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m-y-fandoms · 4 months

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Commission: DRV3 Boys x Female Reader - Seven Minutes in Heaven

Details: Takes place during the killing game, timeline switched around, creative license taken to imply everyone is alive and has known each other for at least a few weeks and has had time to get to know each other a bit. The threat of the killing game is still there though. Monokuma has announced it, just nobody has been killed yet. It’s also implied that the reader has a crush on the boy in each section however whether or not the boy is oblivious to that fact or feels the same varies.

Word Count: 5K Words

Warnings: SFW - fluff, maybe mild angst, possible V3 spoilers

Everyone needed something to divert their attention and obsessive thoughts away from the killing game. Though nothing had happened yet, the group of Ultimates got more and more antsy by the day. Every dark corner or empty stairwell seemed like a threat, and mistrust grew and loomed over them all like a black mold growing on the walls.

No one seemed to feel safe, though it had been weeks since the menacing-looking monochrome bear informed them that they were to kill each other for sport so they could return home to their regular school life and families. There was no concrete proof that this wasn't an extensive, well-planned practical joke or social experiment, some prank that would result in cameramen and producers springing out of the woodwork once all was said and done, and that was the only thing holding them together mentally. This could all be fake.

Nevertheless, something needed to change. They all had their little subgroups, individual trusted cliques or closest allies, but there was no denying the entire group needed to come together, to get to know each other a bit better and let off some steam. Unity meant potential lasting peace and no fatalities.

Someone suggested they play a frivolous little game that could keep everyone's attention for a while. Even though most of the group hadn't played it since middle school and some never at all, the rules were straightforward and simple enough. In addition to passing the time, it might even spark a little drama or romance. Any emotion was preferable to the fear of death and the sense of impending disaster.

Seven Minutes in Heaven: a game where two people go into a small room or cramped closet alone and have seven minutes to do anything they want to each other. Usually, the goal was the get handsy, to kiss or hug, to confess to someone, to make each other nervous, or to engage in casual romantic activities. It was supposed to be steamy and awkward, to put pressure on the two people. They would all randomly pick straws, and the two people who got the shortest straws would have to go in together while everyone else sat outside and timed their seven minutes. Knowing your peers were mere feet away outside the door only added to the tension.

The location was set: a small, cramped closet on the first floor next to the spare classroom and just before the steps down to the basement. It was dimly lit by an ancient overhead lightbulb hanging on by a thread and had just enough room for two people once the abandoned supplies, tools, and cobwebs were scooted to the edges. The Hotel Kumasutra was suggested first, but was shot down for being perhaps a little too intense, dramatic, and high-pressure for such a simple game. Nobody felt comfortable enough to enter the daunting building as of yet, despite its proximity to the popular casino.

And so, the game began.

Rantarou Amami

Waiting anxiously to see who you'll be paired up with, you pace the meager few steps you can manage in the tiny closet - back and forth, back and forth - working up a sweat that's more nerves than physical exertion. When the door swings casually open and you immediately see a fluffy full head of green hair, a shiver runs down your spine. It's a shiver that is half excitement and half humiliation. Of all fifteen other classmates, of course your crush, Rantarou Amami, was the one destined to draw the other straw and be trapped in here with you for seven excruciating minutes. Anyone else, literally anyone else, and you could've stalled, talked your way through those seven minutes, felt indifferent, and at most a little awkward. Rantarou made your heart flutter, froze you in place nearly every time he interacted with you. You stuttered, felt like you never said the right thing. He was just so handsome, with a smooth voice and a mysterious yet kind personality. You were quite sure, even with the memory loss you'd all suffered, that you hadn't had a crush this intense in quite a while. Certainly not one that turned you into a foolish mess.

Rantarou entered with his head bowed, shoulders shrugged forward. You'd never seen him - a dude who was usually quite confident and smooth - looking so uncomfortable. When he spun to look at you, the door now shutting you two in alone, he was almost wincing, facial expression squeezed into wrinkles and furrowed brows. It was as if his face was trying to say: "I'm sorry about this..."

"Heeeeey, (Y/N)," Rantarou spoke in a sing-songy voice that, again, was out of character for him, yet you felt your body stiffen up all the same. You hugged your body instinctively, feeling vulnerable as your heart beat wildly in your chest. You took a step back to create more space between you and the object of your infatuation and nearly tripped over a cardboard box on the ground behind you. "Yeah, this is about what I expected," he chuckled, his eyes wrinkling closed into kind little lines. He held his hands out in a sign of passive surrender. "So sorry about this, (Y/N). I swear, there was nothing I could do! It was all random." He rubbed the back of his neck, a small dust of pink over his cheeks. You felt your stomach drop. Did he think you disliked him? Was he perceiving your involuntary reaction as disgust rather than flustered? You suddenly felt super guilty. You were just now realizing he probably had taken note of this same adverse reaction every single time you were in the room with him. The logical thought process would probably be that your body language showed disdain.

"Oh, oh no, I hope you don't think I'm upset about being paired with you! I didn't realize my-" you tried to relax your shoulders, not wanting to let your own feelings affect him negatively.

"No, I don't think that at all, actually..." he cut you off, not wanting to let you get too far into this incorrect notion. He paused, thinking over how to word things delicately. "It's quite the opposite. I'm not as dense as you might think, actually. I pick up on things pretty well," he chuckled again, trying to ease the tense atmosphere, "and I... I kinda know you like me. You always get like this... when I talk to you. I'm... a bit more perceptive and empathetic than people think. I just wanted you to know, it's okay! You don't have to feel that way! I was worried about your reaction when I stepped in here. I knew you'd freak out." So subtly - almost seeming practiced and experienced - he gently clasped his rough hands into yours. They felt calloused, perhaps from the travels and adventures he'd vaguely mentioned when you sat there like a statue listening to him talk around the academy. The many bracelets settling on his wrists shook you back to reality, and your face heated up at the skin-to-skin contact. "I mean, I'm not trying to boast because I really don't think I'm such a catch, but I see the way you look at me, I've heard Miu talking about you having a crush as well..."

"I... I don't know what to say," you release a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, "This is a bit embarrassing..." you grumble, looking at the ground.

"You don't need to feel embarrassed. Honestly, I think you're a really cool person as well. I would love to get to know you more, but you always seem to run away after we talk for a little. The others are always around. It would be cool to spend some time hanging out alone, now that... I'm kinda confessing that I'm interested in you too?" He gives you a crooked smile. "Woah... your hands are like shaking."

Was this a dream? Was Monokuma replacing your classmates with clones to prank and humiliate you? There's no way Rantarou, the most attractive and fascinating guy here, was into you...

"I... I would really like that. Yeah, I'm sorry about my... less than pleasant reaction. I really didn't mean to come off as weird or make you uncomfortable."

"Hey, no worries. Well, you know, I played this game a ton in middle school. It was always silly, and stupid, but I have no issue playing it again, especially with you. What do you say? After all, I've played games way worse than this."

Ryoma Hoshi

The athlete strolled leisurely into the closet, hands in his pockets and the stick of a lollipop hanging carelessly out of his mouth. He always had something hanging out his lip, be it a candy cigarette, a toothpick, or something in between. You wondered if it soothed him. You'd gathered from conversations with him that his life had been pretty traumatic, at least in your opinion. His eyes were half-lidded as always, lazy and donning dark bags underneath. He sighed, stepping into the dim lighting provided by the single, dingy bulb above.

"Yeah, so I didn't really have anything better to do. Everyone else was sayin' they'd play and I was in the room at the time so I got roped in. Can't be much worse than anything else I've been through. Figured it might be good for morale, for these people to loosen up and play a game or two together. Lotta mistrust brewing." He looked around, seemingly disinterested and boasting an incredibly calm demeanor. You were wondering how someone could feel not even a little bit nervous playing a game with a premise like this.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to!" You smiled softly, offering him an out. You liked Ryoma a lot. His chill attitude, mysterious and interesting past, deep voice, and cute face intrigued you enough to even form a little crush, but you didn't want him here out of coercion or peer pressure.

“It’s whatever. I’m down to play. It’s fine. However, I’m sure I wasn’t who you expected or were hoping for.” He shrugs, less self-deprecating and more as if stating a plain fact. It didn’t seem to bother him either way if you did in fact wish it was someone else who was chosen to be with you for this dumb little game.

“Nah, I’m not disappointed,” you smirk a bit deviously, trying to hide the excitement you truly felt. You see his eyebrows raise a tad, which is more expression than you usually get from him. “Someone like you is kind of an interesting partner for this game. I’m betting you have more life experience overall than me. In fact, I know you do, after listening to some of your stories. You probably have more experience in everything: street smarts, common sense, even romance.”

“Uh, let me stop you right there.” He lets out a tiny, brief, dry chuckle, something skeptical in his tone. “Actually, not true at all, that last part. Not much romance in my life. Funny, you and I actually talk more often than I do with the others… I thought you would’ve picked up on that.”

“Oh?” You challenge him playfully, trying to flirt him into a more open mood.

"Yeah, I'd think that would be obvious. Who wants to take a chance on a no-good criminal with a clouded, ominous past? I don't really tell people all the details, and I'm not going to, but then I can't be surprised if people don't want to get to know me or trust me. Also, I'm aware I'm not the ideal, looks-wise. Never bothered me, but-" Once again, you can tell he's not looking for sympathy, but just honestly sharing his thoughts about himself. Before he can talk himself down further, however, you cut him off.

Stopping his words in their tracks, you leaned down to his height, bending at the waist sensually. Without skipping a beat, you casually took the lollipop from his mouth, coaxing it out without much resistance on his part. Smiling impishly, you popped it into your own mouth.

You'd never seen Ryoma Hoshi blush before this moment. It seemed like something he was incapable of.

Korekiyo Shinguuji

The lean, dangerously mysterious anthropologist stood across from you, tall enough and so close that he blotted out the dim light from the single bulb above in the cramped closet. He appeared like a silhouette, like some spooky demon or spirit from the cultural legends he often told you about. He seemed to be giggling behind his mask, amused at your flustered reaction to his closeness before he began to speak in that mystifying voice of his that was like smoke hissing past your ear and tickling the outer shell:

"You know, (Y/N), I almost said no to playing... This seems like such a childish little game, maybe even a waste of my precious time when I could be studying up on literally any other topic. But... then I thought: I've done far more promiscuous things than this before, games and rituals alike, so what's the harm in some little kid’s game? Why not? After all, there's something to be learned from every experience, and this game seemed integral to the middle school lives of our classmates, therefore making it culturally significant... if I... broaden my definitions a little." He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, making you sweat as he moved even closer during his little monologue.

"I see you're being v-very open-minded," you chuckled nervously, trying to hide the loud pumping of your heart. "Yes, I would've thought you were far too mature for this game!" You were now flat against the wall, nearly caged in by his lithe form hovering over you.

"I thought it might even be exciting," his tone adopted a more predatory note, "to see who I get and explore the essence of who they are, find their inner beauty for myself, one-on-one and in private. When nobody else can hear or see, they might let down some walls, and expose a side of themselves in this killing game that nobody has seen yet. It could be a fascinating study of human behavior. I didn't really care who I got matched with, as everyone here - with such varied personalities and talents - could be an extremely interesting subject!"

"Subject?" Now he was starting to worry you. You had to admit, though, the way he was passionately speaking, the way he pinned you into the corner of this enclosed space... it was rather exciting.

"You seem nervous..." he tilts his head innocently. "There's nothing to be afraid of, little (Y/N). This game, as I take it from the rules, is to start a romantic or flirty interaction, to cause feelings to bubble up in each other - excitement, arousal. These emotions are so wonderfully and beautifully human. Is that what you want, to try this in earnest?" You see one of his hands reach over to its opposite and begin to unravel the layers of gauze bandaging. You nod enthusiastically, almost entranced by his words. He takes this consent as his opportunity to take control, and something in his golden eyes turns animalistic.

"Good." He purrs.

Gonta Gokuhara

Almost comically shoved into this tiny closet and leaving little to no room for you was your chosen-at-random partner: Gonta Gokuhara, the gentle giant. He was desperately trying not to hit his head on the ceiling while also trying to remember to be considerate of you and your personal space. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, after all.

"Gonta wanted to play, because all of his friends were playing too! This game... sounds fun, but Gonta never played it before. Gonta a bit confused. Gonta love everyone here as a good friend, swear to protect them all, so why we not all play game together, in bigger, more comfortable place?" He asked genuine, thoughtful questions, and it appeared to you that he in fact did not know what he was getting himself into. You'd make sure he understood clearly before playing, as someone had obviously shoved him in here without a clear description of the rules or goals.

"Well, Gonta, this is a game where you're supposed to come in with one other person only and do flirty, cute, romantic stuff. Why did you agree to play without knowing what's going on?" You shook your head, snickering under your breath. You'd always found Gonta's endless positivity and determination to make others feel happy and protected adorable. He probably just wanted to be included, to make sure everyone had fun. And you had no doubt he was intelligent enough to understand the simple rules of this game, it was just very likely someone more mischievous - like Kokichi or Miu - purposely kept him out of the loop.

"Oh! O-okay!" He begins to blush, his mouth pressing into an uncomfortable, pursed line. "Gonta never done anything like that!" He was beginning to perspire on his brow.

"Well, do you want to try? You don't have to, keep that in mind! It's your choice, Gonta." You smiled in encouragement, making sure your body language wasn't applying any pressure to him even subconsciously.

"Ummm... Gonta would like to try if everyone else playing. Also!... Gonta trust (Y/N)." His words are shaking, and you decide you'll do the bare minimum, just a warm-up to see if he truly means his words. Him putting his trust in you was melting your heart.

Gently, as if you were approaching a bird that might fly away at any moment, you took a step closer to him and began to unbutton the tight brown suit jacket from his abs and waist.

Kokichi Ouma

Immediately upon being trapped in the closet with this gremlin, he started teasing you, trying to make you crack, or cry, whichever came first. All reactions were good reactions to him.

"Of all people, you got stuck in here with me. Sucks for you, don't it, (Y/N), you prude!" He swirls a finger in the air and presses it firmly into your chest, taunting you.

He spends the next few agonizingly drawn-out moments poking fun at you, at your flustered reactions, at the way your body responds to both his words and small touches.

"Oh, come on, (Y/N), this is baby shit! I barely even touched you! With my title as Supreme Leader, I've had to seduce hundreds of marks into giving up information or giving me what I want, and you can't even handle this? You wouldn't last two minutes in an interrogation by my organization, let alone seven. Pathetic!" He starts laughing, amused by your humiliation so much that his eyes begin to water.

You're sure his claims of seducing and interrogating victims before are lies, but regardless, your heart was beating out of your chest. Why did he have this effect on you? He had you right where he wanted you, and you were falling into his trap. Every time he ran his chilled fingers up your exposed arm or touched your chest and collarbones, you felt a shiver of desire and fright, a shockwave of panic and delight in tandem.

In truth, the others were worried about you. Most of them, the kinder portion of the group, felt bad about sending you in there alone with Kokichi. They didn't think such a kind, unassuming person deserved this kind of treatment.

With an underlying gentleness that almost betrayed his performative vitriol for you, he pushed your shoulders back, like a bully on a playground. He took note of your clumsiness, of the lack of coordination you must have if such a petite young man like him could nearly topple you over. He seemed to be taking into account his lack of time. Seven minutes wasn't much to work with. He'd had his fun, and was ready for the climax.

You stumble back against the wall, and instantly he pounced on you, cornering you in. Before you had time to adjust, to correct yourself to an upright position, he grabbed both sides of your face, pulling you in for a sloppy, deep kiss that lacked any care or gentleness. Your eyelids flew open as the taste of sweet candies and grape sodas flooded your mouth.

