#AFTER I finish the killer doesn't understand

[morning-star-joy]

might fuck around and write a small town Arthur Morgan romance fic

[nereidprinc3ss]

you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all. 

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him. 

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back. 

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep. 

Or so he’d like to think. 

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately. 

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it. 

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him. 

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank. 

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

You don’t make another sound for hours. 

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time. 

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back. 

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot. 

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand. 

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway. 

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums. 

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak. 

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts. 

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes. 

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue. 

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression. 

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest. 

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way. 

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now. 

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you. 

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid. 

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper. 

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like. 

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat. 

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake. 

Spencer is too stunned to follow you. 

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous. 

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction. 

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal. 

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. 

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief. 

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent. 

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out. 

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow. 

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away. 

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door. 

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom. 

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins. 

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed. 

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back. 

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her. 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist. 

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion. 

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t. 

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with. 

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt. 

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question borne of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.  

[smakonca]

I've been thinking of this post too much and I made a little continuation of it! Thought I could finish it earlier, but I was mistaken.

Basically Night gets extremely frustrated with his loss. And I mean how could he not? Him! Basically a god! Lost to some unintelligent mortal being! (From his perspective of course)

So he blames Killer for cheating. Even know he knows that the game was fair. He just needs someone to blame, to carry the loss of his mistakes. It doesn't apply only to games but also to his past too, where he blames Dream for not protecting or not caring enough for him. Or taking the attention and love he thinks he deserved away from him.

But the monologue he gave to Killer is not about his past or his view of the world. It's more about telling the Killer to know his place. Because for the time being he is a whipping boy for Night.

Killer understands. But just offers him another round. Which can be interpreted as him agreeing to Nightmare's terms or saying "fuck u, I can beat yo ass again". He holds the piece king in his hands, implying that even though Nightmare is strong, Killer still has some sort of power over him.

Nightmare knows he will most likely lose again. And yet he can't deny the offer. After all, Killer is an interesting fella to play chess with. (Or he eats the pieces. And then Killer catches him doing that he gently wipes his mouth with a napkin like "I have no idea what you are talking about")

Thank you @signanothername for inspiration! I really like how you view the characters and explain their dynamics between each other!

Credits:

Original idea belongs to signanothername

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog

[fanaticsnail]

Snail important question;

Of any line-up of characters of your choice-

Who do you think is attracted to competency,

Who is attracted to stupidity,

Who can go either way,

And who is attracted to both at the same time (imagine;

Reader: sorry I'm late I had to fight off two different ships

Them: is that how you got that bruise on your face?

Reader: oh... Actually, I wasn't looking and pulled a push door off its' hinges into my face

Them, kicking off their pants: god you're so fucking stupid, sit on my face

)

Also, I feel like there are different versions of competency and stupidity. Street smarts vs social obliviousness. Book smarts vs functionally illiterate. Strategic/battle smarts vs what-do-you-mean-flashing-the-enemy-isn't-a-valid-distraction?

(Zoro is completely math smart and dumb in every other way)

I could imagine Luffy would be attracted to hyper specific competency. If you're really into a specific thing and good at it and it's your dream he would absolutely love it even if it sounds like you're speaking gibberish to him. He wouldn't even think of it as weird - I mean, no more weird than any other dream he doesn't personally understand - he's certainly not the type to judge based on societal norms. You could talk his ear off about the reproductive habits of different animals and he wouldn't get why everyone else doesn't like to hear it when they're eating but hey more food for him.

Snail. Your asks always know how to get the better of me. Have a series of little drabbles, dear.

Competency, Stupidity, Duality

Masterlist here

Word Count: 410+, 510+, 580+

Synopsis: They can't help what attracted them to you. No matter what you did, they simply couldn't get enough of you. Their emotions finally catch up with them, and they confess their adoration for you.

Themes: variety x gn!reader, feelings, injury, mentions of battles, finally giving in, all different 'reader' inserts, confessions of love, kid x reader, zoro x reader, killer x reader, angst, fluff, sweetness.

Notes: I wasn't expecting to write this today, but I've been thinking about the big boys lately and I needed to give them some love. Something about trios lately.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Competency: Eustass Kid

When Eustass Kid noticed how quick and sharp you were to react in life or death circumstances, he was immediately smitten with you. Being a Straw-Hat, your ambitions and dreams were fostered by your playful captain as you sailed aboard the Thousand Sunny. Your ability to interact flawlessly by balancing the combined efforts of the three crews had him intrigued by your charisma. 

Fighting by your side was something he didn’t expect to affect him so much. The way you researched the strengths and weaknesses of all three crews sailing and fighting together was admirable. Asserting yourself by asking Law to push and pull you closer to the fight with the Ope-Ope no Mi ability, while fighting side-by-side with Massacre Soldier Killer in close quarters, had him left wordless.

After the battle finishes, he watched as you hastily aided your crew of their injuries while disregarding your own; putting others first while adding pressure to your hand-gash, hovering it over your head to slow the bleeding. He couldn’t get enough of you. 

He needed you to know how he felt about you, but being in the presence of Luffy and Law always seemed to bring out the more juvenile side of attitude. His simple attraction and infatuation with you had to be revealed to you in due time, but he couldn’t risk sounding like an idiot in front of you. He would have to simply wait until you were alone and unoccupied before he made his move to take care of you after taking care of others. 

Slowly approaching you as you sat down against the tangerine grove aboard the Thousand Sunny, his shadow shrouded your form and prompted you to gaze up into his scarred, sheepish face. Your smile caused his heart to beat harder and his head to swirl with a variety of "what-ifs". Gulping back his insecurities, he knelt down in front of you.

“Let me take care of that for you,” he offered with a soft smirk, “You’ve done so much for others, and I think your hand needs some seeing to.” 

“If you say so, Captain Kid,” you shrug, offering your injured hand delicately to him and listening to his every instruction as he treats you, “I wasn’t aware you had any medical training.” He straps your hand in a bandage, placing down the final ties before holding your injured hand in his.

“I don’t,” he shrugged with a smile atop his painted lips, “But I’ve lost an arm before, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.” 

“You’re-...” he stuttered over his words, gazing at your hand before softly drifting his tired eyes up, “...-You amaze me. Truly, amaze me.” You place your other hand on his, never once removing your eyes from his face as he offers you such kindness. 

“Thank you, sir,” you nod to him with a soft smile, “You amaze me, too.”

Stupidity: Roronoa Zoro

“Why would you do that?” Zoro roared at you, hovering his body over yours and caging your face-down body within a shield of his own. The gashes on your back were deep, your body weeping out the red essence and staining your clothes with it.

“C-Couldn’t risk yours,” you stuttered out with a soft smile, “H’was gonna g-get yours. Didn’t want you to wear the shame.” His eyes widened, filling with a steam of glossy tears that threatened to spill over the moment you stuttered out your confession. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Mark on the back is a swordsman’s greatest shame?” 

Drip. 

Drip.

Drip.

One after one, soft tears spilt down his cheeks and mixed with the fluids pooling at your back. He leaned down towards you, the heat of battle dying down with the swift, flaming kick of the blonde cook and giggling chuckles of your captain, Luffy. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he sniffed his sobs back as he leaned down to cage you, “Can’t you see? None of that fucking matters without you here.” He softly, tenderly moved you from your position on the floor to not disturb your wounds. He sat you up, cradling you against his broad chest and openly sobbed for you. 

“When you get better,” he growled into your shoulder, “I will repay you for this. I will pay my debt to you.” His sobs got more desperate, not halting in the slightest when Trafalgar D Water-Law approached the two of you in your embrace. 

“Let me get ‘em to the infirmary,” Law offered, gesturing for Bepo to ready the aid kit, “I’ll treat the wounds there-.” 

“-I won’t leave them,” Zoro barked over your shoulder, your soft smile tugging at your cheeks in your hazy daze. “Let me go with you, Traffy. I won’t say a damn word to distract you, on my honor.” Law nods, raising his hand and spreading his fingers and offers the two words to switch positions within the infirmary: “Room, Shambles.” 

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you laughed each time Zoro chastised you for your stupidity. Echos of: “There were so many other things you could’ve done instead,” and “You stumbled into that blade like a moron and took that hit for me, idiot.” You giggled through the pain, barely feeling it as Law worked to stitch you together again. 

Upon regaining consciousness, you looked to your moss-haired crewmate and offered out your hand to his bicep. His head was bowed, arms crossed over his chest, and was assumed to be napping by your bedside. Feeling your touch, he was roused from his sleep and immediately leaned forward to bring his face beside yours. 

“You’re a fucking moron,” he huffed, smiling in a melancholy grin. You laughed at his insult, squeezing his muscle before retracting your hand. As you nearly drew it away to your side, he caught your hand and brought your palm up to his lips. 

“My fucking moron,” he confirmed, placing a soft kiss to your palm before using it to cup his face. “I love you.”

Duality: Massacre Soldier Killer

Staring up into your face while remaining silent, resting his masked face on the heel of his palm, he listened to your recount of a very specific childhood injury that left you with an interesting scar on your thigh. Killer’s eyes never left your face, his cheeks beginning to glow warm and vibrant beneath the shroud of his mask.

“So, let me get this straight,” Captain Eustass Kid held his hand in front of his face and gave it a gentle wave to halt your words, “That sick-looking scar wasn’t from any time you served with Luffy, but because you set off a fucking harpoon and speared yourself in the leg with it?” 

Killer felt himself swoon at the melody your laugh thrust into the atmosphere. He was ever thankful his blue and white mask disguised how much he was smiling beneath the shroud. 

“Yep,” you popped the ‘P’ afterwards, nodding in confirmation as you sat beside Usopp and drew your tankard up to your lips, “But I learnt from it, and it hasn’t happened since.” Killer sighed, his voice almost coming out in a soft moan to reveal his growing infatuation for you. Kid barked out a harsh gaggle of laughter, clapping you on the shoulder with his right hand and gestured for you to reveal it to them.

“Let me see it again, go on,” he chuckled, removing his hand and sitting back on his seat, “Use Killer’s thigh as a prop so we can see it properly. You don’t mind do you, big guy?” Killer absentmindedly and slowly shook his head, tapping his thigh twice with his hand for you to reveal your injury to the captain of the Victoria Punk, himself and your crewmate beside you. 

“Alright,” you shrugged, standing beside Usopp and Killer and gently placed your foot atop Killer’s thigh and began hiking up your shorts to your hip, “Feast your eyes, Captain.” Sure enough, an interesting looking scar was revealed on your inner thigh, clear as day and sure as the sea is salty. 

“Oh, fucking hells!” Kid gave you a hearty laugh, “You seeing this, big guy?” Kid turned his attention to his first mate, his smile only growing as he noticed the angle of Killer’s mask never left your face. Surprise was immediately thrust into Kid’s eyes, noticing the unwavering resolve in Killer’s posture. 

You turned your attention down to the silent and broody first-mate, your face puzzled and eyes searching his mask for any further thought or action. He slowly drew his hands up to clasp around your ankle and calf, holding it firmly as he leaned forward. 

“You’re perfect,” he offered in a breathy whisper, stroking your leg and gazing lovingly into your face, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.” 

Your face flushed with a warmth at his words, eyes widening and looking down at his large hands as they held you so tenderly and delicately within his grasp. Smiling, you leaned forwards and placed your hand over his scarred left forearm with mischief in your eyes, asking him a simple question with a suggestive tone. 

“Like what you see then, big guy?” At your question, Usopp nearly choked on his drink. You had never been this bold before, and this came as a shock to your crew’s skilled sniper. He covered his choking with a soft cough, turning away with a downturned smile and stifling his growing laugh. 

“So much,” Killer confirmed, gently caressing your calf and looking up at you through half-hooded blonde lashes beneath his mask, “So, so much.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic ❌️Platonic

TW: Implied Abuse, Murder, Implied Gore, Period Typical Treatment of Women, Implied Sewerslide

Description: Alastor X Singer!Crime Family!reader who has known him in life and death and what their complicated relationship might be like, as canon compliant as I can bring myself to be

You grew up in crime family with an emotionally unavailable mother and violent dismissive father

Sure you were well fed, well dressed,well protected(despite the socially acceptable beatings from your parents) and educated but you were in a prison all of your own

You were your family's precious songbird with a voice like no other and a cage of steel around you, you often had small shows in clubs, bars, wherever your father could make it happen

Your father loved showing you off to his associates, friends, anybody who would listen really, in those moments you were his little girl who could do no wrong

Behind closed doors however

Because of your father's bragging all of his gross old friends took an unnecessary interest in you as well

Also did you know you're engaged to some brute who's nearly twice your age?? Some radio show producer who's had 3 wives before you and more women on his arm than you can count

But it's fine, you're fine

Is what you tell yourself until one day your fiance takes you to a radio station so you can sing there and you hear a familiar voice in one of the radio booths

Nofuckingwayisthatwhoyouthinkitisohfuckitshimitshim

You couldn't resist listening to one of your favorite radio hosts live but you also didn't want to interrupt so you stood and watched from afar as Alastor worked his magic

He was more handsome and magnetic in person, it was so unfair, you were completely entranced by him

Don't worry he noticed you too, amused by your gooey awestruck gaze

You could've stayed and listened to the whole show if your fiance hadn't suddenly yanked you away by your arm, reminding you that you were also here to work

You have a small wave and mouthed "big fan" as you were pulled away, ecstatic as Alastor gave a slick smile back

Now it was his turn to be intrigued, finishing up his show and exiting his booth to go and find where his delicious looking little fan went

Only to find himself happily surprised by your singing, deciding to sit and stay on his break, listening in appreciation for your voice

After that you two simply clicked, drawn to each other even if you both didn't understand it

You sneaking off every chance you could to talk and spend time with him and Alastor perking up anytime his door opened

It escalates from there, Alastor secretly sending you flowers/letters/anything you even glance at, you reciprocating by leaving little gifts/letters on his desk. The two of you having discreet rendezvous at night

It wasn't romantic at all and you two weren't in love, just really good friends

Who sometimes had moments of intimacy like snuggling, touching foreheads after a long embrace, a dozen almost kisses, a few kiss kisses

And when you inevitably found out that he's a cannibalistic serial killer he was worried he would have to hurt you, worried that you would be disgusted in him. That you wouldn't want to see him again

Imagine Alastor's surprise when you just sigh and start helping him clean his mess, almost nonchalant with the gore until you explain that your family has a violent history

Okay so maybe it's love maybe it's not, you two don't put a label on it or even discuss it really, you just enjoy the moment

Alastor hates your fiance, he hates that he doesn't treasure you, that he openly cheats on you, that he's rough with you, that he thinks he owns you

Safe to say that your fiance and Alastor hate each other but that's just fine because you hate your fiance too

Things were blissful between you two and you were even discussing running away together, your family and fiance starting to catch on to the relationship

You and Alastor began to finalize plans, picking a day to meet up and start your new lives

Except Alastor dissappears suddenly and doesn't return any of your letters, doesn't show up for his radio show and you can't find him

And one day you're caught by your father and fiance,checking Alastor's radio booth again, the two of them taunting you by telling you Alastor took a bribe and ditched you

You're forced to marry your fiance less than a month later, only making it a little longer before you take your own life, drowning in heartbreak and rage at the betrayal

You're not surprised when you find yourself in hell but damn it still feels like a punch to a gut

You know Alastor is there too, you know who this rising radio demon is but you don't want anything to do with him, you're still so angry

And he's angry at you too, thinking you moved on from him so easily, hurt that you never even looked for him(He's 100% creating scenarios in his head and hurting himself)

So it takes quite awhile before you two even cross paths, let alone hash things out, like a years and years sort of thing

Expect a lot of run ins that end in snarky comments and unnecessary romantic/sexual tension

It's not until one particularly explosive argument that you two realize that you've been getting the truth mixed up

But once it's settled then it's like nothing ever changed, except that you two have way more time together and you don't have to sneak around anymore

It's an open secret that you two are together even though neither of you have confirmed it or even put a label on it

You just always happen to be on his arm, canoodling at every chance and backing each other up in fights(verbal or physical). Every successful fight is rewarded with eskimo kisses

But you two are definitely practically husband and wife, a power couple even

But then one day he dissappears again

WHY

Maybe you two had a fight before he dissappears and he storms off for a walk. Maybe not

And then seven years go by and you fear that somehow you've lost him again, but for good this time

So you spend that time quietly mourning him and struggling to move on

You don't even find out he's back again until you hear him back in his radio tower, fighting with Vox

🙄😏 that man...

You're not even mad that he hasn't come to see you yet, simply relieved that he's alive and back

Okay you're a little mad, a little hurt

You're calm when you find out he's staying at some new hotel instead of coming back home, coming back to you

Okay you're not exactly calm, your friends would say you're simply hysterical behind closed doors

So you're livid when you find out he's staying with Lucifer's daughter and her friends because it's so obviously just a power grab for him

Fine

You definitely don't go over and cause a scene but you definitely do corner him at some point and let him have it

He's so fucking happy to see you that he's not even paying attention to what you're yelling about or why you're crying. He just pulls you in for a long hug, shutting you up with a rough kiss.

No you're not cupping each other's cheeks, foreheads pressed together as he apologizes over and over again for leaving you again

He won't do it again, not if he can help it

You find out that he's managed to dig himself a hole with a bad deal but that's about all you can figure out and he can't exactly tell you

But you manage to find it in yourself to forgive him(it's hard to stay mad at him), accepting that his time and attention have to be somewhere else for now

Then there's another extermination and one of your friends tell you to check the tv(something you probably don't normally do)

The moment you see Alastor facing off against Adam you're off, fighting and racing to get to him, to help him but he's gone by the time you get there. Lucifer and his daughter fighting him

But you know he's not dead this time, he wouldn't leave you again, not a third time

He promised

So you find him panicking in his busted radio tower and hold him until he calms down, promising that you two will find a way out of his deal

Maybe just hold his head to your chest and stroke his hair a little longer?

