#tropes that make me go a little bit feral | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

josephquinnswhore · 2 years ago

Note

got another pedro x plus size reader (because they give me confidence and make me feel better about myself)

going to a premier of one if pedro movies and then going to like an after party with all his celeb friends. having drinks and fun etc. turns into reader and pedro dancing and reader grinding/twerking on pedro.

goes based off that video of tiffany hadish dancing on pedro at a party and oh how i envy that woman. *hey alexa play that should be me by justin bieber*

then they go home and yeah make that shit

❤️‍🔥🔥 spicy 🔥❤️‍🔥

(i love you and thank you for sharing your writing you deserve the world babe 🥹🩷 )

His Girl - pedro pascal x female reader

Summary: unknown feelings between you and Pedro is admitted after some sexual tension.

Word Count: 3.2k

Content Warnings: friends to lovers trope (hope you don’t mind), drinking alcohol, spicy dancing, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie. :)

Note: I’ve not felt peace since I’ve seen this video. He’s so bashful and I would love nothing in the world more than to shake my ass on this man. (And hug him) 💜🤌🏼 song is 'just a little bit' by 50 cent. you know..... that one tiktok edit <3

You knew you messed up coming to an afterparty with you best friend, Pedro. You knew you would end up drinking too much and having too much fun, you knew you would pretend for a night that Pedro was yours and things would be everything you ever wanted in the morning, but it was never, it was always you and Pedro sharing the same bed, fully clothed from the night before, both with pounding heads and hungover. A vomit bucket had been placed on your side on the bed, who did it you were never sure, but it was almost routine for you two to hangout afterwards.

Which is why you were reluctant to join Pedro this evening, a bar, with drinks and dancing, it was inevitable and you could hardly bare it anymore. The pain was too much for you to handle, being Pedro's friend was too much for you when you had moments when you acted like a couple. The moments like this where you were by his side, it was insufferable, you found yourself wanting more than friendship, not daring to speak a word no matter how much it hurt.

“You look incredible, give me a spin gorgeous.” You oblige, cheeks flushed hot and red at Pedro’s praise. He takes your hand in his, holding it above his head as he spins you, looking you up and down to get the full picture of you.

Your curves on full display in the dress that clung to you, your hips accentuated had Pedro feeling feral, like something was going to overcome him and he was just going to pounce-he could hardly contain the way his cock twitched at the sight of you.

“Alright, alright. We better get a move on or we’ll be late.” Encouraging him out the door, you give him a gentle push as you lead him out of your apartment, the feeling of his broad shoulders under your fingertips had your hand lingering a moment longer than it should’ve. God he looked incredible, the suit fit him perfectly, his tummy slightly hung over his pants as the white dress shirt underneath was tightly tucked into his dress pants.

His hair was soft and unruly as the curls sit on his head, a masterpiece thanks to your fingers making quick work of his messy hair and some styling mousse.

He opens the door for you, like a complete gentleman, little do you know his eyes are stuck to the picture of your ass bending over to get into his car. Fuck he really has to get a grip of himself.

He follows the gps instruction, coming to a stop at a red light, you realise he’s starring at you, your ears tingle at how hot they feel under his watchful eyes.

“Do I have something on my face?” You question anxiously, pulling down the reflector to check in the mirror if there was something he could be starring at, wanting to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“No, you just look beautiful.” You feel the ache in your heart forming before he finishes the sentence, realising how much you love this man; it was difficult, it almost felt forbidden. Pedro didn’t do relationships, you knew you were absolutely fucked from the moment you met him.

“Hey, everything okay?” You hum in surprise as he pulls you out of your own head, not realising how much your thoughts had consumed you. His brown orbs are full of concern as your mood changes after his compliment, he thinks he’s done something wrong.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got some things on my mind.” His hand rests on your forearm, offering a gentle caress to keep you grounded, with him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He pulls up to the valie parking, the car still running as the man dressed in a tuxedo takes Pedro’s car keys.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just enjoy our evening, sorry for being a bummer.”

Pedro can’t help the frown that pinches his eyebrows together, he wanted to help, to hold you, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this, so distant and far from the woman he knew you to be. He sees the way you push it all back internally, like putting a half read book back onto the shelf to be finished later, the fake smile that sits on your lips as you enter the venue.

The bar is full of people you know, the purple lights shining bright on your matte purple dress, the colour looks incredible on your skin as you approach the bar to ask for a drink. The drink is slid across the bar and you take a sip, scrunching your face up in disgust but swallow the cool liquid anyway, it warms your insides in a way that’s addicting, so you throw your head back and finish what’s in the glass. You ‘ah’ as you set the glass down and order another, confidence through the roof as your empty stomach consumes the calories from the drink.

The lack of food in your stomach had the alcohol settling in your blood stream too quickly, it went straight to your head, feeling a little woozy as you’d consumed the second drink. The tall glass full of nothing but alcohol, your tolerance was below average and you mindlessly leave Pedro at the bar, trying to forget about the love you have for him. Tonight you were going to have fun.

You wished you could’ve prepared yourself for the night ahead of you.

Things were going great for most of the night, casual talk with some family here and there, after your sixth drink in one hour you were beginning to regret not taking more time in between. The last of the liquid slips down your throat, and for the first time since you arrived together, you see Pedro watching you.

A familiar tune rings in your ears through the blaring speakers that would leave you with a headache tomorrow. But for now, that tune set something slight in you, you set the empty glass down on a nearby table, your body moving to the beat. This song did things to you, reminded you of him. You decide to put on a show for him, since he was watching and you were absolutely out of your mind giddy and drunk.

Damn baby all I need is a lil' bit

A lil' bit of this, a lil' bit of that

Get it crackin' in the club when you hear the shit

Drop it like it's hot, get to workin' that back

You keep eye contact as you roll your hips to the music, feeling completely yourself as you amerce yourself and give in to the music completely.

You don’t feel him at first, once you realise he’s behind you, you smirk mischievously with an idea that’s probably not a good idea, but fuck it. He was looking so fine and this song had you feeling some kinda way.

Girl, shake that thing, yeah, work that thing

Let me see it go up and down

Rotate that thing, I wanna touch that thing

When you make it go 'round and 'round

His hands find your hips, guiding you closer to him as you shake your ass skilfully, grinding on him teasingly, you look back to him and his hair is messy, eyes are dark and he’s got one hand rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, a shy grin on his lips as he enjoys himself and the sight of you on him.

The crowd that’s surrounded you was cheering, their voices and noise in the back of your mind as you stand straight and turn to face Pedro, wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms around your waist as you and he work in sync to move against each other.

I wanna unbutton your pants just a lil' bit

Take 'em off and pull 'em down just a lil' bit

Get to kissin' and touchin' a lil' bit

Get to lickin' it, a lil' bit

Pedro’s hand caress your hips, running them up and down your curves, dark eyes watching you intensely as you show off for him, your confidence attracting him to you tenfold. The way your body moved effortlessly, the way you held eye contact with him and ran a hand down his chest seductively had him weak in the knees.

Your hands make quick work to unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt, never minding the people around you that are videoing the interaction, you felt like you and Pedro were the only two people in the room. His hands caress your ass, grabbing a handful in a state of his own drunken haze and need for more of you. He pulls you closer, you’re flush against his sweating body and you feel his rock hard cock straining in the confines of his pants.

You feel yourself soaking your perfect lace panties as his hands guide your ass to grind against him, his eyes breaking contact with your own to lean his forehead down onto your shoulder, kissing the bare skin in butterfly kisses, licking a stripe up your neck never reminding the sweat.

“C’mon baby you’re killing me, need you do fucking bad.” You gasp at his full transparency, regardless of your flirty interaction on the dance floor the song fades out, he still holds you against him, not wanting to lose this moment with you.

“Let’s go home handsome. I’ll take care of you.” He gives you one last squeeze of your ass and rushed through the farewells of the crowd, you walk closely in front of him to hide his indiscretion. Once you’re outside, the cool air has your teeth chattering as you wait for an Uber Pedro had ordered, he would worry about the car later.

You feel a warmth embracing your shoulders, soft material clinging off your body. You turn to Pedro and see he’s given you his suit jacket, left in his white long sleeve dress shirt that’s still tucked into his suit pants. He suddenly seems shy as your eyes scan him up and down, pausing when you see his soft tummy slightly overhanging his dress pants, your hands caress him in a silent praise, but verbalise it anyway, knowing he’s insecure about it.

“Fucking love your tummy, you know that?” You’re swaying, he’s convinced that it’s just because you’re drunk, in a way because you were trying to distract yourself from whatever was upsetting you earlier.

“I know baby.” He holds your head to his chest, playing with your hair with his fingertips grazing your scalp you let out a groan, he always knew how to make you feel good in an intimate way.

You pass out as soon as you get in the Uber, Pedro watches over you to make sure you’re still breathing, the amount you had to drink tonight was more than he’d ever seen. He also didn’t want you to choke if you vomited, so he pulled your body into him, turning your head downward facing his lap, yes it would be unfortunate if you did happen to puke right into his lap, but hey-he would take the chance.

He pays for the Uber when you arrive back at your place, he manages to pick you up bridal style, all while digging through your purse to find your keys to unlock the front door. Not knowing how to manoeuvre around your house in the dark, he turns a light on which stirs you from your slumber, your eyes fluttering open just as he sets you down in your bed.

He returns with a wet washcloth to wipe your face, trying to cool you down, offering you a drink of water which you accept. “Thanks.” You mumble embarrassed of your shenanigans tonight. “Need any help getting into your pyjamas?” You nod pathetically, bottom lip jutting outward in a big pout as you give him your best puppy dog eyes. Your legs still felt like jelly and your arms were too heavy for you to lift, you were starting to sober up, but you just wanted to lay in the comfort of your mountain of blankets and too many pillows.

He unzips your dress from the side, peeling the straps from your shoulders, pulling it down to your ankles and hanging it up on the coat hanger and up on the wall, not wanting to crinkle or have the delicate material stepped on.

He didn’t realise you weren’t wearing a bra when he comes back with pyjamas, the only thing covering your body was the small piece of material of your black mesh panties. He feels guilty that his cock bounces at the sight of you, bare. You’re more perfect than he ever could’ve imagined. He feels like a pervert, you need his help and he tells himself he’s doing wrong by you.

Your hand grasps his, drawing his attention back to your face, your bottom lip sucked in between your teeth as you watch him, noticing his internal struggle as he sees you, all for him.

You grab him by the collar, pulling him down to you, smashing your lips into his in desperation, tears of pent up feelings and hidden emotions coming to play in the fight for dominance. He pulls back, gasping for air, your hands tangle in his hair and tug lightly which earns a soft moan from him.

“We don’t have to do this.” He offers, giving you an out before you possibly ruin your friendship.

“Want to, want you. Love you so much, please.” A single tear escapes the corner of your eye, he wipes it away with his thumb, sincerity on his face as you confess your love for him.

“Fuck baby I’ve always loved you, why didn’t you say anything.” You help him unbutton his shirt, discarding it to your bedside nightstand, it knocks something off in the process which makes you laugh.

“Was scared you wouldn’t want me cause of how I look.” Pedro grips your face gently with one hand, forcing you to look at him, a sympathetic look strewn on his face, “oh baby, you’re so fucking perfect. And god you know how to shake that ass.”

You giggle as he grabs a handful of your ass, pushing your panties to the side in a desperate attempt to feel you, he couldn’t wait much longer. The action sent you into a frenzy, hands grabbing at his belt as you unbuckled him, pulling his pants and underwear down to his knees, spreading your legs to make room for him between your legs. Your eyes are wide and you inhale a gasp as you see the size of him, it’s thick, about 7 inches and a few shades lighter than his skin tone, he was trimmed and fuck he was perfect.

“Is it okay?” He mutters nervously, anxiety driving his insecurity. You look at him through your lashes and bath your eyes at him as he’s hovering over you.

“It’s fucking perfect baby, you’re so big I dunno if I can take it.” Pedro grunts at your praise, his cock jumping upward.

His fingers slide into you easily, your hole is dripping onto your sheets, the alcohol being a bad influence on your holes need to be fucked. He slowly pumps two fingers inside of you, not bothering to take his time to start of with one, you took him easily with how wet you are, sucking his fingers back in as he curled them upward at the spongey flesh that had your back arched off the bed and eyes clenched shut.

“Fuck Pedro, feels so good.” He leans his head down, humming against your breasts, your hardened nipples are aching with need, wanting some attention paid to them too. He kisses them sloppily, nipping and grazing his teeth as he pulls away, the sensation has you squirming beneath him.

“Need more, please,” you beg impatiently, just wanting his cock to fill your cunt, needing to feel him, all of him.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll take care of you.” His thumb meets your aching clit, relieving some pressure as he swirls it around in delicious small tight circles, the pressure was building by the second, the pleasure was almost too much, the skilful action has you gripping your duvet, legs wrapping around his own as you try to pull him closer, “come on baby, cum on my fingers.” You fell apart at his words, creaming on his fingers that massaged your sweet spot, your legs are shaking and your ears are ringing as a string of moans leave your lips. He continues pumping into you slowly, stringing your climax along as much as he can.

When he takes his fingers out of you, the emptiness makes you whine, he sucks your orgasm off his fingers, the action makes you squirm.

“I don’t have a condom baby.” He says pitifully, the head of his cock sticky in clear precum, the head was angry and red at being hard all night with no friction to help relieve him.

“Don’t care, I’m on the pill n I’m clean, please. Need you so bad.” Your voice wavers, still feeling the effects of your orgasm. He guides his cock to your entrance, watching your eyes for any signs of regret. He slides the head in, it’s thick and his fingers are no prep for the size of him, it burns slightly as he pushes in, you whimper, “fuck, so big.” He lets you adjust before pushing further into you, bottoming out, he lets out a breathy groan at the feel of you.

“Not gonna last with how good you feel.” He admits shamefully, you caress his face and kiss his forearm that’s right by your head, “it’s okay baby, move, please.”

Your hole quickly gets used to the size of him, your chest is heavyifng at how he takes your breath away, you bring your legs up to wrap around his lower back, bringing him closer to you, into you.

“Jesus’s fucking Christ baby,” he mutters, finding a steady pace as he pumps into you, slamming into your puffy walls, your whimpers and moans are getting louder and louder as your second climax builds, “fuck ‘m gonna cum, harder please.” He obliges, fucking into you ruthlessly, wanting you to cum again as he begins to sweat, trying to stop himself from cumming in you before you can reach your high.

“Fuck fuck fuck me, fuck Pedro, that’s it. Cock feels so fucking perfect.” Your legs tremble as you fall apart on his cock, stomach spasms as you come undone again, this orgasm coming down on you harder than the last.

Pedro cums seconds later, “fuck, feel so good baby.” His voice is breathy, deep and husky as he cums, his moans loud as the white ropes of his cum paint your walls, his sperm shooting deep inside your womb.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to lie completely flush against your cool, sweaty skin. You both sit in silence as you feel him go soft inside of you. You massage the back of his head, twisting the curls around your pointer finger.

“Did you mean it?” He asks, voice raspy and vulnerable.

“Mean what?” Unsure of what he means, what did you say?

“That you love me.” You feel anxious, a thousand thoughts running through your head per minute.

“Yeah I do.” He relaxed into you more, breathing evens at your words and you feel yourself becoming more at ease.

“Good, cause I want you to be mine."

You kiss the corner of his lips, "would love nothing more than to be yours."

Thank god you went out drinking this evening.

