wonder whether he had actually known where he was going.
Whenever he noticed you slowing down, he'd stop without complaint.
"We'll rest here for a minute."
Even when you insisted you were fine, he'd shake his head calling out your name.
"Now there, there’s no need for rushing. I want you to enjoy today too."
Finally, the trees began to thin. The forest opened into a vast meadow blanketed in pale wildflowers, the breeze carrying their sweet fragrance across the hills.
Your exhaustion—almost—melted away, "...wow."
Grimmer laughed at your expression before dropping his backpack onto the grass. "We finally made it!"
He unzipped it, revealing neatly packed bread, fruit, cheese, sandwiches, a blanket, and even a bottle of wine tucked safely inside.
"I thought today would be perfect weather for a picnic," he said proudly before rubbing the back of his neck. "...Although I may have underestimated how far we'd have to walk."
You let out a tired laugh as you collapsed beside him, leaning your weight against his shoulder. "It's okay."
He looked at you apologetically. "Really?"
"Mhm." You rested your head against him with a smile. "At least we're finally here."
"Took us long enough, huh?" His warm chuckle vibrated against your shoulder before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss onto the top of your head.
"Now then," he said, reaching for the basket, "how about some bread, and maybe a little wine too?"
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ Bonus! Eva Heinemann 
Love language: gift giving
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ As we’ve seen throughout the series, through multiple occasions, she always gives the people she romantically likes veryy expensive gifts.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ So, she shows her affection through lavish, expensive presents, rather than heartfelt words.
Believes: the finer the gift, the more obvious her feelings should be!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ Loves buying designer clothing, jewelry, perfumes, or anything elegant that fits her impeccable taste.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ Will never ask if you want the gift beforehand—you'll be accepting it, whether you like it or not!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ Secretly, she enjoys gifting you items that subtly match something she owns, so the two of you look even more like a couple.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ Constantly showers you with compliments, though many are mixed with her trademark confidence:
"Of course everyone is staring. You're with me, after all."
"You should consider yourself lucky. Not many people catch my attention."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ Uses gifts to express emotions she's too guarded to say aloud.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ Since, I feel like it would take awhile for her to genuinely open up to someone, about her true feelings—so she’ll just stick with giving gifts instead. It can be easier than words.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ BUT, once she truly and I mean trulyyy trusts you, her gifts become far more personal, chosen because they remind her of you rather than simply because they're expensive.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ Ex.) Today was the day—yours and Eva’s anniversary.
You'd spent weeks deciding what to give her.It wasn't jewelry. It wasn't even designer clothing. And It certainly wasn't anything worthy of the Heinemann name.
Instead, carefully wrapped in simple paper sat something you'd made yourself—a handmade gift filled with photographs, pressed flowers from your previous first dates together, handwritten notes, and little memories you'd collected throughout your relationship.
You weren't quiet sure how she'd react. Maybe she would've preferred diamonds… you thought to yourself.
When Eva arrived, she was carrying several glossy shopping bags from luxury boutiques.
"I hope you cleared out some closet space," she said with a satisfied smile. "You'll need it."
She set the bags down one by one:
A tailored designer coat. Jewelry—that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary. And a silk scarf that perfectly matched one she'd purchased for herself.
"I thought we'd look nice wearing these together."
You couldn't help but laugh. "...Eva."
"What?" she asked innocently. "It's practical."
You smiled before handing her your much smaller package. "This one's... not exactly expensive."
Eva raised an eyebrow before carefully unwrapping it.
The room fell quiet. To which, it felt as if your heart had stopped in those very quiet moments.
She turned each page slowly, lingering on every photograph and every handwritten memory.
For several moments, she didn't say a word. Until, "...You remembered all of these?"
You nodded nervously, "I know it's not much compared to what you got me."
She closed the scrapbook gently before looking back at you.
"You know… you really are an idiot." Yet, the insult lacked its usual bite. Instead, she stepped closer and carefully held the book against her chest.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Well, you know, I’m still going to spoil you with expensive things."
She reached up to fix a strand of your hair. "But…” Her voice softened just enough for only you to hear. "Thank you."
For Eva Heinemann, those two words were worth far more than any diamond she could ever buy.