Kaito Momota

Kaito stood with his arms crossed defiantly in the middle of the closet. His taller frame and masculine figure took up most of the space as he stood firm, stubbornly biting the inside of his cheek. His brow was furrowed angrily, but not with an anger directed at you. After all, you must've been a victim in this just as much as he.

"Now, I didn't really wanna do this... it's beneath someone who sees fit to call themselves the Luminary of the Stars. I didn't earn this title through kiddy games after all, but..." he looked frustrated, maybe even with himself, "but they tried to say I'm too scared to play! As if!" He paced once in a circle in the tight confines, then huffed. "I'm realizing just now that I probably fell for it and this was their plan all along." He sighed deeply. "I gotta stop letting these assholes get to me." He conceded, his pride hurt. You had to admit, his reaction to the game was disappointing you, as you couldn't think of a better person to get stuck in here with. You smiled sheepishly, letting the uncomfortable silence mellow out in the air. You only had seven minutes, after all. "Man, it's cold and awkward in here..." Ah, yes. Kaito wasn't the type to let things just be silent. You decided it was your turn to speak now.

"So... you don't want to play with me, at all?" You speak shyly, a bit embarrassed at your own words.

"What, you do?" He counters, a single brow raised as you piqued his curiosity,

"Well... I mean, haha," you thought through how to word this so as to not weird him out or scare him off, or really just embarrass yourself in the process, "I felt really lucky to get stuck in here with you, out of everyone. If I may speak openly and honestly, I've been crushing on you for a while..." You felt your blood running hot.

"You have?" He's flushed pink, pulling his jacket in closer for security.

"Yeah, of course! You're handsome, charismatic, and you make me laugh when we are just hanging out casually. I think your determined spirit is admirable... but if you don't feel the same-"

"No!" He cut you off a little too eagerly before he could remind himself he was supposed to be playing it cool. He cleared his throat, calming down his tone a bit, "No, I mean I think you're great, too. And you're beautiful! Out of all these idiots, I'm glad it's you, too." Your heart swells. "Not that... not that I've been dwelling on this thought for too long." Though it feels like your heart is pumping fast enough to warm the entire room, Kaito was right, it was quite drafty in there. Seeing you shiver at the temperature, Kaito removes his large galaxy jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. It smells of him, of hair products and fresh deodorant. Simple and subtle. "We should hang out some more on our own, when we want to, not when these assholes force us into some stupid game with expectations and shit." He shows you a beaming, celebrity-like grin. "I would be an idiot to not want to get to know you more, especially with your talent!"

Shuichi Saihara

Poor Shuichi. The reserved, introverted detective had found himself shoved into this closet against his will. He'd merely come to observe the game from the farthest corner of the room - bored, and too wary of the threat of the killing game to be alone. Being alone was just the worst option right now: either his own thoughts would consume him or a potential killer might.

So now here he was, paying the consequences of wanting to hang out with a group of his peers. They'd put his name into the lottery without his permission, thinking it a cute and funny little prank, and when he was chosen, it only took two or three of them to shove him inside while he attempted to jump and claw his way out. Now he was a sweating, blushing mess, pawing at the door like a cat trapped in a bedroom. The same students that pushed him in snickered and howled in laughter on the other side, leaning their weight into the door so he couldn't escape. After a while, someone as smart as him knows when an effort becomes futile. He sighs, turning to face you with a warm flush of red over his entire body that contrasts wildly with the blues and blacks of his hair and uniform tones.

"Ugh, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," he groans, his voice cracking under his nerves. "I told them I didn't wanna play, but..." were you really that bad to be stuck in here with? His reaction seemed... over the top. Your shoulders sank downward, humbled by his response to your existence in the same space as him. He sees your crestfallen expression and panics, guilt overcoming him. "Please, no it's not you! I mean no offense. I didn't wanna come in here with anyone." He takes note of how your mood doesn't pick up in the slightest, and lets his head fall into his hands. "This is so embarrassing. I actually do really like you, this is just so awkward."

"You do?" Your ears perk up at that. Maybe you were mistaken in your earlier judgment.

"Yeah! You've always been kind to me, and you're quite interesting and fun to hang out with in this hellhole. Talking to you... really gets my mind off things..." he admits, clearly self-conscious. "I... well sometimes, I hear you talking about how you think you'll be the first victim of the killing game, talking down about yourself. I don’t think you should count yourself out... we all have our own strengths, though I know I ought to take my own advice sometime." He chuckles in such a gentle, exhausted way that it might as well have been merely an exhale.

Neither of you even noticed that during his little speech of praise toward you, he'd reached out and taken your hands gently in his own. It was a reflexive, instinctive, and intimate move. Rather than pull away, now feeling a bit more stable, and comfortable in sharing his thoughts as you hadn't reacted adversely, he pushes a bit further. He rubs his thumb across the back of your hand, and for seven minutes, that's enough for him.

Kiibo / K1-B0

The almost-human robot is standing across from you, arms flat by his side. He looks far more relaxed than you were, passive and maybe in some kind of rest mode, if he had one.

"Now what?" He asks plainly.

"Nobody told you what to do?" You replied, a bit stunned and wondering why he was even here.

"Vaguely. It sounded like a complete waste of time, though. If it's what humans do, it's certainly not in my programming. Therefore, I might as well learn from this experience as not to be embarrassed later on should the topic come up again." He sounded so practical, so... bored with the current situation.

"Well... I don't know how much you were told but this game is about emotions, feelings... touching and flirting, making the other person nervous and flustered, seeing how far you two are willing to go with each other… in a romantic kind of way. It's uniquely human... it may not be productive for you if you can't comprehend-"

"I have plenty of emotions and feelings! I can understand it perfectly fine!" He retorted, offended and seemingly embarrassed. You didn't know he could get embarrassed. Maybe he could in fact enjoy this game to its fullest. You intended to get something out of this experience. This could be fun. You had to admit, you'd been curious about the extent of Kiibo's understanding of human interactions and emotions for a while now. You wondered how much he could feel, emotionally and physically. If you pulled his hair, would he cry out? If you scratched his thigh, would it bleed simulated blood? There could be a lot of room for exciting discovery that awaited you.

"Well then, I'm curious..." you reach a single, cautious hand outward and stroke his hair. It's stunningly soft. It feels shockingly real, not like some cheap synthetic wig or some type of rubber or metal shaped to mimic hair. Kiibo did something like a vibration or shudder, a chill running down his spine. You wondered if this was a programmed response, all artificial and planned, or if Kiibo's free will really extended that far. How real did his creator intend for him to be? For what purpose was he truly built? What did a scientist stand to gain from making a feeling, loving, human-like young man? You could see a war machine or an endless knowledge bank easily being worth the time, but Kiibo didn't seem to excel in pretty much... anything. "How does that feel?"

"I... I don't know. It's making me... relax? I think that's how you'd describe it. I feel like I am running on low power and sluggish, but in a good way? On purpose..." he speaks softly.

"And this?" You run a hand down his pale cheek, and it's warmer than expected, though below a real human’s body temperature for sure. You're so focused on touching the simulated, soft, supple skin, that you don't even notice Kiibo's eyes blown wide open as if scanning you, entranced and staring almost through you. It was safe to say he might have been touched-starved, unused to the sensation.

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m-y-fandoms · 5 months

Note

Can I make fanart of your oc?

I answered this same ask earlier today but I’ll copy and paste my answer:

If you mean the pink haired, tan skinned Danganronpa style girl in my pinned post, it’s not an OC really, it’s me drawn in the Danganronpa style. But sure you can draw her/me if you want! I would appreciate you not claiming her as a new OC of your own though because I may wanna make art of myself again in that style sometime in the future and don’t want people yelling at ME thinking I stole YOUR oc 😭 lol. Just credit/tag me! Thanks for your interest!

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m-y-fandoms · 6 months

Text

COMMISSION: SDR2 Boys x Female Reader - Seven Minutes in Heaven

Details: Takes place during the killing game, timeline switched around, creative license taken to imply everyone is alive and has known each other for at least a few weeks and has had time to get to know each other. The threat of the killing game is still looming though. It’s also implied that the reader has a crush on the boy in each section however whether or not the boy is oblivious to that fact or feels the same varies.

Word Count: 5K Words

Warnings: SFW - fluff, probably mild angst, possible SDR2 spoilers

Intro:

Everyone needed a distraction. It was getting pretty hard for the group’s self-proclaimed leader, Byakuya, to keep their minds off of the threat of a potential killing game, and he wasn’t the most creative when it came to having fun. Unfortunately for him, having fun was probably the only thing that would help a gaggle of anxious, on-edge teens relax right about now. It’d been weeks without incident since that malicious-looking monochrome bear appeared and told them he expected them to kill each other for sport in order to go home, but nobody seemed to feel safe despite that fact. There was no cold hard evidence to prove this wasn’t some long, elaborate prank or social experiment, and two facts made them believe Monokuma’s words, made them believe they were in danger: first of all, they’d seen those “Monobeasts” blast their innocent, adorable self-proclaimed teacher Usami to pieces, and secondly, nobody from their lives back home had even attempted to contact or rescue them. With each day that passed, they trusted each other less, and the bags under their eyes grew darker. Yes, they needed to have fun.

A game was suggested. It was something simple, well-known to most of the group, even if they hadn’t played it since middle school or really at all. It would pass the time, and maybe create some romance or drama. Any feeling was better than impending doom and the fear of death.

The location was set: a small, cramped closet in the old building next to the hotel. It was dimly lit by an ancient yellow overhead lightbulb hanging on by a thread and had just enough room for two people once the abandoned supplies, tools, and cobwebs were scooted to the edges.

And so, the game began.

Teruteru Hanamura:

You were standing in the back of the dark closet, having been the first one chosen to play the game. Figures it would be you. Out of 17 students you picked the first short straw, and now waited patiently for whoever you'd be matched up with. It could be a girl, a guy, someone you hung out with often, or a weirdo you actively avoided. It was nerve-wracking knowing that if you embarrassed yourself, 15 people would be listening right outside the door, but on the bright side, at least no one could get away with killing you when classmates waited within earshot. One scream for help and your attacker would be caught, right?

It didn't take long for your partner to make themselves known, as the closet door busted open before you and was closed in a flash, barely giving you time to process what was happening and certainly no time to see who entered.

You were swarmed in an instant. A warm, soft body clung to your own and engulfed you in a flurry of hands. You were being poked and prodded and the excited mutterings and giggles gave away who this was immediately. You knew those salacious squeaks very well.

"Teruteru?" You grappled with him, grasping out in the dark for his hands to settle them.

"Ohoho~ yes, my queen?" The flirtatious chef snickered, fighting off your attempts to calm him. Queen? Given your little secret crush on the Ultimate Cook, you would've blushed if you didn't have the knowledge that he spoke to everyone like this.

"N-now just hold on a second! Wait!" You squealed, ticklish in odd places and your heart racing at your luck. You often spent time with Teruteru as he seemed harmless, and he made you laugh with his antics. You never meant to develop feelings for him, and sometimes you swore it was just infatuation because he gave you attention and could be quite charming, but regardless here you were, feeling this way. "Don't you wanna slow down, take our time a-and make the most of our seven minutes?" You sputtered, trying to appeal to a sense of reasoning you didn't really know Teruteru to have.

"Huh...?" To your surprise, he halted all movement, seemingly confused by your words. You were just as shocked to get through to him at all. Soon the closet was quiet, filled with just the sound of two souls breathing.

"What's wrong?" You gulped.

"Well... I entered fully expecting to be kicked out expeditiously... either that or you would make a break for it, so I figured I would try to rush in and at least get something out of this experience," he spoke candidly. It was true that he was someone used to rejection, to being an object of repulsion. He probably expected you to be like everyone else.

"But, Teru... I mean… you and I hang out all the time. Do I ever treat you like that?" You posed the question, a bit hurt that he thought of you the same way as everyone else after you’d put what you thought was a lot of time and attention into building a friendship with him.

"Hmmm... I suppose not... but this is something different altogether. I - wait a second! Are you saying you want to do this with me?" He sounded astonished, incredulous. His hands trailed down your arms to take your own in a gentle grasp.

You felt your face heat up, your pulse in your throat, like maybe you'd been too frank, too honest. Maybe your little crush was being worn too plainly on your sleeve.

"Umm... I mean, well..." you chuckled nervously. You could almost feel his smirk, the little devilish rosiness creeping up his cheeks.

"Well, well, well, it looks like my little sous-chef has been hiding something from me. All this time, I never would've guessed~ I thought you were just tolerating me," he teased. You squirmed as he ran his hands up your arms then down the sides of your waist. "Looks like I need to give you some private, one-on-one cooking lessons more often~"

Byakuya Twogami

Cramped even further into the already tight closet by his rather robust figure, you stood there looking up at Byakuya, feeling rather small and exposed, vulnerable. He looked down at you with his arms crossed confidently over his chest. This was a condescending look and stance that he often displayed. It made you feel even more inferior this close up.

"Let's be very clear here. I volunteered to go first for one reason and one reason only: as the leader of you braindead group of cretins, it is my duty to keep up morale so you don't all completely lose it. A true leader," he sneers, "leads by example. I'm tired of seeing you lot run around depressed and terrified so here I am, to save the day as usual. If this silly game makes you all stop whining, I’m willing to lower myself to your level for the night." He rolls his eyes, an expression you can only just barely make out in the dim warm lighting.

"Oh... yeah, I know-" you are promptly interrupted as he continues, blonde hair moved casually out of his face and properly back into place.

"This is beneath me and my breeding: this musty, disgusting closet, this silly child's game, this island, but I know you'd all fall apart without me so here I am. I don't intend to participate in any activities beneath me in this closet here today, however. I simply refuse."

"Yeah... I suspected as much," you twiddled your fingers nervously, looking down at the ground, attempting to get the sentence out once more. "I figured you volunteered for those reasons, and not because you saw it was me coming in here first... that would be too good to be true," you spoke shyly, voice breaking. You really admired Byakuya and the immense pride and status that he carried with him. You found him attractive even though he was extremely intimidating.

A shade of pink dusts over his cheeks at the implication behind your words, his eyes widening under his spectacles for just a beat before he took on that nonchalant, confident expression once again. He couldn't let the facade fall, not for anything or anyone.

"Well then," he cleared his throat, a little too awkwardly for someone of his usual poise, "I'll allow you to admire me. It's not like I'm unused to praise and reverence... envy even..." His voice trails off and he holds one large hand out to you as if you were a peasant expected to kiss a king's ring before being allowed an audience.

For a second you didn’t know what to do, heart racing wildly in your chest. You felt like no matter what you did, you'd mess up, earning a scolding from him, an insult perhaps... but why did even the idea of that excite you so much?

Body shaking, you leaned down, took one of his hands in both of yours and kissed his knuckles. He tried to hide any and all instinctual responses but you felt him stiffen up, his knuckles flexing at the touch. The skin there was unexpectedly rough... not the pampered, soft hands of Togami nobility you'd anticipated. You didn't linger on the thought though, too anxious to see his reaction. Pathetically, you kissed him now on his wrist, agonizingly slow. It was more out of embarrassment then trying to be a tease, however, he was getting impatient all the same. He felt himself sweating over a certain emotion for the first time in forever.

"Oh for the love of-" he scoffs, ripping his hand out of your grasp, "You're embarrassing yourself." He spoke curtly. Roughly, he grabbed onto your shoulders firmly with both hands, pulling you into his chest. With a fervor that frightened you, he took control, crushing his lips skillfully onto yours.