#pedro pascal #pedropascal #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal x plus size reader #pedro pascal request

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unforth · 16 days ago

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i don't know if you are still into 2ha? but what would you say if someone asked you what makes 2ha stand out? It's full of tropes that have been done before and there is nothing new. it's full of cliches according to some people. So, what makes it stand out?

I am still into 2ha, I'd consider it one of my top fandoms right now.

I'll own I find this whole ask rather odd? It implies that novelty is a. possible and b. what I'm looking for in a book.

For a... Name me a book that isn't full or tropes, name me a book that isn't full of "nothing new," name me a book that isn't full of cliches. Enjoyable books aren't ~original~, and imo original is a myth. It's about how the ideas are strung together, not about them being fresh and different and new.

For b... look. I'm almost 42 years old. I've been reading a ton since I was 8. I've read a l.o.t. over the years. And I've come to learn the things I love in characters and books.

Give me a main character (or, in 2ha, BOTH main characters) who thinks they're worthless and will give everything they have to save an innocent stranger. Give me archetypes of self-sacrifice and martyrdom and low self-esteem and adoration and obsession cooked so deep into their bones that it extends over multiple life times. Give me that adoration reciprocated but the pining, oh, it is mutual for these idiots who should be and will be lovers. I'll eat that up every time. Give me someone who thinks they're unlovable but loves the world anyway, and give me someone who loves them so much they'll tolerate the claws.

Give me epic length I can sink my teeth into. Make the plot sprawling, the side characters lush, the world developed. It's okay if some parts drag a little, it's hard to keep momentum over an epic, and one person's "that dragged" is another's "that rocked." Anyway, the slow bits makes the more exciting parts that much more thrilling.

Give me whump, and hurt/comfort, and pain that burns the soul. Make the characters deep and compelling and then confront them with nothing but bad choices, force them to pick... and then see them pick each other, everytime, even in the midst of the darkest night imaginable. Give me unreliable narrators and angst and characters with nobility that shines like the sun even when they're covered in shit.

I adored this kind of story when I was 12 and I started the Wheel of Time and fell in love with Rand al'Thor, and I adore this kind of story now, in Tian Guan Ci Fu and The Husky and His White Cat Shizun and Modu. The patterns in the kinds of books I enjoy most, the ones that make me feral and obsessed, are very consistent, and being Old means I know what those patterns are and I can seek out books that have them, and recognize them when I find them again. It's happening with the book I'm reading now, in fact, and I can feel the feral obsession growling in delight in my brain, lmao.

Ya know how some people go into fanfiction because they love a character and want to see iterations of them over and over a little to the left? Well, that's why I started fanfic, and through fic I found a genre of original fiction that does that for me. I want similar character archetypes in endless iterations of stories, and danmei gives that to me, and that's why I'm up to my nose in danmei fandoms, and why the specific ones I like best are my favorites.

What stands out about 2ha, for me, is that it fits my taste in character archetypes and plot type. If someone out there shares that taste, they'll probably also love it. If they don't share that taste, they may not, but they may, because it's a complex enough book to cater to more than just one specific type of taste. Someone who likes OP control fantasies will also probably like it, for example. I wouldn't recommend it to everyone, and that's not a bad thing. Stories that appeal to everyone tend to be shallow and not attract deep obsession, having sacrificed the depth to draw a wider audience.

Anyway, anon...you phrased this like an anti. 80% of your ask is trashing the book on false premises about tropes and cliches. I genuinely can't tell if this is meant as a troll or if it's sincere, but I've answered as if it's sincere. But regardless, you'll be a lot happier as a reader if you forget originality. Books aren't original. Find an author, genre, series, whatever, that fits your taste, and frolic there. That's the route to happy reading.

I've found mine. I hope you find yours.

#unforth rambles #unforth replies #2ha

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eirenical · 2 months ago

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From the reverse trope prompts: Divorce of Convenience, with Li Lianhua and Di Feisheng, please? 😊

Oh that was a fun trope to write. XD Technically they don't actually get divorced, but the plans are in the works by the end. ;D

If anyone else would like to send me prompts, feel free!

"…you want what?"

Li Lianhua smiled brightly up at him from the blankets they'd just finished rumpling and repeated "A divorce."

[under a cut because people are naked and technically there is sex happening?]

Di Feisheng attempted to pull back, to gain a little space—and hopefully, a little understanding along with it—but Li Lianhua's legs were still firmly wrapped around his waist and he was even now reaching up to pull him down into a kiss. Di Feisheng went readily enough, but when their lips parted, he said quickly, "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to repeat that yet again."

When the third repetition proved to be exactly the same as the first two and shed no more light on his husband's devious mind as they had, he sighed heavily and finally asked a different question: "Why?"

The story that spilled forth after that was as convoluted and confusing as it was enlightening, but the gist of it seemed to be… "You want to get a divorce, so that we can enter a contest. What on earth for?"

This time, when Di Feisheng pulled away, Li Lianhua let him go, watching from his place sprawled naked in the sheets of their bed as Di Feisheng found and dressed in his innermost layers. When Di Feisheng turned back towards him, Li Lianhua was still smiling that small wicked smile that would have immediately had Fang Duobing calling him an 'old fox.' Di Feisheng sighed. "All right. And why should we want to enter this contest?"

Li Lianhua pushed himself up to rest on his hands, his smile widening. "The contest will be to prove which couple knows each other best—one that we should easily win—and the prize is a wedding banquet prepared by Jia Hezhong, one of the foremost chefs in the county."

Di Feisheng let that information settle for a moment before responding. "I have no sense of taste, and neither do you. What good will a wedding banquet do us?"

Li Lianhua's eyes all but sparkled as he shifted up onto his knees, pulling Di Feisheng close enough to rest their foreheads together. "It is rumored that this chef's abode is home to a cursed treasure…"

Di Feisheng pushed a laughing Li Lianhua back into the sheets with every intent of rumpling them further and exhausting him too much to come up with any other schemes. But even so, he knew he would give in, because seeing Li Lianhua flush with excitement for life and mischief was a gift worth far more than the risk of any misadventures this could lead to. There was only one thing he had to make clear first. Leaning in close, he bit down on the juncture of Li Lianhua's neck and shoulder, sucking at the skin until he'd left a significant mark—one that would be with him for days. Then he turned to whisper into Li Lianhua's ear. "We can pretend to be unwed as often as you like… but only if we get to reenact the ensuing wedding night, as well."

Li Lianhua let out a soft gasp and rolled them both so that he was straddling Di Feisheng's hips. The feral grin that spread across his face was an exact match for the one Di Feisheng knew was on his own. Just before he leaned down to seal the deal with a kiss, he said, "With pleasure."

#eirenical.fic #mysterious lotus casebook #dihua #feihua #di feisheng x li lianhua #di feisheng #li lianhua #divorced for the convenience #writing meme answers #rating: m #mlcb fanfic

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imagine-shenanigans · 1 year ago

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hey guys i haven't even had a chance to see atsv yet i just know spoilers and i want this man biblically, i'm talking carnally, i want him in a way that hurts feminism, i want to bring the whole damn movement down so i can be his stupid little housewife and raise his damn kids so i can watch him be happy and then also get railed into losing every brain cell i have

anyway here's some abo headcanons, they include spoilers for the movie/his backstory probably because idk what is and isnt a spoiler because i havent seen it yet.

also this one works a bit differently than my normal layout, it goes SFW and then dips NSFW and ends with more SFW but they're all clearly labeled!

Reader is written gender neutral with they/them and the nsfw section has afab and amab sections, but since I'm Nonbinary and AFAB that's probably how it's gonna come off for most of the reading, just to warn you!

Miguel O'Hara x Reader N/SFW ABO Headcanons

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5k words

Content Warnings (tell me if I miss any): Dubcon, ABO, Obsessive Behavior, Toxic behavior, Omega reader, Alpha Miguel

For these headcanons we're gonna exist in a weird liminal space where Gabi is like, five to six or so and he brought her home with him or some shit idk man I just think he's a hot single father anwyay, also this is assuming omega reader because i think it's hot

if anyone wants a version where Miguel follows more canon and he still lost his kid and came back you're free to request that too i love that shit, just for this specific one i wanna raise his damn kids so-

SFW

Alpha, big alpha energies.

Miguel is the type of guy who's pretty obsessive with what he claims as his, I would honestly say borderline yandere vibes without fully delving into it - his mental state in this au/situation is also a lot better since he still has his daughter, so he's genuinely a lot less "feral" than he tends to get without her, even though in this we'll say he did almost lose her.

So when he claims someone, he's going to be damn sure he means it.

This ones a bit of a general headcanon but he doesn't really have a type when it comes to the people he likes, other than he needs someone who's interesting to him. Whether it's because you're hotheaded, or even keeled, whether you're snarky or sweet, he just needs something for his brain to latch onto.

Not a love at first sight guy but he is an "obsession I can't place" kind of guy.

Miguel has really enhanced senses when it comes to scenting, so it takes some damn strong suppressants and scent blockers to completely block him out... which if we're pretending reader here is falling with the abo trope of "hiding being an omega" (which we are because I love tropes) is just what gets him obsessed. Clothing and perfume that masks your scent, suppressants and scent blockers, and a confident attitude are all enough to throw most people off the (forgive my pun) scent.

But not Miguel.

His spider DNA has the animalistic side to it that fucks with his hormones regardless, makes it easier for him to pick up on the pheromones that even most attentive alphas can't, he's damn near a personal lie detector with how smart he is and how attuned he is to what his nose and instincts tell him, even when he's using serums to keep the more feral urges at bay.

He can only get a whiff of you, fainter than most betas, and it drives him fucking insane knowing he can smell something but he can't figure it out. He can't place it, and it nags at his brain. He can smell a whiff of flowers, or sugar, or something undeniably citrus (depending on what you headcanon your own smell to be) but he can't place it and he hates that shit.

Ends up pulling some traditional alpha shit and he can't even help it, starts trying to crowd you until you kick him in the shin or Peter B or Jess shoos him away. He has to figure out what it is, he has to know.

It only gets worse when he brings Gabi in (a babysitter fell through) and you end up butting your way in to play with Gabi and Mayday, delighting in watching them for the day instead of whatever you were supposed to be doing. They're both so cute and sweet.

Gabi smells primarily like cinnamon and a bit like dewey grass - she's not old enough to have presented yet, but her basic scent, unaffected by the secondary gender hormones, is simple and sweet, reminds you of a summer morning.

She takes after her father in that regard - Miguel smells *warm* and a bit musky, like trees and cinnamon and, a bit like a camp fire. A small tinge of oil, when you pick it apart, and you can't tell if its from the lingering scent on his skin after fixing a broken machine nobody else could, or if that's part of his natural scent.

(Mayday smells like marshmallows, and carmel, funnily enough)

When you take care of Gabi and Mayday, your scent lingers on their skin, mixes and twists in a way that Peter B can't notice but Miguel can. It's all he can do not to be a damn freak and pick his baby girl up and sniff her hair to try and figure out why she smells like that (not in a creepy way, to clarify because there are some freaks on here, but in the same way a dog gets baffled by smelling you use a new perfume, or in the way of when you pick your kid up and go "WHY DO I SMELL CANDLES ON YOU WHAT WERE YOU DOING")

He almost can't stand how his head swims when he watches you pick Gabi up and gently throw her up in the air a bit, watching you let her climb onto you while you're distracted just like Mayday does. Soothe her tears when she accidentally breaks a toy because she's still learning to control her super strength.

He doesn't know that he wants you either, not until long after he's already manifested feelings. Doesn't realize how protective he is, doesn't realize how differently he treats you. He doesn't realize he's lingering in your area just long enough to make sure he can fill his nose with the faint scent you give off.

He assumes you're a beta - not that it mattered to him, really. Miguel would just as soon marry another alpha as he would a beta or an omega, as long as it's you.

He doesn't realize what he's doing until he's got a piece of your clothing in his hands, holding it in the dead of night up to his nose. A scarf or a glove or a jacket you'd leant to Gabi during the day and she'd spilled her juice on it and he'd taken it home to wash it.

He can smell his daughter's scent, louder than life, so familiar he could have a handful of pepper thrown at him and he'd still be able to wrap his arms around her and move her out of harm's way in the direst of straits.

And then there's yours, linger, mingling with his daughter's scent, and it's the parent of his child.

It's not, it's not the woman who birthed Gabi, it's not the woman who contributed to making her. It's you, the only other person he ever wants near his child in that capacity. And it's intoxicating. It's infuriating. It's overwhelming because the full breadth of his own emotions is so strong as he realizes what he's been doing. And he can't even tell you because he holds himself to a specific standard, a specific code of ethics, and even though he wants to risk it all just so his hindbrain (both alpha and spider and his own human instincts all mingling in one) can have his little loves all wrapped up in his arms, safe where he can protect them.

He only just has the strength to wash the piece of cloth and return it. It takes everything he has not to cling to it, to make a pretty little nest to protect his family in, webs and pillows and fabric, a basis of protection so you can properly make it your own and -

He controls himself, and returns the scarf the next day, leaving it on your desk because he can't bear to look you in the eyes.

The days struggle by, a stark contrast to his normal snark, to lingering in your space and snorting and rolling his eyes. To being by your side more than he normally is. It's disheartening, it makes you feel rejected, and he knows it.

But he doesn't stop, this tension that can cut through the air lingering. Even Gabi and May notice it, the older girl frowning and the younger fussing when the two of you are in the room together.

And then your heat happens.

(brief bullet point break because there's a limit to how much you can have in one bulleted section on tumblr and I don't remember what it is but I'd rather just break here)

You've been on suppressants and scent blockers for years now. Being in your line of work (whether you headcanon this as a spiderperson version of you, or a different kind of superhero, or a civillian all working in the society) it's necessary. Omegas aren't rare but they're not the majority of the population like betas are. In Nueva York, it's a coin toss if you'll be fought over in the streets like some prize to be won, or if you'll be coddled like a child who can't figure out what's best for them.

It's half safety half preference at this point, from your original universe's standard (before it had burnt to cinders before you), and this one's. Your suit, your meds, and your behavior, they're all meant to mask and confuse.

But you can only make it so long on the prescription you've got, the long-lasting shots that were more reliable than a pill. The scent blockers go first - not by design, but by chance. You'd been giving yourself lower doses since you'd wound up in Nueva York, supplementing it with deodorants and lotions swiped from stores and hospitals that could afford to spare the supplies when you can't buy it covertly. But you'd still been low in comparison to your suppressants.

You shower more frequently, lather yourself with soaps and deodorants and lotions of different scents and ones that have blocking effects, and for the most part it works. You can't quite fool Gabi - too smart, too tuned in to your emotions like her father could be. She's got a sharp nose, and she wrinkles it when she can smell how confusing your scent is. She asks questions, and you can't lie your way out of it, but you are able to bribe her so she's distracted long enough that she forgets the question. Miguel notices, when he picks up Gabi, but he can't quite figure out exactly what's wrong, and you leave so fast (he assumes with the tension that lingers between the two of you) that he can't figure it out.

You're so certain you're in the clear.

But then your shots run out, and even you can't get more without a prescription. And while your health information would never go through Miguel, you know that the medispiders have to go through him or Lyla for any heavy duty things like suppressants, because they have to be resourced more carefully.

And your last doctor, although wildly shady, and incompetent, and operating out of an apartment, was right about one thing - suppressants will rot you from the inside out if you're not careful. If you don't let a natural heat occur, it will only be worse in the long run. (Although you suppose he probably had a greasier, grosser reason for telling you that.)