You were both reluctant to break apart, Alastor genuinely seeming remorseful as he nuzzles your forehead, telling you that he will visit you soon, that he's sorry for everything

Still he smiles 🙃

When he leaves to go back to the hotel you find yourself more tempted than ever to follow him, your heart aching to be near him again already

Maybe you should check in or at least offer to work there, they don't have an entertainer yet, do they?

Alastor when you show up:

"Darling, what are you doing here?"

I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM OKAY!?

Bonus! Charlie when she finds out about Alastor's boo:

[felassan]

Shinobi602 comments on ResetEra:

"If Anthem was a runaway success, you'd be seeing a very different BioWare right now who'd be all in on the live service model. They're running uphill because they've got goodwill they need to earn back after the fact, but its failure (plus Fallen Order's success) is what allowed them to pivot right back to what they're good at: single player character driven RPGs. Silver lining but still." [source]

User: "I don't think its unreasonable to have hoped that a Dragon Age game would have similar gameplay to previous Dragon Age games." Shinobi: "Veilguard does have similar gameplay though, just not the exact same gameplay." [source]

"Open world doesn't automatically mean better. Inquisition's open world zones were basically Bioware's response to Skyrim and anticipating that's what players wanted. The big zones were cool but they were also bloated and full of uninteresting quests. Andromeda also took Mass Effect to huge open world zones and they had the same result. It was ass and the game benefited nothing from it. It's better for Bioware to stick to what they do best which is tighter, more structured play spaces." [source]

"they'll do what they think they're good at. Inquisition was highly rated, but the big open areas were also flawed. If they felt that's not what they'll excel at, that's fine. There ARE larger open areas in Veilguard though. If that's your very strict definition on what will make the game good apparently." [source]

"If you're sole definition of a Dragon Age game is that you can take direct control of companions and a tac-cam, it's understandable. But I think it's completely false that this is somehow unrecognizable as a Dragon Age game. There are tons of different aspects that define the series outside of that." [source]

"It's been evolving and changing for over a decade." [source]

"They did say there are some "killer cameos" they're keeping secret. My mind's going to several different possibilities..." [source]

User: "Yeah, they need to wrap up this story in this game. I'm already a little annoyed that we are getting another "the veil is torn and demons are wrecking havoc" story. They cannot stretch that to a third game." Shinobi: "It's a lot more than that. It's not a repeat of Inquisition or anything." [source]

"This might genuinely be the most in depth CC in a mainstream RPG that I've seen." [source]

"Yeah this is more like Inquisition, though you could still change out companion helmets in that one." [source]

"They did confirm tavern songs are back so that's good news, and The Swan (Minrathous tavern) has a bunch." [source]

"Yeah there's a good amount of veterans working on Veilguard. Though I always find that to be such a weird qualifier, and it seemingly always comes up with Bioware in particular. As if there aren't tons of talented non-Bioware devs from across the industry who could join the team and still write and design a great game. Like nah, it can't be a good game unless it's got people who've been there for 20 years! 😄" [source]

"There are also rune items you can equip that provide different effects and act as their own abilities basically, plus ultimate attacks for each class specialization (so 9 total), plus finisher moves and things like elemental combo detonations for extra damage." [source]

"there are definitely 'open areas' you can explore around in. It's not more linear than ME2." [source]

User: "Is my reading of "mission-based" it being like ME2/3 correct?" Shinobi: "Yeah, in that regard, it's more structured like Mass Effect, which I think is to its benefit. DAI just suffered way too much from open world bloat. I think the tighter, handcrafted structure works a lot better." [source]

User: "How big are the areas? Like the first game where you open the map and pick a location?" Shinobi: "Don't know exactly. But that's what I was told. There are several open ended areas that are explorable in the story. Plus a hub area." [source]

"I think if fans have been yearning for a quality Bioware game like they were used to before, this is that. Tight design, great character models, environments, animations have gone next level, combat fluidity, etc...it's all here. I compare it to the jump from ME1->ME2. [re: the jump in quality/fidelity/presentation.] This isn't a spoiler, as Game Informer said, it's a full on action RPG, and you can still pause and issue commands. But this is not DAO. Preferences put aside, Bioware's moved on from that ages ago. This isn't BG3 at all. But they've put a huge emphasis on making combat feel good to play. As in engaging the player, more real-time, more Mass Effect. It's a meaty, single player RPG with lots of systems going on inside. Also, like they said, this is the prologue, the beginning of the game. Keep that in mind if you don't see everyone's powers unlocked or intense pause and play. If you keep all that in mind, I think you'll really like this." [source]

"But it's a big jump for Bioware. [re: animations]" [source]

"[rogues are] flashy, jump around a lot, etc." [source]

"Party members can definitely get knocked out in battle" [source]

"It's important to note that what was shown was completely level 1 combat, and likely on easy mode for demo purposes. There is way more to it in more advanced battles. When it opens up with way more abilities, unique momentum attacks, ultimates, and other...things they haven't shared yet, on higher difficulties, it will look and feel way different." [source]

"It'll be rated M. It's got its share of nudity lol." [source]

User: "should we expect a comparable level of dialogue role playing as we had in Inquisition? I don't mind the changes to combat but there seemed to be more auto dialogue here than I remember from Inquisition or Tresspasser." Shinobi: "Yeah. That was just the intro. They just like to keep the pace going for a big start to the game." [source]

"This isn't accurate at all though, and it keeps getting perpetuated. Yes, there's been departures like Casey Hudson, Aaryn Flynn, Mike Laidlaw, etc, but I could easily list dozens of people at Bioware right now that have been there for 10-20+ years, some even longer. Do they just...not count for some reason? The entire core team building Mass Effect right now were OG leads on ME1-3, been there for over 20 years. And even outside of that, like, does this really matter? Do you know one of the game's premier VFX/lighting designers worked for ILM? Or one of the cinematic leads is an alum from Blizzard? Or one of the creature animators was a senior creature animator on Horizon Forbidden West? Talent is talent. And if we look at the industry through that lens too, sure, tons of studios are just "X, Y, Z studio in name", in many ways. There's no studio in the industry that holds on to their entire team for 30-40 years." [source]

"They do have that data. And I think even this thread would be shocked at how tiny of a % of players took direct control of other companions. Or went into tac-cam. Not just Inquisition but the whole series." [source]

[melloollem]

Family Conflicts|| Bruce Wayne × Batmom Fem!reader × (Platonic)Jason Todd

Summary: Bruce mulls over the guilt he feels after a fight with Jason, you're the one who advises him and tries to sort things out.

Warnings: Comfort (with anguish), Platonic relationship with Jason, Family conflicts.

(DC masterlist)

You were drying your hair after getting out of the shower, and walked into the room you shared. Bruce was sitting on the right side of the bed staring at the large pane of glass that overlooked the house's garden, too immersed in his own thoughts to recognize your presence.

You were aware that the recent argument was still plaguing his mind. You let the silence linger in the room for a while longer while you put on your clothes, waiting for him to take the initiative to talk to you. When you had finished, you leaned against one of the walls of the room, watching Bruce's back. The nights in Gotham were brutal, and the scars on his back couldn't deny it.

After a few minutes, a click escapes your mouth as you realize that he would choose to ignore your presence "Aren't you going to say anything?" Your voice broke through the man's numb state, but the silence remained, drawing a weary sigh from you. You wished the constant conflicts and obligations didn't consume Bruce's mind as much as they do, but you knew that was too much to ask of him, a man entirely dedicated to everything he did.

"Everything will be fine, he just needs some time." Bruce's guilt was consuming him, Jason was no longer the unstoppable killer whose goal was to kill Batman, but the relationship between the family was still complicated, everything was still too sensitive, like an inflamed wound.

"He doesn't hate you, he just needs some time," you repeated the assurance, trying to get into your husband's mind. "He was clear about how he felt," Bruce said to you for the first time that night, still motionless.

"So that's all I had to say to get you to say something" Your sarcasm lacked any real anger at Bruce's behavior, already used to dealing with the complicated man he was. "He'll never forgive me" That wasn't half of what he wanted to say, but it was all he had the courage to admit. Bruce was never the kind of person to speak his mind openly, you had to read him, understand him beyond his words and you were very good at doing that.

"You don't believe that. He's disappointed, but you can fix it." You knew that it would be much harder for Bruce and Jason to work things out, much harder than it was for you and Jason, not because Jason blamed you less for what happened, but because he and Bruce were too similar for their own good, Jason would never say what he felt out loud and neither would Bruce and they always hurt each other because between half-words Jason saw the worst in Bruce and Bruce saw a lot of his faults in Jason.

"What about you? Are you disappointed in me?" The blue-eyed man knew that he had acted improperly, despite Jason's behavior, Bruce knew that this was not the ideal occasion. You took too long to convince your son to return to the mansion and when he finally did, Bruce used the moment to reprimand him.

"I'm not sure, I just..." you bit your lips apprehensively "I wish you hadn't done that" you too were trying to make things right. It was distressing to see Bruce taking all the blame on himself and taking away the responsibility you had with Jason. "I need you to trust me, Bruce. We're in this together." There was no point in fighting with the man, he knew where he had gone wrong in this situation.

You moved across the room to stand in front of Bruce, you held his chin to make him look at you, guilt staining his blue eyes. He didn't want to ruin the progress you were making with your son, but it seemed that was all he had done since Jason's return. He knew the boy blamed you both equally, but when he made himself willing to move on, you managed to warm Jason's heart faster than Bruce could ever have wished. While Bruce mulled over the guilt of Jason's death, you sought the boy's forgiveness.

"I'm sorry" Bruce didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for, there were many of his actions that needed forgiveness, but you accepted it openly, knowing the sincerity of the words. "Everything will be fine" Bruce leaned his head on your stomach as he heard your words, that statement was all he could ever want from you. "I love you" he breathed as he closed his eyes, his words sounded like an oath, an intimate pact between you and an affirmation of the trust he had in your words "We can sort things out with Jason, okay? Both of us".

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

I was putting off posting this because I really like the story and I was afraid of how it would play out, but the fact is that I was afraid people wouldn't understand it. I don't think Bruce is a bad father, but he's certainly a complicated person. I know that's a bad summary and a bad name. Thank you to anyone who read this story. This is a repost.

[lazycats-stuff]

Another request, hope it’s not bad.

But batbro!reader who was raised to be perfect. Who’s older than Damian bur younger than Tim. But I was thinking maybe Bruce and readers mum have split custody and his mum is very demanding, the reader doing things like music and ballet (I just love dancing bc I was a dancer) and their mum pushes them to be perfect, in that and schoolwork and belittles then if it’s not perfect.

Like they are worse than most of the family, not sleeping and always studying or pushing his body to the limits with practice.

The family is going to a dancing competition for Cassandra and the reader is performing but they don’t know, reader not getting first place and they see how his mother reacts badly, maybe belittling the reader, their reaction maybe.

Hope it makes sense, if you are uncomfortable with it dw🫶. I’ve seen so many assassin or killer ones.

Oh I hate those types of parents... Thankfully, my parents are not like this... Thanks mom and dad. Also, not a dancer so any inaccuracies are on me. Also, I don't know why this is so short???

Summary: (Y/N)'s mom is awful. Bruce finds out.

Warnings: the mom is awful, belittling, the fam is not having it and neither is the author, verbal abuse

Standards are important in life. With the said standards you choose important things in life. Partners are one of the most important thing you need to choose by your standards, but there is no such thing as perfection. There is no such thing as being a perfect person in anything you can do.

Everyone makes mistakes.

But that's something that (Y/N)'s mother doesn't seem to understand. Both her and Bruce taught her that it's important to have standards. But they had different approaches.

(Y/N)'s mom wanted nothing more than perfection. Bruce only wanted (Y/N) to give him his best. And with sharing custody with his mother made things far more difficult for the teen. Bruce noticed how tired he was and how he looked like he was on the verge of sleeping every single time he sees (Y/N).

But the mom couldn't care less. She wanted her son to be perfect. And if he didn't achieve what she had in mind? Well, he would get grounded and shouted at.

(Y/N) didn't even want to remember all the insults she screamed at him over the years. He doesn't want to remember the fact that she was his mother. But he knew that the custody agreement wouldn't change.

They always favor the mothers rather than fathers.

The only thing where he could let go of those insults and thoughts was ballet. It was his biggest passion and it was supported by both his mother and Bruce. Bruce always tried to come on every single recital that (Y/N) had and he was always the loudest person in there.

However, (Y/N) was competing against his adopted sister Cassandra. (Y/N) didn't tell them, because his mom didn't want Bruce to know. She was often like that, trying to rob Bruce of a lot of things. (Y/N) didn't like that at all, but he couldn't go against her.

After Cassandra was finished, (Y/N) saw that he had a good competitor. He stretched behind in the wings, getting himself mentally ready.

He would really have to reach deep inside himself in order to win.

(Y/N) was happy with how he did and now they waited for the awards. Cassandra and (Y/N) knew that it would be a tight race for the first place.

One thing that he didn't expect to hear was that he got second place. He smiled, but his gut dropped. Oh no. No. Not happening. This can't be happening.

He accepted the award with a smile, but he could see him mom in the crowd. She was fuming. He looked to look at his father, who was smiling at him, showing him a thumbs up. That was a little bit comforting.

After they have finished, he changed into the normal clothes. He took a deep breath as he saw his mother.

" Second place? Do you know how you embarrassed I am? " She whispered harshly. Bruce congratulated Cassandra and then walked towards the duo.

" You are a failure. " She said and Bruce saw red. Not happening.

" (Y/N)? Please go to your brothers. " Bruce said, a tight smile on his face.

The said brothers were glaring at (Y/N)'s mother, ready to give her the piece of their mind. They welcomed (Y/N), saying that he did a good job. (Y/N) nodded, but he didn't really believe it.

Bruce was chewing his mom out and said that that he will have full custody of his son. No child of his will be berated.

" Hey (Y/N), you are going to stay with me from now on. " Bruce said, hugging his son.

" What about mom? " (Y/N) asked.

" Don't worry about her. I don't want you to go back to her. I don't want you to go through the abuse. And as soon as I can, I will file for full custody. Nobody deserves to be abused like that.

[bethanydelleman]

Ranking Jane Austen heroines/women on how good of a mother they’d be?

As with the men, I think they would all be good mothers, though in different ways.

Elizabeth Bennet: Soccer mom, she wasn't given the opportunity to have a structured education herself, it will be different for her kids. She's hiring the best governess she can find (after Darcy does a full background check), she's encouraging her kids to do extracurriculars, they will speak six languages that she doesn't understand or else! Has a minor panic attack if she says anything that sounds even remotely like something either of her parents would say.

Jane Bennet: Gentle mom, she cannot imagine punishing her children, she just has a killer disappointed face (she is unaware of this). Encourages her children to always try to understand both sides of the story. Will eventually fall for a lie one of her children tells and be devastated when she figures out the truth.

Anne Elliot: Perfect mother, there is indeed no one so proper, so capable as Anne. She has also watched her sister do everything wrong and she knows exactly how to do it right.

Emma Woodhouse: Scatterbrained mom, makes a resolution to teach her daughter fancy work but then gets distracted and the sampler is left half finished. Promised to read with her son but they only make it halfway through the novel. Good thing she hired an excellent "Miss Taylor" to pick up the slack! And despite her occasional screw-ups, her kids love her to pieces. They just better be on guard when they hit 18 and she starts trying to marry them off.

Marianne Dashwood: Crunchy mom, or whatever the Regency period equivalent would be. She wants her kids to feel the dead leaves between their toes, she encourages them to write poetry and play moving ballads. Otherwise, a lot like her own mother (they have very similar personalities)

Elinor Dashwood: I-Say-I-Love-You-With-Food Mom, she may not be exactly emotionally available, but she orders her daughter's favourite meal when she's sad and there are tiny hearts in the stiches of her son's clothes. She makes sure her kids are provided for, educated, and healthy. When she asks if they are hungry, they know she's saying, "I love you."

Fanny Price: Nurturing mom, she will be everything for those children that Edmund and William were to her, but nothing like Sir Thomas, Lady Bertram, Mrs. Norris or her own parents. She has a good deal of experience from nursing her own siblings so it's a pretty smooth beginning.

Catherine Morland: Overconfident mom, Catherine has been there and done that, she has six younger brothers and sisters after all, she's READY! This will be easy! All you have to do is make sure the baby is fed, washed, changed, and napped... oh... it's a lot harder to do this when you have only slept for 2.5 hours last night... (I know she would have servants, but still, being a new mother is tough!)

Bonus: Jane Fairfax tries to keep Frank from spoiling the kids, but it is literally impossible. He keeps buying them huge presents and then she would be the bad guy for saying no. Also, she knows that Frank lost their child in Kensington Gardens (twice), that's why she always insists he take a footman now.

Bonus bonus: Harriet Smith has a special box where she keeps all the 'treasures' her kids collect. It is her most precious possession.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Friends Reunite

It is here! The moment has arrived! @spotaus are you ready friend?!

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

I don't think we need an introduction to this part :3

*----------------*

Nightmare watches out from the porch as he waits. They are waiting for Horror to finish putting their tools away.

As they wait Nightmare pulls on his clothes. feeling very nervous.

Killer grins "You look fine nighty."

Nightmare frowns "i guess..." he is wearing some of his new clothes. nice colourful ones. Things he never really wore. warm orange and pink today. it is loose and pretty. with a few nice ribbons as well.