Gundham Tanaka

When Gundham Tanaka burst into the closet with zeal and anything other than an expression of displeasure on his face, you immediately knew he was there under false pretenses. He was the last one who would want to rush into this game, to want to have anything to do with it, so the fact that he was clearly entering by choice told you everything you needed to know. This man was clearly confused. You couldn't help but chuckle as he slammed the door closed behind him, leaving you two alone with a little privacy.

"I see I got here not a moment too soon! The imp Hiyoko Saionji let slip that this unassuming closet in fact contains a portal to the Nether and revealed you'd gotten yourself trapped in here with no way to escape! Of course, only I, Gundham Tanaka, can resist the energetic pull of a Netherworld rift! Fear not, foolish mortal, I am here to save you!" You let him rant, shaking your head at the theatrics. You found his outbursts so entertaining, his personality cuter than even his soft hamsters.

"Gundham... I fear you've been tricked," you sigh, taking a step back to give him some space. "This is a game, there is no portal... but unfortunately, it looks like neither of us will be having any fun." You spoke dejectedly, seeing as you truly would've loved indulging in this game with someone as attractive as Gundham. He was dark and mysterious, with a sexy deep voice and amazing hair. He was kind to animals and such a unique character. Truly one of a kind. How could you not fall for him? "I refuse to play now, knowing that you didn't consent to this. I'm sorry they roped you into thi-" Your words were halted as another thought crashed into the previous one impulsively like a train off its rails. "Wait a second... why would you come save me? You came in here... to rescue me from danger?" You smiled, a big, cheeky grin.

"Think nothing of it, fiend. I would've done the same for any mortal here!" He blushed and stuttered, hiding his face in his purple scarf. "Do not look at me like that! I feel accursed by your gaze alone!"

"No... no you wouldn't," you giggle. "You actively avoid us all. You've been a loner since day one." You step closer, emboldened by his response, by the words you were reading from in between the lines.

"You... you're less insufferable than the others. Nothing more, nothing less." He crosses his arms, a violent red covering his normally corpse-toned face. With a gasp, you look down in surprise when you feel the skittering of claws and fur brushing up your arm. One of the Dark Devas, small and swift, clung to your sleeve and made its way up to your shoulder, buying its master time and a distraction. It presses its little lips to the side of your cheek as if to mimic a kiss as best as it could, rubbing its tiny claws into your skin playfully. It looks up at its master with shiny, telling eyes. He knows exactly what it means to convey, a savant of animal behavior. "It seems you've earned the blessing of one of the most powerful beings to walk this plane of reality. Rejoice and feel blessed that he approves, for the opposite reaction is far more common and fatal!" He was back to his performance again it seemed.

"And..." you feel more confident than before, knowing Gunhdam took the opinions of his hamsters extremely seriously, "what about you? Do you approve?" You took his cold, bandaged hand into yours gently, looking for his consent, for him to let his walls down just enough to allow you to do more. You wanted more.

Nekomaru Nidai

This closet was tiny, criminally so when you considered its newest occupant. You found yourself crushed between a dusty wooden wall and the largest, firmest pectorals you'd ever seen. You were sweating profusely, a nervous mess. Most people slowly got to know their crush, observed from afar, had lunch and chit-chat maybe, and here you were, suddenly pressed flush up against the steel-like muscles of the object of your desires.

"Why do you look so... worked up, (Y/N)?" Nekomaru grins genuinely down at you, oblivious of both your crush on him and how uncomfortably you felt about this forced skin-to-skin moment (probably because the man had never felt shame in his life).

"I- I'm not!" You squeal a little too defensively. You try to shuffle past him, closer to the wall, anything. It only serves to chafe, to make him readjust as well until you're even stickier and smushed than before.

"Anyways..." he continues heedlessly, "I don't really get the rules of this game or whatever." He stretches his arms upwards carelessly, easily hitting the ceiling. Your eyes can't help but rake over his flexing arms and lumbering frame.

"Well if you don't understand, then you can leave... I don't wanna make you uncomfortable," you state sympathetically, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of your crush.

"Nah, everyone wanted me to play so I'll play!" He beamed. "I'm no killjoy. You just go first, maybe I'll pick it up and understand along the way!" He was so authentic, so sweet, and positive. You wanted to melt under his gaze.

"Are you sure?" You rubbed your forearms restlessly. He nodded enthusiastically. "Well... I've always liked the idea of being carried by a big, strong man... to feel dainty and.... small and... ohh!-" Before you could finish your thought you were swept off of your feet and scooped into a pair of secure, firm arms. You felt safe, impossibly tiny and protected.

"Like this?" He questions, obviously eager to please. Now level with his eyes this high off the ground, face-to-face with him, you were stunned into silence. His strong features, so unbelievably masculine and striking, hypnotized you.

"Yes..." You felt breathless, lost in a trance. You couldn't stop staring at his lips, at his intense eyes. "Just like that..." It's silent for a long while, and he tightens his grip on you almost instinctively. He feels the need to be your shield, to keep you to himself, and finds himself staring right back.

"I think I'm starting to understand... so, it's only fair that it's my turn now?" He speaks plainly, some glimmer of want in his eye.

Nagito Komaeda

You feel like a complete oaf, heart nearly bursting out of your chest. You were an agitated, sweaty mess, staring across the mere feet of space in the tiny closet into the eyes of a boy who had you cornered like a fox with a rabbit. You felt like prey, as his eyes, always mysteriously unreadable to predator-like, combed over you shamelessly. He was always up to something, and everyone knew it.

This had to be planned. Of all people, it had to be Nagito. Someone did this on purpose... they knew you had a huge crush on him and made sure he picked the second short straw. Someone wanted to see you squirm and suffer. Everyone here knew you weren't the type to be bold or romantic enough for this game. This wasn't for your benefit, to gently help you shoot your shot. This was rigged.

"It's like your thoughts are written all over your face, (Y/N)... They might as well be," he teases, backing up until you are cornered, crushed against the wall with only his slender frame to brace you. "I know you like me, (Y/N). There's no denying it." He knows using your name, hearing your name spill from his lips will drive you wild. The little shit. "You're a wreck right now," he chuckles fiendishly, feeding off of your energy and positively basking in it. "Just my luck, to be chosen at random to come in here with you~" He grins devilishly. "Well... drawing straws is child's play for my 'talent.' Oh well! You should probably make the best of it." He shrugs dismissively.

"So... you wanted this? You did this on purpose?" You were trying to glean the meaning behind his words, his true intentions, anything to make this situation less vexing. You tried to read his pale, beautiful features, begged him with glistening doe eyes to give you space or mercy. At the same time, you wanted him closer, to feel his touch. It was unbearable.

"Why are you fighting your feelings?" He spoke so casually, as if asking what time it was. How did he seem to know everything, all the time? "Are you embarrassed to like someone like me, for the others to find out?" He snorts, exhaling dangerously close to your face. He places one hand on the wall behind you, the other on your waist. "I can understand why. I would be embarrassed as well. I'm a nobody here. Everyone thinks I'm a weirdo and my talent is useless. However, seeing you flustered, riled up for someone like me... it fills me with a sense of hope."

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

"Get off of me! I'll fuckin' kill you!" You are startled into the back corner of the closet as the second participant of the game stumbles clumsily in. Obviously having his small frame pushed forward none too gently, he's pissed off (not that this was a rare occurrence for him) and determined to give your classmates a piece of his mind. He screams threats of violence at the giggling teens who pushed him one last time before the door is slammed in his face. "I already said I'd play, you dipshits! You didn't need to fuckin’ shove! Next time you put your hands on me I'll cut them off!" He huffs, face red as a tomato.

"Um..." You're at a loss of what to say, and how to begin. It's not starting off well. He was in a foul mood, and it seemed you'd never get to indulge in the fun of this game with him. Upon hearing your voice, he is brought back into the moment and finally turns to face you.

"Oh great, it's you," he scoffs, determined to make someone, anyone hurt the way he was hurting. If he had to feel embarrassed and have his night ruined, so did you. A shiver of sadness ran down your spine. It was like a surge of palpable hurt. Why would he say that? Why did he feel the need to hurt you? You felt nothing but admiration and attraction toward him. You'd never judged him or pitied him for his height and baby face, never annoyed him on purpose or brought up the topics that others used to rile him up. In fact, you enjoyed your conversations with him and found him exceedingly handsome. It made it hurt twice as much, that he would so casually insult you. When he sees that flash of insecurity, of pain across your face, he instantly regrets his words. He blanches, mouth dropping open for just a second before he begins to backtrack in remorse. "Hey... don't look at me like that." He forces an airy snort. "I guess you're not so bad... I mean, you're way more normal than the rest of these weirdos we're stuck with." We? "Actually, after that story you told me in the market that one day about your dad, I'm starting to think we aren't so different..." He crossed his arms, looking up at the ceiling. You perked up at that.

"You remember that? I didn't even think you were listening..." Your heart beats, and flutters with hope.

"Of course, I was listening. I'm not deaf, am I?” He rolls his eyes. “And like I said, you're not like these freaks. I don't mind spending time around you..." He sounded like he was fighting his own words, pouting. When he sees you start to grin sheepishly, he frowns. "Don't go getting a big head now just because I tolerate you!" He points at you in a warning way.

"Sorry! I'm sorry..." You cover your smile with your hands as you are unable to relax the muscles of your mouth.

"So what, are we supposed to make out now or whatever? Is that how I win?" He speaks as if this were some competition, yet another thing in his life where he must excel or be looked down upon, or bring shame to his family name. "I'm not letting any of these losers upstage me at a stupid child's game!" He huffs.

"Well, you don't have to do anything really..." You shrink into yourself, feeling silly and really exposed all of a sudden now that the actual game was supposed to begin.

"Nah, nobody is gonna call me a pussy," he snarls, marching two steps toward you with purpose until you have nowhere to go. You gasped in surprise as you were pulled into a fiery, forceful kiss that set your skin alight and left you dazed.

Kazuichi Souda

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!" The magenta-haired boy across from you was riled up, revving like an engine. He was practically drooling, shaking with anticipation and excitement in the low lighting of the dimly lit closet.

"Kazuichi, may I ask why you're so hyped up?" You couldn't help but giggle at the display before you. He licked his lips and sharpened teeth, restless and full of vigor like a male bird doing a mating dance to attract a female. He was so adorable when he was in good spirits like this, so hyper and oozing energy like the engines he tinkered with.

"Huh, what do you mean?" He smirks mischievously, but there is a hint of genuine, innocent confusion in his tone.

"Well, I'm only wondering why you're so excited. It's just a silly game, and it's just me," you scoffed playfully. You'd had a crush on the skillful and eccentric mechanic for a while now, but you'd never dreamed he would be this excited to show his feelings for you in return. Maybe he would be satisfied with any female classmate showing up in that closet that night, especially someone as regal as Sonia or perhaps someone who played hard to get like Peko, but you weren't used to boys giving you this type of attention and wanted to bask in it.

"Whaaa?" He sounded incredulous. "Just you? You're super hot, why wouldn't I be pumped? It's not every day I get to spend time alone with a hot chick, and you're super chill! I've always liked you! I think you're a ton of fun. Such a unique talent, too." He sticks his tongue out teasingly, almost daring you to play with him.

"Are you serious?" You can hardly believe his words. "Well... I really like you, too, Kazuichi... I think you're... 'hot' as well." You chuckle, cheeks warming up. His bravado fizzles a bit at that. He was certainly not used to that reaction to his advances. He suddenly feels quite sheepish, overly flattered, and it makes him want you even more than before. Your words are not the kind he hears often.

He was a flustered mess.

"C-can I... would you mind if I kissed you?" He stuttered, sweat beading on his forehead. You eagerly, enthusiastically nodded, wanting that and much more from him.

He endearingly, awkwardly pulls you in by your waist, slotting himself in so your bodies meld together comfortably. When his jittery lips press against yours they are a bit chapped, as were most body parts on a blue-collar tradesman. It was expected, but not unpleasant. It was what made him, him. He parted his lips and you mirrored him, deepening the kiss. You let your hand wander, playing with his hair until his beanie slipped off and onto the floor.

Hajime Hinata

Hinata was closed off, arms crossed, expression uninterested, dull, and neutral. It was no surprise to you. Hajime could certainly come off as the "Tsundere" type you'd read about in manga comics and see on TV shows. He never struck you as romantically inclined, more interested in practical things like trying to get off this island, or platonic conversations. He seemed to love making friends and all of your classmates liked and trusted him. He was the true neutral, often a moderator. People seemed to open up to him, but not romantically. He could be quite sarcastic or cynical at times but was reliable and kind. That's what you found alluring about him. He was handsome, with a wide chest and broad shoulders, a good height, and an attractive voice, but in a less shallow vein, he was also an ear to listen, an intelligent mind, and an excellent friend.

"They pressured me into playing. I assume they did for you, too. We don't have to do anything..." He shrugs and grumbles. His eyes seem to quickly dart between you and the wall. His Adam's apple bobbles once, twice. Little gestures betray his heart and mind. Maybe he wasn't as cool and collected as he seemed.

"What if we want to...?" You counter, unable to look him in the eyes for fear of rejection.

"...Well, do you?" He retorts, just as sharp-witted as always. He was terribly good at deduction, reasoning, and reading between the lines.

"I don't know... I played this game in middle school once but I guess since we are older, we know more... we do more? I don't know the exact rules."

"I don't think there are any rules." He takes a step closer to you, a glint of curiosity and interest in his eyes. "...Do more? How much are we talking?" You see something like intrigue arise in him, more awake than before. It seems like he wants to play... that he wants to play with you, but Hinata was not promiscuous, he was not one to chase skirts or flirt casually like Kazuichi and Teruteru. He wasn't one to engage in anything sensual or even mildly suggestive with a girl unless he truly had feelings in the first place. You started to wonder if maybe, after weeks of spending time exploring the island with him, getting to know him, your crush was mutual... "Well... we don't have much time." He looks you up and down, not so innocently. He bites the corner of his lip, thinking of what to do with such little time. He was effortlessly seducing you and he didn't even know it. He lowers down to the ground, sitting with his knees bent up.\

"Hajime?" You nearly whisper, puzzled by his actions.

"Sit." He doesn't need to ask twice. You sit beside him on the dusty floor of the cramped closet. You inhale sharply in surprise when his arms, much stronger than they appear, encircle your waist and pull you effortlessly onto his lap until you straddle him. Your face is inches from his, your warm thighs hugging his hips. "Is this fine to start?" He speaks in a new octave, lower than you've ever heard from him. A shiver runs down your spine.

"Of course..." Your eyelids feel begin to feel heavy, your head dizzy. Was this really happening?

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m-y-fandoms · 7 months

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COMMISSION: Nagito Komaeda Dating Head-Canons + Small Drabble Sections

Word Count: 1.7K Words

Details: SFW requested and pretty gender-neutral. Established relationship, not just a crush or pining.

Path 1 - Despair/Island Killing Game:

Nagito definitely holds your hand or clings to you as you explore the island from the jump. If the Killing Game hasn’t started yet, he tries to make excuses for his neediness and desire to be attached at the hip. He senses the danger, that things are a little too peaceful, but he doesn’t want to weird you or anyone else out or spread a panic quite yet. Once it’s been announced and Monokuma arrives, he insists on escorting you to lunch and breakfast, on poison-testing your food. He cares very little for his own safety.

Definitely stalks you around the island and keeps to the shadows if you mention wanting space or insist you will be safe on your own every once in a while.

The illusion of choice would be a huge issue with him in the Killing Game setting with an S/O. It may not be healthy, but even when you think he’s out of sight or not plotting any crazy schemes/ideas,, rest assured he is already two steps ahead. He would do anything to make sure his bad luck cycle affects anyone but you and works over time, sometimes into the early hours of the morning to try and find Monokuma’s creator and the “traitor” that is surely among you all.