And rot you from the inside they have - all your natural reactions to a heat, all your normal bodily functions don't work properly, when confronted with something they haven't seen in years. You know within seconds of your suppressants flushing out of your system what's going on. You're still in the pre-heat phase of things, and you feel like you're dying. You aren't, and you know you aren't, but you feel nauseous and feverish and incoherent within an hour tops. Only long enough to let you panic and send a text to Miguel that you can't watch Gabi like you'd planned. That you're going out ad you won't be back awhile. You leave your phone in your room, when you pack your bag and head for the nearest somewhat reputable hotel that you can afford. You brace the door with the dresser, explicit instructions left for the front desk to, under no circumstances, contact you for the next week.

You get an order of pre-made meals to slap into the fridge, water and juice and all sorts of drinks and things shoved haphazardly inside once the bot brings it in through the window. You're barely coherent enough to retain control to crush the landline, rendering it inoperable, before you barricade the rest of the room.

You're definitely not in control when you nest, blankets and pillows and clothing all thrown haphazardly around as you go fully out of your gourd.

You're damn well out of your mind by the time you would have normally realized the card you were using was in Miguel's name.

(another very brief line break in this portion for drama but also so I don't hit any limits)

Miguel is pissed when you leave so suddenly.

Sure, he's been avoiding you, and sure, you aren't actually together, but you're his damn it. You don't know it, and sure, he's not going to acknowledge it out loud until something happens, but you can't just leave him and your child and his child who loves you high and dry like that!

It's laughably easy to find you, to find the hotel you've checked into. He doesn't even wait to figure out the reason you left, he's so quick on his honestly kinda toxic bs.

Gabi is left with Peter B and Jess for a bit, and Miguel is honestly so smug that he finds you so fast. You were so sloppy about it. So quick to leave that even though you left your phone behind, in a moment of clarity, you barely bothered to take back streets. You used his own damn card he'd given you to pay for the hotel for two weeks, and to order food.

If he weren't half out of his mind with concern and anger about how quickly you left, he'd be angry you used the card without asking like you normally did.

(His hind brain purrs with it though, knowing he's provided for you)

He doesn't know what did it. Miguel genuinely doesn't know what he did to earn your ire in such a way, but he can guess. He doesn't think it's how cold he was, in the beginning, but he isn't sure that it's not how he'd warmed up to you. How, when he'd let his guard down without realizing it, that he'd flirted with you. Had that made you uncomfortable? Had every 'innocent' brush against you turned you against him? Certainly, it could be his absence, his sudden coolness and stonewalling. It could be how he refused to look at you, when you were in the room. Tried to hold his breath after he'd realized what he was doing.

He doesn't really listen to Lyla when she tries telling him things. He heard where you where, found out the room, and swiped a key before Lyla could finish talking about vital signs and behaviors. She knows to set his alerts to emergency only for the foreseeable future, because she's figured it out much quicker than he has, and she figures she'll at least spare herself the trouble. Gets Gabi set up with Jess for the night, and is on her way so she doesn't have to deal with what's about to go down.

He's surprised by the dresser in front of the door, when he tries to get in the first time. It's easy for him to move - he just lowers his center of gravity and pushes his way into the room, slamming the door shut before he can inhale.

The hotel room is nice, with a kitchenette and a small entry area with a couch and a television. The bedroom is just tucked out of sight. Exactly what he expected when he'd heard the hotel's name - he'd never been, but he recognized it.

And it's when he inhales, that he realizes why.

Your scent hits him hard and fast, chokingly sweet in the back of his throat in a way that makes his hindbrain roar. His pupils blow wide, and if he didn't have such a strong self control, he'd have torn the damn door off its hinges looking for you.

He remembers, in that moment, why he recognized the hotel. It was one that was best known for its handling of customers in heat and rut.

NSFW INTERLUDE

(We're gonna start with general headcanons and go back into the specifics of the scenario in a sec but it's all relevant fjasdkl;)

Miguel is a Dom-leaning switch, he prefers to be in control as often as possible, regardless of whether he's topping or bottoming. Nine times out of ten, he wants to fuck his partner until they're an incoherent, babbling mess, because he enjoys the power and control it gives him, enjoys the dynamic of it.

As he gets more comfortable with a partner, he's more willing to accept the idea of subbing, enjoying it more when he has someone he trusts behind the wheel, so to speak.

(Because yes, Alphas can be subs too - that's a whole thing I could get into and might if someone asks)

And Miguel, even normally, is already a possessive guy. He's needy, and stakes his claim, and when we're talking about abo Miguel?

Sheeeeeesh

The moment he scents you in the air, the moment it clicks in his brain that you're going through a rut or a heat, it goes straight to his dick.

He damn near loses it, fighting not to tear the door off its hinges as he stalks to your room. Your scent is so strong in the air that even though he knows he should turn around, he still at the very least wants to make sure you're okay. So the sight of you, face down, ass up, fingers pressing into yourself, he almost loses his damn mind.

His pretty little wife/husband/spouse coworker, his crush, is an omega. It's almost too good to be true, and he can feel his fucking fangs extend, his mouth watering as he stares at you. You're too blissed out to even realize he's there, slick dripping down your thighs like a fucking faucet... and his name is on your lips.

He could cum untouched, could die a happy, happy man after seeing this.

He has dignity, and self control though, even as the force of your hit heats him. He's genuinely concerned, a moment later, his instinct to breed to claim tampered down by his need to care.

You cling to him, hazy, feverish, and incoherent. You beg him to claim you, to mark you, to fuck you. Miguel wants to, he does... but he instead kicks his shoes off but otherwise stays fully clothed, his cock so hard it hurts as he grabs the closest bottle of water, and an ice pack, and climbs into your haphazard nest with you. He probably should have left by now, but instead he seats you against him, your back pressed to his chest, and he presses the ice pack to your forehead, ordering you to keep it there as he makes you drink water, sip by sip.

You whine, and beg, and squirm, but you obey.

He fucks you on his fingers, once he's gotten some water into you. Hard and fast, leaving you breathless, tense, until you cum all over his fingers, oversensitive as he fingerfucks you into another one, and another, arms like steel wrapped around your waist as one hand pounds into you, the other wrapped around your dick or circling hard on your clit. It's not enough to genuinely sate your heat, but it's enough to help. And he doesn't trust himself to put his own mouth to use - barely trusts himself to speak, even though most of what he growls into your ear is, strictly speaking, complete and utter nonsense as he's caught in the moment. Every time you cum, he praises you, telling you how good you are for it. How sweet you look, with tears streaming down your face, cumming so well for him.

When there's enough coherency for you to have a conversation (but not coherent enough to be mortified), Miguel is able to get the rough gist of the situation. He really can only piece together that the heat is going to be a strong one, that it came fast, and that you had panicked. There's a confession, to be had there. He agrees to help you through your heat, but only under the condition that you're his.

It's toxic, and of dubious consent at best, but he'll pull as many orgasms out of you as needed to keep you coherent enough to talk to him. He's helped an omega through a heat or two, and he knows what he's doing. He's not exactly clearheaded himself, in making the decision - but he does make sure that this is truly what you want before he proceeds.

When he's sure that it's not just the heat speaking, that you truly do care for him, that you want him to stay even after your heat has subsided, he allows himself to indulge.

Sympathy ruts are common, and it builds slowly inside of him as he indulges in his instincts. Holding you, kissing you, pressing his fingers inside of you over and over and over again until you pass out. He keeps you wrapped up in the nest, adding his shirt to the mix while you sleep, but not trusting himself to completely strip quite yet.

Miguel is an attentive alpha.

(While you sleep, he excuses himself from the nest to call his daughter, to assure her everything will be okay, and he just explains simply that you'd gotten sick, that you needed him for a bit, and that he'd be back once you were feeling better. He promises to call every night, and he works out a schedule with Peter B and Jess in the meantime.)

(When you overhear him, voice so soft, so protective, so gentle, it half makes you want to swoon, and half want to climb on his lap and fuck yourself stupid on his cock until he fills you up so you can give his daughter a sibling.)

This man is going to spend a good majority of his time pre-sympathy rut fucking you open on his fingers and his mouth. He wants to make sure you're ready, wants to make sure he can enjoy this for as long as possible.

By the end of it, he makes sure to fuck you, nice and steady, a hand on your throat and his lips on yours. He makes sure you're nice and coherent for it. He wants to make sure you remember it, when he claims you. When his (fucking horse cock, the dude's packing like ten to twelve inches which is great for my chubby bitches like me) dick fills you up so full that you're almost certain you'll break, hiccupping and sobbing as you keen and wail, the nest below you soaked as he fills you up. His fangs sink into your neck and you cum, right then, his hands grabbing your thighs so hard he's sure it will bruise. He fucks you through your orgasm, knot catching until it slips inside. He rubs your clit/tugs on your dick as he finally knots you, making sure you cum just one more time for me, cariño.

normal Miguel definitely has a claiming and breeding kink, so it's fucking intensified by ten when he's omegaverse Miguel... let alone when the man's subject to his rut. You'll be covered in scratches and bites and hickies by the time you're both coherent enough to function properly again.

Which... for Miguel, is a solid few hours of coherency at a time.

For you? You're only ever coherent in short bursts, and it's like the peak of your heat constantly for almost the full week.

This next bit just mostly borders on nsfw/has some nsfw parts so i'll put it at the end here before going back to sfw

Like I mentioned before, Miguel is a very attentive alpha.

He's going to fuck you seven different ways in an hour with his superhuman stamina, but he's also going to make sure to actually take care of you.

He makes sure you drink electrolytes and water in equal measure, makes sure you eat, and sleep, and he bathes you himself, carrying you into the shower and keeping you pressed against him as he massages your muscles and washes your hair and body with a soft cloth, using completely unscented soaps and shampoos so it doesn't overwhelm you. Presses bandages to your scrapes and bites so you'll heal faster. Cool cloths and ice packs and fever reducing medicine.

He finds he has to bribe you, during this time, even for the most basic tasks like eating and drinking, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy having to plug you up with his cock just to get you to eat wasn't hot as hell. The fact that you need him so badly you'd rather forgo basic necessities... it's addicting. Granted, he doesn't actually let you - he's got enough control that he can make sure you're taken care of in all regards.

Back to SFW time!

After your heat itself passes, you're subject to the suppressant sickness that comes with it. Your fever has broken, but you're still nauseous and dizzy and fatigued as your body flushes everything out of your system.

Miguel is beyond pissed when he finds out why you're still sick.

It's reckless to not even have a natural heat once every six months, let alone taking your suppressants so solidly that you hadn't had one in years. If he'd known, he'd have said consequences be damned and would have bitten you the moment he walked through the door, and taken you to the hospital.

He doesn't care how embarrassed you are, when he packs all of your things back up into the sealable bags, and dresses you in his own clothing. He's almost out of his mind when he takes both of you back to HQ - only just remembering to take back corridors to the medic so they can check you over properly.

You've then got two spider people who are pissed, as the medic rants about how dangerous that was, how stupid it was that you did that, instead of just swallowing your pride and letting them help you control things. They order you on house arrest for a full month, to make sure your body can recover properly. No suppressants, no scent blockers (at least the medical kind) for a couple years, and only medicine that's medically necessary, and even then it has to be monitored more carefully.

Miguel lets the Medispider tear you a new one for a moment while he steps into the hallway, giving you privacy and space to figure things out with the doctor while he catches up with Gabi.

When you're done with the Medispider, it's not a question on if you're staying with Miguel or not - you really don't have a choice in the matter, he tells you. When you're recovered, you can decide if you want to move in or not, but until then he was going to personally keep an eye on you.

Gabi, who lacks the complete understanding of the why and the how behind it all, is just glad that the person they've been trying to scheme their father into confessing to is actually going to live with them. (Even if only for about a month.) She grins smugly when she realizes you smell like her dad.

Miguel lets you have pick of the house, when he carries you back to his beautiful, cozy suburban home. He leaves the proper tour up to Gabi, as he carries you both, letting Gabi tell you about everything excitedly. You stay in his bed (you two had claimed each other, and although Miguel does give you the option of your own room... you'd rather die than lose the comfort that comes with being around your mate.)

Miguel cooks properly for you while you stay with him and Gabi.

No more prepackaged meals, he sneers, instead making you chicken noodle soup from scratch, with bone broth and lots of vegetables. Breakfast every morning before he takes Gabi to school, tucks you in to sleep while he pops into the HQ to check on things. He's out of commission from missions while he cares for you, but he still makes sure things go smoothly. He's home by lunch, sometimes bringing you fast food instead of cooking so you can have your fill of a greasy burger or fries or something to sate the part of you that needs something unhealthy and indulgent. Holds you in his lap while you both eat, watching TV on the couch.

He finishes his work and goes on emergency-only mode when it's time to pick up Gabi from school. He tucks you into the passenger seat if you feel up to it, buckling you up himself and pressing a kiss to your lips, even though he doesn't need to. He knows you can buckle yourself up, and lets you do so when you insist, but it makes him happy to know he's taking measures to keep you safe.

He does force you to take a blanket with you, just in case though.

When all three of you get home, he makes dinner, sometimes with Gabi helping him, sometimes you, sometimes just himself. He has a pretty wide range of foods he ends up making, but it's primarily because they're foods he likes, or Gabi likes, and he learned to make them. He's a good cook, overall.

It's the best work-life balance he's had in a long time.

When you're better, he all but begs you to stay.

And god, how could you say no to him?

(Also for those who it matters for, if you do end up pregnant from the Heat Adventures he obviously loves kids and would love one with you, but if you don't feel ready/don't want to have kids other than Gabi, he absolutely respects it, and will talk about options with you. Granted, he'll be disappointed, but at the end of the day it's not something he CAN'T move past. Discusses birth control options with you almost immediately when the two of you get intimate again.)