Cross smiles as he helps him check his outfit "aren't you excited to see your friend again? I thought you missed him?"

Nightmare looks down as he rubs his arm "I do... Ccino is nice..." he isn't sure for a moment but tells them anyway "I was actually... When i thought you guys didn't... want to be near me... I had been on my way to him." he figured if there was any safe place for him it would be Ccino's.

Cross hugs him close "I am still so sorry we left you."

Nightmare shurgs and leans into the touch "you came back." that is what matters. they came back.

Horror walks over and rubs his skull and Nightmare leans into the tocuh with a happy sigh. Horror smiles a thim "ready to go little light?"

Nightmare feels embarrased at that new nickname. Sure he got used to Nightlight by now but little light is still new.

Horror chuckles and pets his skull again "ready?"

Nightmare leans into it still and nods "okay." he really wants to see Ccino. see if ccino still sees him as a friend.

after everything

after not visiting for so long.

after... now that he is different.

He doesn't fight it as Killer picks him up and holds him close "You sure you feel okay? Spine fine?"

Nightmare rolls his eye lights and nods "I feel fine." his spine only aches nowadays. Yet none of them seem willing to let him walk around a lot.

Nightmare doenst mind honestly. It is nice to be close to them and be held. like a long hug. it just feels nice and warm and safe.

Cross takes out his knife and cuts the fabric of the universe. a portal opens and cross smiles "ready to go."

And they step through.

The leave the warm autumn air for a chiller spring air and nightmare shivers slightly. Not truly becuase he is cold but mostly because he hadn't expected the sudden change.

Killer just holds him closer.

They are in an alleyway and Nightmare can see both Dust and Cross look around the corner. Nightmare feels so nervous. he tries to get any wrinkles out of his clothes as he waits.

What if Ccino didn't want to meet him again?

What if he was angry?

what if he hated him now?

Dust looks back at them "store is closed as we requested. I don't see anyone near."

Killer looks deeply unhappy but then he looks at Nightmare and sighs "okay. lets do this." still nightmare can feel himself be pulled closer and his face is hidden by killer's shoulder, making it a lot harder to see.

they move around and walk over.

he hears nothing for a while before a familiar voice speaks up.

"Wow you really are quiet..."

That is ccino. Oh no... maybe this was a mistake?

Dust hums "I pride myself on being quiet and unnoticable. I see you wanted to do this meeting after all."

Ccino sounds unamused as he answers "of course i do! But... i can't help but notice i don't see nightmare."

huh. guess killer is hiding himself and nightmare both behind the others.

DUst sounds unbothered "oh he is here. I just need to make sure nothing here could endanger him."

This time ccino actually sounds mad and insulted "I would never bring harm or danger to someone."

a moment of silence before Dust answers sounding very amused "good answer. Then I hope you also understand that all of this will stay between us and a secret from the multiverse as a whole?"

Ccino huffs "obviously."

Dust probably does something like a nod because the next thing he says is just Killer's name.

Nightmare feels killer move and probably step out into the open.

A dead silence around them. Nightmare takes a deep breath and pushes the anxiety down as he pulls back a bit from killer's shoulder and glances at ccino.

Ccino just stares at him. shock clearly on his face as he just takes the sight of him in. But... there is no anger or hurt or hate on his face.

Nightmare slowly raises a hand "hey ccino... it has been a while?"

Ccino shakes before smiling brightly "nightmare! You! It is actually you and you are okay!" then worry "wait are you okay?" he glares at dust "why is he a child?"

Dust shrugs as Cross slowly holds up the old Dreamtale book "yeah... that is a long story... at least as much as we know..."

Ccino looks between them before sighing but then he smiles "guess we can all just sit and talk? I will get the drinks and snacks."

nightmare leans against killer and the stress leaves his body. it is okay. ccino isn't mad. he doesn't hate him.

This is fine.

--

Nightmare pets one of the many cats that had swarmed him. all of them being the cat versions of his dads who all try to nuzzle and clean him.

Nightmare looks abck and notes that his dads are done explaining the situation to ccino. well as much as they know and understand it.

Dust's cat has disappeared a while ago but the other three are making up for it as they refuse to leave his side.

Ccino leans back "that... that is a lot..."

Killer snorts "that is putting it lightly. We have just decided to lay low."

cross smiles "yeah! Out of sight out of mind kinda deal. and it worked because they sned out the news about nightmare!"

ccino nods and seems to get it "meaning no one will bother you guys anymore..." he hold shis cup and frowns "then why? why risk any of it and come here?"

Dust shrugs "ngihtmare wanted to."

ccino blinks before smiling and shooting him a look. only to freeze and snort "you okay?" which makes the others also look over and stare in shock. probably noticing the very familiar looking cats.

nightmare speaks up "I think i need assistance..."

Dust is quick to free him from the cats's clutches but it doesn't discourage them as they just follow him again.

ccino chuckles as he hears the very confused questions about why the cats look like them. ccino shrugs "i don't know why. they just kinda show up here. and i can't exactly risk letting them wander and someone else who visits this universe find them."

which he then smiles brightly "This all does explain the new cat so much!"

nightmare blinks and tilts his skull "new cat?"

ccino grins and goes to the counter. he ducks behind it before removing a cat, dust's cat. then he walks over with noot in his arms but... nightmare frowns. his cat version doens't look so great.

Ccino gently lays it in killer's lap and killer immediantly starts petting it "holy... that is nightmare's cat?"

ccino hums and looks amused "from back when he had the god apples yes. but... about a year and a half ago he just got weaker and weaker and weaker."

nightmare puts it together "when i lost the apples's power."

ccino nods "i don't think Noot is your cat... but the apple's cat." ccino grins again and goes behind the counter for another moment before returning again. holding a very tiny kitten and- that is his own eyes staring back at him.

ccino carefully hands the kitten over to nightmare nad nightmare stares confused at his own cat.

ccino grins "i think that is your actual cat version." moments later dust's cat jumps into their laps as well and cleans the kitten's head for a moment before focussing on nightmare himself.

Nightmare shoots Dust a look to please help but Dust just watches him fondly. Not in any way in a hurry to save him from this very obvious and clear problem.

Killer snorts "The cats love you Night night."

Nightmare feels himself start to blush as Ccino nods "They always did. would follow him around and always gravitate towards him no matter where he sat." Ccino grins "Also when he fell asleep. They would refuse to leave his side."

Killer gasps and grins at Nightmare "Nap time with kitties? And you didn't invite me? I am hurt Nighty." he huffs but still grins "To make up for it... mmmmh... I want one of the kitty cuddle pictures." he holds up his camera.

Nightmare feels so embarrased and glares at Killer "Stop that."

Killer pouts "But you would look so cuuuute!" he says it like a whine and pouts "It is unfair he got to see it and not us!"

Nightmare huffs as he crosses his arms, it is slightly harder with Axe in his lap trying to get pets but he manages, "I was in the adult body back then anyway so it wasn't even cute."

Ccino shrugs "I mean. I must admit it was a very different side of your character that no one seemed aware of." he grins and shrugs afterwards as Ngihtmare stares at his friend with betrayal.

Ccino shrugs at the questioning look thrown his way by the others "I don't have pictures. I don't take picutres of customers that is weird. And even if i did i wouldn't do it of nightmare. too much risk someone finds it and realises he came by here a lot." he shrugs again.

Nightmare feels a bit smug and smiles a tiny bit "Told you Ccino was great." it takes a moment before his mind fully catches up and he feels embarresed again.

Ccino looks confused as Horror chuckles and shakes his skull "He is six. Nightmare is sitll getting used to some aspects of it."

Ccino blinks and looks curiously "and he was always six?"

Kilelr nods "Yup!! Just our tiny baby moving around a fake adult body made by god magic."

Ccino nods and looks thoughftul before muttering "explains feeling protective at least..."

Cross looks curious "What do you mean?"

Ccino blinsk and shrugs "after like the first visit? I felt very protective over nightmare. which is weird because god and all that. But this information? I guess my soul picked up on the fact there was an actual child in there even if i didn't know..."

Dust frowns "how could that be possible?"

Ccino shrugs again "Maybe it is because i work with animals a lot? I am already sensitive to their needs and theri shenanigans. Maybe it just included this as well. I am not sure." Ccino grins "It is also very new to me."

Cross frowns at him "How come you are this calm about this all? Nightmare visiting and stuff?"

Ccino blinks and shoots nightmare a look. Ngihtmare watches his friend, having wondered the same thing himself but never wanted to call attention to just how strange it had been.

Ccino looks at them "I just... never saw it as my place to question why the gods did what they do. You can try find logic in things sure... but there is no garentee that they would like... use the same logic as we would use. I figured nightmare was doing stuff for a reason and eventually i heard about balance stuff through the gossip and figured it was that." he rubs his cheek. "My biggest worry is honestly keeping the cats out of the cat treats. They are crafty."

Killer laughs and Nightmare watches his family actually relax and enjoy themselves.

See? This is why Nightmare loves Ccino's place. it is nice and peaceful and safe. It was why Nightmare had been planning on coming here after all.

Not that it ever came to that.

Ccino ends up going to the counter and retrieving some cake. Nightmare sits up and stares at the treat. it is his favourite! it is a vanilla cake with some peach frosting.

Ccino grins and gives everyone a piece and Nightmare happily starts eating his.

Ccino puts down a cup and Nightmare reaches for it only to frown "No coffee?"

Ccino laughs "Sorry Nightmare. I figured giving a six year olf caffeine isn't the best choice."

ngihtmare glares nad mutters "technically i am like 556..."

ccino looks unimpressed "Say that to your body, mind, magic and how all of our souls react to the sight of you. enjoy your chocolate milk." and he goes back to giving everyone else their drinks.

Nightmare grumbles but sips it. it is so warm and sweet and nightmare forgets his frustration as he enjoys his treats.

THe shop is warm and nice. it is all so familiar and the treats are just like that. his body relaxes and he feels so warm and happy.

Safe.

He is really safe... isn't he?

his treat is gone before he knows it and he tries to focus on the conversation of the others but it is all just warm and he feels so safe and he had been worried but there was no reason to worry at all.

He yawns and leans back against the large chair he is on. petting one of the cats near him as his sockets slowly close.

--

A soft plof gets their attnetion and they turn only to freeze.

holy shit.

Killer grins as he slowly pulls out his phone.

Nightmare had fallen asleep and has rolled up with some of the cats. One being his kitten version. the goop cat sits by his skull. clenaing him.

Killer aims the phone and siletnly takes a picture. that is 100% going on their picture wall!

Ccino grins and whispers "told you it happens."

Killer finishes taking the pictures and just leans against the chair. Nightmare is sound asleep. clearly the stress was higher than they thoguht it was if he is already this tired again. poor babybones.

Ccino gets to work on cleaning the plates and killer watches as Cross quickly offers the help him. Killer goes to play with the cats for a bit as dust and horror watch over their babybones.

God the cats are all so cute. though he can't pick a favourite. the others relax but it is very quickly time to go.

Dust gets up and mutters "we shoudl go. get him in bed so he can rest."

Ccino looks thorn but nods "Yeah. I get that- oh wait a second! I will be right back." and he rushes off.

Cross frowns "Why didn't he teleport."

Ngihtmare yawns as he rubs his sockets "Ccino can't teleport." he yawns againa s he leans against Dust in his hold "going home?"

Dust nods and nuzzles the tiny skull "That is the plan. you feeling oaky?"

Nightmare hums and nods "Yeah."

Ccino rushes back in and sighs in relieve "oh you guys are still here. good." he joins their side and grins as he holds up a set of keys. just two. Nihgtmare looks up confused but holds out his hand and Ccino places the keys in there. "for emergencies."

Nightmare looks at the keys confused before looking at Ccino.

Dust shoots him a look as well "what is that about?"

Ccino rolls his eye lights "calm down. As i said. It is for emergencies. if anything happens and he needs to hide anywhere. he can come here. I just want him to have his own set of keys in case i am not here." he huffs "I had been planning on giving him a set ages ago but... well... he couldn't visit for a while."

Killer huffs "We have a safe place and home." who the hell does this guy think he is?!

Ccino just looks at him unimpressed "Wasn't your hide out also safe?"

silence.

Ccino sighs as he rubs his face "Look. It is just a backup. just in case he needs to hide somewhere for a while. people won't expect him here."

okay... maybe that can work. Killer still shoots him a glare before nodding "fine." but if this guy even thinks about stealing their babybones...

Nigthmare however smiles a tiny bit "thanks ccino... means a lot..."

Ccino smiles and looks a bit more nervous "Can I hug you goodbye? I get it if you don't want that."

Ngihtmare considers it for a moment but nods as he looks at Dust. Dust watches Ccino for a moment but ends up handing over the tiny babybones.

Ccino just holds and hugs ngihtmare close and shakes slightly "I am so happy you are okay."

Nightmar ehums and seems to think for a moment before speaking "When... when i left the hideout... before they found me again.. I was on my way here."

Ccino blinks and looks surprised as Killer freezes.

He hadn't been making his way to dreamtale. Holy shit they had gotten so lucky that they managed to catch up with him.

Killer can't even be mad or jeaous about it. He feels a bit sad but even that is undeserved. They had deserted him. Left him behind when he was vulnerable. Of course he was trying to get to the one place that could give him shelter and safety.

Ccino laughs and nuzzles the tiny skull "You are always welcome here. You all are. I am happy to be able to call you my friend."

Ngihtamre blinks before smiling brightly. then he turns back and reaches for Dust. Dust immediantly moves forwards and takes their babybones back and only seeing dust holding him again calms Killer fully down.

Killer had never considered that nightmare had been any other end destination but Dreamtale. He had always figured that if they hadn't found Nightmare along the way they would have foudn him there.

Aparently it wouldnt have been that easy.

Nightmare would have gone here. to an AU they hadn't even been aware of. hiding away from preying eyes with someone who had no trouble lying through his teeth to anyone and everyone.

There is no way they would have found him. Not fast enough at least. Not fast enough before Ngihtmare got fully settled and comfortable. counting on someone else but them.

Ccino is unaware of the actual crisis this interaction caused. or maybe he is aware and he is just good at acting as if he doesn't know. He reassures them that he won't tell antoher soul about their visit and if they want to come by just send a message and they can figure it out.

The trip home is silent.

They enter their house and Dust goes straight to the nest where he rolls up with nightmare.

Nightmare looks up at him sleepy and confused "dad?"

and the doubt melted away. Killer fully relaxes and sees his mates do the same thing. Dust smiles nad nuzzles their babybones "Nothing. did you ahve a good day?"

Nightmare nods and yawns again before pushing himself closer to dust "yeah...."

dust hums and nzuzles the tiny skull "How is your spine?"

ngihtmare looks a bit more grumpy as he is kept away from his nap time "it is fine. doesn't hurt."

dust nods and nuzzles him "that is good."

Killer watches his mate and child fall asleep. All is well. their baby is happy and has a friend.

And now that he thinks about it? It is actually really good that they had a back up spot just in case.

Killer does not trust the multiverse with his mates and child.

*----------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Yandere Professor Hannibal Lecter x Female Reader

Chapter: Dog Days.

When your ex Professor Hannibal Lecter kidnapped you after you finished your school semester as his student, you were at first rebellious. Quite the fighter.

The first meal Professor Lecter cooked for you was none other than Oxtail Soup. He wouldn't let you feed yourself. That annoyed you.

Smiling, he used the spoon to fill it with the tasty liquid and held it to your lips. "Say 'ahh'.''

You blew into the spoon and it caused the hot water to splash onto the face of Professor Lecter.

He hissed in pain. He then put the bowl and spoon down. He slapped you hard across the face.

You were shocked. You clutched your face and felt a bruise forming on your cheek. No one ever raised their hand to you. Not even your own father.

"Listen, Bitch." Professor Lecter grabbed the bottom of your chin to make you look up at him. "I am trying my best and I will not tolerate disrespect."

For you whimpered as tears flowed down your eyes. How frightened you were of this man.

Professor Lecter's expression softened in pity and you think regret. He sighed as if he was tired. 

"Please cooperate." He held a spoonful of soup again. 

Slowly, you opened your mouth and sipped.

The next morning, you felt weird. You couldn't understand the feeling. It wasn't pleasant. It was, in fact, ugly. Your head hurt and it was spinning like a dark and creepy carousel.

Your throat itches and feels dry. The worst was your temperature. Both overly warm and then cold. Switching on and off. Causing you to be confused. You were sick.

Lecter wanted to make up for slapping you. He knew this was to be expected. I mean he did kidnap you and it was natural to be scared. He felt foolish for losing his temper.

But, his whole life he was respected. His parents spoiled him and would never refuse him. He was popular at school. And when he became an adult and then a successful Psychiatrist, he was always worshiped and respected.

He didn't like this new treatment.

He wanted you to love him back.

Lecter wanted to remove that chain you were wearing and live a normal life with him as his wife.

Well, he wants you to homeschool his future kids. Other than that, he wants a normal life.

Lecter had to wake early to go grocery shopping. He doesn't eat sugar. Only meat and vegetables.

He got the ingredients to make heart shaped pancakes.

He went to Pinterest to cook simple pancakes. He never cooked pancakes before and didn't want to screw it up. This was new to him. 

Lecter tried his best. He assumed it was okay. He added strawberries and powdered sugar. It looked decent.

He felt nervous. Normally, he was always confident in everything. With you, it was the opposite. He felt insecure. Oh, well. He shrugged his shoulders. Maybe it is because he loves you. In novels and movies, he read that people feel stupid all the time around their crush.

Taking the tray, he added soy milk and gummy vitamins. He walked down the stairs to the basement.