He insists on sleeping in your cabin or you in his. He feels better in yours, though, convinced his terrible energy and the dangerous aura that follows him around like a shadow has probably sunk into every corner of his own domicile. Anywhere he can call his own surely has to be haunted with misery and blackened with terrible omens of what’s to come. He feels at peace when he enters your safe space: your cabin decked out with items that are personalized to your talents and hobbies. He feels less alone, less burdened by the energy that surrounds himself.

When you blush and explain to him that it may not be appropriate for him to stay the night in your cabin, he brushes it off. He’s not even thinking about that kind of stuff, about the implications of a student sleeping over at their lover’s cabin. He wouldn’t even see himself as worthy enough to be more intimate with you in the first place. When he would hold your hand or cling to you like a human shield it was always for your good, not his own pleasure or to sate his own touch starvation.

“W-what do you mean?” Your face flooded with a warmth when he first suggested (more like insisted on) it. Your cheeks felt hot to the touch.

“Huh? Why do you look so flustered right now? It’s no big deal, really!” He displayed a crooked, paranoid grin. It was only your third night on the island and he’d already reached his limit. Watching you go into your room alone every night was stressful and tore away at him. How could he protect you if someone snuck in from the opposite side window, or if he couldn’t hear an altercation through the walls? The distance and limited time for reaction were just too risky.

“Nagito… I mean… you don’t think the others will, I don’t know, maybe judge us?” You put a hand to your face in contemplation, unable to meet his eyes. “Maybe they will think it’s weird… or that something inappropriate is going on here… usually two students aren’t allowed to spend the night together… if this were a regular school-“

“Oh well if that’s your concern, I can sleep on the ground! I was going to suggest laying in the bed with you, but that may have been presumptuous of me! If you’re uncomfortable-”

“I think you’re missing the point!” You cut him off, heart beating wildly at the thought of your boyfriend just crawling into bed with you every night. You’d never done more then hold hands, now he wanted to snuggle up in the dark wearing nothing but your bedclothes? It was a huge step. You feared the judgmental smirks of people like Hiyoko, the lectures on proper behavior from your more uptight classmates. People would whisper for sure. Some would confront you and want the details. Nagito was the black sheep of the group after all. Nobody was as close to him as you. You could already hear Ibuki and Akane teasing you, making up crazy scenarios of what they thought happened when you and Nagito spent the night together.

“O-oh, if you’re that worried about what our peers would think, I can understand! I would be embarrassed to be dating someone like me as well, but I will make sure they know nothing unbefitting of a ray of Hope like you happened! I’m just here to keep watch. I wouldn’t dream of trying anything!” He flashed a cheesy smile, holding his hands up in submission. It seemed like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time. You sighed deeply in resignation. He already stands outside the bathroom when you shower, so this wasn’t really that much further of a stretch.

He spends hours thinking about how he wants to kiss you, how he wants to touch your bare skin to his, even in the most ticklish or innocent of ways. He lets his mind stew over it, fantasizes, but never acts on his desires. He believes his filthy hands - cursed with bringing harm to others in order to bring luck to himself - could never defile your perfect skin, never dirty your soft hair. Even to ask for your consent to do so would be pathetic, embarrassing. Someone like him lived to serve, please and protect a glowing source of Hope such as yourself. This was bigger then him. You needed to survive, to bring change and Hope to the entire world.

If one day by some miracle you asked, begged him to touch you, to give you more the a vice-like hand-holding session, he could never deny you that request. The last of his restraint would break. His hands would shake, afraid to mess it up, to upset you. His mind would race. Even a small kiss would set his pale, clammy skin on fire.

It would set into motion another hyper-fixation, an addiction… obsession. He would know what true Hope tasted like when your lips touched his.

Nagito is definitely the type to kill others for the sake of his S/O. In canon, he offers to help the blackened, sets up traps and tricks to get people caught or assists in trials, but if he had someone to truly love him and love in return, I think it would set his crazy into overdrive. I would expect he would actually get a bit sloppier, too focused on your safety and happiness above all else that he doesn’t even care if he gets caught or slips up. It’s kind of like how some people in powerful positions or criminal organizations don’t want their family known or easily accessible. That’s an easy hostage, easy leverage. You have something to lose, and therefore you are weaker.

Path 2 - Hope’s Peak Academy School Life/Normal Non-Despair:

Nagito is constantly staring at you, taking in your beauty and radiance. He’s obsessive, constantly adjusting the buttons on your uniform or fixing a pleat that is out of place. He doesn’t even notice when his own tie or collar are loose.

He offers to do your laundry, fold your clothes, clean your dorm. Little favors that make your life easier feel like an honor to him.

When he does your laundry, he dives his nose into your dirty outfits and breathes deeply of your scent. He can’t help himself. Your aroma is like a natural pheromone to him. He will feel guilty, disgusting as he tucks a sock or pair of underwear into his backpack or pocket. He swears to himself he will return it to you… someday, once it’s lost its potency.

There’s a shrine of sorts to you in his own dorm room, which he never lets you enter. He always has an excuse: it’s dirty, it smells in there, he doesn’t want anyone seeing you enter such a lowlife’s room. He fears that if you see the extent of his love for you, his unhealthy obsession, that you’ll be scared away.

The shrine consists of strands of your hair, things he’s swiped from your dorm room without you noticing, photos of you printed out and framed (some photos, he was even blessed enough to be in with you!)

He plans at least one date night every single week. As soon as classes are over he spares no expense on taking you out and letting you pick whatever activity you’re in the mood for. He’s just happy to be there.

He dismisses your worries about him spending money on you, reassuring you every time that he has more money then he knows what to do with.

He’s of course made sure his class schedule lines up with yours perfectly. You think it’s just a coincidence that you get to spend so much time together! You knew he purposely picked some of the same elective classes, but didn’t realize the extent of his influence over his own class schedule.

He sometimes gets a little jealous of your classmates spending time with you, but lets those feelings be released in private. He doesn’t want to scare you away or ruin the privilege of being with you. He knows others deserve to bask in your brilliance and overwhelming energy too, knows that he can’t expect to hoard such a glowing Hope all to himself, but it bites at him. Of course everyone else wants you too. He’s delusional about your importance in the vast universe because he’s totally blinded by love. He will misinterpret someone letting you borrow a pencil as flirting or being partners in gym class as something more. He lets this manifest as sadness or trying harder to please you. He may sabotage the “competition” sometimes, but never let you catch on to his meddling.

He could listen to you talk about your hobbies and interests forever. He wants you to show him how to do it, tell him all the backstory, lore, origins of your hyper-fixations or passions. Spending nights on your dorm room floor listening to your favorite musical artists and just eating ramen would mean the world to him.

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m-y-fandoms · 8 months

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#poll #anime poll #gaming poll #genshin impact #overwatch #DBH #detroit become human #hanzo shimada #xingqiu #tighnari #overwatch hanzo #gaming #nerd #genshin #dbh connor

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m-y-fandoms · 9 months

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COMMISSION: Kokichi Ouma dating a taller woman (headcanon list + drabble)

Word Count: 1.4K words approximately

Warnings/Details: SFW was requested, so any NSFW headcanons would have to be a separate piece. Expect fluff, romance, and possible unhealthy relationship elements because it’s Kokichi, but still SFW overall.

(A taller woman is defined here as literally even an inch taller than him, all the way up to a major height difference. I’ve dated a man only an inch shorter than me and definitely noticed that inch difference so we have a wide height range to work with here! I personally am imagining a woman at least a good five inches taller than him in my mind, but again, anyone taller than him in any way would work!)

As friends before you two were officially dating (but he had a crush on you):

Kokichi is definitely the type to tease and pick on the people he likes. It might even be hard to tell he has a crush on you because he’s mischievous and obnoxious with everyone. Depending on your personality type, you might enjoy just having his attention so often or, you might think he hates you or is just trying to bully you.

If you respond by liking the attention or teasing him back, he would get super confident and a little more touchy each time. It would become increasingly obvious that he’s flirting with you.

If you responded by pulling away or getting offended, he would become frustrated. In his mind it would be obvious that he likes you. Why else would he be giving you so much of his precious time and attention??? He would be a little whiny when you responded poorly or eventually feel the need to explain that he really likes you, but he would hate having to explain it. His cheeks would get all red, he’d roll his eyes, talking to you like you’re some idiot for not picking up on his cues.

Kokichi lies to everyone, even himself, so even though he acts like his height doesn’t bother him and even might joke about it sometimes, it probably bothers him at least a tiny bit deep down. He doesn’t make it a focus in his life but doesn’t like when people point it out, even if he plays it off and has a sarcastic rebuttal for them.

Therefore, when he finds himself crushing on you, a woman taller then him, he for sure would use your height to tease you. If he’s going to feel insecure, then everyone’s going to feel insecure. He doesn’t want you to think his height matters/is a flaw, so him teasing you will prove he’s confident in himself, right?

You’d definitely hear a bunch on uncreative jabs and nicknames: tree trunk, giraffe, skyscraper, stretch, bigfoot, lamp-post, daddy long legs, gigantasaurus, Goliath, stilts, rooftop, and so on and so forth.

He might surprise attack you, running and jumping onto your back and latching on. Whether or not this takes you down to the ground or you carry him around like a baby sloth matters little to him.

After you two start dating:

Sometimes, he will like to prove implicitly that he is not weak and not to be looked down upon for his size…

When you two are alone, he sometimes will pull at your hair or the collar of your shirt to bring you down to his height so he can kiss you or whisper in your ear.

He likes to put you in physically uncomfortable positions to fluster and corner you. Feeling like he’s in control and can make you nervous excites him.

He will corner you in hallways, push you up against walls and trap you in between his arms.

He’s much stronger then he looks, but like with most aspects of Kokichi, what you see initially, isn’t always what you get.

When you two are alone in his room, he will cage you below him on his bed to kiss you, hold you down, be more assertive and initiate make-out sessions.

If you’re sitting together talking or playing games, he might pull you onto his lap, reassuring you in his own immature, aloof way that you’re not too heavy for him.

The teasing never stops, and certainly not in public. Kokichi isn’t one to bring down his walls and be vulnerable and romantic in front of others. Protective, possessive, or jealous maybe. He reserves his true feelings and mushy moments for when you two are alone, and threatens you with death should you tell anyone.

If he does let out some PDA with you, it’s purposely to fluster you or scare away others that he thinks are interested in you.

Also, he’s very much the “Only I can make fun of Y/N” or “Only I can hold Y/N’s hand” type of boyfriend, especially if you’re insecure about your height already. He gets clingy and jealous even when you’re just being platonic with others.

You were sitting in your dorm room for once. Usually, you found yourself spending the night in Kokichi’s, but he was being rather secretive about his room for some reason this week. You sat next to him on the ground, looking at a splayed out deck of cards on the floor. You often spent the nights like this: with him, either wandering the school grounds and getting up to trouble or in his room where he could have you all to himself. He could be selfish like that, clingy. Sometimes seeing others get close to you made him more jealous than he’d like to admit.

And you could most definitely tell when it was one of his more needy days. He’d be more whiny, showing his true feelings through a furrowed brow here or a scrunched nose there. He sighed, tired of leaning his head onto your shoulder. He wanted more, more contact with you, more of you entirely. Without warning, he grabbed both hands firmly onto your legs and pulled you into his lap. He was sitting with his legs criss-crossed, and with an unexpected show of strength for someone of his size, he sunk his slender, pale fingers into the meat of your thighs and slid you effortlessly into his lap. He snuggled you in and you slotted perfectly into the cavity of his hips and thighs.

You squirmed in protest, gasping a little at the surprise of being lifted so suddenly. Your cheeks warmed up at the close contact and intimate position. He placed his chin back onto your shoulder, nuzzling against it every so often and resumed the game, handing you cards and promising not to cheat and peek at your hand (probably a lie).

When moments passed and you still squirmed about uncomfortably in his lap, he grunted, irate:

“Sit still, I’m trying to get comfortable!” He tilted his head, biting down into the skin of your shoulder in a childish display of frustration.

“Well… Kokichi… aren’t I a little heavily? Are you sure you want me to sit here like this…?” You finally voiced the apprehension behind your wriggling. You were bigger then him, and his frame was so lithe and petite. You felt like a beast crushing it’s prey. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the closeness and his touch, but you couldn’t help but feel self conscious.

“Why would I put you here if I didn’t want it, stupid head?!” He puffed his cheeks out in exasperation.

“It just… I mean I feel like I’m grating your pelvis into dust right now…” He wouldn’t say it directly, but he hated comments like this. Though he knew it was your own insecurities against yourself at work, he couldn’t help but be offended for himself, like you thought he was puny and weak at the same time. You would never say that to Gonta or Kaito, right? Even Kiyo, who was thin as could be would be spared from such comments. Why? Because he was 6’2”. Kokichi frowned at your comment, trying not to take out that anger on you, though he really wanted to.

“If you move even an inch, I’m going to bonk you over the head and knock you out…” he grumbled, wrapping both arms around your torso and crushing you into his chest in a show of dominance. He wanted to prove that he could hold you, he could be strong and in control, he could handle all of you.

You relaxed into his hold, feeling the beating of his heart against your back and deciding to let the topic go for now.

BONUS: In a NON-DESPAIR AU

He gets pissed, crossing his arms and practically steaming when you guys go to amusement parks and people imply that he’s not tall enough for certain rides.

He finds your body super attractive, content to sit back and simply watch you try on clothes without complaint.

He refers to you as his “tall gf” or “huge gf” in many different scenarios, even if you’re just the least bit taller than him.

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m-y-fandoms · 9 months

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Out of all that you have written which fic is your favorite?

The V3 Boys x Reader where the reader flinches during an argument is my most popular but it’s my favorite because it’s my most well written. I did it on full sleep and put all my effort into it.

Other then that, any time I get to write Fuyuhiko it’s a favorite. I don’t even know why but every time I write Fuyuhiko I feel like it’s more quality and the plot is better then other things I write around the same time. Maybe Fuyuhiko is just super good for angst/tsundere into lovers. I love the character as well.

#ask #info #personal #danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #reader insert #x reader #super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa v3 #fanfiction #danganronpa killing harmony #sdr2 goodbye despair #angst #danganronpa fuyuhiko #dr v3

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m-y-fandoms · 10 months

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Hello i just wanna say how i really like your writing i think you get the characters so right even the ones who didn't show up a lot which i think is really impressive! I hope you're doing well🤍🤍

Thank you! I hope you’re doing well too.

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m-y-fandoms · 10 months

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Just an update for my followers:

I’m pregnant, I have a job outside this blog and rent to pay, so for now, free requests are closed but inbox is open for other things like questions and comments. If I feel like writing something small for myself and have time I’ll post it. Most likely Genshin, Overwatch, Baldur’s Gate or Danganronpa content at this time!

Commissions are open exclusively for now. I’m just too busy, tired, and lacking in funds to keep doing free requests at the moment. I vastly appreciate my commission clients. Thank you all for your support! Thank you casual readers too! You mean the world!

I have white a few writing commissions in the works at the moment! You can look forward to that.

#update #danganronpa #writing commissions #fanfiction commission #genshin impact #writer #blog update #important #info #fanfiction #commissions open

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m-y-fandoms · 11 months

Text

COMMISSION: TW - DRV3 Boys Stop You from Committing Suicide (good endings)

DRV3 SPOILERS INCLUDED IN SOME SECTIONS and unlike the SDR2 version, all sections take place in the killing game/game world and none are in a non-despair AU, though death order/order that the academy floors and new areas are unlocked may be messed with a little.