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara spiderverse #spiderverse #strawberry writing #strawberry headcanons #also on god if i find any minors in my notes or in my inbox i'll maim you #i might turn this into a proper fic at some point #but you get the really long headcanon/rambly version that's all just ideas for now #because i like to feed my followers and the tag #gotta contribute b/c theres some damn good fics ive read so far #smut #i gotta update my tags smh #great news everyone i got wildly into this one #so it gets posted early

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mecachrome · 3 months ago

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i swear there is something about landoscar that makes me insane like i got into this fandom and have liked a lot of ships like maxiel, carlando, lestappen etc but there is just something different about landoscar??? idk if it's the dynamic between the two?? or if it's oscar's personality that makes their interactions feel genuine but i would love your analysis or thoughts on this cause WHYYYYYYY have these boys taken over my brain like so??? i swear other ships are literally out here hugging like mad and saying sexual innuendos to each other etc etc and im unfazed but i see oscar and lando have the slightest touch or glance at each other and im feral foaming at the mouth lmfaooooo !!!

omggg anon i answered an ask here about why 814's personalities appeal to Me Personally but maybe i shouldn't get too into that... 😔

anyway idk whether this makes any sense but perso with some rpf ships i find that the myth somewhat outweighs the canon or vice versa — i.e. the "potential narrative" of a ship is really compelling but it doesn't quite exist as it's written in canon, or a ship doesn't have that many compelling extra narratives other than the existing relationship that's strongly visible in canon. and i think these are all great and fun to ship, but i guess as EYE see it it sort of feels like 814 balance those aspects fairly well? like they have a dece amount of sweet and interesting interactions with each other, but obviously they're not best friends and there's enough of this like, sense of repression + the fact of their personalities being not fully diametric but still different enough that it feels like you can take them in a lot of directions. i really like that landoscar aren't quite foils but also aren't "twins" either as some people say, and oscar despite being so lauded as mature is still inspired by lando in many ways and shares the same sarcastic humor as him and enjoys his presence a lot. they work because they aren't opposites but there are enough crucial aspects that separate them so you can make a lot of tropes and aus fit them. which isn't to say you can't do the same with the other ships you mentioned but... idk i'm also just biased because i'm an oscarybroTM so i don't really think about 90% of the grid so i'm fundamentally less invested HLKSDFHLH

also i've mentioned this b4 but my favorite hockey ship (2124) is literally the hockey version of oscar (dorky californian sportsnerd who brings his gaming setup on road trips to play fifa) x his dry finnish linemate whom he doesn't even interact with off the ice but ON the ice they have the most electric wordless chemistry and are constantly aware of where the other is and play beautifully together and get super awkward when reporters try to talk to them about it. so like to me unspoken collaboration IS a beautiful and worthy thing to rpf about.... *__* so clearly i enjoy teammate repression and awkwardness in my ships already but then 814 are kind of even more insane because they're less myth than 2124 so there's SO much to chew on. at least for moi 🥰 icl i'm a little bit anti-pda so constructing intricate rituals to look longingly at other men and laugh at their bad jokes is more compelling to me than straight up skinship/bgp... i was just telling @inchidentally whose analysis i feel like might be up your alley that i don't rly get why people act like oscar's "heart eyes" toward lando are "pr" (???) because from everyth we've been told and see about him it's so clear that he's always been just himself and the level of... unguarded emotion he displays around lando isn't something you can just make up imo. even if it's just little things and they go off and do completely different things off-track (which again i kind of enjoy. like romanze can be guy who goes off to party with models the day after a race x guy who's in bed gearing up his 10th joke about getting his wisdom teeth removed) it makes them rly fun to watch ;__;

#(tl;dr they're for the awkward autistic lesbians 😔)#ask #sorry for the nonsensical morning reply... can u believe i have to work even though [sad health sounds] :(#814 meta

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squidsquadlove · 8 months ago

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question for you, but also just krakenblr in general: favorite aspects/headcanons of the goalie nesting trope? I've been Researching (reading a very wide variety of fic to see what the general interpretation is) and the conclusion I'm coming to is that it really varies 😂

HI I AM SORRY FOR THE DELAY it has not been a good few weeks for health and ability to think clearly BUT ABOUT GOALIE NESTING:

Honestly, I think most people thinking about and writing about goalie nesting are making it up as we go! The idea that goalies can go feral and require a Safe Place and maybe it's their net or maybe it's a bed is a really fun one for anyone who loves goalies, because there are a few things that are universal among goalies:

Pucks do not belong in the net.

The crease is MINE, GTFO NOW.

If I'm left out to dry I reserve the right to go after the defensemen with a knife.

Whatever went wrong, everyone is going to blame me.

After a good game, I deserve praise, headbonks, and hugs.

BUT ALSO there is such a huge amount of protectiveness toward goalies that, between that and the headbonks, it seems like they need extra special caretaking! (You'll hear a lot of Canadian hockey players saying that they've been told ever since they can remember that you never, ever, EVER let someone run your goalie, and I don't like much about the TBL, but that one time when someone ran at Vasilevskiy and all five skaters on the ice immediately dropped their gloves and tackled the other team did win my respect.)

There are a few headcanons for goalie nesting that seem to be fairly universal, such as goalies growling or chirping when they're feral, often needing their teams' jerseys, and skaters being a little bit terrified of them. That's about it as far as I can tell, and there's so much less goalie nesting fic than I'd like!

For the Kraken, I've enjoyed the notion that it was harder for them to start nesting because of being an expansion team, so it was hard for everyone to get used to each other. I also love the idea that since Joey Daccord comes from a family tradition of goaltending, he might have started nesting at 12, gathering up his stuffed animals and guarding them with a mini goalie stick in his room. (Aww!) And given what Grubauer does when someone takes too many liberties in his crease, I imagine he's a really territorial goalie. 😂 But I would love to hear more ideas about goalie nesting!

#goalie nesting #krakenblr

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specialgradefckr · 2 months ago

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Is your heatwave series still ongoing? Going crazy over it atm

I must say that I just loooove it! I'm crazy about Omegaverse especially since you can mess with the universe lots— the thought of feral men💕

And you do it sooo well aaah! I love your stuff<333

I adore adding a trope of inner wolf (think of inner monologue/their institutional primal side that's absolutely unhinged) makes me giggle— hear me out : they *try* to be nice and polite and a good alpha to the sweet little omega it's just... they smell so good and their wolf is just soooo hungry!!

Even better if there's like a forbidden trope >:) he knows he shouldn't and it's wrong but he can't help it!! That dumb little mutt brain of his doesn't care about what's wrong or right, cheating or whatnot hehe

Or a servere commitment issues Gojo who's wold is practically *drooling* over sweet lil omega y/n!! he tried to fight it so much but he failed:( he must look sooo pathetic all panting and growling like a wild dog but it feels sooo good! He hates the idea of commitment but his wolf is so desperate that its almost as if the omega is his owner >:) perhaps commitment isn't so bad...

Anyway, a little unplanned rant, thank you for the food!!

You're very welcome <3

The Heatwave series has three fics left to go - day 8 and 10 are half-written, and day 9 I'm kinda worried about but I'll get there when I get there skjfhglhdg.

I've gotten pretty distracted with this yandere fic ngl sdfkghlsdhg

But yeah!! Omegaverse stuff has been really fun to write for the most part. It helps that I've mixed it up a bit - beta reader, alpha reader, and omega reader. The final day is omega/omega and I'm really excited for that!

I'm glad you enjoy it so much! Sometimes I do look at the works and go "is this even really omegaverse" so it's nice to know I'm doing well on that front.

See, the "inner wolf" thing makes me think too much of werewolf stuff (which I don't necessarily hate but it's not the angle I'm going for). But I can achieve basically the same effect with like, "your omega instincts compel you", and I also really like how that can blend with the reader's internal monologue.

Like your omega instincts are telling you to jump on his knot, sure, but that's also just you wanting to jump on his knot. It feels less distant, more like an intrusive thought than a separate entity. I've enjoyed some stuff that had the "inner wolf" stuff going on, though! It can be great for breaking up the more stoic characters.

I am definitely all for characters going feral and wild with need. Is it?? Even LOVE? If it isn't driving them completely insane???

As for Gojo being a commitment-phobe - I do see it, and I do also see Gojo going so wild and impulsive that he accidentally ties himself into something he doesn't want.

Would be absolutely hilarious to see him fighting mate-withdrawal, alpha protector/provider instincts, etc. I think a lot of the appeal there would be him trying to walk back on the mating but not being able to, and then you're also in the picture bringing your own complicated feelings to the table and maybe throwing his shitty behavior in the face... so many fun ways to go about it.

#answered asks #speg chatter #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #omegaverse #alpha!gojo #omega!reader #female!reader #y/n

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dilfspitdrinker · 1 year ago

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Let The Light In | Joel Miller x reader

Description: You’ve been babysitting Joel Miller’s daughter all summer. No matter now much you try to deny it, you know you’re into him. But it’s just a little crush that you thought could never be reciprocated, until one fateful phone call. The shift between you two is irresistible, and you’re in for more than you ever anticipated. A/N: I love the babysitter trope lol, also pre outbreak Joel makes me feral. Basically, I couldn't resist writing and posting this, it's lived in the notes app for long enough. Masterlist Chapter 2

Chapter 1

You listened to the rings intently, praying that Joel would pick up the phone but dreading the moment he does.

The fresh night breeze swept over you the moment you swung open the door, exiting the frat house. You didn’t know when it had started raining, but you didn’t care, it was still better than the suffocating atmosphere inside.

Joel answered on the fourth ring, “Hey, is something wrong?” The worry in his voice was apparent, and you couldn’t help but feel a little pathetic for having to ask this.

“I’m so sorry to bother you Joel, I know it’s late but… do you think you could pick me up?”

Before you could even explain yourself, he responded, “Of course I can, where are you?”

You told him the address, watching people stumble out of the door. You wrapped an arm around yourself, as if that could shield you from the downpour.

“Alright darlin’, I’ll be right there, stay put.”

“Okay, please hurry, I’m hoping to leave without anyone noticing-“

Bursting out the door was the guy you came here with, his whole demeanor looking irritated and volatile. He caught your gaze and walked over to you, feigning a more cool attitude.

“Hey, that’s where you went! Come on, the party’s inside,” he tried tugging you along, but you took a step back.

“I’ll be right in, I’m talking to one of my friends,” you attempted a smile, desperate to not provoke his anger.

He raised an eyebrow, “Your friend a chick?”

In a split second you decided that maybe you shouldn’t give any indication that you’re actually asking a grown ass man to come get you. The only response you could manage: “Yeah.”

“Cool, tell her to pull up,” he started walking back towards the door, “and hurry up, I got a drink waiting for you babe.”

Only after he closed the door did you go back to your phone conversation. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was that?” Joel’s voice turned low and serious.

“The guy I came here with,” you sighed, embarrassed.

“Why’re you hanging around assholes like that?”

“I don’t know, I have a class with him and he randomly started talking to me and he didn’t seem so douchey at first. But I should’ve known he’d be the same as every other frat boy,” you rambled, excluding how he’d been trying to get you to drink since the minute you two showed up.

Joel’s tone softened a bit, “Don’t beat yourself up darlin’. Nothin’ wrong with trying to see the good in others, but that doesn’t mean you should overlook the negatives, either. I’m almost there, alright?”

He’d have to be going at least 20 over the speed limit to be almost here. You were about to insist that he slow down, be careful, if you’re gonna get me I need you to actually make it here. But the rain stopped you from protesting as the chill seeped into your bones. About an hour ago it was such a warm night, you decided to forgo a jacket. Heavily regretted that now as your clothes and hair quickly got soaked.

A few anxious and cold minutes later, a pair of headlights finally approached. You cut through the lawn to meet him as the black pick up truck rolled up next to the crowded driveway.

“Hey darlin’,” he greeted you as you climbed in. God, you poor thing, you looked like a wet puppy, it made him want to wrap you in a warm blanket and scoop you up.

“Hi Joel. Thank you so much for getting me, I know it’s late.”

“It’s no inconvenience to me, I was still awake anyway,” he glanced over at you, adding, “And I’m glad you know that I got you whenever you need me.”

You nodded, suppressing a smile. Once your seatbelt was on, he drove away, and a sense of relief washed over you.

You’d been babysitting Joel’s daughter Sarah all summer, and in that time you and Joel had really grown fond of each other. Not that either of you showed it much. He was your employer, and at least 10 years older than you anyway. At best, you figured he thought of you as family. Still, you didn’t want to push it, since it would be all too easy for the lines to get blurry, and you both knew that. But he clearly cared deeply for you, and would often remind you to call if you need anything, anytime. And tonight was the occasion. You’d only convinced yourself to dial Joel’s number by telling yourself that there wasn’t really anyone else you could call. You were still new to Austin, and hadn’t made any solid friends yet this early in the semester. Sarah was pretty much your best friend now, and Joel…

It was a conscious effort to keep him at arms length.

He broke the silence, “So, I didn’t really think frat parties were your thing.”

“They’re not. I was barely there for an hour and already looking for a way to leave,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. At least I knew not to drink anything.”

“Very smart. Good job looking out for yourself there.” You noticed the way his calloused hands gripped the wheel. “That guy, does he know where you live?”

“Yeah,” you swallowed, thinking of the same worst case scenarios.

He paused for a minute, hoping this wouldn’t come out the wrong way, “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. I don’t want you staying at your place alone tonight. You can stay at mine, I’ll set up the pull out couch.”

The truck came to a stop at an otherwise deserted intersection. A left would lead to his place, continuing straight would take you to yours.

He turned to you, “What do you think?”

The suggestion caught you off guard. The thought of sleeping at his place filled you with a sort of nervous excitement, like you were about to do something you shouldn’t. It definitely felt like you’d be overstepping a very delicate boundary. But he offered, so it would be no harm, right?

“I just want to make sure you’re safe,” he added, voice earnest.

The light turned green. He waited for your response.

“Sounds good,” you nodded.

The truck took a left turn, and you two were silent for the rest of the ride.

At his house, you stood in the living room, feeling strangely out of place. You had been here so many times to look after Sarah, but being here without that purpose made you feel like an awkward guest.

Placing his keys on the coffee table, Joel said without looking at you, “Alright, you go take a shower, warm up. Take as long as you need.”

The statement made you red in the face, but you weren’t about to refuse. You’d had a shitty night, you needed this.

In the bathroom, you winced at yourself in the mirror. You were a bit of a mess, and became newly embarrassed that Joel had to see you so disheveled. Your hair was soaked from the rain, and you knew that would make it dry all frizzy. Couldn’t hurt to wash it, even though that would take some extra time… Joel did just tell you to take as much time as you need. But you already felt a little opportunistic for agreeing to stay the night at his house, you didn’t want to take advantage of his hospitality by hiking up his bills. You sighed at your reflection. Your clothes were dark with rainwater, and peeling them off made you shiver. Take as long as you need echoed in your mind. The way his voice had turned so gentle made you shiver too.

You turned the knob until the water was nice and steamy. Sweet relief. Felt like a warm hug. Don’t think about Joel hugging you. You took a look at the shampoo options. A bright pink bottle with a unicorn on it, obviously Sarah’s. Smelled like an artificial fruit salad. The bottle next to it was dark green, the label declaring cypress and mint. You went with that one, trying to ignore the fact that it’s Joel’s shampoo. Something about that felt a little too intimate.

Then came two gentle knocks at the door, followed by his voice, “I set out some dry clothes for you in my room. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

You sighed contently. You scrubbed your hair clean, soap and worries washing down the drain.

His room was right next to the bathroom, and out of sight from the kitchen. Wrapped in a towel, you scampered over to the bedroom.

There you saw some folded clothes set on the corner of the bed. Somehow it didn’t occur to you before that it would be his clothes. You slipped on the sweatpants, the extra fabric bunching around your ankles. The sleeves of the hoodie covered your hands entirely. Not allowing yourself to indulge your fantasies, instead you were a little mortified about this whole situation. You almost didn’t want to step out there and face him. But you had to, thinking it would be weird if you stayed in his room any longer.

As if to avoid creating a disturbance, you treaded lightly down the hall and rounded the corner into the kitchen. He was sitting at the small dining table, and quickly lifted his eyes.

He could hardly believe the sight before him. His clothes hanging loosely off your shoulders and hips. Hair still damp, framing your face. Straight out of his daydreams. Every time you came to look after Sarah, he secretly loved your little outfits and hairstyles, but you’ve never looked this good.

“Can I throw these in the dryer?” you asked, holding the bundle of your wet clothes.

His voice caught in his throat for a moment, “Of course-“

You already turned to do it yourself before he could offer. In the minute you were away, he noticed his heart beating faster than it should, and scolded himself.

Returning to the table, you eyed a plate of food that you hadn’t noticed before. “What’s all this?” you asked.

“Uh, sorry, it’s just leftovers, but I figured you might want something warm.”

You looked at him tenderly, voice soft, “Oh, Joel. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Taking a seat, you noticed that he sure was of course-ing all over the place tonight. You stared down at the reheated chicken and rice, wondering if he was uncomfortable.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the way he leaned in before asking, “You alright?”

You smiled a little, “Yeah, I just feel kinda bad for making you take me in.”

“You’re not makin’ me do anything.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his. God his eyes were gorgeous, just his stare was enough to charm you.

“Any plans for the rest of the weekend?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Well if you’re not busy studying, I’m sure Sarah would would love to have you around. I’ll be here too, but I’ll still pay you.”

“You paying me just to hang around now?” you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning.

He chuckled, shaking his head. You finished your plate while you two talked about Sarah, her new friends, her plight with fractions. This felt more familiar, more comfortable.