He saw you curled in bed. "Wake up, my dear. It is time to eat." Lecter announced in an authoritative voice.

When you didn't answer, he clenched his jaw in annoyance. The hard way again? So be it. Lecter settled down the tray on the expensive glass coffee table and walked over to you.

He ripped the blanket off your body. And to his surprise, you were still as a stone. That confused him. He felt your forehead and to his horror, you were burning up.

That caused his heart to pound in fear. You were sick! He then checked your pulse and opened your eyelid. A high fever you had. Lecter then covered you back with the blanket and went upstairs for medicine. 

Over the past two hours, Lecter tended to your every need. He gave you pain killers and fed you chicken soup instead. You got better.

But, still weak. Your ex Professor was currently sitting next to your bed pressing a wet rag against your forehead.

You poor thing. He thought. He held your hand lovingly and watched you. 

To his surprise, you began talking in your sleep. He blinked in curiosity. He didn't understand what you were saying at first. Now, he heard it loud.

"Mummy."

Ouch. You missed your mother. Lecter sighed. First you wouldn't accept his love, you reject him, he hits you, and now you are sick.

Everything was going wrong.

He is lost and doesn't know what to do.

Covering his face with his hands and resting his elbows on his knees, the stress and worry of your health caused something strange to him.

He felt tears sliding down his wrinkled face.

The thought of you dying was the worst thought. He cannot imagine you leaving him permanently. That was why he took you away in the first place.

"Why are you punishing me, Name?"

[snootlestheangel]

The backburner idea I mentioned in my recent ask thing even though no one asked for more cause it's weighing on my brain today

Where the Riley family is still alive ft. Roach

This actually has self-harm mentions, some homophobia

Ghost who keeps a good relationship with his family, his brother especially. A lot of the people he knows outside of work and would consider his friends are people he met through Tommy. However, one of these people is Gary Sanderson, whom he went through many of his early military years with, and who was there to pull the Riley family from the house fire.

Roach, Ghost, and a third mutual friend of theirs named Jason all live together in a little place out in the middle of fucking nowhere. (Apparently there's a Jason guy in one of the black ops games and I did not know that until just now so these two are NOT correlated)

Ghost who practices semi healthy coping mechanisms: such as doing productive things rather than destructive. He's a damn good soldier and he uses that to his advantage: his therapist understands this and basically "ordered" he find different coping mechanisms. Every time he's home and feels the need for a cig, clean the floors or some shit. Baking is his way of coping with suicidal thoughts/self harm. Jason (goes by Jay) usually rats him out to Tommy when he sees Simon baking, and the three of them (Roach, Jay, Tommy) all hang out while Simon bakes. Mostly cause it makes him feel better about baking cause there are multiple people there to eat what he makes, and it helps him know he's not alone. Tommy doesn't leave until Simon starts washing all the dishes and utensils used.

Except Simon finds out he really loves baking, and Drunk!Simon especially loves showing off that yes despite his lack of sobriety he can make some killer brownies. And sometimes Jason makes the panicked call to Tommy before realizing it's only drunk Simon, and oh well, it won't hurt to have more eyes and ears to babysit his ass.

Ghost's little family is scuffed and they've been through some shit, but they're close and they love each other no matter what.

Soap isn't so lucky.

He knows his family would never approve of his sexuality, and he's kept that shit under lock and key for years, decades even. But after coming home from a particularly violent assignment, he's not in the mood to listen to his drunk uncle spout a bunch of his usual homophobic shit.

And he outs himself in the process.

And he's basically told to walk out and never look back.

He's in a real dark place, and makes the desperate decision to call Ghost in the middle of the night in hopes he doesn't do something stupid.

And Ghost has just finished up his last batch of cookies for the night, and has been rather enjoying himself this evening. He's drunk, he's with some of the people he loves most, and he's absolutely in love with the new recipe he's found.

Some shenanigans while Soap and Ghost are on the phone, of course.

I have a couple different ways to approach the rest but I'm cooking up something so I'm gonna keep it to myself for a bit longer

[sol-consort]

Do you see Wrex and shepard together? Because I low-key think they have like sexual chemistry

OH BOY DO I!

It starts as enemies to firends to lovers, but then quickly spirals into forbidden love territory once he acquires the throne.

Remember that first meeting scene in ME1?

When the Citadel C-sec were too intimidated by Wrex to even dare and hold him down? The krogan assumes all humans tend to cower in front of someone his size.

How Shepard literally marches in there, calls him by his first name, then offers to shake his hand so casually? Full of confidence and poise? Not afraid to meet his eyes.

Yeah, that scene? Every single pixel is flooded with sexual and romantic tension.

Both Paragon and Renegade Shepard have the best chemistry with Wrex full stop.

The scene after it where Wrex deliberately disobeys Paragon Shep command to spare this guy's life, shooting him in the head because "he had a contract" Testing the limit to what this human allows him to get away with, pushing boundaries.

How Shep immediately snaps at him, addressing him down as a commander still despite him disrespecting your authority.

Showing him that this isn't the way things work around here, you won't tolerate this act from him a second time. He already used his one chance, and he better be on his best behaviour going forward.

Genuinely catching Wrex off-guard, he never expected the humans to have barks, let alone the power to follow it with bite. A part of him is even a little ashamed of his action, but he'd rather die than apologise to a human he just met, so he just gives a vague promise not to do it again.

Which might seem small, but to a contractual killer krogan who never trusted a single soul ever since he left his planet young, it's so much more.

The first building blocks to the long bridge of trust being established between them was set by Wrex.

And if you finish his target alone without bringing him along, what does Wrex do? He pays you. He hands you what he views as your rightful share for aiding with his job.

It's established early on that Wrex has honour, he has pride and more self-awareness that anyone would ever expect of him. He keeps his temper in control, is more cunning and logical than people expect of a "krogan"

How he doesn't hesitate to leave a situation when something feels off, his intuition and gut feeling had saved his life countless times.

-

You keep trying to have small talks with him whenever you come down to the dock of your ship, and he just doesn't understand why.

What are your intentions? Is it just curiosity from him being the first Korgan you see? Or are you just digging for information out of mistrust, doubting his abilities as a capable mercenary.

He always hated the employers who kept peering over his shoulders, poking their nose into things that do not concer them.

The job you assigned him will get done, stop bothering him.

In fact, that's why he shares the story about his previous employers. The various times he was ruthless just to get a job done, even when he had to face a friend in combat. Painting himself as a hardened soul.

...so why are you looking at him like that?

See? He has no heart, in fact, despite the three pumping in his chest. So are you convinced yet?

Yes, he is the epitome of the big, strong scary Korgan. The same one all the other species warned you so much about.

Instead of being impressed, intimidated, or both. You look at him with concern, as if he's a bird with broken wings that fell into your palm.

You inquire about his homeplanet.

The usual bitterness that threaten to come out in a pile upwards his throat each time he retells this story...is less severe this time around. It's easier to get out, to go more into details around you.

You never interrupt him, you let him talk. Thoughtfully listening, only speaking when it's your turn.

He doesn't know what to say.

By the end, you...apologise.

For someone to finally acknowledge the wrongs that have been done against his own kind, the injustice the krogans continue to suffer to this day.

A salarian would've gone into a long tangent about why it was a necessary evil, an asari would've offered faux pity before reminding him of the shiny statue in the citadel as if that makes up for the billions of krogan stillborns every year. A turian would've acted as this was a righteous punishment, that krogans should never be trusted until they prove they're capable of civility.

But you, human...Shepard, apologised.

Next time you stop by, he doesn't know why he even brings up the family crest. The rotten armour has been buzzing at the back of his mind like an annoying fly.

Wrex just blurted it out, his tongue loose around you for some reason, something he noticed but was still in denial about–either way, you make a promise to retrieve it.

He snorts.

Okay, he'll believe it when he sees it, Shep.

...

..

.

Standing there in front of the platinum wall locker, Wrex claws tremble as he opens the door. The urge to dislodge the thing from its hinges gnaws at the back of his mind, but he resists it. He knows better than to risk damaging the container of what's supposed to be a centuries old piece of armour.

He can't fucking believe his eyes.

It's there, in his hand. As ugly and vile smelling as he imagined.

And you by his side, you pawny little human who invaded this base like a storm, what a deadly force you are.

For the first time in decades, Wrex is hopeful again. Shepard reignited the flame of determination that always were inside him, the same snuffed out so cruelly by his father that forsaken day.

-

He followed you to Virmire, fully ready to risk his life for your cause. Not out of some obligation or contractual work, but because he believed in it, he believed in you, commander.

So why can't you extend him the same courtesy? Why must you oppose him when a cure is practically at the tip of his fingers?

It pains him as he raises the gun, the same sting he felt the day he drove the knife into his father's chest, the same despair wrangling his heart the day he put a bullet through his only friend's skull.

You expressed your sympathy for the tragedy of his people, didn't you? Or was it just a game of pretend to gain his trust?

So why can't you understand!

You of all people! He thought you would understand better than anyone.

But he doesn't pull the trigger.

You raise your gun, both of you know it won't do shit against him. A krogan shell can endure many bullets before any real damage is done, your squishy skin however? Yeah, not so much so.

No. The gun was akin to a flare instead. Gives a good reason for your crew to come running to your aid, for the salarian special unit to herald a shower of bullets upon him under the guise of "defending the human soldiers"

It will spell his doom in a much more painful way than the simple bullet he planned to plant directly into your heart ever could've.

The singular delicate human heart, how small it must be inside your chest. Yet this one fragile organ infected his three sturdy hearts with its determination.

How you risked your one heart for him that day you helped him retrieve his family crest.

Wrex...

is tried.

Beyond anything, he is so tried and sick of constantly fighting all the time.

He lowers his gun.

Yet the soldiers around you don't lower theirs until you do.

He tries not to let it get under his skin.

He fails.

Swallowing his pride, Wrex recollects the remains of his dignity. He must be in control of his emotions, never show too much fury, otherwise the world will weaponise it against him, claiming this is exactly why krogans don't deserve to join the rest of the galaxy yet.

They can choke on his dick.

-

There are just so many other scenes! I can go on forever.

The biggest one of them all, Grunt and how his whole mission could be interpreted as the best romance subplot between Wrex and Shepard.

Shep finds a Krogan teen who's going through puberty and what's your next course of action? Take him to his homeplanet and visit your ex the Krogan you may or may not have had a situationship with, the one you inspired to change his entire life, to go make a difference in the world.

Shep is Wrex's biggest muse, a nymph from the woods that flipped his world upside down. More deadly and dangerous than all the other warriors he has ever seen, as determined and inspiring as the greatest leaders. The krogan equivalent of a warrior angel.

And what does he do when this Valkyrie whom he thought had died walks back into his life so casually?

He is absolutely rejoiced. Couldn't give less of a shit about Cerberus or anything. Shepard is still Shepard, and you're here, alive, well, in front of him. As gorgeous as the day he lost you.

Not only that, but you came with a child. And you're asking him for guidance and help on raising him? Shepard, you shouldn't toy with a man's heart this much. Otherwise, he'll get the wrong impression.

Wrex practically treats Grunt as his own son and adopts him by the end of the mission. Not only that, but there is a big chance the "mating request" sent in for Shepard afterwards was actually Wrex's.

You get to play family for a day. Your son is just as powerful as you are. Wrex gets a glimpse of what it would've been like to raise him by your side, the life he could've had with Shepard.

But he cannot, he has obligations, ones he actually likes this time around. The krogans need a leader, the planet needs restoration. It's time to take responsibility for the state of his homeworld and not just chalk it up to "how krogans always were" Because that's simply not true.

The women remember it, their art, history, and beautiful complex culture. The men have gone senile with the war, Wrex needs to beat some sense into them. He'll drag all the clans with him to a better life whether they like it or not

And part of him...well. He knows you're the one he wants most, but is he the one you really want? Everyone in your crew is already drooling over you, Wrex is more dignified than to be just another obnoxious suiter chasing after you.

Not to mention, it's part of his job to get married to a krogan so the clans get another leader. You're a human, it will never work out. You have your own life, your own obligations and mission to save the galaxy.

It makes his dream to restore his planet pale in comparison, but Wrex isn't so fragile in his security that he'd get intimidated by that. If anything, it makes him yearn for you even more, admire you whole, impressed by your every achievements that outweigh his, rather than trying to dampen your blinding brightness.

Maybe, in the–hopefully near–future, your children and his can play together on this very same land. But instead of rubble, it will be grassy fields, you and Wrex taking a stroll in the gardens nearby while watching over both of your kids.

And for a moment, Wrex can close his eyes and pretend the ring pressing gainst his skin as he holds your hand, is a one that he gave you.

Would it be Wrex Shepard or would you prefer the Urdnot lastname?

Don't tell him.

He'd rather dream.

He earned it, after all that he sacrificed and everything gave in order to restore the glory to his people, he earned the right to dream.

[mfjenks]

my omitb theories (+theories of others i liked combined) by now (after episode 6):

Considering the murder and the trio's escape:

-The trio are not actually the targets. The real targets are stunt doubles (Sazz, Glenn) and the bullet was for Sazz.

-The whole hunt for the trio is a red herring, it's not Sazz's murderer watching them and the person doesn't really want to kill them, but play with them. The same person as in season 1 as the note they got on their phones was the same Oliver got when Winnie was poisoned. Maybe it's Jan at the point even trying to protect them in her own perverted way, watching them, and she really was behind the messages which were not proved to be hers in season 1. Or Charles's sister, who is a fan of the podcast and has a huge crush on Oliver lol.

-They find out they are not really in danger in episode 7 or 8.

-Dudenoff's murder is the cold case Sazz was talking about, and that's why she was killed, beacuse she had found something out. Or it's not connected to her murder at all and he was killed by another person. Or it's a combination of both: it's that cold case, but still different murderers.

-The Brothers sisters, Vince Fish, Christmas guy, Eva, Eugene and Zach are not killers. That creepy family or the writer on the movie are possible.

-Sazz is the one with braids in the photo of Westies, working undercover.

Considering episode 7:

-Oliver leaves Winnie (and Mrs Gambolini? where is she?) to Howard later to be picked by Will. Ends up with Will being involved into Howard's animal jobs podcast lol

-Howard knows the location of the trio. He tells everyone it's a secret, but after being pushed cracks, so everyone knows it and heads to Charles's sister's house, from Loretta to Bev and the actors.

-Charles, Oliver and Mabel turn off their phones not to be tracked down. Hence Loretta can't even call Oliver back, she rushes to NYC with the first plane to explain herself. Loretta finds the house, sees Charles's sister flirting with Oliver, unwillingly becomes a centre of all the chaos going on in this damn house, Oliver avoids her still thinking she doesn't want to be with him and she came to play with him or break up, she doesn't understand what the hell is going on and becomes jelaous, until they both snap, revealing their insecurities, reconcile, talk about how much they mean to each other and he proposes once again.

Considering some photos from the set (if you know what I mean):

-Oliver and Loretta get married in episode 9. She leaves to LA for a small period of time to finish some shooting scenes there straight after the wedding.

Considering the finale:

-Loretta takes part in some kind of reenactment of events, made to reveal the killer, because of the resemblance with Sazz's cover-up (the braids). Maybe Sazz even got inspired by her appearance, hence the fact she followed her on Instagram.

-Loretta leaves gnorfbun and gets some offers which require shooting (or could be theatre) mostly in NYC. So she can spend most of her time in NYC and live with Oliver, but also can go somethere for shorter periods of time, so she doesn't have to be in all the episodes in season 5.

-Some time skip to Christmas takes place after the murder is solved and the podcast is finished. The premiere of the movie takes place. Someone gets murdered at the Arconia straight after the premiere.

-Possible victims: Teddy (important person to Oliver from his past (Mabel had Tim, Charles had Sazz), gives some potential for development of Theo's character and his relationships with Mabel), Uma

[kopivie]

share some hades!wrio headcanons? I'm actually SO invested i'm going to die

oh! i think i can come up with a few! it'll probably be some facts about him, and maybe some writing? (note: i'm coming back after finishing this and.. i got so carried away.)

(also as a side note, if i were to write a fic about this, i might use a lot of greek/ancient greek terms and words, so if you see something like that, please don't be alarmed.)

first and foremost, i'm definitely clinging to That One Part of wriothesley's canon lore of him abandoning the name given to him before his murder trial. canonically, he just picked up the name "wriothesley" from an obituary because he didn't want to use the one his foster parents gave him. what that name was, we will probably never know (unless it's said in his story quest, which i haven't done yet.) that said, allow me to jump into my hades!wriothesley hcs :D

"wriothesley" is a name that very few actually use. much like canon, people often refer to him as "your grace". however, he has many, many monikers; "the duke of meropide" and "king of the underworld" are just two of many.

underworld residents (or to overworlders, meropide prisoners) coined a bunch of new terms to refer to the elusive duke: aides or aidoneus (meaning "the unseen" or "the invisible one"), orcus (meaning "killer" or "the one who kills"), ditis pater/dis pater/dis (all meaning something along the lines of "rich one"), or clymenus (meaning "the illustrious" or "the revered one")

note: these are all actual names used to refer to hades in greek mythology.

no one calls him those names to his face or in his presence. those names are spoken in whisper -- saying any of those names seems to evoke a physical reaction to anyone who may have been in the fortress long enough to understand the weight behind those names.

hades!wriothesley is not a benevolent being. he is extremely objective. he seldom makes emotional decisions, which leads people to believe that at times, he has no emotions to speak of. (which isn't true, obviously.) his impartial decisions have cost many a life.

i think that because he doesn't rely on his emotions when making many decisions, that is the reason why he goes overboard when it comes to you. it's a little like shaking an unopened soda bottle for an hour and then suddenly opening the top.

wriothesley's love overflows, it gushes, it stains everything it touches. it seeps into every pore and changes you from the inside out. the problem with this, however, is that you resist this change initially.

you are receptive to his... i don't wanna call it advances, since that often has a negative connotation. wriothesley is anything but pushy and inappropriate. he's gentlemanly and chivalrous, so much so that you almost want to scream sometimes. let's call it courting — you allow him to court you, although you keep him at a distance.

why do you keep him at a distance? i... don't really know. perhaps someone can send in a suggestion. but the point is that you don't fully indulge yourself -- sometimes you do, but you become slightly distant and apologetic afterwards. wriothesley understands and is happy to be patient with you, but...

i think my suggestion for your hesitancy would be that you can feel the love that he exudes, and it scares you. you're afraid of what might happen if you allow yourself to sink too deep.

and that... that is probably why you resent him when he takes you to the fortress. that's part of the reason, anyhow. you were afraid of drowning and he literally took you to the bottom of the sea. in a metaphorical sense, he basically tied a brick to your ankles and dragged you down to his own depths against your will. you can't fight, you can't resist -- you can only endure. that is why you're angry with him.