Word Count: 10K Words

TRIGGER Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THESE TYPES OF SCENARIOS. All sections are angst or depressing but end with the character comforting the reader or saving them and the reader’s plan isn’t successful. Self-harm and plans of suicide are discussed and detailed. Themes like cutting, knives, jumping from high places, poison, poor mental health, and more are included. PLEASE KEEP IN MIND DANGANRONPA IS RATED M for 17+ and canonically includes themes of murder and suicide. You are responsible for the media you consume. Keep reading below with these warnings in mind if you so choose.

Kaito Momota:

Kaito wouldn’t normally name patrolling the academy’s grounds and halls late at night as one of his favorite activities, but ever since Ryoma was killed… he felt the need to. You and Shuichi were his sidekicks of course, but a real man needed to give his sidekicks something to look up to, aspire to. He was, of course, avoiding restricted and forbidden nighttime areas, but nonetheless he diligently strutted about, ears and eyes open and ready to catch any questionable behavior.

Ryoma’s trial hit Kaito harder than he was willing to admit. With how much respect and internal admiration he held for the sports prodigy, to see him not only fall so far from grace by giving up on life (the complete opposite of Kaito’s mantra, values and minset), but to see him taken out in such a cruel and humiliating way realy shook Kaito. He kept up the facade of confident, unbothered and brave man, but his closer, more observant friends could tell the whole thing was bothering him. After Kaede, who meant so much to his best friend Shuichi and was an ambitious, positive force for good, and now Ryoma who he’d looked up to, he’d put his foot down: a real man protected his friends. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt, kill, or even take advantage of his friends ever again. He’d decided this after defending his faith in Maki during the second class trial, after consoling Shuichi and yourself, both grieving. It was time to really step it up, even if patrolling at night meant putting himself in danger. A fire had been lit beneath him, and besides, he would be out of the dorms to train and exercise with Shuichi most nights anyway, so might as well do some good for his fellow students while he was out.

While passing by the academy’s pool building, he froze when he heard movement inside, a quiet sort of shuffling and a muffled voice. A shudder - something linked to flashbacks from Ryoma’s horrendous trial mere nights before - ran up his spine and he quickly but quietly moved over to the entrance door, peaking inside to spy on whoever was inside. Why or how anyone could stand going anywhere near the pool after what happened was a mystery to him, so whatever they were doing in there had to be suspicious at best. He was going to find out, and perhaps stop another future blackened in the process.

When he sees you standing on the edge of the pool facing away from him, shoulders slumped and shaking up and down a bit, he slips through the crack in the door and hides behind a huge shelf full of pool supplies nearby silently. From there he merely observed. You of all people, who like Shuichi, was so deeply moved by the graphic execution of Kirumi and the tossing away of Ryoma’s bones like trash, would have more reason that others to stay away from the pool. His mind jumped instantly to the worst-case scenario on instinct: another plot for murder using the pool or gym, but he quickly shook these thoughts off. You were his good friend and he trusted you. Shuichi and even Maki seemed to trust you. You’d never hurt anyone. So why were you here?

Kaito knew just from spending time with you that you could often be melancholy, solitary, locked up in your room for most hours of the day if not with your small group of select friends. You’d been terrified of just living your life since the very start, what with not having your memories then being suddenly thrown into a killing game. Every death, every unfortunate event, every class trial seemed to erode away at you more and more. He often tried to cheer you up, making apparent your potential and skills, trying to force you to see the positives, giving pep talks, pulling you out of your dorm to socialize, but nothing seemed to stick. You always ended up back at square one mentally, just as upset and closed off as the day before. Less and less progress was made each day, too.

As he pondered the sight before him and observed you, you didn’t seem to be preparing any traps, setting up any schemes, no thought-out plots like Kirumi had done days before. You just… stood there, now facing the pool and looking over the edge. Now he knew why your shoulders were shaking. You were crying. Honestly, he’d seen you cry many times in the last few weeks so he wasn't stirred into action just yet, but as you seemed to sway a little too far forward over the edge of the pool, rocking back and forth on your feet, his concern grew. Entering the pool building was allowed at night, but actually jumping in, touching the water after dark was strictly forbidden. It was punishable by death, and that death would be as agonizing and drawn out as Monokuma chose to make it that day. You were all at his mercy at all times. You knew that, everyone did, and now here you were, dangerously teetering over the water’s edge. How easy it would be for you to just, stumble in, slip and fall…

At this point, Kaito was desperately hoping you were crying because you did in fact have a murder plot guilting your conscience or because you were simply still in mourning over Ryoma and Kirumi. Those two scenarios would be easy to talk you out of, to be there for you like always. He would have plenty of time if that were the case. He was perhaps… a bit overconfident in his abilities. He didn’t even want to consider the third option mulling around in his mind… that on was more… uncomfortable, immediate.

“I’m sorry, mom and dad, wherever you are…” You finally spoke, turning his focus back on you and out of his own head. “I’m sorry Shuichi, Maki, Kaito… I j-just,” you cried, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You took a deep breath, and what would happen next if he didn’t stop you flashed before his eyes: Exisals, tearing you apart, crushing you, the blood, the screams as they appeared and tore you from the pool, the academy-wide blaring alarms, your classmates leaving their beds half-awake and rushing to the pool to discover the gruesome scene.

You leaned forward, tipped off your balance, center of gravity shifted, and he lunged, yelling out your name as he left his position hidden in the corner and bolted with the gift of an adrenaline rush boosting his steps. He grabbed you around the waist, tackling you and throwing you back and away from the pool, and you both crashed onto the hard tile behind you. Before you could process what was happening you found yourself on the ground, Kaito spooning your body and panting heavily into your ear. Where had he even come from?

“Are you nuts?!” Kaito yelled through ragged breaths. The man was quite athletic, out of breath from anxiety and shock, not physical strain. Wrenched back to reality, you were suddenly overcome with a wave of intense embarrassment. No one was supposed to witness your moment of extreme weakness like this, especially not someone you cared about and respected.

“Kaito?! I-”

“I knew you were doing pretty shitty, but I didn’t know it was this bad! Why wouldn’t you come to me, to Shuichi or… somebody? We would’ve talked you out of this stupid idea!” His vice-like grip around your waist was unwavering, as if he couldn’t trust you to govern yourself at present, as if you would leap again if he relented.

“I’m sorry… it was… I wasn’t thinking. It was a last second plan, an impulse. I just… it hurts so bad, I let my thoughts take over.” He could hear the tears returning to your voice, shaking your words and softened his own. He could be passionate, overbearing at times even, but that probably wasn’t what you needed right now. He could be very stubborn, reluctant to change his methods and habits, but this was serious. He grunted in frsutration.

“You saw what happened to Ryoma when he gave in… when he gave up on life.” His knuckles tightened, fists tightening into themselves until they turned white. “Are you gonna let that happen to you too, my deputy sidekick?” The pain you gleaned from behind his words only made you sob harder. You felt like you’d let him down, almost caused him to grieve for you like you’d all been grieving for the four you’d already lost. How could you add to your peers’ emotion burden like that? “Hey… geez, come on Y/N… I know we can work through this. Let us help you… let me help. There’s no wound out there that the support of the people that care about you can’t heal!”

Ryoma Hoshi:

You’d been feeling endlessly hopeless lately. The violent nightmares weren’t helping, nor was the attitude of your best friend, Ryoma. A noxious void was swallowing up your will to live piece by piece with each day that passed in this hellhole of an academy, trapped in this killing game. It seemed that your friend was right there with you, and although you couldn’t blame him, knowing he was prone to solemn solidarity already as core part of his personality, his moods only seemed to worsen your own. They bounced off of each other, multiplied when you were together, but he was the only person you cared about or trusted in this prison, so the vicious cycle continued. Any time you were together these days, you were bogged down in an echo chamber of despair. There was a brief period where Ryoma appeared to have a small fire ignited in his heart, a period where he was willing to give life a real honest try, but now the gloom was back in full force ever since those damned motive video Monopads had been introduced into your lives. A few days had passed in a big tizzy about who��s Monopad was where, who watched theirs and most were mixed and matched, sent out to the wrong student, but for some reason… you felt like Ryoma had viewed his own, and he did not like what he had seen. It was almost worse seeing your friend long for death then feeling it inside for yourself. You’d started keeping to yourself to avoid seeing it, selfish as that may be.

On one particularly dismal mental health day, you were in his research lab while he was away, trying to get your mind off of dark thoughts, maybe play tennis with the wall. Bouncing the ball off and hitting with a racket as hard as you could could be therapeutic. Maybe that was how Ryoma blew off steam at times. Miu Iruma was there in the lab with you, paying you no mind, obsessed with the sporting machines and how they functioned. Miu loved tinkering ceaselessly with any electronics and gadgets she could find, both inside her own research lab and around the academy. She rarely asked permission to enter other’s labs to do so. She wanted to know how everything worked and it brought her great joy. Your ominous desires taking over, you began to question her. Interestingly, one of the only times she wasn’t a totally vulgar, aggressive bitch was when she was engrossed in her work. She would still snap here and there and slip in inappropriate jokes, but she was much more sufferable. She loved when others asked her to explain something, any chance she got to flaunt her vast wealth of knowledge. She described some of the basic functions of the ball-launching machines: how to change the velocity, the maximum amount of tennis balls one could pelt in a certain timeframe, how to change its direction, how to use the auto-timer or stop all movement with the press of a button. She didn’t even question why you cared, as long as she got to look like the smartest person in the room. Good, you thought. You didn’t want anyone suspecting a thing when you came later to hopefully put an end to your participation in this killing game for good. You didn’t care what was on your motive video at this point. You didn’t even have the energy to find out who had it. You just wanted… out.

Later that night, with your mind in a stupor, body nearly on autopilot, you returned to the research lab, now empty save for yourself, to put the tennis machines on autopilot themselves. Unsurprisingly for a bear as evil and twisted as Monokuma, he’d set up the lab equipment to be able to work at extremely dangerous speeds, speeds powerful and torrential enough to maim or even kill someone. Miu had looked both fascinated and horrified upon discovering this earlier. You used this setting to your advantage, placing a timer and setting the machine to its maximum velocity. You’d loaded up the tennis balls, tons of them, and angled multiple machines to target one specific corner of the room. This would work. Anything to feel something, or die trying. Hopefully all of it, all the pain, would all end tonight.

You stepped back, machines prepped to boundlessly and without hesitation do their dark work. You stood in the corner, counting down in your head, ready for what you’d unleashed on yourself. The machines booted up, beginning to whir with the effort of getting to the input speed. You closed your eyes and prepared for an impact that would never come.

Like a flash, a blur of motion so fast it was near unseeable, Ryoma appeared before you, racket in hand, and knocked the incoming balls away from you with ease. One after the other, with inhuman speed he reflected them back toward the machines with the amount of skill and prowess that earned him the title of the Ultimate Tennis Pro in the first place. It was extraordinary. You were sure only he could manage such a feat. You gasp, opening your eyes at the noise in front of you and startled by the sight. With a grunt of effort, he grabs you with his free hand and throws you with all of his strength out of the corner. He ducks, jumping out of the way and onto the ground beside you. The machines continued to pelt the now empty corner of the room faithfully, just as commanded, the booming repetitive sound echoing off the walls of the research lab.

Eventually, minutes later, all sound ceased as the machines ran out of ammunition and therefore shut themselves off. You both lay splayed across the cold floor, silent as the grave. This was so delicate of a situation now, so severe and tense. What was there to say? How did one begin? Only your inhales and exhales filled the dim room, dozens of yellow fuzzy tennis balls scattered around your still forms. Finally, you spoke:

“Where did you come from?” You whispered, heart thumping wildly in your chest. He sighed in reply.

“It’s late, I always come to my lab around this hour, for some alone time… I came just in time to catch you doing something stupid, it seems…” Silence filled the room once again as you both just sat there soaking in his words, and you valued it, time spent with your best friend where you weren’t absorbing each other’s hopelessness and amplifying it. There was a different mood in the air now, an aura of understanding, of caring about what happens to the person next to you for the first time in weeks, even if it was mixed with guilt and embarassment.

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke up again when you refused to, “I guess I haven’t given you much to look up to as of late…” He rolled over, facing away from you, staring into the wall in shame. “I’ll set a better example, try harder… if only for your sake.” The deep rumble of his bassy voice filled the room.

His motive video stated quite plainly that there was no one in his life to live for, no one to care about or who cared about him in turn. When he saw you in front of those death machines your life in peril, he knew that was a lie.

Korekiyo Shinguuji:

Below you were nearly eight floors of priceless, dusty artifacts, research and excavation tools, bones, books. Around you were alcoves and shelves, display cases and crates full of history and knowledge. Korekiyo’s research lab was much like himself: complex, dark and mysterious, vertically blessed and intimidating. It was like when people drew an object as a personified character using the object’s traits; his lab looked like an architect stalked Kiyo for months and modeled a room after the man. Monokuma was many things, but inattentive was not one of them, even if he feigned ignorance at times. This lab, perhaps even more than the others (which were still detailed and impressive in their own right) molded so seamlessly into the character and talents of its owner. Even the color scheme of the room matched his uniform, and the atmosphere matched his energy. The room smelled like an ancient library, a museum. It smelled how Kiyo looked.

You peered down at the eight story drop below you, the many stairs before you daunting and suffocating even in the spacious research lab. It was the largest lab by far, and the fall to the bottom would most likely kill you. Just in case, you’d taken the oppurtunity to place a large pile of whatever sharp and more dangerous items you could find in the lab at the bottom, compiling a makeshift deathtrap to ensure this went as planned. There was a katana, carving tools, ritual knives, tribal spears, needles and more.

You were acutely aware of your own breathing, especially in a echoey, dusty chamber like this. It was quiet and menacing, again like its host, who conveniently was not here at present. You’d chosen a time when Korekiyo seemed to be out and slinking about the academy, unsettling the other students no doubt or lecturing them about human history and traditions. It was a lucky last minute plan. Fate must want this, you thought. This must be the right thing to do… Kiyo had barely left this place since it’d opened, too enraptured by its contents to leave, so for him to not be here at this perfect time for your plan to commence, it must have been a work of fate. Your head felt light, like your body was trying to relax and numb itself, to accept what you were about to do. You closed your eyes, swaying calmly back and forth over the railing.

Suddenly, there was a firm hand on your shoulder. Your eyes flashed open, your blood running cold in your veins. Korekiyo, perhaps Kokichi… it had to be one of those two. You couldn’t think of one other classmate, not one, who could or would sneak in the shadows and reappear unseen and unheard but those two. They were both creeps in their own unique ways. Slowly, you turned to see the face behind the hand, and found it half-covered by a dark mask.

“Kiyo…” You acknowledge him with a nod, as if you weren’t up to something dubious… in his lab… without his permission. You looked into his glowing yellow eyes and found sadness in them, extremely expressive. They often were, they had to be when his jaw, his mouth could never convey his feelings to his peers. Kiyo couldn’t flare his nostrils, clench his teeth to signal to others. Maybe that was part of the mystery, part of what scared others about him. Humans often needed emotions, facial cues, body language to communicate, to feel safe and understood in each other’s presence. WIth Kiyo, much could be left up to interpretation.

“It seems some of my artifacts have been misplaced…” He mused, the bandaged hand on your shoulder moving off to cradle his own chin, as if he were puzzled about the situation. “Hmmm… were you perhaps studying some of them and left that mess down there?” He nodded in the direction of the pile, arms crossing over his chest like the disapproving mother of a child who forgot to clean their room.