He frowned, “Lately when I’ve been dropping her off at school, some boy is always there waitin’ to say hi.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that Joel. They’re like 12.”

“I know, it just gets me thinking about what it’ll be like when she’s in high school.”

“Cross that bridge when you get there.”

He sighed. “I just wish I knew what to expect.”

In that moment, you realized that this might be his roundabout way of opening up to you. You could only imagine how difficult it must be to navigate single fatherhood, especially having a daughter.

He cleared his throat. “I know this is none of my business, and you’re right, I don’t need to be worrying about it yet, but… do you have any boy advice for me?”

You laughed, maybe a little too loud, “You’re asking the wrong person, Joel. I’m not super experienced in that field.”

A playful glint appeared in his eyes that you’d never seen before. “What? Come on now, you’re too pretty to not have at least 10 boyfriends.”

You caught that, but shook your head.

“You tellin’ me you weren’t prom queen?”

“I was too dorky for that,” you waved him off.

“Well,” he leaned back in his chair, and your eyes skimmed over his broad shoulders, “here’s my boy advice for you.”

“I’m listening,” you grinned.

“Don’t hang around boys.”

“Gotcha,” you nodded, “so you’re saying I should go after men.”

He caught that, but dodged the implication. “Well, I’m sayin’ most of these college guys are still boys in here,” he tapped on his forehead.

“You’re telling me.”

He grabbed your now empty plate, and announced while placing it in the sink, “The room’s all yours when you’re ready.”

You looked at him with confusion across your face.

He motioned toward the hall, in the direction of his bedroom.

It finally dawned on you, he meant he’s going to sleep on the couch. Immediately you protested, “Joel. Come on. I’m not taking your room, the couch is fine-“

“No, no, no. This is not up for debate,” he pointed at you, “You need a good night’s rest.”

“Joel I’ll sleep fine on the cou-“

“I’m not fightin’ you on this.”

You stared at each other for a moment, a stand off you knew you’d lose. You finally cracked under his unrelenting gaze, but had to make one last effort, “You’ve done more than enough for me tonight.”

“I’d do damn near anything for you,” he couldn’t stop himself from confessing, but he almost didn’t care if it meant you’d take his bed. He’d never admit it, not even to himself, but he wanted you there, and not just because it was courteous to offer. To know that you were wrapped in his sheets, head cradled by his pillow, your breath filling his space.

You let out a sigh, “Fine.”

“Good. Thought I’d have to drag you.”

You chuckled, and in your mind flashed an image of him picking you up and tossing you onto the bed, oh God he’s so strong he could do that so easily-

You banished the thought, pulling yourself back to reality, but another idea invaded your mind. “Thank you so much Joel. I really owe you for this.”

“You don’t owe me nothin’. I’m glad you know that I’m here for you.”

If this whole situation hadn’t already overstepped a boundary, this certainly would, but you really couldn’t help yourself. You took a step forward, pulling him into a hug. Every nerve in his skin suddenly became hypersensitive to the feeling of your hands on his torso, moving to his back. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, then froze. You smelled like him. You, in his clothes. You, with his scent. You, in his arms. He could only hope that his heart wasn’t beating too loud.

You pulled away from each other, hands lingering a second longer than necessary.

“Sleep tight, darlin’.”

“You too.”

“And sleep in as long as like.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me know if you want an extra blanket or anything-“

“Goodnight Joel,” you laughed, walking away from him finally.

When you closed yourself into his room, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

You both laid awake for a while, having the same doubts, ruminating on words, body language, tone, meanings that may or may not have indicated something else.

You tried to be objective. He’s naturally generous, kind hearted beneath a bit of a rough exterior. He was instinctually nurturing, look how devoted he is to his daughter. Besides, with her to look out for, he wouldn’t want some silly college girl. He takes his responsibilities as a father very seriously and as far as you knew, he avoided things and people that would disrupt her life.

You’re a sweet girl, he reasoned that you hugged him because that was your nature and nothing else. One night at his place didn’t mean anything beyond what it was: you called and he answered. He knew nothing would come of it, ridiculous to think anything would, really. Young, promising college students like you don’t go involving themselves with middle aged men with children, not unless the man was rich, which he definitely wasn’t.

These thoughts kept you both awake, so finally you each relented to the more hopeful side, even if it was just a fantasy to doze off to.

Cheek pressed against Joel’s pillow, surrounded by his scent, you sleepily indulged in the thought that he treated you special because he felt a special way for you. Maybe he’s even protective of you.

Hand tucked under a cushion, he entertained the idea of you knowing that you want a man who wouldn’t waste your time. Someone who has some real experience in the world and knows what they want.

He was starting to think that insisting you spend the night was the worst idea he’s ever had.

Chapter 2 Masterlist

#joel miller #tlou #pedro pascal #joel x reader #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #tlou hbo #joel the last of us

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m-y-fandoms · 2 years ago

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(NEW!) Super Danganronpa 2 boys reaction to: their S/O thinking they were going to hurt them - COMMISSION

You feral beasts have been asking for this for like two years LMAO. Someone finally commissioned me to do it so let's get it!

V3 boys version link

The reader's pronouns are never mentioned, so anyone can read this with themselves in mind!

Word Count: 13k words!! 4.8k of those words are Nagito's section alone, as the commissioner requested for Nagito's to be longer than the rest (Please show this some love my hands hurt)

Trope/Scenario: A couple is in an argument or stressful situation. One partner moves suddenly, maybe to ruffle their hair or wipe sweat from their face, maybe grab something or gesture as they yell, but their S/O cowers/flinches at the sudden movement, and braces themselves or cries out, thinking their partner was about to hit/hurt them. Then, the angst ends in fluff with the other partner expressing that they would never hurt their beloved. I will make variations to this base concept to spice up the piece and fit the characters because we DON'T do O.O.C. here!

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR ALL OF SDR2/SDR2 CONTEXT NEEDED TO UNDERSTAND SOME SECTIONS - additionally, SFW sexual content-wise, but mature themes are explored like explicit language, possessiveness, abuse, and unhealthy relationships. Remember, the games themselves are rated M.

Nagito Komaeda

It all happened so fast. You’d begged them not to do it. It didn’t need to go down that way. This never would’ve happened if they’d just listened to you.

It all happened so fast. One second your friends, your best and only friends, were piling onto your boyfriend, pinning him to the ground of the hotel lobby and the next, the world became an explosion of fiery red. A loud blast rang in your ears like a flash bomb or a gunshot fired off right beside your head without protective equipment. Kazuichi went flying, the back of Akane’s clothes were aflame. Fuyuhiko took on an expression you’d never thought you’d see from the resident tough guy of the group: eyes wide in genuine terror, mouth agape as he dove forward and away from the blast.

You begged them not to do this. Don’t corner him. Don’t force his hand. You knew him better than anyone else. And they didn’t listen to you.

You’d all grouped up before hand (minus Nagito of course) to discuss what to do about him. He was getting more and more unhinged as the days went on. Before the funhouse, everyone except for you saw him as a bit crazy, a nuisance, a freak but safe at a distance. Now… he was clearly a danger to himself and others. He knew something you all didn’t, and it was sending him into the self righteous hope power trip of the century. Something was so very different from the Nagito you knew and loved.

You’d warned them that it wouldn’t be like last time. He wouldn’t submissively let them tie him up in the old building and wait to be fed or released by Monomi. He was on the warpath now. You knew him. Once he got an idea in his head, that was it.

Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi had dismissed you immediately. You loved him. You’d do anything to protect that freak. They weren’t gonna heed your warning, because at the end of the day, you cared about him just a little more than you cared about the rest of them. Hajime and Sonia, even Chiaki - the more compassionate members of the group - had looked at you with pity in their eyes. They knew the last thing you wanted was to see your boyfriend tied up or hurt, and they felt for you, but at this point, the main focus had to be figuring out who put them on this island so they could escape, and preventing more death. Nagito was getting in the way of that. He needed to be restrained.

You never thought it would be like this, though. You knew he’d retaliate this time, that he’d resist, but maybe in the form of a struggle with his attacker: a punch, a kick, running away, hiding… not a fucking bomb.

As the explosion rang out from behind you, sending you leaping forward defensively, the world seemed to move in slow motion.

How could he do this? It’s one thing to fight off those who are actively trying to subdue you, but to blow up the entire hotel? He was really willing to hurt or even kill everyone too close to the blast, even those with little to nothing to do with the plan? What about you, who he claimed to love, who was his shining hope, who had been the only one in his corner at all times? He was willing to just blow you away as well?

Time sped up again, and you sat with your legs crossed in the rubble, ash and sweat smearing your skin. You just sat there, breaths hitching in your throat as you held back tears that threatened to fall. It felt like you were in a trance as you sat and thought this all over. Nevermind the flames at your back or smoke in the air. Why, why, why???

It wasn’t the little bit of blood running down your arm or the ringing in your ears that broke through your haze, but the clap of a hand on your shoulder blade. You turned and looked up at Hajime, dust in his hair and a cut on his cheek. The white uniform shirt he always wore was stained up and torn in one area.

“Hey, (Y-Y/N)!” He coughed, soot in his throat. “Are you alright? Come on, we gotta get out of here! Smoke’s not-” a beam collapsed behind him, startling him as he hooked his hands under your armpits and lifted you from your seated position. “Come on, this smoke’ll kill you!” You stood with his help, still halfway in a state of shock, and in truth embarrassment that the one you constantly defended from your group of peers had done all this…

“Is everyone…” you spoke weakly, your mind flashing to the safety of your friends.

“Everyone else is out. They’re safe, let’s go!” Hajime guided you out the way he came in looking for you, past a flipped couch and under a fallen beam. Once out in the fresh air, you regrouped with the rest, all in various states of shaken up.

Sonia immediately rushed over to you, ripping the red bow tie from her neck and dabbing the cut on your arm with the fabric before wrapping it around the wound. You thanked her with a nod. Akane, usually a bit scantily-clad anyway, had most of her remaining clothes singed off or torn. She looked more defeated then you’d seen her since Nekomaru’s death. She’d probably bounce right back soon though, knowing her. Fuyuhiko looked more pissed than usual, sitting by the pool alone. Kazuichi was being tended to by Chiaki. You overheard her saying Monomi would be bringing medical supplies and helping transport those seriously injured to the hospital for a quick check up. The students protested, however, wanting to stick together in the resort and heal up in their cabins. Your eyes bounced around the group, looking for someone in particular, though you didn’t know why.

Why? Were you truly that delusional? You must’ve been under some type of love hex. Had you Stockholm Syndrome’d yourself into being blind to his every fault? You couldn’t help it - you couldn’t deny the feelings you retained.

“Where’s…?” Your words faded off, thinking better of it. Maybe this was the wrong time. They probably didn’t want to hear about the dude who just tried to send them on a one way trip to heaven. It was too late, your words had been picked up by Fuyuhiko’s relatively undamaged ears.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffed, yelling over from the pool. “He ran off as soon as he got the chance. Didn’t waste a second to make sure you were okay. You’re still worried about that asshole? He just tried to fucking kill us! You must be as crazy as him. I’m starting to think so, at this point…”

“Fuyuhiko…” Sonia warned, a small frown creasing her porcelain face. Fuyuhiko sighed deeply, backing off the attack. He didn’t mean that last bit, he was just frustrated. He threw in the towel, too tired to continue putting up a fight. The old Fuyuhiko would've laid into you a little longer. True to his word, he was a changed man. He shook his head and went silent, disappointed in you to say the least.

You were a bit disappointed in yourself as well, frankly. Why did you still want to see him so badly, to make sure he wasn’t hurt, to make sure he knew you still cared? You didn’t know what you’d even do if you saw him again. The mix of fear, confusion and foolish adoration was potent within you right now.

After assessing everyone’s needs and injuries, it was decided that you all were to go to your cabins and rest for the night. Tomorrow, you would go as a group to the new island unguarded by its Monobeast and resume the search for the truth and freedom.

“Everyone just… yell as loud as you can, or run out of your cabin and alert the others if… if anything happens,” He looked you in the eyes as he spoke those last few words. Hajime chose the phrasing carefully but you all knew what he meant:

If Nagito came around looking to further this deranged and deadly plan of his.

They said as he ran off he was blabbering on, yelling about the “end of Jabberwock Island” and such. It was pretty clear to the entire group that whatever he had in mind would mean chaos and peril for everyone still left alive.

Now back in your cabin, the sun had long since set as you continued to pace back and forth across the floor, from the full length mirror on your sliding closet door, to the entrance, then over to the small bathroom area and back again. You’d not even taken the time to shower and change your clothes. You were still a mess, your thoughts too busy to care about the blood and grime coating you.

Your mind raced, taking in everything that had happened so far in this nightmare of a class trip, taking in everything that could happen fairly soon.

Your mind bounced to Nagito, purposely being coy when you all needed his mind desperately during trials.

To Nagito, who actively tried to hurt someone in the very first trial, who offered to help a blackened if they ever needed him.

To Nagito, who held you close at nights and who you could open up to for hours. The same Nagito who you’d fallen for, body and mind, and who now was an object of fear and anxiety for you.

Were you really scared of him now…? Your Nagito?

A quiet knock at your door shook you out of your pacing routine. You figured it was Hajime, arranging another group meeting or maybe sweet Sonia coming to check up on you. Rushing to the door, you opened it just a crack and peeked out.

Your blood ran cold, a shiver shot down your spine. You’d never reacted to seeing him like this before. Not even close.

“Hello there, (Y/N). Oh wow, you look awful…” Nagito smiled gently at first, then the corners of his mouth slightly drooped, downturned at the state of you. You looked yourself up and down once quickly, now acknowledging that you had in fact forgotten to wash up, overwhelmed by the day. A moment passed with your heart beat picking up quickly, and you began to merely stare at him silently through the crack, unsure of how to proceed. Should you scream? Should you warn the others? Even if Nagito wouldn’t hurt you, what if he made his rounds to the other cabins and hurt the others? He wouldn’t hurt you, right? That assumption of yours was correct, right? You weren’t so sure anymore. “Well, are you gonna just stand there or are you gonna let me in?” He smiled innocently again before pushing his way past you and into the expanse of your personalized cabin. Your safe space.

“Nagito…” You let yourself exhale the breath you’d been holding in, turning to close the cabin door behind him. You hesitated on the door knob, contemplating making a break for it right then and there. “What are you doing here?” You tried to keep your voice steady and even, even as your chest thumped.

“What?” His brow furrowed, rounding on you as you closed shut the door and turned to face him. “What do you mean? I always hang out with you here!” Was he just not going to acknowledge today, when you literally could’ve died due to his actions? “I kinda missed it, you know, the smell of your cabin, your smell. Being in the funhouse all those days was such a bummer.” Approaching you in two strides of his long slender legs, he took you tightly into his arms, nevermind the dirt and ash that transferred from your clothes to his.

“N-Nagi-” your words were muffled into the fabric of his green jacket, and for a moment your spine stiffened, not sure how to receive the hug. You corrected yourself though, and relaxed, embracing him back. Nagito was volatile right now, extremely unstable, and you didn’t want to be perceived as disloyal, untrusting. Nothing to trigger him. He was clingy and needy with you quite often and that part you didn’t mind. You cared for him the way he was… but who he was had slowly been changing. Ever since he entered that damned Final Dead Room.

Nagito didn’t miss a thing, however, and you knew that. Your hesitation to hug him back made a blip on his radar.

“Is everything alright? How is my little ray of hope tonight?” He pulled back a bit, holding you at arm’s length to observe your features closely. This was so uncomfortable: the scrutinizing gaze, the sorry state of your body at that very moment, the sweat that began to bead on your forehead.