"why do you resent me so?"

hades has the audacity to ask you such a question as you study a flower that he'd brought back from his latest visit to the overworld. you hadn't known of his departure, but when he gifted you this fresh plant, you felt something ugly and bitter stir within you. you became fixated on it, deciding to hole yourself up in your room to spend time with the only thing that gave you peace. you don't react to his question.

he stays quiet for a while, but he doesn't leave. after about five minutes, he inquires again. "please, blossom. i must know. i just wish to make you happy."

you all but slam your hand down on your desk. "happy? you want to make me happy?" you haven't raised your voice, but your tone is as icy as the vision that dangles from his clothing. "set me free. let me go home."

wriothesley is quiet again. "...will you at least look at me?"

the wetness in your eyes forces you to shake your head. "you haven't earned my gaze."

"and what must i do to earn it?"

"i've already told you."

"what else must i do?"

that gets you to turn around. "why are you so stubborn? what is preventing you from letting me go? you yourself can wander between the realms freely, but i can't?" your eyes sting with unshed tears, though the sensation doesn't last long. your frame trembles as you cry, and wriothesley cups your face to wipe the tears away. "do not touch me." you hiss at him.

wriothesley gives you a humorless smile. "you're not pushing me away."

...he's right. why aren't you pushing him away? "you haven't earned the right to touch me."

"haven't i?" hades is leaning in closer. you can smell peppermint on his breath. did he drink tea before coming? his thumb caresses your cheek. your eyes list to the side. "blossom," he calls you. "please."

you have a hard time resisting when he begs you like this. you hate how you let him get away with murder. he's trapped you here against your will, denied you of your freedom, and yet you still allow him to treat you like a deity. you allow him to do as he pleases. you don't feel threatened by him, no -- what you feel is his sincerity. his longing. his love.

you lock eyes with wriothesley. he's sharing a breath with you now. "wh-what do you want?" you ask. "you've already taken everything from me. how greedy can one man be?"

wriothesley's eyes glimmer in the lamplight. you can feel his gaze drop to your lips. his voice is noticeably deeper when he asks, "do you want to find out?"

you're not sure what you feel when he kisses you. the kiss is soft, sweet, and tastes of peppermint. his lips are warm, as is the rest of him. he licks into your mouth slowly and patiently, and you don't fight him.

because really, you've never wanted to push him away. you want to accept wriothesley for who he is, bloodied hands and all. you want him almost as bad as he wants you. and yet you just can't accept him in his entirety-- not as he is now. not when he's secretive and evasive. but his affection gives you some reprieve; his love gives you peace overwhelming, so much so that you let your own feelings shine through in moments like these.

you end the kiss first. you pull away, breathless, though you notice that he doesn't move an inch. after a brief silence, you finally speak. "you're too much for me." you murmur. "you'll be death of me."

wriothesley takes your hands in his. "for as long as i rule the underworld," he replies, "death will never find you. and that's a promise."

(also obligatory catte tag bc i need a fellow wrio lover to see this 🫡🩷 @catcze)

(p.s.: lemme know if i shouldn't tag you in this stuff, okay?)

[idyllcy]

vanilla soft serve

Word count: 14.7k

Warnings: smut

Summary: you smile foolishly, the smile of a loser in love

Nagito Komaeda doesn't like himself.

He feels he's established it a lot with his class already. There was little to question when the island only had 16 students and two of them were already dead. Though, he supposes that it isn't that much. He wonders who's going to feed him. He scared Mahiru out, after all. Maybe Mahiru would die from the second motive! That would surely bring his class hope, would it not? He shifts uncomfortably on the wood, trying to get on his back. How pathetic of him.

Little light spills through the room. He had forgotten to ask Mahiru to turn the lights on before she left. He gives up halfway, staring up at the ceiling instead. Would you visit him? His precious little lover? Maybe you would. Who knows. You seemed pretty fine when he had gone insane during the first trial. Maybe you'd leave him for another ultimate. Maybe Hajime? Who knows. Trash like him doesn't deserve to hang on to you anyways. You're such a symbol of hope, yet you were dirtying yourself with him.

The door to the room opens, and the light turns on. He hears you cough twice.

"Did you come to visit trash like me?"

You ignore his words.

Ah. You're mad.

Komaeda holds his breath as you step in front of him, staring down at him. You crouch to his level, buttering the toast, crossing your legs, holding the bread to his lips.

"Angel, are you ma-"

You shove the food in his mouth, forcing him to chew. You stare blankly at him as he does, and he swallows. You press the cup of water to his lips, being kind enough to give him a straw. Komaeda drinks without speaking, understanding that you wanted some sort of quiet. He finishes the rest of the food with your help, staring at you blankly once the tray is finished.

"I'm sorry." The word feels dry on his lips, and he keeps his head hung.

You stare at him for what seems like forever before you stand up with the tray. "I'll be back for lunch."

Komaeda watches the door to the room close, but the light remains.

How kind of you.

You come back during lunch as promised; this time, the atmosphere much gentler.

"Open up," You blow on the rice and meat, holding it to Komaeda's lips. He chews, sitting up this time, his stomach in less pain. He was bony all over, now that he thought about it. You stare at the way his skin sticks to his ribs, and you get another spoonful of rice.

The two of you sit there, Komaeda eating silently, and you lost in thought. You finish the bowl, no rice left behind, and you help the straw to Komaeda's lips. He finishes the juice and pauses.

"Do... you have the key?"

"Give it a moment." You wait for the body announcement to be made, and Komaeda watches as you have Monomi untie him. You follow behind him as he rushes to the bathroom first.

You're still not talking to him.

You wait outside the door as he finishes, and he takes your hand as you reach out to him. You step to the game, and you play. Komaeda instructs you from behind, and the two of you finish. You stare at the prize. Between the killing and executions, Komaeda wonders if you even like him all that much. You hand him the image, and you stare at him. Ah, you want him to talk.

"Well," Komaeda smiles. "I know who the killer is."

"I know you do." You stare at the picture in your hands.

Komaeda thinks you've been strange. Ever since meeting him in middle school, the only thing you had obsessed over was what year it was and what would happen. You had gone to the point of obsessing it to the point of madness, Komaeda thinks. The only thing you had ever talked about when you woke up on the island was who was going to reveal what and what was going to happen to who. You had accurately predicted the death of Twogami, revealing Teruteru as the killer, yet Komaeda had gone mad anyways. You had told him to stay sane during the trip. It wouldn't be the first time someone's been frustrated with him.

Komaeda feels something familiar for you.

You stare at the photo with such a strong sense of nostalgia that it seems hard to believe that it could be anything else. Nagito Komaeda knew something that you did as well. Maybe that was why you picked him. He had the fastest brain that even Hinata couldn't use. Maybe he was meant to be a pretty tool to display in your arsenal that you would never touch. You never let him touch you first, and you never let him do anything without consulting you first. It was as if you had to control what he did.

Yet, he doesn't find it in himself to question you.

He had spent a year in Hope's Peak with you. What did you mean he was eighteen? It was already messed up from the start to you, maybe. Komaeda had watched you panic and only calm down when the future seemed to play out how you predicted it would. You were terribly anxious, chewing on your lips and biting your nails. Komaeda wonders if you had just dated him in order to have a caretaker. Komaeda supposes he spoils you rotten. Well, nothing wrong with spoiling an ultimate.

"What's wrong?" He stares at you as you stare at the sun.

"I miss my home."

Right. There was that too. You had always mumbled quietly when you were fazed out, silently praying for something to kill you. Komaeda didn't understand why you wanted to die so desperately. You were an ultimate, and you had everything you had seemed to want, yet you always talked about home. You missed... your home. It was strange to think that the only constant in his life was desperate to leave him. Maybe he was just destined to be alone.

You had stuck next to him even as Hinata was passed out, and you had rocked on your feet anxiously as he had met the other students, memorizing voice lines and counting fingers. You seemed to hate when you were unfamiliar with things. Komaeda held a hand over yours when you ran out of fingers, helping you keep count of whatever it was you were counting. When you counted to sixteen, you had stopped. You had looked at Komaeda, lips pulled into a frown. "Complete."

Komaeda's handbook had struck a chord when you finished meeting everyone and told him it was complete. His memory of you wasn't like that the more he thinks about it. You had always tried staying positive in the past, even when you seemingly appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the street, head spinning. You didn't know what he was saying. You didn't understand him. You were just a foreigner lost in the streets of Tokyo, and Komaeda had been kind enough to take you in. There was nothing more to it, and there was nothing less.

It's strange to think that you were now fluent in Japanese after only a handful of lessons from Komaeda.

When Komaeda won the lottery into Hope's Peak, you had written a letter to the Steering Committee, claiming you were an isekai victim. Komaeda had vouched, and after some digging into records, yours didn't come up, leading to your admittance. He doesn't know what you had to do in order to join the school, but when you headed home quietly and slumped into the pillows, he knew better than to ask.

The ultimate unknown.

You hated the title, but you had accepted it. In exchange, you were to reveal nothing to the class and stay silent at all times. Komaeda had watched you stop talking to the class, going mute, only communicating with your body language. Even when you had asked Komaeda out, it had been through drawing on his palm away from the sight of the rest of the school. He didn't understand why you had listened to them so thoroughly or why you had grimaced whenever you saw the underclassmen. Though, Komaeda doesn't remember who the underclassmen were either.

His second year at Hope's Peak was on an island. There was no way he would know.

On the island, you still kept silent. The class knew you were quiet, so no one questioned it, but Komaeda had hoped you would at least speak to him. You didn't like to. You spoke even less when he pissed you off. You had known that he would kill Twogami and tried to interfere, and the only thing that resulted in was the murder being pinned on you. Komaeda had half-expected that you would thank him when he explained he planned it, but instead, you had stared quietly at him. It was as if you hadn't cared that he was pining the blame on you and taking it back.

When you had searched the body, you had stared at Komaeda. You hadn't spoke, but you had mouthed the words. He knew what you meant. He definitely knew what you meant. You were just waiting for him to make the decision himself. Even as he was being dragged off and begging for you to understand, you had stared lifelessly at him. It was as if you were desensitized and didn't care at all. Komaeda doesn't know how a person like you exists.

You were weird.

You wander into Mahiru's room, staring at Komaeda, telling him to investigate without a word.

Komaeda thinks he was chosen to be your servant as you leave the cottage.

Yet, as you smack him in the back of his head and bow to Chiaki and Hinata in apology, he thinks you take more than enough responsibility.

Before the trial, you always scribble down what you can and can't remember to hand to Hinata. It's a cheat sheet that Komaeda isn't allowed to look at. He wonders if they're love letters sometimes, but as you're crying and holding back quiet tears in your cottage in the dead of night, he leaves you be. Even if it was a love letter, he wasn't going to let you keep everything to yourself. Hinata had pushed through each trial without error, and Komaeda suspects that you had been behind everything. You were the puppetmaster, maybe.

You even got to punt Monokuma when you were mad enough.

Though, Komaeda stares at you during trials, forming words with your hands and crossing your arms when a student got something wrong. You were charismatic. He didn't deserve you, the class didn't deserve you, the world didn't deserve you. You knew what was going to happen, clinging onto Fuyuhiko with your life as he tried running to Peko, face burrowed into his arm as the rest of the class helped you hold him back. You couldn't speak in front of them, Komaeda had realized. You pull on Komaeda's sleeve desperately. He supposes that's all you need to do.

"Do not atone for a crime you did not commit." Komaeda reads your eyes. "You must survive for her. You must survive for Peko..." Komaeda gets on a knee to wipe the tears from your eyes. "The crime was not instigated by you, so there is no need to-"

"What do you mean it wasn't instigated by me?! I was the one who told her to kill her!"

"A lie." Komaeda holds you to his chest as you cry quietly. "It's a lie. She killed her out of her own volition."

"She-"

You pass out in Komaeda's arms, and Fuyuhiko grabs him by the shirt as Chiaki reaches to catch you.

Ah.

"I was just conveying my angel's words." Komaeda holds his hands up innocently.

You wake up the next morning to Hiyoko's memorial for Mahiru. The class berates the girl as you blow out the candles and replace them one by one. You have Nekomaru help you remove the skull, replacing it with flowers instead. You finish by the time of the announcement that a new island had popped up. Komaeda stares at the memorial, and you pull him with you as you go explore the new island. He praises you quietly under his breath, and you answer quietly too. You stick close to Fuyuhiko with Komaeda, peering at the shorter every now and then to make sure he's alright. Komaeda is almost jealous of how much attention you give him. Yet, you keep Komaeda close anyways.

As expected, the next day, Fuyuhiko tries cutting his stomach open to repent. You react immediately as soon as he speaks, knocking him down and throwing the knife from his hands, cutting your own in the process. You stare at him wide-eyed, holding your hands up in the form of an X. He stares up at you, furious that you would interrupt him, but you stare down at him sternly, only getting up to take the knife before he could. Komaeda watches everything unfold, wondering if he had done something wrong for you to straddle another. He doesn't question it.

Especially not when you press your lips to his cheek later that night before bed as he bandages your hand.

When he wakes up, he brushes his fingers against your hair, mumbling about how pretty you were. You were pretty. He doesn't know what draws him to you, but you're pretty. Maybe he'll wake up every morning to you.

"ah... how filthy," Komaeda doesn't register that his words are coming out wrong. He continues to pour praises about how pretty you are, the fever making it so that he thinks he's praising you. That's when he realizes he's sick. He's feverish all over, and you hadn't spoken when he draped himself on you, eyes fluttering, almost drunk. When the two of you make it to the restaurant, you sit down in a seat, mumbling quietly. You pull him with you as Monokuma explains the new motive. Komaeda's sure he's mumbling nothing but disgusting words into your ear as you support him, but you seem unphased.

As Mikan tends to him in the hospital and you sit in his room, you start speaking.

"Komaeda-kun, I'm sure you won't remember any of this," You hum, turning to look to the side. "But I love you a lot, alright?"

"I hate you too."

Komaeda clings on to you as you sleep next to him, wrapping his hand around yours tightly, squeezing it every now and then. He stares down at your sleeping form. He could kill you here. He could end the motive right there. He has a weak body, and he isn't sure if he could survive if he continues to be sick. He loves you a lot; he mumbles. He's pathetically in love with how pretty you are. He wonders if the words reach you.

The days in the hospital are boring at first. You try playing cards with him, only to find that he's too sick to do so. That only feeds your boredom. At some point, you grow so bored that you start playing smash or pass with Komaeda. He has no idea what you mean, but you show him images and recall celebrities, asking Komaeda smash or pass. At some point, you start naming classmates and students.

"Hinata."

"Half pass."

"Me?"

"Pass."

"Really?" You spring out of your seat, eyes wide, staring down at him.

"You heard me. Pass." Komaeda grimaces at you, and you blink at him happily.

"I'd smash you too."

Komaeda really wants to tell you how lovestruck he is with you, but he supposes he doesn't need to as you climb into bed with him. You blink at him curiously, and he moves his hand to pinch your cheeks. He frowns, his mind telling him that he's smiling. He sneers when he thinks he's mumbling, and he coughs when he thinks his breath is caught in his throat. There are so many weird things going on with his body.

"When was the last time we fucked again?"

"We've fucked plenty."

"I guess that makes sense," You close your eyes, leaning your ear on his chest. "Your heart is beating quickly."

"It's 'cause you're disgusting."

"Whatever you say," You drift off, and Komaeda finds himself staring down at you. He wonders what his eyes look like. Does it look the way that his parents and the couples on the street did? Maybe he does. He wonders how much he could love a person. His heart feels as though it's going to burst at any moment. You were... he brushes your hair to the side, pressing his lips to your forehead. Maybe he wouldn't remember this once he recovered.

How pretty.

In the bright morning, Komaeda feels his lungs tighten and starts coughing. You get out of bed, blinking slowly. Ah. You caught it too. Yet, you call Mikan into the room anyways, watching as she starts tending to Komaeda full-time. You try your best to blink the disease off and come off as fine. You don't know how you're acting. Yet as Mikan holds the pillow in her hand, you remember something. You push her to the ground, eyes animalistic, chest heaving, a psychotic grin on your face. You stare down at her, straddling her, nails bloodied with her skin and blood.

Mikan scurries off in fear, and you sit on the ground, blood from Mikan's skin in your nails.

You bite your nails, lucking the blood, staring at Hinata as he enters the room.

By the time you're conscious again, there are two bodies.