“I’m really sorry, Kiyo…” You turned your head back to stare forward blankly at the wall across from you, unable to meet his eyes any longer. You felt embarrassed, ashamed that you’d not only been caught pre-attempt, but that you’d made a mess of items you knew the anthropologist held so dear.

“It’s quite alright. I sometimes get lost in my work and studies, too, even forgetting to sleep some nights. The contents of this lab can lead to endless hours of fun, yes? I know you meant no harm by it, unlike some more mischevious classmates of ours.” He giggled gaily beneath the mask. “Speaking of sleep, it's quite late. I know the quest for knowledge is endless, but you must be exhausted.” He of course knew what you were really planning to do here tonight. He was a highly intelligent young man, and someone would have to be blind to not pick up on your intentions. However, he had no desire to embarrass you further, and frankly wanted this all to end as soon as possible, so this little scenario would be swept under the rug in favor of a story less dismal.

“Y-yeah…” You nod, playing along, expressionless and empty inside.

If it were anyone else, he probably would’ve torn them apart for touching his artifacts without his permission, much less mishandling them and leaving them in a cluttery heap on the floor. Perhaps it was the small friendship you’d gradually formed with him that spared you from this fate. You were always curious about his interests and talent, willing to learn, to listen to him talk for hours. You weren’t judgmental like some, talking about him behind his back, cutting him off mid-explanation because you were bored, obviously creeped out by his presence. Yes, he would let his offense go, if only to justify the belief that you deserved a more beautiful, dignified death later on. This wouldn’t do at all, falling pathetically to your death, not for someone like you. You at least deserved more than that he supposed, and yet, your blood decorating his artifacts, your body splayed out in a contorted position over them… that could’ve been beautiful in its own way, too. He hadn’t decided fully yet…

Taking your hand in his long slender, the scholar began to guide you, dragging your rather heavy feet behind him down the crimson stairs. You passed floor by floor until he guided you to the base level, and you let him. Again, fate must have wanted this, to stop you in time, to allow Korekiyo to interfere.

Kokichi Ouma:

You didn’t want to be here, tucked under a metal shelf in the Exisal hangar, cramped and uncomfortable for what felt like hours but yet here you were, waiting for Kokichi to come “seek” your “hide” in this stupid, childish game he loved to play. The academy was the perfect setting for an epic game of hide-and-seek you’d admit, with countless areas to hide and not be found for days, but you were in no mood for playing. You’d been rapidly declining, pushed further and further into the recesses of your own depressed mind with each passing day. You just wanted to lay in your dorm room and cry, sulk, sleep. Kokichi knew that, and yet he loved to drag you out and about for his pointless antics or little trickster schemes on the daily. Even now, as he became more and more unhinged after each class trial, he still involved you in his malicious and sometimes even dangerous plans. You tolerated his immature, hyper, selfish, sporadic, volatile personality - which was insufferable to most - because he was your best if not only friend on campus. Even if the others would say they liked you, no one really hung out with you or paid you any mind, never wanted to know you on any level deeper than acquaintances who made polite conversation during free time or cooperated during class trials. You didn’t consider them friends. You considered Kokichi a close friend. You really didn’t know why he was even interested in you in the first place. You found yourself introverted, boring and awkward, but nonetheless you accepted and even secretly cherished his attention and friendship. He was probably just using you for a long con, a means to an end, but still…

No… today you’d had enough, getting angrier and angrier by the second squashed into that little area under the shelf, your spine aching. Being here alone in the silence, it only left you to your dreary thoughts, gave you the opportunity to dwell on the past three class trials, the death and despair that seemed in constant supply here. You decided you could do that in the comfort of your own bed, warm under the duvet in your dorm room and not contorted into a pretzel on the dirty floor. Screw this, your mind spoke to you, making the decision at once. You huffed, standing and brushing off your uniform. You were fed up, tired of waiting on a kid who clearly didn’t care about you. You felt like you were in denial, seeing your connection with Kokichi as “friendship” when he probably was just using you as a toy because no one else would let him use them. You didn’t feel like a priority to him. He was probably bored and had given up on looking for you, again, prone to changes of his mood and plans on a whim. He was really good at seeking, he was good at most things he enjoyed… surely it wasn’t taking this long. He must have abandoned you.

This was the last straw… even your only friend didn’t think you were worth his time, even when you’d clearly been going through some shit mentally. Kokichi was smarter than people gave him credit for. He knew you were in agony inside, and still he’d done this to you?

Before you could make your way back to your room, something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. A hydraulic press, no doubt used to compress and scrap broken-down and useless Exisals, seemed to glimmer and shine over on the other side of the room. It seemed to be calling to you, begging to be used, honored to be your release from this world. Sighing with the weight of months of desolation on your shoulders, your body seemed to go into some sort of autonomous mode. You were like a zombie, feeling nothing anymore as you made your way over to the control panel up on a platform next to the press. You passed by dirty shelves, oil and paint cans, tons of lined up inactive Exisals on the way there, stepping up the small incline to the panel and looking over it without hesitation or self preservation in mind.

Quickly, you scan the buttons, knobs and latches until you find the safety features. Without a second thought you switched off all automatic safety settings available to you. For good measure you pulled out the thick wires corresponding to the safety features on the control panel. Now, you would be able to manually send the press into closing all the way down, firmly and snugly. The press was designed to cease all movement automatically if it sensed a living being inside, but now, it would keep going regardless unless manually turned off. You flipped a switch and the machine roared to life, slowly beginning its long, crushing descent. You promptly moved the short distance over to the long, flat press and let your back lay flat against the cold, unfeeling metal.

You thought you’d be scared, but you felt nothing still. It felt like laying in your bed like always, mind empty, heart heavy. It was just another night. You thought you’d lose your conviction, chicken out; that’s what a normal person would do. Fear of death was normal. Your lack of emotion just proved even further that this was the best option for you, in your mind at least. You zoned out, pushing out all surrounding smells, sounds, and sights. There was only you and the silver slab above you. You were at peace, or at least your body didn’t protest or work to save itself. Folding your hands over your chest, you closed your eyes and resigned yourself to your fate as the press drew closer to your face.

Your ears perk up when you hear a sudden clicking sound so close by that it breaks through your barrier of dissociation. Your eyes flash open, a bit perturbed at the cease of motion above you. You were positive you turned off the setting correctly, and yet the press was unmoving.

Before you have time to even process the interruption, your left arm is being snatched by the elbow, and not too gently either. A claw-like, unforgiving grip around your arm pulls you sideways off of the press and you groan when your ass hits the solid ground below. You look at your assailant, surprised that someone his size could be that strong. Much like his true intentions or level of intelligence, it might have just been another thing he’s hidden from the world.

“Kokichi?” The petite boy sunk down on the ground next to you like his knees had given out, bawling his eyes out. You look at him in surprise, not having even heard him enter the hangar. By all means you should’ve, with the loud metal door that groans and hisses when it opens. You must’ve been really out of it.

“Yeah… of course it’s me, idiot!” He spat, showing you no mercy. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! This is not how you play hide-and-seek!” He was absolutely furious, face red as a tomato as he yelled in your face.

You’re both limp piles of flesh on the ground, emotional and collapsing into yourselves for different reasons. Kokichi leapt forward, throwing his arms around your shoulders and crumbling into you, his body molding into yours. His weight crashing into you nearly toppled you over, and he clung to you, snotty and sobbing like a little kid. His fingers dug into your back like nails, clutching to you like his life depended on it. You were speechless. You’d never seen such real, raw emotion from Kokichi. He loved to lie, to put on a performance and was good at fake crying, but you could tell this was real. He’d never reacted to the loss of any of your classmates like this. He continued to berate you, showing his fear of losing you in his own… unique way.

I guess he really did care after all.

Rantarou Amami:

Rantarou often took strolls around the academy grounds at night to clear his head. The air was crisp and refreshing, there were interesting things to see, and if he truly got bored of just walking and looking, he could always hit up the casino for some late-night fun to pass the time. Mostly though, he just needed the quiet time alone to think, to process his thoughts from that day and plan the next.

Passing the dorms and heading toward the entrance to the main building of the academy, he shuffled to a standstill when his eyes caught sight of something strange. Up high on the rooftop, he spotted something that was definitely out of place, not there on his usual nightly walk. He could barely make out the shape of a human form, standing up there all alone. He squinted, trying to focus in on it. The grounds were pretty well lit, but nobody was ever up on the roof to his knowledge, so it made sense that not many lights were installed way up there. Yep, it was definitely a person: not big or wide enough to be an Exisal or small enough to be a bear. Curious almost to a fault, Rantarou decided immediately to check it out. It took a lot of figuring out which stairwell led where, which floor of the academy was blocked off and so on to find the door to the roof. Really, there wasn’t much up there, it was just a flat, levelled surface so there was no appeal, no need for the students to use it. Well… in this killing game, there were probably plenty of uses for the dangerously high-up, rarely visited, unrailed rooftop, but none of them were good.

When he closes the door behind him and sees, now up close, that the human form that was visible from the ground is you, standing on the edge of the roof, he sighs. He was really hoping on his trek up here that it wasn’t going to be you. Unfortunately, his gut said it would be, and that made him rush up to the roof all the quicker. Anyone else might have genuinely been up there for fresh air or the view, but Rantarou knew you… he knew you’d been going a rough time, the whole group knew it. Some of your fellow prisoners at the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles made fun of you for being so mopey all the time, calling you emo or a buzzkill. Kokichi teased that you and Shuichi would be a perfect match, that you could “be little bitches together,” crying all day, wearing all black and so on. He was ruthless.

Rantarou knew why you were up there, what could happen to you that night if he didn’t intervene. Preparing himself mentally, he gently approached you, slowly and cautiously as to not spook you off of the ledge.

“H-hey? Um, what’s up Y/N?” The air up there was extra chilly, and that mixed with the apprehension about how the next few moments would go had him throwing his hands into his pockets, immensely uncomfortable. Knowing you were no longer alone, you stepped back from the ledge, wrapping your arms around your middle as you turned to face him. He didn’t miss it when your expression went from a dead-inside indifference to anxious surprise when you saw him.

“Rantarou? Hey…” you spoke unenthusiastically, clearly intending to spend what may have been your last night on Earth alone.

“Stargazing, huh?” He laughed nervously, trying to play off the severity of the potentially dire situation. The goal was to descalate your suicidal thoughts if you indeed had any as he suspected, to let you know you weren’t alone, physically or emotionally. “If so, there are way better places on campus to do it!”

“Oh… yeah,” you replied with a forced, pathetic little laugh. You stepped closer toward him. It seemed like you were already losing conviction in your choice to jump. Good. Those second thoughts were good. Doubts were good. You obviously weren’t too far gone, or you probably would’ve jumped regardless of him watching - not caring, not regretting, not feeling anything.

“Can I chill up here with you? Walkin’ around all alone at night’s gettin’ kinda boring. I mean, I’ve seen everything on campus a million times. It would be a nice change of routine.” He smiled hopefully, pressuring you into accepting. You nod in response and the two of you sat and “stargazed” for a long while, eventually shifting to lay down on the hard, dirty concrete of the rooftop and stare up into the sky.

“You can’t… really see much…” you grumbled after a long silence.

“Hmmm? Oh yeah, the campus is pretty well lit so not many stars are gonna show. It sucks, but I kinda like just laying here. It’s nice: the silence, doing nothing. Our days are pretty stressful, you know?” Oh, you knew. The stress of the killing game, wondering if you were going to die that day, trying to figure out mystery after puzzle, trying to recall memories… it was what sent you into this spiral in the first place.

You let Rantarou carry the conversation from there. He attempted to enthuse you with tales of his travels, trying to make life sound adventurous, the world worth living for. Some of it did in fact entertain you, catching your attention, but mainly what shook you was Rantarou opening up to you freely when he was known by the group to be pleasant but quite secretive about his past, even unintentionally. You’d all lost some of your memories, but he was even more of a mystery than others. You couldn’t help but feel a bit moved, a bit warmed by the fact that he wanted to reveal more of himself to you. He spoke for a long while, telling long stories of his past for the next hour or so before letting the interaction fade into a more comfortable silence. Eventually though, he knew he would have to acknowledge it, to get to the hard part.

“Hey… uh… I just wanna let you know that I’ve been there before… some really rough shit in life, you know?” He turned his head to look directly at you, no longer caring about the stars sprinkled sparsely above. “Don’t do it… It’s never gonna be worth it.”

Gonta Gokuhara:

“Y/N??? What happen?!” Gonta was kneeling in front of you, a nervous wreck.

This was not how this was supposed to go. How did he… of all people find you??? How could anyone?

You were tucked away in a dark hallway, a few floors up in an area of the academy hardly anyone used. This section was decorated in cobwebs, loose boards, unfinished paint. This floor unlocked because there were some research labs up here, but this in particular was a wing that was a far walk to the other side of the floor and this area was mostly untouched, or rather, abandoned. Monokuma and the Kubs obviously didn’t plan to do anything with it and had even blocked it off lazily with some loose tape. The bears were never seen here, and you thought the first time you broke past the tape that an Exisal or five would show up to crush you for breaking some rule, but when nothing happened, you decided to make this your own little spot for when you just needed a break from it all. This world, the academy, the killing game, it all became far too much very quickly.

This hallway had a high archway and a large round window looking out. There was a beautiful view of the moon from this dramatic looking window, and you wanted it to be your last view. Here in your secret place, you thought, even if someone did discover you in the morning or days from now, you’d be long gone. This was a good spot, but what was happening now was not part of the plan… Here you were, blood trickling and a sharp razor to your arm about to cut deep once again when the large man came stomping through the normally silent hallway seemingly on a mission.

You were pulled back into the moment: Gonta was yelling and you were shushing him, a bit light headed and a super panicked. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be just you, alone and done. Not someone like him… he didn’t deserve to see this. Now this was selfish. Now… you couldn’t finish the job.

You didn’t want to hurt him like this. All he ever wanted to do was help others. Gonta was too good, too pure of heart, too selfless. You didn’t want him to deal with this or to think for even a second that he had any fault in it. God forbid he was too late to stop it and you bled out anyway. He would blame himself forever. You didn’t want to expose him to this. You tried to distract him, which in normal daily conversation proved easy to do.

“Gonta, what are you doing here?” You tossed the razor to the ground and tried to hold your arm somewhat back and out of his direct line of sight, but he kept looking at it regardless, clearly focused on one thing at the moment.

“W-well, normally Gonta go to his lab at this time every night, check on bugs between sleeping, make sure they’re safe! But… tonight, Kokichi stop Gonta outside Gonta’s lab and say our friend Y/N is in trouble! Gonta had to come right away to help!” Kokichi… that little shit! How did he even know? He seemed to know everything that happened around campus, like he was always lurking about in the shadows. He knew everyone’s secrets, was up in everyone’s business like it was his job. You hadn’t even seen him anywhere near you tonight… Was he truly that far ahead of everyone else? Why would he do this to Gonta, though? You wouldn’t even pretend to know how his twisted little mind worked.

“Oh, well I’m fine, Gonta, honestly…” You pulled down your uniform sleeve, hoping that covering the open wounds would lessen the seriousness of the moment.

“Y/N not fine! Let Gonta help!” Sputtering and an anxious mess, Gonta, who assumed this was all a big misunderstanding, an accident, insisted you follow him to his lab, or he’d even carry you if it hurt too much or you felt too weak. You knew he wasn’t going to simply let this go and walk away, so you sighed and conceded, allowing him to guide you all the way to his bug-filled research lab before he could escalate this to an even louder ruckus that possibly drew others to the scene.