“Well, Nagito, you…” you wanted to soften the blow, and so took the initiative to this time hug him first, leaning your head onto his chest. This is what he wanted, right? Play along, don’t slip up. It’s funny, when your head rested flat against him and you inhaled his familiar scent, you felt that warm feeling that made you fall for him for just a second, until you began to finish your thought. “... today… earlier today… why did you do that? I mean… how could you, to me of all people? What if… I mean what if that explosion killed me?” Your heart beat sped up.

“Oh, silly, it wouldn’t have!” He replied as if the answer were obvious. “You’re my shining hope, my everything, and that bomb was only intended to disrupt the plans of those who were there to trap me! I was one step ahead my love. You were never in any true danger.” Ironic, as he ran a hand up and down the arm with the deep cut on it.

“Well, how would you know for sure? What if I were standing where Kazuichi was? He got the brunt of it…” you asked, but you knew whatever answer he had for you wouldn’t calm your aching heart.

“I relied on my luck, of course! It’s all I have to rely on now: you, and this useless ‘talent’ of mine.” His tone was bittersweet. His luck? He really left your safety up to his luck? Sure, you’d never seen it fail him before, but seriously…

“About that… Nagito,” you pulled away, expectantly unsatisfied with his reply and no less terrified of the inner workings of the man in front of you, “what’s made you feel this way, all of a sudden? Sure, our classmates were a little wary of you, but we were friends, all of us. You had them, too. What changed? In the funhouse you - well ever since the Final Dead Room, you’ve changed. In the trial, you said you’d learned about Hajime and how he doesn’t have an ultimate talent, and the secret behind the funhouse’s design… but there’s more you aren’t telling us… I can feel it.” Walking over to a chair beside your bed, you sat down, wrapping your arms around your middle defensively. You felt small and vulnerable under his gaze, which followed you like a hawk.

He didn’t like hearing that - that he’d changed - not from you. You were the only one exempt from his plans, even if you didn’t know it at the time. He loved you and you loved him, and he didn’t want anything to change about that. This couldn’t be just another thing that his miserable life ruined for him. For now, he ignored it, deciding that maybe letting you, the only one he could truly trust, in on his little plan would ease your mind and bring you back to him whole.

“You’re right as usual, my love.” He stood in the center of the room, gesturing as he began to get off of his chest all that he’d gleaned from his time in the funhouse. “How perceptive of you. My little hope is so incredibly smart. It’s one of the reasons I know you’ll guide this useless pack of idiots, including myself, to the highest potential our negligible little lives could ever reach!” How could you have guessed at that time that he meant when he and all the rest he deemed unfit were long gone, wiped from this world by his own will? “I’ll let you in on it, if my little bird promises not to chirp to the rest of the flock, of course…” He grinned at you as if he were a mischievous little kid about to announce a school prank and not a man dead set on getting his classmates killed. You nodded instinctively, not prepared at all for what you were about to hear. “Well it’s quite simple, really. We’ve known about the existence of a traitor for awhile now, right? We thought this entire time that the one of us who was not like the others was to blame for this entire thing, that the despair that ensnared us and caused death after death was caused by this ‘traitor’, right?” You nodded again, wanting desperately to appease him in any way you could. “Well, we couldn’t have had it more wrong, and as my reward for winning the ultimate roulette in the Final Dead Room, I was allowed this knowledge to share - or not share - as I please.” He was smirking now and your heartbeat began to pick up once again. You did not like that look in his eye. The pale planes of his cheeks began to get rosy with that self-satisifed expression he often donned when he knew his plans for hope were on track.

“W-what do you mean, Nagito?” Your voice shook and you sat up in your chair, shifting uncomfortably in place, a motion he noticed immediately. Again, he didn’t appreciate that reaction from you one bit. Why were you so uneasy around him tonight? His mind couldn’t comprehend it.

“Turns out, this whole time,” he held his arms out to each side as if surrendering himself to the powers that be, “It was us! We were the wicked ones. We were the despair, the disgusting evil that clouded all hope.” He began to chuckle at the irony that only he understood in his words. “This ‘traitor’ is the only one who can stop us! They are meant to save the world from the plague of our very existence!” He began to chuckle, a devious and unstable sound emanating from his core.

“H-how could you mean - I mean… Nagito, how could we be evil? Why would you think that? We have been working together to stop Monokuma this whole time. It couldn’t be -”

“Does it really matter how? It’s the truth! I know it is!” He cut you off, startling you as he approached and sank to his knees in front of your chair. Leaning in, he took your hand in his clammy, translucent one. He kissed the tops of your knuckles sweetly - a gesture he often did when you were alone together - and you went rigid, unsettled by his manic words. Another reaction he frowned at. “I mean, you believe me, don’t you? Have I ever been wrong before? Every time I tell you who the blackened is, I’m right! Every mystery I’ve uncovered on this island, every deduction I’ve shared with you and only you, has been correct! Every time I’ve been ‘wrong’ to them, I’ve chosen to play dumb. I’ve never lied to you, I wouldn’t!” He looked frantic, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. When you didn’t reply, he continued. “The traitor, they are the one, true hope for our vile and corrupted lot!” He smiled, again, as if this were the obvious conclusion one should draw from his words, but you just couldn’t see your friends as the monsters he portrayed them as. You couldn’t even see him that way. It just didn’t make sense. Maybe whatever he read in the Final Dead Room was just more lies, planted by Monokuma as a motive to sow more division. Nagito was too smart to fall for that…

“So, what is the solution, then… your plan?” You were almost too afraid to ask, having a good idea of what it would be. His frenzied grin softened into a straight and very serious line. You felt your stomach twist itself into knots.

“Well… we have to go, of course. All of us, except for the traitor.” He stated plainly. Eyes widening just a tick before going neutral again, you tried not to convey the abject fear in your heart. “We all have to die, it’s the only way. The traitor will go on, as the only ray of hope we have left.” With that, you yanked your hand from his grip, and his eye twitched in response.

He was willing to kill you all? All of your peers, your innocent peers who had been through so much already, together… snuff them out just like that?

“Nagito… you know who the traitor is, then…?” His head tilted at that, like a curious puppy confused at his owner’s words. “The one you’re going to spare, you know who it is?” Did it even matter anymore? At this point, the Nagito you loved was long gone. You needed to warn the others. His answer mattered to you personally, nonetheless. Your brow furrowed, your psyche overstimualted by this entire conversation. You pressed him. “Nagito… you know who the traitor is, right?” A little sterner this time, you waited for an answer that would never come. Almost as if he were too prideful, or maybe too ashamed to admit he would have to rely on his luck yet again to meet his goals, he ignored your question.

Chills running throughout your body, you quickly shot up out of the chair. Standing abruptly and causing the slender man to stumble back a bit, you steadied your shaking hands by balling them into fist at your side.

“(Y/N) -” Nagito began as he stood to meet you. Why were you acting like this? Didn’t you have the same goals as him? Didn’t you see the necessity of this plan? Didn’t you love him as much as he loved you? Didn’t you know that know that you - his unbreakable hope - the only pure thing on this miserable island, had to be the traitor? How could it be anyone else? He couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, as the file in the Final Dead Room didn’t name you specifically, but it just had to be you. It had to be. He would delude himself until his last breath.

“O-okay, Nagito, I agree! Yes, y-you’re right of course!” Play along, (Y/N), play along, your survival instincts screamed at you internally. Now it was Nagito’s heart that began to beat fast. He could sense a lie a mile away, and you knew that. Was he truly losing you? “Tell you what, let me shower, I can’t stand this filth on me for one more second.” You forced a nervous chuckle. “After that, I’ll meet you somewhere, um… away from the cabins so the others don’t find out, and we can discuss this further.” In reality, you were hoping that as you showered, he would leave to find a meeting place so that you could run to the other cabins and warn the others. He took a step toward you, and you took a step back in turn. He cringed at that, a hand reaching out weakly for your touch. It fell to his side when you backed away until your back was at the bathroom door and you reached behind you for the handle. “Okay? You go scope out a safe place for us to meet!” You looked for confirmation, fake smile still plastered across your face until your jaw hurt from clenching so hard.

“Okay, (Y/N)...” his heart broke at your willingness to lie straight to his face. You’d never done that before. You would always be honest with him, even with the silliest thoughts. You nodded in reassurance, slipping into the mini bathroom afforded to you by Monokuma and closing the door. It was a modest thing, a small alcove in each cabin with merely a shower stall, sink with a mirror, and toilet all snug into one tiny area. You undressed like the wind, ready to take the quickest shower of your life. Just a rinse for the blood and dirt, running the water long enough to be convincing and you were out. You needed time to run to at least a few of your classmates' cabins before Nagito got back. Whoever you got to first could spread the word. You slid the glass shower stall door open and jumped inside, not even waiting for the water to warm up.

Soaking yourself promptly, you began to scrub off the day you’d had with a small wash cloth nearby. Mere minutes into your shower, you heard the small bathroom door slam open. Freezing instantly, you halted all motion and stared at the figure in the doorway that was a blurry mess of greens, creams and whites through the frosted glass of the shower door. Without a word, the figure approached the shower door and you felt your body go into fight or flight mode, adrenaline kicking into high gear.

This was it… you thought. You were sure that if you were the traitor, you would’ve known. The traitor was still out there, hiding their identity, and now Nagito was going to do exactly what he said he was going to do. You had to go… hope for the world was the end goal that superseded romantic feelings. Your life flashed before your eyes, and you thought of your friends, and how you failed to save them.

Nagito threw open the sliding door, and you fell back against the beige tile behind you, hands flying up to protect your head and face. You didn’t know how he would kill you, but braced for an expected blow. Exposed, defenseless and naked, vital organs unprotected, you began to sob.

“No! Nagito, please!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as he entered the shower stall in a panic, clothes and all. He clapped one cold hand over your mouth, a hand that was shaking. Instantly, tears sprang forth from his own eyes. Were you really that scared of him?

“No, don’t scream, please! Please, (Y/N)!” He released your mouth, throwing his arms around your shoulders in a crushing embrace. The shower head continued to spray down, soaking him now along with you as he clung to you like his life depended on it under its stream. His wild, long locks clung to his neck and forehead and his wet jacket weighed him down. You both stood weeping onto each other freely, Nagito from a broken heart, and you from shock. You were too terrified to move, to care that you were completely nude. He didn’t seem to care either, crushing you in his grip. He was a lot stronger than he looked.

“Nagito… Nagito please…” you pleaded, still not entirely sure these weren’t your last moments.

“I can’t bear to see you terrified of me. You’re… you’re the only one…” He could barely speak through his choked out sobs. He shook his head vehemently, needy for your touch. His hands roamed up and down your back desperately. He needed to feel you there, to know you were real.

“What…?” You didn’t understand.

“You’re the only one,” he sniffled, “who shouldn’t be afraid of me! You’re my shining hope. You’re my light in this darkness!” Tears wracked his body. “Why would a complete and utter nobody like me, talentless trash undeserving of your love ever try to hurt you? I wouldn’t even dream of it. (Y/N), please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear it!” His finger nails dug into your spine. He was conflicted, and couldn’t fight the swell of anger that contended with the sadness in his chest. It felt like you didn’t know him at all to think he would hurt you. You weren’t the despair he sought to end. You had nothing to fear.

“But, y-you said- !” You began and he interrupted, unable to hear any more doubts of his loyalty to you.

“I know you’re the traitor. I just know it! You’re too good, too perfect to not be…” You’d never heard him so unconfident in his own reasoning before.

“You can’t possibly know that, Nagito!” You spat back, limp in his arms.

“I do know it. I know it. I’ll bet my luck on it. I want it so badly, my luck has to come through. It’s you, it has to be! I could never kill you. I could never get you killed. The others are the despair, you’re the solution. I know it’s you. I’m gonna make it all right… just watch!” He stepped back, taking your puffy face in his hands, staring directly into your eyes. “You’ll make it out of here! You’ll survive the last trial and go on without me, my love. I know it’s you!” He was deceiving himself once again, daring to want something so badly, so selfishly.

He would never live to see just how wrong he was.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

You, your boyfriend Fuyuhiko, and your best friend Peko went way back. As a kid growing up on Fuyuhiko’s side of town, everyone knew to avoid Kuzuryu property. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately looking back at it, you were a pretty reckless as a kid, even if you weren’t now. You used to to slip through fences and past security cameras all the time to play with the blonde fuzzy-haired kid and the girl with the cool sword. Your parents scolded you when you came home, not knowing where you really were, but you always found your way back. The boy, who always had a temper, and the girl, who was the calm to his storm, repeatedly called you names, told you to never come back or his family would kill you, then played with you all day anyway. You had no idea what his family truly was, what the word yakuza really entailed, only that everyone said that part of town was dangerous. You didn’t see it that way, not when you played cops and robbers or samurai and peasant with your two best friends nearly every day. The boy, Fuyuhiko as you’d come to learn, would always rush you off the property if his father was coming home or when less friendly clan members came around, and you didn’t learn until years later why.

By that time it was too late for you to be scared of his yakuza status or Peko’s true strength now revealed to you. You were besties, and nothing was ever going to change that. Through middle school, you formed quite the crush on the petite bad boy, and although he still had a nasty temper and could be quite aloof at times, you wanted him all the same. A lifelong friendship bloomed into a romantic relationship - with hesitance on his part - and before you knew it, you were set to attend Hope’s Peak together. You kept your relationship secret from everyone save for Peko. Fuyuhiko insisted on this, for your own safety.

Now here you were, on this mysterious tropical island with all of your memories of Hope’s Peak wiped clean. You found that in general, many memories of your past were wiped clean, save for those few precious and essential ones. You remembered growing up with Fuyuhiko, your relationship with him, and Peko who you loved like a sister. Everyone else were strangers, strangers who seemingly also couldn’t remember how they got there or how you were all connected. You were all freshmen it seemed, and that was were it stopped.

Almost immediately after Monokuma’s appearance and monologue, Fuyuhiko had pushed both you and Peko away. He demanded you both pretend like you didn’t know him, treat him like everyone else and if need be, you’d meet in secret and away from prying eyes. This was to be a killing game with rules and trials, and no one else here seemed to know each other from their past. If the others found out you three were connected, you would no doubt all be dragged down if one of you got caught up in something nasty. Allies, a package deal and all that. He didn’t want your connection to him to put you or Peko in danger. He knew you’d both die for him, and he for you, and he wouldn’t let any of these idiots use that weakness against you.

The cat was long since out of the bag. Peko was gone and you’d helped Mikan nurse Fuyuhiko in and out of the hospital after his near-fatal wounds from trying to save the swordswoman from her from execution. Everyone knew of your relationship now, which meant no more sneaking around behind everyone’s back, but Peko’s life wasn’t the price you ever wanted to pay for that freedom. Along with Peko’s passing additionally came a visible change in your boyfriend’s soul. Though he still had that fiery temper, he controlled it with great effort now. He tried harder with people, forgave easier, loved better, appreciated more. The days of reflection in the hospital stirred something in him.

Weeks passed, and it was one tragedy after another. From the group giving you hell about keeping secrets, to tending to Fuyuhiko’s extensive wounds, to now finding Ibuki hanging from a rope and Hiyoko posted up against a pillar with her throat slit, your group couldn’t seem to catch a break.