Komaeda's the one to wake you. You sit up on the hospital bed, rubbing your eyes as Komaeda stares at you. The room is an eerie shade of white, and your head spins deliriously as you try and recall what had happened. Komaeda stands there, staring down at you, waiting for you to adjust to the feeling of being conscious again. You hold on to him as you steady yourself, and your mouth opens as you're conscious again.

"Two people died."

You nod slowly.

"Come on."

You follow Komaeda as he starts investigating, and you glance at the two dead bodies. Ibuki is hung on the rope, and you stare up at her body as Hinata lowers it to the floor. You stare quietly; lifelessly; almost as if you were the body itself. You don't feel real, still. Komaeda rubs his hand on your back gently, and you blink slowly. Then, you stare at Hiyoko's body as the ladder is put up to search the body and check for clues. You have a couple of hours, you think. You know who the killer is, and you were so sure that Komaeda might have died if you had not stayed in the same room as him. The rest of the class decides to search for more evidence elsewhere as you and Komaeda stay behind.

"It's a shame," You mumble under your breath as Komaeda searches Ibuki's body. "I liked Ibuki too."

Komaeda stares at you.

"Do you like me too?"

You only nod in response.

He doesn't remember. Komaeda thinks he's forgetting something as he progresses through the investigation. He did something with you. You did something with him. You call Hinata with movie tickets, waving your hand for him. You leave Komaeda in his place as you enter the movie theatre with Hinata. Komaeda only knows to wait outside the theatre, and halfway through the movie, you open the door to pull him in as well. Maybe you didn't forget him. Though, Hinata was sitting next to you. It makes him uncomfortable.

Hinata looks frazzled as you sit back next to him, and you tilt your head.

It was a bad movie, according to Hinata. You point at the ticket, and Komaeda opens his mouth to help you translate. Hinata cuts him off.

"Keep the ticket, right? Thank you," Hinata smiles.

Komaeda gets insecure easily, now that he thinks about it. He stares at you as you slip something to Hinata before the trial, and Komaeda fiddles with his fingers. Maybe you would leave him for Hinata one day. You step back next to him, taking his hand in yours, playing with his fingers. Komaeda's breath catches in his throat, and he swallows thickly. How painful. Were you going to play him even until you decide to leave him? How could you be so cruel?

Maybe he would tell you he's scared one day.

You argue from next to Hinata, explaining everything from start to the end of your memories.

Ah.

Komaeda watches as you blaze next to Hinata, and his heart sinks. You... looked much better with him. Was that your fate? To leave him? Maybe he would be a stepping stone for your hope. There was no way you would love him so much. Komaeda keeps the trial moving as you stare at him. It's like he's reading a script out of your eyes. And the culprit tumbles out of your eyes right onto Komaeda's lips as he turns to stare at Mikan.

"Mikan was the killer." Komaeda stares at Mikan, tilting his head. "Ultimate Despair."

You want to leave your podium and yank him, but he goes on a tangent, and you stare at Komaeda until he notices.

"Ah, angel," He swallows. "Sorry."

Hinata continues with the trial, and you go silent to stare at Komaeda. He... had ruined your streak, didn't he? Of course, he wasn't worth sticking around you, but he had thought just for a moment. Maybe. Maybe you would let him. Turns out he was wrong. He stays quiet for the rest of the trial, letting you do what you were supposed to before he had interrupted.

Mikan is deduced as the killer, and Mikan is executed. You stand on an orchestrated stage, and Komaeda tries going up to you after the trial. You let him stand next to you, but you don't let him talk to you. You aren't responding. Not even with your eyes. You avoid his gaze as he follows you. Even as you sit down in the cottage and pull him into bed, you don't talk to him. Komaeda catches your eyes once. You look hurt.

He's scared to touch you tonight.

Yet, as you snuggle to his back as he seems to be asleep, maybe you'll find it in your heart to forgive him.

Another island is unlocked the next day, and Komaeda's scared to face you.

You get out of bed without reaching to wake him, and you shower first thing. It's strange. He sits in the room as he stares at you leave the bathroom, tower wrapped around your chest.

"I'm sorry," the words tumble out of his lips. "let me... make it up to you?"

You stare at him, tilting your head. "how?"

He steps up to you, getting on his knees, glancing up at you.

"Can I?"

You stare down at him, swallowing. "Yeah."

You pull him to the bed, and he shakes slightly as you sit on the bed.

You're naked before him. In front of him. You're naked from head to toe. Komaeda takes your body in quietly. When was the last time you were bare before him? When was the last time you had let him touch you like this? God, what if he doesn't remember what you like? Maybe you'd push him off. Maybe you'd get even angrier at him. He doesn't realize he's shaking until you're speaking.

"Stop thinking so hard," You frown, reaching for his face, propping up on your elbows.

"Sorry."

Komaeda eats you out desperately. You don't recall a moment when he wasn't writhing to please you to the moon and back. You suppose he drinks up whatever reaction you give to him. His eyes are half-lidded, pressing a kiss to your clit before starting. Komaeda likes taking his time. He's spent hours between your legs drawing orgasms out of your body before finally tending to you, usually leaking and in pain. You wonder if he can feel how painful it is.

Komaeda likes sitting between your legs. He feels it's fitting for someone who should be nothing more than a mere tool to the ultimates like you. You were being kind enough, letting him dirty you with his body. He's a little messy, he thinks, but you like it when he makes a mess. You never berate him for making a mess. Maybe you were a blessing just for him. Who knows.

Your fingers tangle in the sheets as Komaeda sits between your legs, hands keeping your legs opened, tongue prodding and twisting inside of you. Your breathy moans fill the room, your breath quickening as Komaeda grows more desperate to get you to cum. It's strange. Nothing feels right. You usually cum from his tongue alone. Was he getting worse? He's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize you've already cum and you're writhing in overstimulation.

"K-ko," You whine. "S-stop,"

Komaeda stops immediately, apologies spilling out of his lips in terror.

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, and you close your eyes.

"We'll be doing that a lot more soon," Your breath catches in your throat as you sit up, and Komaeda grabs a towel to clean you off.

Komaeda doesn't understand your words until Monokuma is telling the class that they're stuck with no food until someone commits a crime. You rock on your feet, glancing at Komaeda. He thinks he understands now. Yet, as you leave him outside, heading into the final dead room, Komaeda's uneasy. You bet Monokuma that requires five bullets in a revolver of six. When the sound of a gun goes down and you stare at your hands, you know you won. Glancing at Monokuma, he hands you the file begrudgingly, complaining about how it was pure luck that you had won the file.

Your own name is found, and you stare blankly at the file.

Komaeda watches you return to bed that same night, still silent as ever. He coughs twice, and he stares at you.

"Hungry?" You stare at him.

Komaeda holds his breath.

"What's wrong?"

"You'll find out."

Komaeda has dinner as you do.

Komaeda drags you downstairs with him as the two of you head to Monokuma Tai Chi. A body announcement is made, and you stare across the room. Komaeda helps investigate, and he turns to stare at you. You lead him to the final dead room, laughing dryly as you look at the door again. Komaeda waits for you to get it out of your system before asking you anything. He's the ultimate luck. It'd only make sense for him to enter the room.

"May I..."

"Come back alive." You stare at Komaeda as he opens the door to the final dead room.

"Ah." Komaeda stares down at the book, heart quivering. He has to make a choice, doesn't he? He has to worry about.

This trial, Komaeda keeps silent. You don't tell him to speak, and you don't speak through him either. He feels as if he's stuck. A crossroad of destiny, perhaps. Star-crossed. It feels terrible. Komaeda doesn't know what this does to the two of you. Were you even considered lovers? How could Komaeda date someone that was the ultimate despair even though he was one too? Even as the two of you return home and you don't speak, Komaeda feels his own words caught in his throat, unsure how to ask.

"I'm in a coma," You stare at Komaeda.

"And you're... an ultimate despair."

You blink slowly.

"Yeah."

"What does..."

"We're on even ground," You exhale. "The world ended at our hands. It's that's simple."

Komaeda's voice catches in his throat, heart breaking. He shakes as you sit there, staring at him back in the room of your cabins. The stars spill secrets that neither of you speak up about, and you don't dare to meet his eyes. It was terrifying for you. You didn't know if he would leave you or do something. You get out of bed for the first time since arriving on the island, and your voice shakes as you speak.

"I'll... sleep in my cabin tonight." You mumble, rushing off.

Komaeda sits there without moving until the sun rises.

You're... an ultimate despair. You were an ultimate who caused despair. The entire class was. There was a single person on the entire island that didn't cause despair and it wasn't you. But. But. You had. You had just. You were. You were his entire symbol of hope. How could it be that you had known the entire time? You knew everything. From start to finish, you were orchestrating it all? Was that... what you were? Was he actually just a puppet in your play?

Komaeda checks on you the third day, wondering if you had spiraled as bad as he did. You're in your room, biting your nails, connecting red strings to others, desperate to get your thoughts in tow. There was one last trial. There was one last trial. One final person had to die. You couldn't let a single flaw escape from your fingers for this last trial. You chew on your lip, mumbling words to yourself over and over again. You're going to end up in tears. You don't remember the last time you felt this terrible.

Your hair is disheveled as you arrange the papers again, desperate to find the pattern. You have to know. You can't do it. You can't live knowing you'll never wake up and Komaeda one day will. You can't let him die. He can't die. How could you just let him die? You can leave the death to yourself. Worst comes to worst, you die with him. It's not that hard, right? You were just in a coma in real life. You don't know if you'd wake up with the rest of the class when they're all discharged.

Komaeda stares at you quietly.

"Angel?"

You turn your head to stare at him, deer in headlights, heart racing, dried tear stains on your cheeks. Komaeda has never seen you look so disheveled before. He lowers himself to his knees, brushing your hair back, pausing to see what you wanted. what you needed. You needed him, perhaps. You needed him just as badly as he needed you. He had to remember that. He was useless without you just as you were without him; even if the two of you were an ultimate despair.

"What's wrong?"

You burst into tears, coughing from the tears and pressure of it all. You hack furiously, hiccupping and sobbing into his arms. Drool slips past your lips and snot gets all over Komaeda's sleeve as he reaches to catch you before you collapsed onto the ground and bowed all the way to the ground. He couldn't let you do that for trash like him. But why... why were you crying like that? You looked more terrified than miserable.

"Don't die." You mumble, staring at the floor, still dissociated. "Please don't die. I'll kill myself if you don't do it. Please." Your fingers dig into his skin, and he pauses. You break his pause with more words. "Please don't kill yourself. I'm... I'm begging you. don't die. don't die. Please, don't die. Don't die, Ko. I'll kill everyone else on the island if it makes you feel better since I'm a dirty sinner anyways. I'll-"

"Angel," Komaeda cups your face, tilting your chin to stare at him. "Angel, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Come on-"

You cough, a mess of snot and tears in his arms. You lean in his arms pathetically, throat dry, eyes dead with exhaustion. Komaeda feels bad. Was he the reason you looked so terrible? He should make up for it somehow. Yet, as you cough furiously in his arms and only quiet down after he shushes you quietly, drawing circles on your skin. You look beyond repair. You look as though your entire life was crashing before your eyes, and you were without hope.

"Angel," Komaeda lowers his face to yours. "What's wrong?

You sniff pathetically.

"What's going to happen?"

You refuse to tell him. You stand up instead, staring at the scattered papers on the ground, kicking them all out of order, picking them up, and making Komaeda stand outside as you do so. You go back to sticking around him without telling him anything. You need the final motive, sure, but you wanted Komaeda to stay. Was it selfish? Komaeda reads the words off of you in waves. He sits in the dining room. Maybe reading you was harder for him.

He's not opposed to the idea of killing himself for the better hope. He obeys your word, after all.

"Why are you helping?" Komaeda watches as you tie the rope to him.

You decided dying with him was the best option.

"I'm going to miss her," You sit down next to him, legs tucked to your chest, leaning your cheek on your knees.

"Chiaki?"

"She doesn't have a body," You hum lowly. "You won't ever see her again."

"Ah." Komaeda's eyes widen as you stab yourself with the same knife. "What about you?"

You smile.

You avoid the topic.

"You know, Ko," You trace his face on your arm, "I love you a lot."

"Really?"

"Yeah," You smile. "I hope you remember that."

You die with Komaeda. The two of you sit in the room talking before the rest of the class breaks in, the poison killing the both of you instantly. You don't remember much after that. You wake up in the darkness, looking around. It's boring, you think. It would take at least a day or two for the game to wrap up. The pixels form before your eyes, and you stare at your hand as you end up in the void.

You find yourself wandering in the void, running at some point, walking in others. You're waiting for the system to be shut down so you can go back into the comatose state. Chiaki appears after searching for a little while. You run over to her, sitting down next to her. She smiles at you, handing you a notepad in case you needed it. You ditch it. She's a robot. It wouldn't kill to tell her.

"Are you well?"

"I hope we get to meet again," You blurt.

Chiaki blinks slowly. "You... speak."

You grin. "I do. My real talent has nothing to do with being the ultimate unknown. I am just a fortunate isekai victim."

So you talk with Chiaki. While Komaeda's mind forms a world where which isn't demented, you sit in the void, talking to Chiaki, playing imaginary cards and spilling your secrets. You don't know when you'll wake up. Chiaki reports what's going on outside every now and then, explaining who's awake and who's yet to wake up. Komaeda holds on to his fantasy that everything is normal. You know he does.

Chiaki speaks up one day.

"Your body is showing signs of waking up."

You pause. "Really?"

"Komaeda woke up two days ago. According to Hinata... he's also," She doesn't know how to tell you.

"Just say it."

"Komaeda got hit by a truck. He's conscious but severely injured."

"Is that why I'm waking up?"

"Yeah." Chiaki laughs lightheartedly. "I'll miss playing imaginary cards."

"I will too," You smile at her.

You wake up a day later, sitting up in your pod, blinking slowly at your hands.

Your legs have no strength, you find.

Naegi is kind enough to put you in the same hospital room as Komaeda, and you pull the curtain between the two beds down, grinning at Komaeda.

"Good morning." You smile.

Komaeda smiles back at you.

You do physical therapy with Mikan's help in the room, and your legs are restored as Komaeda is recovered.

"We should get married," You sit by his bed, leaning on your palm as he blinks at you slowly. Komaeda laughs airily, coughing when his lungs start hurting.

"I wonder what kind of suffering I would have to go through if we do."

"I'll bear half of it," You grin cheekily. "Til death do us part, after all."

"But we're not married," He hums.

"Not yet," You rest your head on his hand, humming to yourself. You stare at his ring finger, lips pulled into a smile.

"You plan on marrying trash like me?"

"You're not trash," You close your eyes. "You woke me up from an indefinite coma, did you not?"

Komaeda sighs. "But you were still injured."

"It's better than nothing," You doze off. "love..."

You stay quiet for the most part, making noises and showing improvement in vocal therapy. Komaeda sits with you some days in the wheelchair as you open your mouth to speak. Other days, he does physical therapy on the side while you learn to speak. The two of you return to your hospital room and talk about everything when you finish. There was no need for security when the island was only with so many people.

"What did you learn today?"

"Names," You start counting on your fingers. "Komaeda, Hinata, Fuyuhiko, the list goes on."

"That's it?"

"We start verbs tomorrow since I accidentally pronounced your name a little too well."

Komaeda chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist lazily. "Is it fun?"

"No," You mumble back, voice just as sleepy as his. "I hate it."

There's little to do in a hospital, you think. You play cards with Komaeda when you're bored, and other days you play chopsticks. The majority of the time, the two of you sit there in silence during the day. When it's night, the two of you are too tired to do anything, so there's little to no conversation. Komaeda offers to pretend to teach you how to speak so the two of you can communicate. You refuse him.

You decide a miracle would be funnier.

You start speaking to Komaeda during the day to see who notices first. The two of you bet on different students. Komaeda bets on Hinata, and you bet on Mikan.

You win the bet as you're rambling about how shit the school is to Komaeda on a Thursday afternoon immediately after class and Mikan walks in to check up on you. Komaeda needs to be discharged, so you win the bet instead of him. You think it's a trade-off you're fine with. Komaeda being healed at the cost of anything for you was more than worth the price. You just wished he cared a little more about himself.

"I-If you can speak fluently," Mikan stares at the papers in her hands. "Th-then it's completely pointless to k-keep you here!"

You smile. "I've been able to talk. I just—" You pause to think of the word. "have been told to keep quiet."

Hinata runs check-ups with Mikan on you as you speak to them normally. You're fine to go; you're told. Komaeda takes you back to your shared cabin, grinning from ear to ear as you stretch your arms. It's surprising that you could speak so well. You don't know what to do. You don't know the amount of time that passes from one event to the next, and you chew on your bottom lip as you sit in your room.

Komaeda pulls your bottom lip from your teeth, handing you a cup of tea instead.

"What's wrong?"

You blink slowly. "We have one final event. Has Hinata looked for Mitarai?"

"He has. Why?"

You pause before closing your mouth. You grimace slowly, and Komaeda sits on the floor with you, tilting his head to stare at you properly. You look older. You've aged. Your anxiety is much worse than while in the simulation, and he does his best to fix you. You can't fix someone if you're broken as well.

Komaeda finishes therapy and accompanies you to your sessions, easing you into the sessions slowly. It's an improvement. You learn to calm down and loosen up. It's something about how you have to let go of control. It's scary. Komaeda's told to take care of you to whatever extent he can manage, and make you feel as though you have something to lean on that isn't predestinated knowledge. Komaeda doesn't know if he's really suited for the position, but he doesn't find it in himself to doubt you.