He happily explained that he had some basic first aid and medical supplies in there, that Monokuma adapted a side area to be kind of like the environment Gonta grew up in but in his own… less sophisticated way of speaking. He also had some more advanced first aid tools that he’d collected and stored from the warehouse on the first floor just in case his bugs friends or human friends needed his help (bless his heart). He knew of basic bandaging and wound-cleaning methods from his time growing up in the wilderness. It was survival of the fittest out there.

He dutifully got your arm all fixed up and padded the wound so even if your arm bumped into something lightly while you slept that night, you wouldn’t feel it. He joyfully talked your ear off, never aware of the true intent behind your actions that night. He was simply happy to help, to save his friend at any cost.

Shuichi Saihara:

When you awoke, you found yourself staring at the ceiling of your dorm room, mind groggy and eyes bleary. A pounding headache greeted you along with a tightness in your lungs. A feeling of pins and needles spread through your extremities as you slowly sat up. You were in your bed… Did it not work? Huh? The light above stung your eyes and as you looked around, you finally noticed Shuichi by your bedside. His eyes were red and puffy underneath, like he’d been crying recently.

“Shuichi? Is this real? Why am I-” you began, throat hoarse and raw.

“Alive? I found you on the floor of my research lab… the bottle was nearby.” He looked disappointed, disheartened, exhausted. “I forced the antidote down your throat… anything to get it into your system. Maki helped me carry you here. She’ll be back with food eventually, we were planning on taking shifts…” You started to stutter, to try and make excuses or apologies but he cut you off, nerves obviously fried: “If you knew it was getting this bad, if you felt like this was your only option, you should’ve talked to me, or Maki… or anybody for that matter, anything to prevent this!” His words were breathy, voice giving out as he was starting to get choked up again. He sighed, breath catching in his throat and he held his head in his hands. “Or maybe… we should’ve noticed…” He spoke barely above a whisper, sniffling. A shockwave of guilt and pain shot through your body. You couldn’t let him think that.

“No, Shuichi, this isn’t your fault! This isn’t on anyone but me!” You couldn’t deal with the knowledge that he was feeling in any way guilty about this.

“Poisoning yourself? Do you know how slow that would’ve been, how painful? Did you even read the label on the specific posion you chose? You would’ve gone in and out of consciousness most likely, each time waking up in more pain that the last until your body finally gave out. Monokuma designed this stuff, its tortuous and cruel, Y/N.” You’d rarely heard his voice take on this deep, angry tone. “You would’ve felt your body shutting down, paralyzed and powerless to stop the pain. Can you imagine if I hadn’t found you passed out initially and shoved that antidote down your throat? I bet you’re still feeling some side effects regardless.” He shook his head, unable to meet your gaze with his next words. “... Why would you do this to me…? To see my best friend suffer like that!” The tears, hot and angry began to pour freely from the corners of his eyes, his words spat through clenched teeth. He was trying to even out his breaths, fists balled at this side in the chair beside your bed. Seeing your brows furrow in guilt, the emotional pain twisted into your expression when you were already in physical pain, he tried desperately to reel himself in. “I’m sorry. I shoudn’t be angry at you, it’s selfish of me. I just…” He sighed deeply, steadying his breathing.

No, he was right… he’d lost Kaede, you’d all just lost Kaito - the main event that finally pushed you over an edge you’d already been teetering on. You’d almost caused him more irreversible pain. Everyone else who died crushed his spirit of course, but you, Kaito, Kaede, Maki, you guys were so very dear to him. Losing any of you chipped away at his heart and soul, and he didn’t have many pieces left. There was barely enough Shuichi left to keep going. Each trial drained him like an old machine running out of steam. You cared about him, cherished him immeasurably, and yet you almost contributed directly to the destruction and despair the killing game had wrought inside his heart already.

“For some reason, Monokuma said suicide is a viable death for a class trial if the antidote didn’t take. Said he’s seen suicide work before for a trial,” he spoke again to fill the unpleasant void in the air. “It seemed like he really didn’t want me to administer it to you, but I told him since I literally saw it happen, a trial would be boring. A quick trial would be no fun for him, so he seemed to be mulling it over. You know he’s all about entertaining himself… so sick. I was praying, just hoping the antidote worked. I couldn’t have done it, your trial…” Maki interupted his monologuing, entering with a tray of food and water.

“Y/N,” Maki nodded her acknowledgment, showing she cared in her own reserved way. He turned to greet her solemnly, then back to you. “Whatever you need to talk about, I’m here, we are here. Please don’t do anything like this ever again.”

K1B0/Kiibo:

You loved Kiibo and really treasured his friendship, but sometimes he just didn’t seem to get more complex or abstract human concepts. Even something like depression, which wasn’t all that complex on the surface level, seemed to make him uncomfortable and revert into a very robotic state of thinking. Kiibo understood sadness of course, even feeling what he described as sadness on multiple occasions, but the deep, irrational, incurable thing that true depression could sometimes be seemed to be less reachable to him. When you vented or explained the concept, he tried to understand and you two were so close that you went to him before anyone else. You trusted him wholly and bonded after many months spent with him. You could see his gears turning (not literally) when he was trying really hard to understand a new idea or emotion, but sometimes you just wanted to vent and be heard while he wanted to offer practical solutions. He’d search his memory banks for psychological reports, comb the internet looking for the smartest answer, the facts, but the human side he wasn’t seeming to get was that the facts weren’t always what someone wanted or needed when they were feeling down. There was barely any warmth from his “comfort,” even when he tried extremely hard. Deep, excruciating depression seemed to be something he just wasn’t programmed to deal with. Maybe his creator thought he’d never encounter it, or you all got locked up in the academy before it could be added to his knowledge bank. You knew Kiibo could learn and adapt even without previous programming, but sometimes it was hard for him. It felt like asking Google how to solve a depressive episode or a panic attack instead of a friend who should know you and your heart.

On one particular evening, Kiibo found himself searching around the academy for you. You were usually on time to meet up with him, and you’d hang out at the same place every night for the past few months. When a good while passed and you didn’t show up, he went looking for you, a bit worried. You were in a killing game after all. He didn’t want to assume the worst but it would be foolish not to consider the possibility. After clearing the outside areas he moved into the main building, up dusty stairs and across lesser used halls until he came upon a restricted section that Monokuma blocked off for “ normal maintenance.” You all knew this was probably a lie, that the bear probably had something far more sinister than maintenance planned for that section of the school, but no one dared cross the yellow tape and warning signs. The Kubs had threatened you all on punishment of death if you broke the rules by ruining the surprise early and entering the closed off wing. Looking over the tape, the loose boards and dimly lit hall, something was willing him to go, pushing him to check past the tape… his inner voice. He’s never ignored it before, and it’s always been the right choice. Finding a courage he didn’t normally have, he stepped cautiously under the tape, being sure not to rip or alter its placement. Creeping down the hall, he stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded a corner and saw you standing yards behind an Exisal. The deadly machine was clearly on autopilot with no Kub inside, likely just set to perform simple maintenance, guard duty, cleaning or building on its own until its owner returned. Regardless, the thing would probably mindlessly kill any signs of human life it encountered in its owner’s stead, programmed by its creator to carry out punishments on rule breakers in this area. Yet another thing that made Kiibo superior to these types of no-intellect, violent piles of scrap metal. If you were caught, you were likely dead on sight, and he knew that, and he knew you had to know that.

Shuffling up to you warily, he grabs onto your shirt firmly and begins to drag you back and away from the Exisal.

“What are you doing?!” He whispers, inching you both away from the machine and back toward the entrance to the blocked off section. You were pulling away from him, struggling with tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. You wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t alert the Exisal now for fear of putting Kiibo’s life in danger as well, but if you could just convince him to leave, shake him off, maybe… “You shouldn’t be here!” Now a safer distance away from the Exisal, you began to protest verbally. You were mumbling, something like let me do this, I want to die, and was talking over you, solely concerned with getting you both into the clear where you could talk openly. He didn’t want to hear that word right now either: die, or any variation of it. He felt that anxiety, what humans describe as a tightness in the chest or butterflies flying around where his intestines would be. Was this feeling uniquely human?

His uneasiness lessens a tiny bit once he drags you under the tape and now down an unrestricted hall to a nearby bench, but now the uncomfortable talk had to begin. He hated this part, hated feeling inadequate and inhuman. He takes your rambling head into his hands and forces you to look at him through the tears.

“This is illogical. This is a most… painful way out! Why would you chose this way? It’s unreasonable. Why would you want to die like that, and who knows how long that thing is programmed to drag it out. Monokuma and the Monokubs are cruel to say the least, would dying by a machine they made be a great way to go out?” This was not what you wanted to hear. He was doing it again, another analytical, logical answer. You began to weep even harder, the frustration doubling at his words. You wanted to punch him in the face right now. He didn’t know what to do, eyes bouncing all over your form in confusion and dread like he was looking at a ship that just sprung a leak and was threatening to sink before him. He felt himself overheating like some common computer, ashamed at the useless he felt at that moment.

He didn’t know what to do… he was making it worse! So, he followed his inner voice.

In a panic, before he can think, he simply blurts out:

“I don’t want you to go! I would miss you, and I like having you in my life! I care about you, so please, please don’t do this.” He’s gasping though he doesn’t need to breathe. You find yourself calming down a bit, shaken by his words and quieting down to hear the rest of what he has to say. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you here. You’re my best friend and I have strong feelings for you, ones I never knew I could ever have!” You were shocked. He’d never said anything like this to you before. He takes your hands in his, and it feels right to him, like he’s supposed to do it. “Please, I’m listening. I’ll listen all night if need be.”

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m-y-fandoms · 1 year

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Just wanted to thank you for all the writing you do. They’re not only absorbing but they also help put a fire under my butt to get back into writing Danganronpa, so I thank you both for being an amazing writer but also for inspiring me

Aww thank you 🥹 sorry I don’t post more often life is hectic right now 💕

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m-y-fandoms · 1 year

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COMMISSION: TW - SDR2 Boys Stop You from Committing Suicide (comfort endings)

Some scenarios take place during the DR3//No Despair era at Hope’s Peak and some during the SDR2 island killing game. SDR2 SPOILERS INCLUDED

Word Count: 10K Words

TRIGGER Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THESE TYPES OF SCENARIOS. All sections are angst or depressing but end with the character comforting or saving the reader and the reader’s plan isn’t successful. Self-harm and plans of suicide are discussed and detailed. Situations and objects like drowning, pills, guns, knives, poor mental health, and more are included. PLEASE KEEP IN MIND DANGANRONPA IS RATED M for 17+ and canonically includes themes of murder and suicide. You are responsible for the media you consume. Keep reading below with these warnings in mind if you so choose.

Hajime Hinata

It’d been days without food and you felt like you were officially going crazy. Apparently it wasn’t enough that you’d been forced to see your classmates die in the most painful, cruel ways, betray each other, lie, and scheme, now you had to starve on top of it all? You couldn’t take it anymore: the dryness of your mouth, the grumbling of your stomach. One thing right after another, days turned into weeks of misery, of despair even. But that was Monokuma’s goal all along. You barely ever left your cabin these days, fearing you’d see the worst side of one of your classmates in the form of a swift knife to the back as soon as you stepped out. You barely trusted anyone other than your best friend Hajime anymore. It was so hard to, when you’d trusted Mikan, the meek nurse, Peko, the intelligent and disciplined swordswoman, Nagito, the chill dude putting up an entire act to hide his craziness. Your cabin was always locked with you inside. You hated leaving, and now you were stuck in this damned funhouse, tricked here by that monsterous bear. You felt delirious: mental health declining, hands shaking, mind drifting.

You looked around your room - one of the average rooms in the funhouse’s living quarters - dimly lit like some villain’s secret hidden cave. Scattered around the floor were weapons you’d obtained as a reward for clearing the Final Dead Room, along with scraps of paper lined with scrawled plans and ideas. The ravings of a mad person it would likely seem to anyone else who viewed them.

Your plan seemed simple enough: Kill Nekomaru, make it obvious that it was you, get executed as the blackened and confess and insist, should it not be obvious enough. You wanted people to witness, to be convinced it was you so you could leave this wretched island forever. You felt like you were taking the coward’s way out, but you just couldn’t push yourself to do the job on your own. Maybe you were a coward, but you just wanted out, as soon as possible.

The plan was to make it as painless as as possible for the robot, if he even felt pain. That’s why you chose him as the victim in the first place. Honestly, it was adding to your rapidly plummeting downward mental spiral, the way your peers were treating Nekomaru. It was driving you fucking crazy. They acted as if it was just… normal. None of this was normal. Nekomaru was your friend, flesh and blood, and now he was just this… thing, this metal abomination. It’s not him in there, you’d repeat over and over like a mantra in your head when you saw the bot. It was disrespectful to his memory. Were you the only sane one here, side-eyeing the bot, avoiding him out of discomfort? You found yourself asking: If they uploaded an AI of my personality into a computer, is that me?

No.

It’s not. You all should have just accepted that the real Nekomaru was gone forever. It would be merciful to kill his replacement instead of a real human. It’s wouldn’t even be an actual murder, no guilt on your conscience. Monokuma wouldn’t see it that way though, and that’s all that mattered.

“(Y/N)?” You are shaken out of your mindless planning, sucked out of your thoughts by a knock at your door. Hajime. You recognized his voice and panicked at the state of the room around you. Hajime was a dear, always doing rounds to check on his friends, especially in this particularly stressful situation. As you and he were a closer as friends, he tended to check on you a little more often. You ignored his knocks, sent into an frenzy as you started kicking papers under the bed and hiding as many weapons as you can. You hear the handle jiggle and the door opens quickly behind you. Hajime spared no time when he’d gotten no reply from you. He’d lost too many to take his time anymore. A second too late could mean death for a friend, as he’d learned. You could’ve been dead, passed out from hunger, injured.

He freezes as you turn to face him like a deer in headlights, taking in the insane scene before him. He was definitely looking at the pile of weapons scattered everywhere - definitely noticing how unhinged you looked - and immediately begins questioning you, closing your door behind him for some privacy. It’s when you start stuttering, sputtering out excuses and deflecting that he truly takes in your mental state. You look completely deshelved and unwell, worse than everyone else though you were all starving and on edge.

“Where did you even get all of these?!” He gestures to the murder tools in desperation, just wanting an honest answer from someone he actually trusted. When you reveal the existence of the Octagon beyond the Final Dead Room, he presses you further: “Well what were you planning to do with all of them?” He is apprehensive of your answer. Seeing the genuine look in his eyes that seemed ever-present, you broke down, sighing deeply. You run your hand down your face, defeated,exposed. He sees you visibly sink into yourself as you prepare to finally give it to him straight.

“Look, Hajime, you and I have always been honest with each other. You’re one of the few here I can truly trust so I’m just going to admit what’s going on here… I feel like I owe you that much. I’m not proud of this but…” You hesitate, feeling like finding conviction in your words was an insurmountable task. Your bottom lip began to quiver. You’d held these plans confidently inside your head, but you’d yet to acknowledge them aloud. “... I was going to take a life tonight… I was going to make myself the blackened and then confess, taking someone with me…” Your voice breaks, ashamed of your words.

The room goes quite for a while, as Hajime just stares at you, thinking, not sure what to even say. He hadn’t expected you to be so blunt, though his assumptions were confirmed. You can see his chest heaving in the silence, hearing only and his loud exhales. You’d seen Hajime carry your class through trial after trial, seen him peice together complex evidence. He wasn’t stupid. He inferred in his mind as he stared that your target would be Nekomaru. You see the gears turning in his head. It made sense, as you loved hanging around the boisterous team manager before his transformation, and after… you seemed to avoid him like an ex at a party. He knows… but he doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to have this difficult conversation.