Though Mikan and yourself begged him to get some rest - as his wound had already reopened once - Fuyuhiko insisted on investigating in preparation for the trial with everyone else. He was as strong-willed as ever. You searched the hospital with him for clues or evidence the blackened may have sloppily left behind. He was on edge, and you couldn’t blame him. Everyone was, these were the fifth and sixth classmates dead in the blink of an eye, and the killer was still on the loose. Your skin crawled and you were extra jumpy today. Every corpse you had to look upon took a little more of your innocence and vitality from you, and this maniac had already killed twice. What was to stop them from killing again?

Fuyuhiko insisted that he wasn’t scared of the blackened, quite the opposite. It was his rage aimed at them that would fuel his strength to move on and identify them. You knew him well, and knew when to back off when he was in a mood. Everything seemed to annoy him at the moment. It was hard to search with him and cooperate when he got pissed off everytime you fussed over his healing injuries. He kept swatting you away then apologizing for being irate and short-tempered. He just wanted you to stop babying him.

Just now bending over to search near a hospital bed, Fuyuhiko shot upright, jumping at a sudden sound that startled him.

“What the fuck-?!” He turned to the source of the loud crash behind him. You were splayed out across the floor behind him, a deep gash on your cheek spilling blood down your face as you sat up. “What the hell did you do?!”

“I just tripped! I’m fine!” You gestured with one hand to a small table you’d toppled over, holding your bloody cheek with the other. The contents on said table, various sharp little medical instruments and tools, were strew about and on top of your body. Fuyujiko glared at the hard counter top of the cabinet you’d hit your cheek off of on the way down. Now you knew how Mikan felt, always making a mess of her clumsy self.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot! Why don’t you watch where you’re going?! We’ve got enough shit to deal with right now!” He kneeled down to your level and started rapidly picking up the various scalpels and knives around you.

“I’m sorry, ‘Hiko…” the shame was setting in. He was already ornery today and you’d somehow made it even worse. He leaned over your body, reaching for more of the small instruments.

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it! You-” hovering over you, he lifted one of the razor sharp tools above his head in a clenched, angry gesture. You turned your head, gasping slightly and flinching away from him. Your free hand came up to cover your face with your eyes shut tight in a grimace. Upon seeing you recoil, cowering away from him like that, he halted, the rest of his complaint dropping off into oblivion.

He didn’t want to be like that anymore, remember? He reminded himself of his temper, of his talks with Hajime in the hospital, of Peko’s memory urging him to do better, of his display of humility to Hiyoko in the hotel restaurant.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, putting the instrument aside and gently pulling you to your feet alongside him.

“Come on, sit down. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He pushed you gently down to sit on the hospital bed and reached for some simple disinfectant, a cloth to put it on, and a large bandage. He began to pat the blood away. “We’ll have Mikan look at this later to see if it needs stitches, but this is the best I can do for now.” He noticed you avoiding his eye contact and his heart sank. “Hey…” He held your chin, titing your head to look up and meet his gaze. “I’m really sorry, okay. I would never lay a hand on you. That is a fact. Please… know this for certain.”

“I know, I just… I don’t know… I’m sorry I reacted that way.” His apology helped, but you still felt a little foolish.

“No, it’s me who should be sorry. There’s no need to get that angry, especially at you, especially for an accident.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. He had a long way to go. “Please slow down. Be more careful and worry about yourself as much as you worry about me. I can’t lose you, too.”

Hajime Hinata

You’d closed yourself up in your cabin for good, with no plans to go out in the foreseeable future. Every few minutes you checked the locks, on both the doors and the windows, biting your nails down to nearly bleeding. In addition to shutting yourself in, you’d shut the world, the island, and all your classmates out. You were a nervous wreck.

Mere hours ago, Nagito had blown the hotel lobby and everyone in it sky high. He’d finally lost what little marbles he had left. Nobody knew fully why, but he’d snapped too far beyond repair. Both you and poor Kazuichi were very near to the blast zone, and even now you felt a dizziness and slight loss of hearing. You were sure that over in his cabin, Kazuichi was feeling the same way. You wanted to pass out, to scream, to topple over in exhaustion but refused to let yourself leave your post. As much as you were tired and dizzy, you were equally as terrified. What if that maniac Nagito showed up again to finish the job? Though the vertigo threatened to take you down for the count, you were determined to stay vigilant. Your mind grew more and more dull and hazy by the second, though.

Hajime and the others wanted to go to the new island in the morning, and as far as you were concerned, they could search until their hearts were content. You’d given up. You’d been broken. You’d been beaten by Monokuma and this killing game. Why go to a new island? Every time you guys went to a new island to explore, someone died. Everyone was dying. There was a psychopath hell-bent on blowing you up - or worse - on the loose. You were content to stay in your cottage and rot away. Paranoid and eroded away from trial after trial, you’d refused to let anyone in, even your sweet boyfriend, Hajime, who’d already tried to come check on you several times that night. Even as the rain poured down from the night sky and lightning cracked consistently, he kept coming back. He was extremely concerned about you, but you just couldn’t do it anymore. You didn’t trust anyone anymore. You couldn’t.

You trusted Teruteru, and Peko, and Mikan, and Gundham, and Nagito… it was all too much. Who would betray you next? Who would stab you in the back when you least expected it for a chance at freedom as a blackened who got away with it? It could be literally anyone. Sonia had a country to get back to, an entire country waiting for her. Fuyuhiko had an empire. They all had a reason to live and you’d be an easy target in this state of barely conscious, injured and mentally broken.

You’d almost fallen asleep when a knock came at your door, again…

You almost chose to ignore it, but figured getting your body moving would keep you awake, so you forced your feet over to the door.

“Hajime…?” You assumed, your voice weak.

“Man…” he sighed loudly, muffled by the rain and the barrier of the door, “(Y/N)... you sound terrible. I really do think you have a concussion. Please let me in. I’m worried sick.”

“Please go away, Hajime. I’m sorry… I’ll be fine. I just -”

“I know you’re scared. You know you can trust me.” There was that word again… Moments passed in silent contemplation. “... I’m gonna keep coming back until you let me in. I’m soaked… please…” he whined, jiggling the door handle on his side. Now it was your turn to sigh. You rested your head against the door, senses dimming fast. He was probably right, you most likely did have a concussion. Your head ached, your vision was a bit blurry, the light of your cabin bothered your eyes. “You can’t just stay in there forever, you need medical atten-” The door swung open before him, and you hurriedly signaled for him to come in, swiftly locking the door behind him.

“No sudden movements. I’m a bit confused right now… everything’s a bit slow…” Your words slurred out but he seemed to catch them all.

“Yeah, no shit. You were blown all the way across the hotel floor. Come here, let me check something.” He took your wrist and stood you in the center of the room in front of him. He pulled a small flashlight he won from the gacha machine from his pocket and flashed it into your eyes slowly. “Try to stand still.” You were trying to, but swayed and stumbled regardless. “See, you can’t even do that much. Look, since Mikan is gone, we gotta let Monomi help us out. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

“What?! No, no no…” your heart beat quickened, feeling that paranoid panic set in again. “I’m not leaving this room.” The confusion was hitting again as you stumbled backwards a step and your back met the side of your bed. Was this a set up? You already let him in, now he wanted to get you out in the open? “Something’s gonna happen! I won’t go!”

“(Y/N), I promise I’ll get you to the hospital safely and I’ll stay with you the whole time. I know you’re scared but you’re being irrational right now!”

A thunderous boom sounded outside as high above your cabin the lightning cracked. In an instant, all of the lights wavered and went out. You cried out into the pitch black. You couldn’t see even a foot in front of you. This was definitely a set up. It had stormed plenty of times on this island, and the lights never went out like this.

Hajime reached out for you in the dark, and you screamed even louder at his touch. This was it, the betrayal. It was inevitable on this hell of an island. No one could truly be trusted.

“(Y/N), stop! Stop yelling!” Hajime grabbed one of your wrists in the dark, and you sank to the floor, too dizzy to stand any longer. He heard the thud of your butt hitting the ground, though he couldn’t see it, and sunk to his knees beside you.

“Please… don’t hurt me, Hajime…” the words tumbled out of your mouth lazily. You wanted to pass out so badly.

“Hurt you?” He sounded incredulous, almost scoffing. Turning the screen brightness all the way up on his e-handbook, he set it on the ground beside you both for some type of light, as meager as it was, and sat the flashlight beside it. He grabbed your face in his hands, gently shaking you to alertness. He’d heard it wasn’t good to let someone with a concussion fall asleep. “I’d never hurt you.” He stated almost matter-of-factly. “You’re just going through a rough time right now... Don’t talk like that. You know I’d never hurt you. I care about you, a lot.” He adjusted your position so you were sitting up a little straighter.

It pained him to see you this way. This killing game was stealing your luster, your goodness, your spirit. He’d noticed that your smile - a smile he loved so very much - grew smaller and smaller with each trial. Now it’d come to this. You were frightened of even him…

“I’m so scared, Hajime…”

“I know. I know you are.” He spoke with compassion in his voice. “Will you let me help you? Please…?” He waited for your nod of confirmation before continuing. “Come on,” he scooped one arm under your legs and the other under behind your back and stood with you in his arms. “We’re gonna get you the help you need. I know it’s hard, but we are a team. You, me, Chiaki, Sonia, Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko, Akane, we need to do this together. I know it’s hard to trust after all that’s happened, but I’m gonna keep you safe, and we’re gonna survive this, together.”

Kazuichi Soda

Kazuichi sat in front of the busted funhouse elevator, ass nearly numb from sitting in that position for hours. He was squatting before, until his knees began to hurt as well. You sat behind him, handing him tool after tool when he needed it and offering encouragement and advice when you could. Still, he was being testy and very short with you and the two of you had gotten into it several times today already. Nothing big, just a few little spats. You had to keep reminding him that you were only trying to help, but nonetheless he was in a foul mood.

You knew he was truly mad at the situation, not you. His anger was misplaced but it still hurt. You’d all been locked up in the funhouse for days without food and with minimal sleep due to Monokuma’s interference and everyone was on each other’s last nerves. Now the elevator was broken, and the Ultimate Mechanic was expected to be the one to fix it. He’d been at it all day, and with each set back or miniscule perceived failure, he got more and more irritated.

You handed him a wrench you’d gotten from the hidden room beyond the Final Dead Room. All the tools he was currently using were from there as well. Oh yeah, that was another reason he was so pissed off. He’d never admit to it, but the fact that you were smart and brave enough to pass the Final Dead Room’s test unscathed and here he couldn't even fix this measly machine irked him like nothing else. He felt like the word useless might as well have been stamped onto his head. After he let out yet another frustrated groan, stretching out his sore wrist, you sighed and spoke up:

“Hey, Kaz’, it’s okay if you can’t get it done today. Let’s get some rest. We need to conserve energy.” He looked at you as if you’d just called him the biggest loser ever.

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re actually contributing to the group! You don’t have the burden of feeling like a failure on your mind!” He gritted his sharp teeth.

“You are contributing by even trying to fix it!” You retorted, not appreciating his tone or him starting an argument with you yet again today.

“Oh, don’t patronize me! You just don’t get it! Everyone likes you and you’re good at everything you try! I can’t even do what I was literally born to do correctly!” He spat.

“Oh, Kazuichi, give me a break! It is not that deep! Nobody even needs to use the elevator at this very moment!” You shifted your position right next to him, crossing your arms over your chest in a pouting display.

“If you’re not gonna help, then just go away!” He leaned forward toward you, raising the wrench in his hand in exasperation. You jolted backwards, leaning away from him with a fright.

…

Things got really awkward, very fast. The air went dead silent and all anger drained from his face. He lowered the wrench as a blank expression took over, followed by one of slight embarrassment. Did you really think he was gonna hit you with it? A moment passed, and you both looked away from each other, refusing to make eye contact.

“H-hey…” Kazuichi hesitated for a second, then made up his mind. Grabbing your shoulder, he seized you into his chest and held you tightly. His mind flashed back to his years in the family shop, to glimpses of his dad screaming whenever he angered him, even hitting him sometiimes for fucking up on a car. He might have even deserved it - he thought - but you didn’t. For sure, you didn't. He respected but feared his father, and he didn’t want to make anyone feel like that, especially not you. “I would never hit ya like that! Y-you gotta know that, right?!” His voice broke as he fought back tears. “I’m sorry for being an asshole today. This place just fuckin’ sucks you know? I can’t take it anymore!” You felt wetness soak through your shirt on your shoulder though you couldn’t see his face. You returned the hug, pulling him tighter into yourself. You two sat like that for a long while, resigned to give the elevator another try sometime later.

Nekomaru Nidai

You and Nekomaru were kinda… a thing? It was complicated because you were two very different people, but there was a little spark, a mutual crush that was known of and whispered about by the other students. It was weird, because you two flirted with each other, but nothing really ever happened because when he was around, you felt like a flustered mess, a puddle of mush. He was an intimidating, extroverted mountain of a man, and it was easy to become nervous in his presence. It’s like you were touch-starved, head over heels for your handsome classmate and yet the thought of him touching you turned you into an anxious idiot at the same time. You spent a quite lot of time together but there was rarely any touching other than a motivational clap on the back or the slap when you made a good joke, maybe even a very platonic-feeling bear hug as a greeting every once in a while.

In fact, you saw more chemistry between him and Akane, or even him and Hajime, two people he hung out with all the time. Heck, he touched Akane a lot more than he ever touched you. It made you feel a bit jealous, even. You felt silly even admitted this to yourself, as he wasn’t even your boyfriend and could do whatever he pleased, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

You wanted to be mature, to be honest and communicate your feelings with him once and for all because the pining, the unfulfilled feelings were driving you crazy but it had totally blown up in your face. Turns out your relationship with him was a lot more complicated than you originally thought. The talk ended up as a bit of an argument… well, it felt like you were arguing and stumbling over your feelings while he didn’t seem to be upset at all, which made you feel even more overwhelmed. You felt childish, unable to express yourself in a way that didn’t feel humiliating. He always seemed willing to talk something out, but at the same time didn’t really seem to understand how you felt in any other way than on a platonic level. He motivated, talked to, trained, and fixed people for a living, but maybe sports and romance were just too different for this conversation to click in his head. Or maybe… you were reading the signs all wrong. Maybe he didn’t like you back at all. Maybe you and your peers had misinterpreted his fondness for you as flirting, and you decided to accept that. You respectfully asked him to forget about everything you said, and apologized for the confusion and awkwardness, making your swift exit.

Sulking, dejected and needing some alone time, you walked along the lengthy bridge that connected Jabberwock Park to the island that housed the supermarket and resort. The sun was in the process of setting, leaving the island nearly dark with last last bits of daylight.

“(Y/N)!” You looked up from your navel-gazing to see a large figure bolting toward you at the speed of light. Nekomaru’s sudden appearance startled you even though you knew the guy to be loud and over the top. At that distance, you may not have been able to tell it was him in this little lighting if he weren’t yelling out your name. You’d recognize the voice from a mile away. As he finally approached, not the least bit out of breath, he began to speak immediately.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” He seemed a bit different, a bit less charged-up than his usual state. It was like a calm state of focus.

“Hey… Nekomaru.” You smiled weakly, still extremely nervous standing in his shadow. You had to tell yourself that you only felt this way because you liked him, and you had to let go of those feelings. “What’s up?” You twiddled your thumbs timidly, eluding the eye contact.

“I wanted to talk to you about earlier. When we chatted… well, I’ve been thinking about it all day. It’s been bothering me! So…” His brow furrowed. It wasn’t often he was speechless. “Uhhh..” he stalled in his deep rumble of a voice. He took a step closer to you, and you took one skittish step back. It felt weird having him in your personal bubble. It bred butterflies in your stomach. You began to shiver. It was partly because of the chill in the evening air, and partly because you dreaded confrontation like this. You feared he would make this more painful and awkward than it already was. Why couldn’t he leave it be? You weren’t his type, you accepted that! You took another self-conscious step back.