You recover slowly, and it seems as though your recovery process reverts as soon as the third killing game begins. You stare in horror at the livestream while everyone on the island starts gearing up. You don't know what to feel. That was the last you knew about the series. It was the last you knew about anything. It was. It was terrifying. You wouldn't know anything about the future, and you had been living off of the knowledge you had. How... how do you survive? What happens to the remnants? Do they return to the island? Do they go somewhere else? Wasn't the final killing game on the island?

When Komaeda returns on the boat, he brings a small gift with him. You collapse on him as he exits the boat, and Komaeda stays on the ground even as he helps you up. You wipe your tears with a frown, and you pause when you notice he hasn't stood up. You tilt your head, getting back on your knees to stare at him in curiosity. Komaeda laughs awkwardly, getting up. He... he can't just ask you to stay with him in front of everyone. It might make you feel obligated to say yes to him. He presses kisses to your forehead instead, laughing airily and joking about how you took his breath away. You smack him lightly in retaliation, embarrassment all over your face.

But days are mundane to Komaeda once they return to the island. You walk with him in the mornings, and you sit with him during mealtimes. The rest of the class gets along with you well, and the two of you do everything together. Komaeda fears you'll grow bored of him. His hesitation seeps into the things the two of you do normally, and you notice his change in behavior immediately. You never mention anything as he tries to pull away slowly, and you find yourself sitting in empty bedrooms, waiting for Komaeda to return. Some days, he doesn't. Other days, he returns when it's morning and the energy has been drained out of your soul.

You think you're doing something wrong. You don't understand why he's so desperate to leave you. Maybe you're doing something wrong. Maybe you're of no more use now that you don't know the future anymore. It eats you away slowly as you sit at the diner, chewing down breakfast slowly. Teruteru asks if it's because you don't like the food, and you assure him it's not. You wonder if you just have your emotions written all over your face. Though, no one else on the island mentions anything as you eat less and less. You wonder if Komaeda eats at all.

Well, communication is key, you suppose.

You rub your eyes slowly as the sun rises, and you mumble to yourself. Komaeda hasn't come back again.

You close your eyes and fall asleep on the couch. The bed is too big without him around.

Komaeda returns to the cottage to grab his things.

His heart drops to his stomach as he sees you sleeping on the couch. You... you don't like him. Why are you eating yourself away so that you'll continue to like him even if he treats you terribly? You have so many more people that could fall in love with you and date, yet you were killing yourself over someone as unimportant as him. He grabs the blanket from the bed, and he covers you with it, turning around to get his stuff.

"Nagito Komaeda." Your voice comes out surprisingly clear for someone who was asleep. You don't move, but Komaeda can tell you want him to stay.

"I'm sorry." He grabs what he was looking for, and you sob quietly as the door to the cottage closes with a click.

The depression chips at you slowly. You stay pooled in your cottage, relying on classmates sending food to you and only eating small portions. You wonder how bad you must have it when even Teruteru's cooking doesn't lift your spirits. Your talent no longer exists. Is that why Komaeda no longer wants you? You sit there in your room, rotting away, the blanket wrapped around your body, your existence slowly slipping away, dissociating, fading in and out, sometimes bleeding at the wrist and other times bleeding at the fingertips.

But the depression disappears one day as your brain goes into autopilot. You pack your things by yourself, and you stare at the photo of you and Komaeda on the coffee table, putting it face down as you open your laptop to reach Naegi. You want to leave the island. Your talent is the ultimate unknown, so it'd only make sense that you end up somewhere that no one knows about.

You leave the island in the dead of night, your presence completely erased along with it.

You sit in the helicopter, staring at the setting moon and rising sun, watching the stars twinkle out of life and clouds grow more visible. Maybe it was something you were supposed to do from the start. Maybe it was something that you were meant to do. You were supposed to be isekaied by now, right? That was the plan? You chew on your bottom lip as you land in the future foundation headquarters, and you go through the process with a new identity, making your way of life in the remnants of the city, the broken buildings now slowly coming back to life. You try to ignore the lack of consciousness as you do everything.

Komaeda thinks he hallucinated your entire existence when he steps into your shared cottage the day you left. You hadn't been at breakfast for the seventh time that week, and he drops the tray of food at the sight of a clean and neat cottage. It was impossible for someone who was as shattered as you to do. It's impossible. He looks around the cottage urgently, crying, begging, praying that there was a trace of you to remember just for a moment.

There's nothing.

So instead, Komaeda runs back to the restaurant, opening the doors panting. The class turns to stare at him, and his breath catches in his throat as he doesn't know how to explain that you had just disappeared without a trace off of the island. His breathing turns static as he coughs and cries, trying to explain through his pathetic sobs that you had just disappeared, and you were gone without a trace, and that you had just left as if you were never there, and that he wanted to apologize and try to talk it out with you but he had found an empty cottage without anything that could possibly remind him of your existence; it was a terrible thing to think of, and his head spins dizzily. He was going to tell you that his illness was gone and that he would be able to spend time with you again, but you had just disappeared— you were— you just— you just left him alone on an island of ultimates, people who he considered nothing more than classmates and friends when he cared, but you, his lover, the only person in the world to ever tell him that he was worth something and not insult him, was gone, and he couldn't live withou—

Komaeda passes out before he can say anything else, the stress of everything collapsing on him at once. The class rushes him to the hospital, and Mikan and Hinata check his vitals, trying their best to calm his heart somehow before he died of a heart attack. His body fights it, almost as if desperate to die and shatter and break. Komaeda's consciousness doesn't want to live or come back to life. Yet, the two succeed anyway, the boy jumping awake as he's defibrillated back to life.

Komaeda doesn't know why he woke up within a day. He would have rather just died now that you weren't on the island anymore. He starts crying immediately upon waking up, the tears making him choke, snot running down his nose and tears staining his cheeks with tracks and tracks of salt. He thinks he's going to die from how hard he's crying. His breath catches in his throat, the hiccuping killing his lungs. God. Is this how pathetic he was? Was he really nothing without you? Why did he push you away? He should've just let you destroy him next to you—

You suppose you don't suffer any less.

You sit in the coffee shop in the city, and you press the coffee to your lips, planning your next route to nowhere. You want to wander. Your backpack is packed and ready, and you're excited to leave something behind for once. Yet, the sense of dread that plagues your whole body at the thought of leaving your only pillar of support in the universe hurts you. You don't know how to let you. You don't know if you want to know if you even know how to let go.

You receive a letter from Naegi from the island. A letter that was several papers taped together. A letter that rolls on the ground as you open it in front of the man, and a letter that's longer than a senior thesis paper. You read the first two lines, and you recognize it as Hinata's writing. You refuse to touch it at first, waving Naegi off, but all it takes is a mention of Komaeda's name.

It's every single doctor's report for Komaeda's illness starting from the day you left the island.

"What's... wrong?" Naegi watches your resolve waver.

"Komaeda is bedridden and had a heart attack the morning I left the island," You read every single report, and you pause when you reach the end. He still hasn't been discharged.

"Do you have paper and an envelope?" You stare at the man.

Komaeda receives a letter passed on from Hinata detailing a single word, and Komaeda runs.

He takes a helicopter to the mainland, and his heart races in his chest the entire time. He has to find you. It doesn't matter if you'd slap him or break him or shatter him into pieces like he had done with you, he has to have you back in his hands. He knows where you want him to be, and he doesn't know what time it is or why his bones hurt, but he knows where you're waiting, and he'd hate to keep you waiting even longer than he's had you wait. He doesn't know why the two of you are stuck. He doesn't understand why everything hurts him in the way it does, but he does know that he misses you terribly.

He reaches where you want him, sitting down on the same bench when he had met you, and he pulls out the blades from his jacket, cutting two lines to make sure you wouldn't leave before he could apologize. The blood stains his jacket, but he could never be too safe. He grimaces.

You leave your bag with Naegi, stepping up the stairs into Monaca's old tower. You're surprised that there was still one left, and you sit at the top of the stairs, glancing down at the rest of Towa city. You wonder if Komaeda would know that you're referring to here instead of the bench. Maybe he'd realize it after a little while.

So, the sun sets, and you start back down the tower. The walls of it are torn, the brick showing through the wallpaper, and the mold and moss from the natural tragedies during the tragedy. You wonder if Komaeda would remember this place at all. You don't know how many years you spent in the tower with him, doing everything you could for Junko. It wasn't even despair, now that you think of it. You were just enamored with Komaeda. That desperate. Desperate to the point that you'd do anything for him. You wonder if your memories were erased. You don't know.

The place brings bad memories. Maybe it was time to leave.

The sound of running upstairs causes you to stop in your steps, and you stare down at Komaeda.

Komaeda stares up at you, stars in the background, the wind brushing your hair gently, and his legs give out. You rush to him immediately as he cries at the sight of you, and his lungs burn as he tries to catch his breath despite the tears. He clings onto your forearms, mindless babbles slipping past his lips as he cries and tries to explain himself. You catch little comprehensible words. Words like "help" "sorry" and "fault", and you wait until he calms down enough to speak to you, assuring him that you wouldn't leave.

Your heart twists and burns in your chest. You want to cry just as badly as he does.

Komaeda cries in your arms, hiccupping, clinging onto your arm pathetically. It looks familiar. It's like watching yourself break down before the fifth trial, except its Komaeda crying harsh tears over you leaving him. Maybe you came full circle. You don't know. All you know is that you should've never left the island and rotted in your place for a little longer. Maybe Komaeda wouldn't have had heart problems if you had never left. You don't know. You think you hurt him enough.

Komaeda calms eventually, wiping the snot and tears from his face, staring quietly at the tissue. He really was pathetic without you.

"I'm sorry." He manages. "I was going to—" He pauses, averting his gaze to the side. "I was going to... give you a ring when I got off the boat as a promise but I didn't want it to seem like I was proposing because then that would be like forcing you to marry me in front of the entire class—"

"You were going to what?" You stare at Komaeda in your arms, blinking, eyes wide.

"give you a ring?"

"You brought me a ring from the mainland?"

"Y-yeah?"

"How'd you even get one?" Your arms tighten around him, and you rest your chin on his head as you stare down at the stairs.

"Uh," Komaeda stumbles over himself. "I dug around my old mansion."

You laugh, pulling him close to your chest. "From your dead parents?"

"Mom's engagement ring," Komaeda smiles at the sound of your laughter.

"Do you think that's why we fought? The dead's vengeance?"

"Mother doesn't approve," Komaeda hums. "Mother knows best."

"Motherrrrr," You grin, "knows best." You pause, staring at the sunrise. "Would you say yes if I were to propose?"

"I can't live without you."

That's all you need to hear.

Some days you think too hard. Komaeda grows used to it, sitting down with you, the fireplace on, tea in your hands as he sits next to you. He doesn't know what to feel about living a casual, retired life. The two of you are back to a mundane life. The two of you swing back and forth, the sun counting your days. You wonder if Komaeda's going to propose or if he was just saying it to get you back with him.

Though, you suppose thoughts are fleeting.

You grow tired of waiting for Komaeda to propose. You stumble into Souda's cabin one afternoon, staring at him in the eye until he notices you. He yelps as he does, and you as him if he has a metal band. You wonder where you get the talent for being able to do everything as long as you have the audacity to. You bring a mirror into your old cabin, playing with polymer clay and making flowers, gluing them onto the mirror, sanding the ring and making sure you remember Komaeda's ring size as you fall asleep next to him each night.

Komaeda thinks you're up to something, but he stays put. Maybe you were going to surprise him.

The anxiety is much quieter these days, and he finds himself sitting in your shared cabin, waiting for you to come back. You go missing more often. Maybe you're running around the island exploring. You always liked wandering more than anything else. He wonders if you'd pass away on accident one day. Your ultimate talent was scary. Your real one. You could be taken away from him at any time.

"I have a surprise." You peek through the door, blinking at Komaeda rapidly.

"A good one or bad one?"

"Good one," You hum.

Komaeda follows you as you drag him to your cabin, and he pauses at the sight of roses.

"A... angel?"

"I made us a mirror." You fiddle with your fingers.

Komaeda pulls you with him as he steps into the place, and he stares at the heart-shaped mirror. The clay flowers around it cause him to pause, and he stares at the metal band that glistens, hiding in a piece of clay. Komaeda pauses at the sight of the other hole, and he pulls the ring from his pocket, slipping it into the slot, turning to grin at you.

"Ah, it seems-" He pauses at the sight of you on one knee.

"I had this whole speech prepared about how I had fallen in love with you the moment we met, but the second you put my ring in the slot my brain completely malfunctioned and I forgot half of it," You pull another ring from your pocket, and you hold it up for him. "I'm in love with you. Marry me?"

Komaeda blinks at the ring, and he stares at you, rummaging through his pocket.

Your heart rings in your head as he pulls out a ring of his own, holding it to your face.

"If you'll take mine."

You yank him onto the floor with you, wrapping your arms around his neck and laughing.

There are a lot of smiles and giggles with Komaeda while the two of you plan for a wedding. Komaeda lets you do what you want, offering his suggestion when you ask, finding that it's getting easier to read what you want and what you don't. In the meantime, while he does, you tell him how sweet he is to you, pressing kisses to his cheeks, letting him know you were sure about what you were doing. It was turbulent, you think. Komaeda seemed scared you would change your mind at first.

You remind him that you care about him quietly at night, tracing circles on his chest.

He watches you fall asleep at night, and he can't help the nasty thoughts that spiral in his mind as he bites back quiet moans as you're asleep next to him, bare skin kissed by the moon and water from the shower still fresh in your hair. He feels bad, whimpering and gasping as he plays with himself next to you, but surely you wouldn't mind, right? You never have; You've let him do whatever he wants. You've even mentioned letting him do whatever he wants to you while you're asleep, but he couldn't possibly soil your body with him.

You don't wake up. You've always slept deep, he finds. He could completely defile you head to toe and you wouldn't even notice as long as he cleaned you up. He parts your lips with his thumb, pressing a kiss to your lips before wiping himself down with a tissue, snuggling his head into your chest, falling asleep to the sound of your heartbeat.

Komaeda is less slick than he thinks he is.

You wake up earlier than him some days, staring at the stain on the sheets, stretching your arms, and reaching into his boxers. He tends to wake up with morning woods, his hormones still unbalanced despite his age. You don't know. You never studied the human body extensively. So, you do what you normally do, fingers freeing his cock from his boxers, spitting in your hand before running your hand through the slit to collect his precum and giving him a handjob. Some days, Komaeda wakes up with your mouth around his tongue, other days he wakes up to you reading a book while your hand is wrapped around his cock. Either way, he wakes up to himself moaning pathetically while you suck him off. He caught you kicking your legs once. He doesn't understand why you enjoy pleasing him, but he doesn't find it in himself to complain.

"I want snowdrops at the wedding," You pause. "On the dress, not the wedding. I'm not planting more flowers on the island when we already have a farm."

"It wouldn't hurt to get flowers planted."

"We're having a beachside wedding because you insisted it be one to match my fantasies," You glance at the flower catalog Naegi sent you. "Maybe I'll get a blue iris bouquet."

"Anything you want," Komaeda hums, staring at a suit catalog. "Can I just wear white?"

"Yeah." You pause. "I'm kicking you out when I pick the dress, by the way."

"And let Hinata take your nude measurements alone?"

"Sonia and Peko are going to be there," You grumble. "They've had it done before."

Komaeda pouts.

"You'll get to see it at the wedding. Isn't that enough?"

"Can I paint something for the wedding?"

"We have to plan gifts for each other, do we not?" You hum. "Like... I don't actually know what I'm going to get you."

"It's fine," Komaeda closes his eyes, the vibrations from his humming warming your skin. "I'll just spoil you rotten."

"What if I get used to it?"

"Then that would be the greatest blessing possible." Komaeda smiles.

Some days, you wonder how you ended up with Komaeda. You had been blinking slowly in and out of consciousness over a world that wasn't yours when you landed out of nowhere on top of Komaeda, and now you were planning a wedding with him. Other days, you wonder how you asked a complete stranger in English to live at his place temporarily, and now you were his home. You, a human, are his home. You gasp and twitch as he curls his fingers in you, cutting off your thought process.

"What were you thinking of?" Komaeda stares up at you from between your legs.

"A-ah," You whimper as he goes back to fingering you. "You-" You exhale. "I was thinking of you."

"Me?"

"Y-yeah," You hide your face in your hands as he presses a kiss to your clit. "H-how we met."

"You were an angel who fell out of heaven, I was convinced," The rest of Komaeda's words are muffled as he goes back to eating you out, eyes half-lidded as he focuses on you feverishly. You don't know where he gets the energy to stay between your legs when he can barely survive a round with you. The sounds of his tongue in you fill the room as you flush from how lewd it all sounds. You're embarrassed again.

"K-Ko," You whimper.

Komaeda raises a brow to stare at you, drawing hearts on your thigh as he goes back to eating you out when he notices it's just embarrassment. The coil in your stomach tightens as your hand threads through his hair, your thighs closing around his head as your orgasm approaches. You squirm before you do, and you let out a salacious moan as you cum on Komaeda's tongue for the nth time that night. You squirm from the overstimulation as the orgasm fades, and Komaeda wipes the cum from his face, licking off of his hand as he spreads your legs.

He pumps himself twice before pressing the tip of his cock to your clit.

"What's wrong?"

"S-sorry," Komaeda mumbles, kneading the skin on your hip. "T-thinking."

"About?"

"How far, ah," He whimpers as he fills you, resting his forehead on yours. "we've come." He blinks slowly as you push his hair back, leaning up to kiss him. "And how you're," He starts thrusting, slowly, almost as if he were cherishing you slowly, "underneath me, bare skin, and all." Komaeda thrusts steadily as you murmur for him to speed up, cheeks warm and skin flushed. Komaeda thinks you're pretty like this. He always thinks you're pretty, but you're just breathtaking under the moon, the white haze making you look holy. You were his angel. The angel that dropped into his life as he felt his life shatter in his hands that same day.

Komaeda's brows furrow as he feels himself get close, thrusting growing desperate, thumb on your clit, rubbing desperately. The coil in your stomach tightens, and your eyes widen, reaching for Komaeda's neck, squealing about how you're in love with him and how you're desperate to marry him and settle down, your overstimulation making your head spin, the words not registering as you cum on his cock. Komaeda's head rings from the praise you give him, a waterfall of pet names spilling. "Y-you're so pretty," You gasp. "Gorgeous. I think you were blessed by Aphrodite or something. Pretty. Pretty, pretty boy." You whine as he chases his own orgasm, your nails digging into his shoulders. "i love you so much. So much. K-ko, I'm so p-painfully in love with you-" You gasp as he cums, spilling into you with something between a whimper and moan.

He stays inside of you for a moment, waiting to catch his breath as you wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"Good boy," You smile, running your hand through his hair. "Such a pretty, good boy."

Komaeda laughs airily, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. "I love you too."

You turn your head to stare, and you pause. "We left the window open."

"Pray that Souda doesn't scream at us tomorrow," Komaeda pulls out of you, his cum trickling out of you, causing Komaeda's voice to catch in his throat. "You're pretty."

"You tell me that a lot," You sit up, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"I mean it," Komaeda relaxes at your touch, tension leaving his shoulders. "I mean it."

"I know you do," You get off the bed, grimacing at the sweat on your skin. Komaeda lies on the bed as you walk into the bathroom, coming out with a rag to wipe him down. Komaeda lifts his arms weakly as you wipe him, exhaling when you finish, pulling you for a kiss.

"Can I sleep first?"

"Of course," You press a kiss to his forehead. "Always."

The moon spills past the windows as you stare at Komaeda's chest rise and fall, skin paler than normal. You rest your hand on his hip, tracing circles on his skin, lashes fluttering as sleep threatens to take you. It's quiet, you think. A nice quiet. the type of quiet that you could grow used to, and a type of quiet you had wished for before getting isekaied. You don't want to leave him. You hope he reincarnates with you when the two of you die.

Komaeda blinks slowly in the morning, body sore. Though, his arms aren't as sore as they used to be. He blinks slowly, turning around to face you. He stares up at you, lashes fluttering, lips parting as he presses a kiss to yours. You're pretty. When the sun illuminates the room and the waves recede, you're gorgeous. The golden streaks of the sun reflect on your hair, and each individual cell of your body. Komaeda doesn't know what he could consider prettier.

"Mm?" You furrow your brows, Komaeda sitting up to cover the sun from your eyes. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Komaeda smiles.

"You're so hot," You yawn. "I'm so happy I'm marrying you."

Komaeda's cheeks redden, his heart racing. "love you too..."

The clocks on the walls pass quicker as the two of you get ready for the ceremony itself. Komaeda doesn't know what to feel. He's going to get to call you his wife. His spouse. He's going to be married soon. If he told himself back at Hope's Peak, he doubts he would believe himself. He's marrying you.

You sit up and rub your eyes, exhaling slowly. You stare outside the window, tossing the covers over your head again.

"I'm going back to bed."

Komaeda blinks slowly, snuggling closer to you. He doesn't want to get up either. He closes his eyes, only pausing when he remembers something important.

"You have to pick the dress today." He mumbles into your ear.

"Nevermind!" You jump out of bed, stretching your arms. Komaeda smiles as you yawn. "Do you want to see me in anything?"

"Do whatever you want," Komaeda smiles.

"I'm going to wear your servant chain to the wedding if you tell me to do whatever I want," You deadpan.

Komaeda chokes, coughing uncomfortably.

"Or the bedroom," You rub your eyes. "I think it'd be cuter in the bedroom."

"You kept my clothes?"

You blink at him owlishly. "I kept everything you ever had."

Komaeda doesn't know what he's supposed to feel when you actually pull out the chain that was originally around his neck. Komaeda returns home, supporting himself on the wall, pulling his shoes off, pausing at the sight of you in his sweater and chain.

"I swear this isn't-"

"Stay in it." Komaeda tosses his jacket to the side, stepping up to you, pressing his lips on your temple, smothering you in kisses. "Can I fuck you in that?"

"Yeah," You scrunch your nose as he kisses further down your neck, biting, tracing circles on the teeth marks, staring quietly. "God, you're so pretty."

You flush from his words, and he pulls the bottom of his shirt up, revealing your boobs. He pries your lips open, having you bite on the hem as he thumbs the bud of your tits, pinching it to get a reaction out of you. Your skin jumps as his lips close around the other bud, swirling his tongue around it. Your leg wobbles, and Komaeda has you sit, the tips of his hair tickling your chin as he continues his ministrations. Your fingers dig into the sheets, soft pants slipping past your lips as Komaeda takes your quiet moans as a sign of encouragement.

He pulls away, a string of saliva following him, and he blinks slowly at how your legs have bucked. You stare at him as he pulls away from your chest, deer caught in headlights, heart ringing in your ears. You don't know when he got so perceptive. The hem of the shirt is still between your teeth, and Komaeda pulls the cloth from you.

"Pretty angel, doing such a great job," He kisses you as a reward, lowering his head, pressing a hand to your thigh as he scrunches the shirt up to reveal your pussy. He pushes your legs open wider, pulling you closer to him, getting onto his stomach, pressing a light kiss to your clit before mumbling quietly. "itadakimasu," He delves in, sticking his tongue in first, making sure to savor your taste. Your thighs quiver, and he holds them apart as he continues, stopping you from suffocating him. You throw your head back, muffling the sounds from your mouth with your palm.

"Angell," Komaeda slurs, replacing his tongue with a finger. "please let me hear you..."

You move your hand slowly as Komaeda sits, hand reaching for the chain, pulling on it, forcing you to lurch forward, the collar cutting your breath off. You gasp as he does, whimpering as you feel Komaeda curl his finger in you, looking for the place you liked it best. You gasp, propping yourself onto your elbows to try and breathe. Your breath hitches as he slides a second finger in, your arms shaking.

"K-Ko," You gasp as he pulls on the chain again.

"Yes, angel?"

"I wanna cum," The coil in your stomach tightens as you tighten around Komaeda's fingers. Komaeda obliges, letting the chain go from his hand, pressing his thumb to your clit, drawing rapid circles. You cum with a cry, drenching his fingers, your legs shaking. You whimper as he pulls his fingers out and licks them. Your eyelids flutter, chest heaving for air.

"Can," Komaeda swallows slowly. "can you ride me?"

You nod slowly, waiting for Komaeda to strip and lie down. He makes a show for you, unbuttoning his shirt painfully slow, pulling his belt off, body weight resting on one side of his body, hips jutted out. You swallow the saliva threatening to spill from your lips. You climb over him, letting the cum from your orgasm lube him, positioning him slowly. You watch as Komaeda wraps his hand around the chain again, pulling lightly as he bottoms out in you. You pant, whimpering, the remnants of your orgasm making your walls still sensitive.

"So pretty for me," Komaeda pulls on the chain lightly. His shirt scratches and causes your body to itch, the fabric painfully uncomfortable. You remember why you didn't like it anymore. Well, as you start bouncing on his cock slowly, one hand on the chain and the other tangled in the sheets. You stare down at him as he pulls the collar, forcing your chest to his face, and you whimper as his lips latch onto your nipple, sucking ever so gently. You force your body weight onto your elbows, your bouncing turning erratic.

Komaeda helps you, thrusts matching your rhythm. You whimper as his other hand rests on your hip, drawing lazy circles as you feel your orgasm approach again. You gasp softly, biting your bottom lip harshly as you feel your orgasm approach again. Komaeda forces your chest to his face, letting go of the chain and moving his other hand to your ass. You cum on him with a cry as he bites on your nipple, the hickey bright red on your chest tightening on him like a vice. Your chest heaves as he chases his own orgasm, your legs shaking from overstimulation. You whine as he spills into you. Komaeda babbles incoherently as you collapse on top of him, pulling the shirt from over your head. The collar and chain remain around your neck, and Komaeda pulls you down to press a kiss to your cheek.

"You're so, so beautiful," Komaeda mumbles on your lips, pressing lazy kisses to your skin.

"I love you too."

Komaeda's anxiety charts as the wedding gets closer and closer. He finds himself staring at sharp objects for far too long and foods that he knows would be bad for him even longer. There's a certain sense of anxiety as he stares a little too long at dangerous items nearby, and you find yourself tracing circles on his skin and reminding him that it was fine. You didn't mind his luck cycle. Even if it rained on the big day, you could just run down the aisle with an umbrella.

You sit in your cabin, smiling as Hiyoko arranges your hair with a huff, complaining about how you had such nice hair but never took care of it. You laugh as she weaves flowers into your hair, and Sonia has you hold still as she does your makeup. Mahiru moves between cabins, snapping photos of both you and Komaeda. Ibuki arranges the music as Peko invites the few future foundation members to their seats. You don't know how you got here, really. Your heart causes your breathing to get anxious, and you grimace slowly.

"Hey," Sonia pauses, having you stare at her. "It'll be fine. No anxious thoughts. It's your wedding day."

You exhale as she has you breathe, and your shoulders relax.

"It looks like it's going to rain," Mikan mumbles. "Did we bring an umbrella?"

"I did!" Akane closes the umbrella, stepping into the room. "Wah, how pretty!"

"Thank you, Akane," You smile.

Komaeda's words serve true, rain pouring down on the day of the wedding, and you laugh as the tail of your dress stains with rainwater. You'll think of it as a fond memory. You know you will. It'll be fun to explain to people who ask why your dress is stained brown and say that you got married in the rain to the love of your life. It's a sense of acceptance. You blink at Komaeda as you get ready to walk down the aisle, and you decide to run. You're excited. Komaeda's dressed head to toe in white, and he looks ethereal. You'd love him forever, you decide. You ditch the umbrella, only stopping as you bump under his. It was big enough to fit the two of you.

"Would you like to swap shoes? Running in heels in the rain is a little..." Komaeda raises a leg to slip his shoe off before you stop him.

"I want to run in the rain, in heels, with the love of my life," You laugh, resting your hand on his bicep, leaning your head onto his shoulder.

Impostor gives the opening speech, and you grin happily as you open the letter you had written, holding a newly brought, clear umbrella.

"To Nagito Komaeda," You clear your throat carefully. "I landed in your lap in the blink of an eye, crashing into you on the street from above. It was comedic, it was strange, and it was new. I had never gotten hit by a white truck before, and I was nowhere expecting to end up in this world of all places. You're a fan favorite in my world, and the fact that I'm being blessed with an opportunity to marry you like this is incredible. It feels strange. It felt like just yesterday when I was asking you in a foreign language whether or not I could stay with you until I found a home, and now today we're getting married. I know you like to say that it's a blessing to marry me, but I think the real blessing was falling in love with you."

You pause to breathe, glancing at Komaeda, wiping his tears already.

"I was horrified when I saw the letter detailing your frontaltemporal lobe dementia. I was determined to find some way to fix it, whether it be through someone as obscure as the ultimate neurologist whom I had only heard of once or twice. I was blissfully in love with you as I had always been. I do not remember a moment when I haven't loved you to the moon and back." You swallow, tears welling in your eyes. "Even when you were nothing more than a mere servant under Monaca, I was desperate to do anything for you. I had forgotten that the tragedy was something that you would have despised had you found out I was an ultimate despair, but I was so desperate to love you and to show you how far my love went that I went insane."

Komaeda thanks Hinata as he takes the handkerchief, crying silently into it.

"But I knew that we would love each other. I knew that you and I would love like no other, and that the sun would die and the moon would break, but there would never be a moment where I wouldn't stop loving you because I couldn't stop loving you. You were as vital to my existence as any basic commodity was. I could wither and die like the flowers you picked for me at Hope's Peak and I would still love you desperately." You pause, collecting yourself. "Because you were just that important to me. You were something that I desperately, insanely wanted. You meant the world to me, and I was willing to let everyone else burn just so I could see you live."

You cough, trying to hold back tears. "And when we had fought, I was so desperate to leave because the only thing I knew how to do was to run away. Yet, I don't know why I stayed in that tower all night until the sun was peeking from the east. I don't know why I had held onto you so desperately as you had cried in my arms, but I'm so terribly elated that I had stayed, because I wouldn't be here if I had just ran away like I always did. I wouldn't have been in our room, staring at the ceilings and counting the stars in your eyes, watching you breathe peacefully, because I would have never been able to experience anything if I didn't stay with you. I read once that love was a choice," You exhale. "So my choice, in the simplest terms," You wipe a tear from your eye. "Is to stay by your side, for better or worse, for life or for death, and until the universe would forcibly tear my heart and soul and mind away from you, I will stay with you until all that is left of me is nothing, for I know that I would love you for all of my days, even if it decides to kill me. Because even if I'm the ultimate isekai victim in my next, life, you'll always be my husband, lover, and my home in a world that despises me so much."

Komaeda wipes his tears, eyes puffy, brows furrowed, slightly embarrassed at how much of a mess he probably looked. He coughs, waiting for his tears to calm before staring at his letter. He sniffs a little, opening the letter carefully, almost as if he were scared to break the wax. He adjusts the umbrella in his hand, and he opens the letter carefully. There are words written on the front and back.

"To my angel," Komaeda reads, adjusting his umbrella. "When you had first told me to write you a letter, I thought you were saying just to write down whatever thoughts I had."

You thank Sonia as she hands you a handkerchief.

"When I first met you, I thought I was insane." Komaeda laughs to himself. "I was just thrown out of the trash, a couple million dollars on a lottery ticket. I had the ticket in my pocket, and I remembered how each year, each terrible year, I had prayed at the shrines during visits that somehow, somewhere, there would be someone who would make living worth all the suffering I had to go through. I was so desperate to be in love and to have someone who cared about me to the point of destruction like my parents were with each other. I was dying for someone to love me, and as if the universe had heard my prayer that built up over the years, you appeared. You fell from the sky, and for that short moment in my life, I was starstruck at the sight of you." Komaeda sniffs. "I was painfully in love with you. You, who had spoken barely any Japanese upon meeting me, and you who had tried drawing a white truck killing you, I was in love with you. You were so charming in my eyes. I didn't think of a day where I would have to live without you."

Komaeda wipes his tears again, coughing quietly. "I had fallen in love with you so naturally that by the time I was a remnant of despair like you had predicted, I thought that the only way to cause despair was through the death of you, but my consciousness couldn't allow it. I was frail, broken, shattered, so I thought the best sort of despair would have been to work you to the bone and have you fall out of love with me. I failed. I'm glad I failed." Komaeda sniffs, glancing at you in tears, crying into the handkerchief, hiccuping.

"And during that killing game, I died with you." Komaeda laughs airily. "I thought you would surely leave me and try to survive. I had given you a gas mask, yet you stabbed yourself to make sure that my plan would go along, and the two of us were gone. Dead. You were in a coma because I had forced you into one before leaving for the island, and I was in a coma because I had prayed and prayed for a world where everything was together and in one piece. I wanted a world where the two of us could live without the tragedy. A world where we were all classmates, and Chiaki was still alive. To me, it was a world where the two of us were in love and my luck wasn't killing anyone. I woke up and cried. I had to be in a world with you in it, so I thought it'd be chance that my luck would save you. I'm glad it did."

Komaeda turns the paper.

"I love you to the moon and back, and I love you until the sun burns out and the moon dies from heartbreak. My life is supposed to be a mosaic of everyone I've loved, but instead, it's just a painting of you. From start to finish, from the moment we met to the moment we'll die, everything will be influenced by you and you alone. I'll fly you to the moon and burn from the sun just so that you could live without worry. And when I wake up in the morning, I'll hide you from the sun's rays burning your eyes and kiss you until you grow tired of me. I'll do anything and everything so that you'll know how much I love you, because I finally, finally, found the person that I wake up each morning, smiling all silly at because of how much I love you." Komaeda exhales shakily. "So this is my vow to love you until the world shatters and my soul can't reincarnate with you anymore. Know that no matter how much the world will kill me, I'll never leave or break you. I love you, my angel, my world, my heart, and my home."

You wipe your tears quietly, and Souda hands the two of you the rings. Komaeda slips it onto your ring finger, pausing to stare at it. You hold his ring, pausing when you notice the tears pricking the corner of his eyes. You reach to wipe the tears, wiping his tears with your handkerchief as he sniffs quietly. He mumbles a quiet apology, lifting his hand so that you can put his ring on. He wipes his tears as you wait for his vision to clear a little so that he could look at you.

You slip the ring on, a stupid smile on your face, the smile of a lovesick fool.

Impostor starts again. The moment you think you've been waiting for your entire life. Your heart rings in your head, and you can almost hear Komaeda's heart beating in his chest.

"You may now kiss the—"

You feel bad for interrupting Impostor, but as you press your lips to Komaeda, throwing your arms around him in glee, the umbrella falling to the side as Komaeda's caught off guard, you decide it's fine. Though, Komaeda doesn't complain as the familiar feeling of your lips on his causes him to relax into your arms, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. His lashes flutter as he tilts his neck to get more comfortable, and the rain soaks his hair. He might catch a cold from this, but he supposes he would only get married once. It didn't matter how his luck cycle would affect him.

The rain ceases over your head, and you pout when you pull away. "I wanted to run in the rain with you."

"It'll rain later," Komaeda hums. "We can run when it's later at night. Just the two of us"

You blink slowly, staring at Komaeda as you pause.

"I love you."

"I love you too."