“We don’t really need to talk about it. I get how you feel, it’s fi-” a gasp passed through your lips as his massive hand suddenly flew down toward you. You flinched backward just a tad and felt your heel slip off the edge of the bridge. His hand found its desired destination around your waist and he pulled you in snugly to his wide, warm chest.

“W-why did you do that?” You looked up at him, your face pulsating with warmth just underneath the skin. He raised a brow apphrehensively at your reaction.

“You were shaking, so I figured you were cold. Plus, you were about to fall off the bridge. Two birds, one stone! Bet you’re warmin’ up now, huh?” He grinned down at you briefly before the wary expression took over again. “Hey, I know I’m a big dude an’ all, but you don’t need to be afraid of me or anything…” he mumbled and you could feel him speak from your position smashed against his chest. You looked down now, a bit ashamed that you made him feel that way. You didn’t know why he cared what you thought of him, but you could hear the slight hurt in his voice.

“I’m not scared of you, Nekomaru… quite the opposite…”

“Whaddaya mean?” What did he mean what do you mean??? Was he really that clueless? You literally had a whole conversation about this earlier today. Did the meaning of your words fly totally over his head… or were you just not clear enough?

“Nekomaru… I’m not scared I just…” you paused, debating just shutting up then and there, “I just get really nervous around you because… I really like you. Like as more than a friend…”

“You do?” Why did he sound genuinely surprised?

“I told you so earlier…”

“You did?!” He donned a puzzled look, and you looked up at him, incredulous. “No way!”

“I told you how I felt earlier, and you didn’t seem to feel the same so I let it go!”

“See, I told you it’s been bothering me, because I couldn’t for the life of me understand what you were so upset about earlier!” He threw his head back in one of his endearing, hearty laughs. What was that stereotype? Dumb jock?

“I mean, I tried to tell you, without being too forward or blunt. I was afraid you’d reject me…”

“Haha! Next time, why don’t you try to be more straightforward and honest with your feelings? It feels good!” He flexed the arm that held you close, giving you a good squeeze. You felt your cheeks warm up sheepishly.

“Like I said… you make me nervous…” you chuckled diffidently.

“Well, what do you say we try that talk again?” He began to resume the walk across the bridge, with you under his arm. “This time, we both be clear adn honest with each other?” His eyebrow wriggled rather mischeviously. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised with the results.”

Twogami / Ultimate Imposter

You’d spent nearly all of what little time you’d been on the island with Byakuya. You were starting to form a little crush on him, and he was rather fond of you as well (not that he’d ever openly admit it) so he allowed it. You of course knew about the Togami family’s power and influence, everyone did, so you found yourself a bit shy around him, but having fun at the same time getting to know him. You were a bit of of a people pleaser, both curious about him and eager to help if he needed it. There were times when you two simply hung out, like two normal people, and sometimes he even seemed to find you as fascinating as you found him. When he found himself asking one too many questions about you, however, he always seemed to reel it in, pulling back like he had some type of wall up.

You were fine with it. You’d just met a few days ago after all, and the friendship… or something more, would form when it formed. You didn’t want to force it. You were already feeling a bit silly and about wanting to connect with the Ultimate Affulent Progeny in the first place. Someone with his wealth and status could probably spend his time with anyone he wanted.

The threat of the start of a potential killing game was putting everyone on edge, even the scion himself, though he carried it better than most. He genuinely looked like someone your class might be able to look to as a leader.

The group had decided to throw a little party later that night, and you offered to help Byakuya tick off and confiscate all weapons or even potential weapons in the old building that would house this party… for some reason. Every loose wooden plank, every butter knife, every pointy object had to go. It felt like he knew something no one else did… but, you happily followed along, helping him with this task. Honestly, though, on the inside, you feared he was being a little too uptight. How would he enjoy the little get together tonight in this state of uneasiness?

In between locking up items he dubbed nefarious and double checking every corner of the building, you two actually got to know each other a little better. After hours of work, he was satisfied. All the while, he seemed to be watching Teruteru and Nagito like a hawk as the two shuffled in and out of the building preparing tonight’s dishes and cleaning respectively. What was Byakuya hiding from you? Why all the suspicion? Did he genuinely think one of your classmates would kill someone tonight? That was just insane to even think about.

Trying to ease his mind, you started up an innocent conversation.

“You shouldn’t worry so much, really! Tonight will be great! I know it. I brought my good luck charm and everything!” Smiling and seeking to distract his tense mind, you brought a little trinket out from your back pocket. In your flattened out hand you displayed a little baby blue pocket knife, barely the size of your palm. “My dad gave it to me when I was really little, and I -”

“What is wrong with you?!” Byakuya’s hand shot out toward you to grab the small blade and you flinched backward, holding your hands up defnesively and dropping it onto the floor in the process. The sudden, angry movement had frightened you, especially coming from a man who knew how to hold an intimidating presence.

The silence then was palpable as it hung in the air, and he, the real him, wanted to apologize, to explain himself and express regret for overreacting. He wanted to say that you’d been a joy to hang out with these past few days and that he’d never raise a hand to you, but Byakuya Togami would never lower himself to say these things… and right now, he was Byakuya Togami. He steeled himself to speak.

“I was merely going to confiscate the blade from you. What a gross overreaction…” He spoke condescendingly. “Do you really think me some animal, some lesser beast who physically assaults people? Don’t insult me so…” He scoffed, plucked the blade from the ground and pocketed it. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve dealt with, but clearly you’ve been hanging around with the dregs of humanity.” Crossing his arms nonchalantly over his chest, he left you there without another word, satisfied that his facade had remained in tact. Inside, it burned, it hurt to be so cruel to such a sweet person like you. He left to make final preparations for the party tonight and you stayed behind, offering to help Teruteru and Nagito since you were already there. It would take your mind off of the humiliation you just suffered.

Early into the next morning, when Monokuma dismissed the survivors of the very first class trial back to their cottages at last, you’d nearly missed it as you crawled onto your bed in a tired, traumatized ball:

A rectangular black box sat on your bedside table. It wasn’t yours, and you were sure your cabin door was locked. How did it even get there?

You opened it cautiously and found the most expensive looking, elegant, and elaborate looking pen in the world within. On one side was the Togami family crest, engraved delicately and masterfully. Tucked under it was a small note. You read it, tears welling up immediately.

A replacement good luck charm - T

Gundham Tanaka

Gundham felt totally secure with you, a feeling he’d never truly felt with anyone else. He’d never state it in plain words, but it was true nonetheless. You’d always been accepting of him and his rather eccentric ways. He didn’t need to feel like an outcast around you. He felt completely seen, understood on a whole new level. He could’ve sworn you cast some sort of spell over him, the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears would feel like they were on fire when you complimented him or held his hand. He nearly burst into flames when you once pecked his cheek with your soft lips after he carried a bunch of stuff back to your cabin for you as a favor.

You two spent nearly every day together. Everyone knew you two were a thing and you didn’t mind the teasing. You had no reason to be ashamed of how you felt about Gundham. He was the kindest soul you’d ever met, it just took a little digging to figure that out. Other than Hajime and Sonia - the only other two who really tried to get to know him - you were the only one who he’d let tend to the Devas. You often held them, fed them, watched them in your cabin when Gundham showered or needed a short break. The hamsters and Gundham himself provided a much needed light for you in the darkness of this killing game. The little things you did with him mattered so much to you. You appreciated every moment when in this place, you could be very much dead the next day. You swam at the pool and went shopping at the supermarket together on the main island, ate at the diner together on the second, hung out at the music venue together on the third, and now, trapped in the funhouse with starvation as the motive, Gundham insisted that you share the sound-proof, luxury room with him.

You’d initially gotten extremely flustered by his request but eventually accepted. Gundham didn’t seem to think twice about it. You supposed he was so naive to romance that he saw nothing wrong with you two sharing a bedroom at all. Maybe he did know, but cared more about your safety than the embarrassment. You knew he’d never do anything without your express permission anyway, so after deliberating, decided it was a non-issue. It was unusual for Monomi not to pop up to protest, however.

Days into being trapped in the funhouse, you sat at the small desk in your room feeling like a total asshole. You’d been in an argument with Gundham earlier, one that you’d totally started and knew you were in the wrong for. You rarely ever had a disagreement with him, much less gotten into a full-on fight. It was a bit one-sided however, as you yelled and complained while he just tried to reason with you and ultimately ended up leaving you alone in the room for some space. You regretted it the instant he left, and had made up your mind to apologize the second he returned. You were miserable: starving and dead tired from Monokuma Tai Chi every morning, but that was no excuse for your behavior. Everyone else was hungry and cranky, too, and you’d taken your anger out on Gundham for no reason.

You pulled out the headphones and small MP3 player Hajime gifted you when you hung out a few weeks back and slumped forward on the desk, moping as you put the headphones in and blasted the music as loud as the cheap earbuds would allow. You had to pass the time somehow, and walking around looking for Gundham when he’d eventually come back here to sleep would waste what little energy you had left. There was a small part of your mind that wondered: what if he didn’t come back? Your heart ached. Everyone was starving… someone would have to kill soon to get out of this hopeless situation. You could only hope and pray that the last thing you said to Gundham wouldn’t be that hateful nonsense. You let yourself zone out, head down on the desk and eyes closed lazily. You began to doze off and wouldn’t know how long you were out.

You awoke to the music still blasting in your ears and a tap on your shoulder.

“Hmm?” Groggily you turned to see Gundham behind you. Gripped tightly in his gauze-wrapped hand was a large, sharp knife the length of your forearm. Your eyes widened and you screamed, taken off guard by the frightening sight. “Gundham, please, no!” It was a bit odd that he looked more shocked than you did as you backed away from him, falling off the chair and onto the floor behind it with a thud. Tears began to stream down you face.

You didn’t think it would end like this, but it was kinda of the perfect location. The room was sound-proof, after all. You just never expected a betrayal this cruel. Maybe you should’ve. After all this time, all of these deaths, it was naive to truly trust anyone on this island. Why did it have to be him though of all people? Maybe he had to do this. After all, the Devas were starving, too, and they meant the world to him. Getting out meant saving them as well.

Tossing the knife onto the bed, he rushed over to you, kneeling to the floor and tearing the earbuds out of your ears.

“What sort of demon has possessed you?!” Confusion coated his visage and the Devas hopped down from their master’s scarf and swarmed you, sensing your distress.

“What do you mean?! You just scared the shit outta me!” Fresh tears sprang forward with your frustration.

“That was never my intention, my beloved…” he shook his head apologetically.

“Well you can’t just pop up out of nowhere with a knife like that, especially in a situation like this! I thought you were about to fucking murder me!”

“I assumed you knew that I would never do you harm, so I didn’t see an issue with my approach… These other peasants would do well to fear my dark powers, but I thought you knew that my loyalties lie with you, dear one!” He pulled off one of his dramatic gestures. You pulled your knees up into yourself, suddenly feeling very stupid.

He proceeded to explain that while he was gone, he’d decided to take on the Final Dead Room in hopes of finding a route of escape from the funhouse because he couldn’t stand to see you suffer like this for a single day more. Instead, he came upon a cache of weapons of every sort and size, and begged you to keep that fact a secret. Pulling you to your feet, he sat you down on the bed and handed you the knife.

“Since I can not spirit you away from this hell, I have chosen to provide you with the means to defend yourself should I ever fail to. Hide it somewhere that is always accessible to you and no one else. And my darling, I beg of thee,” he pleaded, “cease all usage of that wretched machine!” He pointed to the MP3 player discarded onto the ground. “You must be on your guard at all times in this place, especially if the Devas and I are not there to guard you.” Your bottom lip quivered, heart swelling at his concern for you, even after you screamed at him earlier. You sat the knife down and threw your arms around him, collapsing into his chest. You didn’t deserve him.

“I’m so sorry, Gundham! After I sat here and bitched at you for no reason, you went out and still thought of my safety? I’m so, so sorry!”

“Think nothing of it, dear one…” He mumbled, burying his red face in his scarf.

Teruteru Hanamura

Most of the your other classmates were repulsed or at the very least annoyed by Teruteru’s antics. His behavior: overtly flirty and forward, even to the point of perversion, was a major turn off for most of the people he talked to, but you actually really liked him. You found his one-liners funny, his pick up lines amusing. He was genuinely fun to hang out with, in your opinion. He complimented you a lot, and you would playfully tease and flirt back. He really seemed to enjoy the matching of his energy, and though you’d only known each other for about a week, you spent a lot of time together. He was usually showing you some simple yet delicious recipes and letting you taste test his meals (of course with a lot of innuendos built in) and you would share your interests with him while you cooked together. You noticed, also, that the more time you spent with him, the less time he spent bothering the others. Maybe all he needed was a little positive attention all along.

Tonight, all of your classmates would be attending a party, both to socailize and ensure that nothing could happen because you’d all be in the same place, which would leave too many witnesses, therefore making a killing unlikely. Teruteru of course was excited to do what he did best and provide the meals for the party, but his mood seemed to be like a rollercaster that day. As you spent hours helping him cook, sometimes leaving to take breaks or talk to the others, he seemed to go from flirty to worried, salacious to nervous, confident to angry. His mood seemed to turn foul when Nagito would waltz by the kitchen, passing through as he did his assigned cleaning duties in the party building. You noted this, but it was strange, as you hadn’t known Teruteru to particularly dislike any of your peers… Did he have an issue with Nagito? But Nagito was so chill…

No matter the reason for his mood swings, you took them for what they were and tried to help out by offering an extra hand (which he made a dirty joke about) or changing the subject when he got gloomy. You could only do so much to stabilize his mood, however, and eventually he seemed to just be barking orders or frustrated with you. He was already in a bad mood and you didn’t want to contribute to it. You weren’t a true chef anyway and you were probably just getting in the way, you figured, so you took a big tray of finished dishes and began to make your way out to the dining hall.

Your shoe caught onto a thick chord just outside the kitchen door, just a piece of junk Nagito hadn’t gotten to yet and you tumbled forward, spilling the entire tray onto the floor. You gasped as you hit the floor, your knees stinging with the impact. Teruteru, who witnessed the whole thing, ran over to you with a shriek to make sure you were okay. The melancholy melted away, and checking on you was all that mattered.

“(Y/N)!” Mistaking his tone for anger because of his previously existing foul mood, you were startled by his approach, flinching away, shrinking backwards slightly. You fucked up, you ruined the dishes he spent hours making. He was probably furious with you. He stopped dead in his tracks, shocked by that instinctual response from you. With your reaction, he finally realized how rude he’d been to you all night. It wasn’t your fault Nagito was up to no good, and even knowing what he knew, he shoudn’t have taken his mood out on you. He was pushing away the one person who treated him with such kindness and respect on this island. His mother wouldn’t have been proud of that. “Take my hand.” He extended it to you and helped you to your feet.

“I’m so sorry, Teruteru, your food-!” You began to apologize profusely but he cut you off.

“I can always make more. I enjoy making more. Are you alright? You took quite the spill!” He smiled warmly at you. “I shoudln’t have been so… intense earlier. My apologies.”

“Oh I’m fine! It’s okay. But, about the food… are you sure it’s gonna be okay? Can we really make more in time?” He nodded enthusiastically in response. When you beamed back at him, he felt his inside twist into a knot.

He had to stop Nagito tonight. It was decided. He didn’t know how, or the extent of Nagito’s plans, but he couldn’t let him start the killing game with that knife he’d caught him taping under the the dining hall table earlier that morning.

Because… what if Nagito chose you, as his victim?

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