Slowly, so gently, he simply sinks down to your level as you sit there resting on your shins on the ground. He pushes some of the mess aside, looking you in the eyes before wrapping his arms around your starving body. You let him, not moving an inch, taking in his warmth. Maybe this is what was intended for you, maybe you needed only to hear his next words:

“You’re not going to do this, okay?” You feel him nodding, his chin tucked into your shoulder. “I’m going to be here for you, so I need you to be here for me too, right?” Hajime wasn’t always the best at comforting others in his own opinion, but you knew he was trying his best. Rather, others would say he was good at comforting his friends, but he felt awkward while doing so, like he wasn’t built for mushy moments. “We’ll escape this together: you, me, and everybody else. You have to keep trying for them, too. You can’t do that if you’re dead, right?” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood as the stress rolls down his brow in the form of sweat. He felt like cringing at his own words, wondering if he was helping at all. “If you do this, Monokuma wins, and I sure as hell know that you don’t want that. You’re needed here and wanted here, and I know you’re stronger than this.” He feels his shoulder become soaked as your silent tears roll down your face and through his shirt. “H-hey, can I stay here tonight, with you?” He was asking, but you were going to have to physically remove him if you said no.

Nagito Komaeda

You’d been staring down at the knife in your shaking hands for what felt like an hour. In reality, it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. The blade was long, sharp, gleaming silver. How easy it would be to just… end it. You hesitated, thinking about the pain. How much would it hurt, based on the location of insertion? What was the quickest method to just get it over with?

You sighed. You’d miss playing games all night with Chiaki to avoid thinking about more dismal matters. You’d miss discussing true crime with Sonia, late night snack runs with Akane - whom you always felt safe with. Most of all though, you’d miss Nagito, who you’d developed quite the friendship with. His complex thought process and quirky personality fascinated you, and it was never a boring time when he was around. He seemed to like being a loner, always planning or deep inside his own head, but he didn’t seem to mind when you tagged along. In fact, he sometimes remarked that he didn’t deserve your company, and complimented you skills as an Ultimate student. You’d miss knowing someone as unique as him and having them actually enjoy your friendship.

The room around you made you shiver. The ambiance was so cold and hostile. Now past the Final Dead Room, you’d found yourself rewarded by stepping into the Octogon, a hidden room just beyond. Honestly, if you hadn’t picked up better problem-solving skills through trials and the help of your more intelligent friends like Nagito and Hajime, you may have never completed the Final Dead Room. The Octogon, different from the escape room before it, seemed to be a bunker, a weapons cache filled wall to grey wall with deadly tools of every kind. There was even a fridge that contained lethal poisons. When Monokuma described a reward for passing the Final Dead Room, you’d expected a secret passage out of the funhouse, or maybe some food at least. You should’ve known better.

Tearing your eyes away from the knife, you are startled as the door back to the Final Dead Room behind you bursts open. Nagito Komaeda of all people stumbles into the Octogon, his usual casual lanky form slinking in. His expression was carefree, that standard stoner-adjacent look glazed over his face… as if he didn’t just complete a deadly game of Russian roulette to get here.

“Nagito?! What are you doing here?” You panicked, not expected to be walked in on in this vulnerable state.

“I could ask you the same thing, (Y/N)...” He smiled mischeviously. “I followed you here, of course!” Oh yeah, of course! Why hadn’t you thought of that? “Couldn’t let you have all the fun! To my surprise, when I tried to enter the Final Dead Room behind you, Monokuma stopped me and said I had to finish when you were done. Everyone’s expected to take on the Dead Room on their own, apparently.” He held his hands up and shrugged. “So, after I passed the Final Dead Room, Monomi confirmed that you were through the door at the end.” He sighed. “What a pain to have her in there as a distraction though. I was hoping to catch up with you immediately. Oh well…” You stood stock still, the knife still in hand, so unsure of what to do. How was he always so nonchalant? “So this is what Monokuma’s been hiding back here, huh?” He looked around, taking in the myriad of weapons like they were nothing of note. Then his gaze trailed back to you, scanning you up and down. “By the way, why are you holding that knife like that?”

You suddenly feel extreme embarrassment run up your spine, your skin heating up. Your lack of words tells Nagito everything he needs to know. He was highly astute and intuitive, and you could see him analyzing the emotions laid bare all over you face. Nagito was always a step ahead. You could see it every time you were with him, from playing a simple card game in your cabin, to the seriousness of a class trial. It was near impossible to get one over on him. You feel sweat run down your forehead as you realize he’s figured you out. You’re too kind-hearted to kill someone else, and you’d confided in him at length about your ongoing poor mental state, how you couldn’t take this anymore and felt drained.

Over the many times you’d hung out with him, he’d grown to care about you enough to stop this path you were going down, and sensed the potential for a great wellspring of hope to burst forth from inside of you. He saw you as worth saving, and found himself genuinely caring about your fate, so slowly, he approached you, reaching out for the knife in your hand. When you don’t resist, he coaxes it out of your grip and quickly moves to distract you.

“Huh, that’s weird. Wonder where that window leads…” Gesturing over your shoulder, he leads you over to the very small square window, the only window in the entire room in fact. He hopes silently that the embarrassment of being caught and the knowledge that he’s watching you is is enough to stop you from attempting in the future.

It was now well into the night, and your new plan was in motion. This time you’d move at night while Nagito was sound asleep in his luxury sound-proofed room. Everything was seeming to fall into place.

It was already established and agreed upon that Grape Tower and Strawberry Tower were the same location with Chiaki’s eHandbook test. It was still debated amongst your peers just how they could be the same room or how the elevators worked, but now you and Nagito knew better. The window in the Octogon had revealed to only you two what the true secret of the funhouse was. The two towers were one big column, and the floor shifted up and down like an elevator. Your plan was solidified as soon as you realized this fact. A fall might hurt far less than a slow bleed-out. It could be instant death if you did it right.

You’d made a deal with Kazuichi, the Ultimate Mechanic. He trusted you enough to let you keep it vague, and his hunger exhuastion certainly helped with him not giving a fuck about your reasoning. You all knew that the doors to Grape and Strawberry Tower couldn’t be opened at the same time. Everyone assumed it was so that they appeared to be different places to trick you all, but now, you and Nagito knew it was so the floor of the towers could move up or down, concealing the risk of a fall. You simply asked Kazuichi if he could disable this function in the doors so that both tower doors could be open at any time. He was tiny bit hesitant at frist, but nearly started drooling when you showed him a huge toolbox you’d allow him to keep if he used it to do what you asked. It was so very tempting, but led him to worry about where you obtained this treasure in the first place, and if Monokuma would be upset about him meddling with the doors. You alleviated his fears by assuring him that there were no rules against it in the eHandbook and that you’d take the heat if Monokuma got mad. While he paced, you pushed him, stating that the offer was quickly expiring along with the precious toolbox. In the end, he just couldn’t resist those new toys, especially when trapped in the monotony and starvation in the funhouse.

So now here you stood, looking down at the perilous drop from the high-up door to Strawberry Tower onto the floor of Grape Tower. You felt empty inside, both literally and emotionally as you hadn’t eaten in days. There was a hollow, grim feeling to the neon tower at night, something uncanny. Unlike the knife, once you lept, that was it. It would be freefalling, out of your hands. It might even feel like a relief. There was no pushing a blade in further, this would be much easier. You’d left a note in your room stating it was suicide, and trusted your closer friends to confirm your handwriting. Hopefully they didn’t think it was some trick by a real blackened.

Your heart was racing, blood pounding in your ear. You take a deep inhale, and hold your breath. Closing your eyes, you step a single foot out over the ledge to the fatal fall.

Silently and sudden as a gust of wind, a lithe pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you back. The movement is desperate, sudden and jarring. You gasp and stumble back, falling on top of your rescuer with a thud. Nagito groans beneath you with the force, knocked over with your weight. You knew it was him, by the voice, the smell, the paleness of the arms clasped in a vice-like grip around your waist.

You both say nothing for a while as the severity of the situation sinks in. Suddenly, like a tsunami, a wave of emotions hit you, and you begin to sob at the reality of what you were about to just do. Your chest hurts and your tears flow freely down your face and onto Nagito below you, spattering onto his skin. You want to yell out, to scream What was I thinking?!, to curse yourself. He squeezes you once, as if to say:

You don’t need to say a thing…

“It’s a good thing I happened to be out for a walk, huh?” He speaks after a long while, letting you calm down. He continues his deflection: “Looked like you were about to slip!” He clears his throat and begins to run one bony hand through your hair to comfort you, allowing you to lay there on his chest for just a little longer.

Nekomaru Nidai

There was a simple beauty to the warm, sunny beach out behind the diner on the second island. The sand was soft and the water always looked serene. Usually, you’d come with friends and swim or have a little picnic, but today you were there alone, and for much less pleasant reasons. The beaming sun and tropical scenery stood in stark contrast to the dark clouds inside your mind.

You were floating out in the middle of the water, pondering. It was all too much. Something was so off: this island, the killing game, even your classmates at times. Nothing about this all felt real to you. You didn’t feel real, lost in your own head, a prisoner in your own body. It was bad enough you’d watched Togami and Teruteru die gruesomely, or that you’d just recently sent Fuyuhiko to the hospital after the deaths of Mahiru and Peko. It was traumatizing, and yet it felt so… unreal. And it would only continue. You were sure of that, despite the naive positivity of some of your classmates.

You wanted out, to just disappear without a trace. You felt hopeless and trapped each and every day on this maddening island. You hated the mocking feeling of being stuck in a killing game in a beautiful paradise like this, the irony. If everything went according to plan today, you’d successfully swim down as far as you possibly could, hold your breath, and when you couldn’t take it any longer, hopefully not have enough air to make it to the surface. Hopefully, you’d sink to the bottom of the ocean with a big gulp of water in your lungs. Maybe if your body was never found, there would be no trial. That was the only selfless part of this plan if you managed to pull it off: no trial, no work put on your classmates to solve it. After all, a body had to be found to start an investigation.

Without hesitation, you began your last journey, swimming straight downwards into the deep water, making sure to take a pathetic inhale beforehand to make this all go faster. Maybe, just maybe, you’d wake up on the other side, feeling real again. Once you reach the bottom, you sink into the sand bed and begin to pass the time by thinking of the few things you would miss about this island hellhole, the friends you’d made even though you seemed to lose another each week.

Your heart started to race as you thought about Chiaki letting you win in that first person shooter. Your lungs began to sting and you think of Ibuki and Sonia forcing you out of your comfort zone with new music, activities and movie genres. The sting turns into a burn, and you try to push back any second thoughts as Akane’s tough love and Nekomaru’s beaming smile come to mind. The tried their best to make you feel better, support you, uplift you. They actively put time into making you stronger, in both body and mind. The valued mental fortitude just as much as a healthy body. They made you feel seen, like your company was never a burden, like a big brother and sister. Their blunt honesty could be so refreshing.

Lost in your thoughts, you begin to feel it in your throat. It’s coming… You begin to gag, choke, drown. Struggling on instinct, you kick your feet and grasp at your chest. You look up to see the sun shine down through the water, and feel… sad. It was the last thing you’d expected to feel. You were sure you wanted this…

The last thing you see before your world goes dark is a large shadow swimming in your direction. The muffled sound of movement, an object rushing toward you is all you hear before you let yourself go.

Without warning, you’re conscious again. You have a feeling you’re not on the other side when you feel your back being slammed down onto the sand of the beach. There’s a pressure on your lungs, nearly bursting them and your eyes fly open in shock. Sputtering, you flip onto your side and spit out what feels like a gallon of salt water. You cough up a lung, so dazed that you nearly miss the large shadow completely eclipsing the sun, looming over you.

Nekomaru spoke, and the sheer volume of his deep voice startles you. You turn to face him and find that he looks sad, a rare expression for him. You’d seen him jolly, determined, angry even, but rarely sad. He looked… disappointed, on his knees right before you, so close. You hated that look on his face, even more knowing you caused it. After a long sigh, he began to speak:

“I was in the diner eating lunch… Through the windows I saw you swim out and go under but… after a while, you weren’t coming back up. I’ve seen you swim many times before… you’re an amazing swimmer, I know it. I really hope this was an accident… but-” Before he can finish, you throw yourself up and into his arms before he could see you cry. You hid your face over his shoulder, begging him not to finish his sentence. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, to hear the hurt in his voice. You just wanted someone you cared about to touch you, to make you feel real. He was always on your side, rooting for you, you didn’t mean to hurt him like this. The sand stuck to your soaked bodies as you held him, begged him to hold you back. When you whimper, trying to hold in your cries, he finally does.

“When you’re ready, we can talk about this, and for as long as you need,” he grumbles.

Gundham Tanaka

Gundham, although he was an amazing friend - your best friend in fact - wasn’t the best person to vent to. He had a ton of shit of his own to deal with, you could tell. He came with a lot of emotional baggage locked deep inside. The facade and dramatics, it was all an act, a wall he put up to protect himself from the world that hurt him as a child, the world that made him feel irreparably different. You couldn’t exactly vent about your long-term depression and anxieties to someone who would turn it into a lecture on demonic energies or a pep talk about how you were one of the most powerful mortals he’d ever come across as the Supreme Overlord of Ice. Sure, it would cheer you up sometimes, his theatrics would often make you laugh, but it was always temporary. Besides, he wasn’t a therapist, trauma dumping on him all the time wouldn’t be cool, and he obviously coped by escaping into his realm of fantasy. Why would you want to possibly rehash any old wounds of his by bringing him back down to the realities of Earth? You had too much love for him to do that.

You spent as much time with him as possible, though. It was one of of the few things that brought you joy anymore. You’d lost interest in most if not all of your old hobbies. He sensed it, you knew, but became awkward and nervous, never knowing quite how to both cheer you up and stay on script.

Hope’s Peak provided Gundham with a building of his own on the large campus. It tripled as a sort of animal reserve, rescue, and clinic. Most Hope’s Peak Ultimates had their own space dedicated to honing their talent, and this was his. That was the most important part of their school day after all. The other subjects were second priority. Gundham referred to the Ultimate Breeder’s building as his dark temple, his sanctuary of gloom, always something to that effect. He rarely let anyone who wasn’t in the breeding club enter, and even then he kept a close eye on its members. You joined the club because you cared for him, but you doubted he would ever kick his best friend out regardless. He often made exceptions to his rules for you, using some excuse about how he’d baptized you in shadows to make you worthy, or placed a protection spell first.

The breeding club building was truly impressive. There were medical wings, feeding stations, training rooms, even outdoor yards and runs for the animals to feel free. Everything was so well kempt. The place was split up to accommodate different animals and keep prey and predators apart, and there were some dangerous predators to be found there. You’d even seen Gundham bring a perfectly trained bear to class before. Everyone was in awe that day.

In the clinic area, you sat waiting for Gundham to bring some restock supplies. Sitting there with only your own sadness to keep you company, you began to drift into the dark recesses of your mind yet again. It felt like a daily occurrence lately. You felt insecure, worthless, dangerous. Across the room, you gazed into the cage of a particularly nasty breed of snake. It was deadly venomous, and seemed to be calling out your name. Without thinking, as if in a trance, you raise to a standing position. It feels like you’ve lost all control of your limbs as you hover over toward the testy reptile. Unlocking it’s cage door with a click, you reach in, letting the snake coil around your hand with no reluctance, like a person possessed. Like you had nothing to lose.

Being Gundham’s ward, it’s pretty well behaved already, but still new to the rescue and with a slight feral side not yet trained out completely. With your free hand, you grab its head gently and press its mouth into your wrist. You bump its nose into your skin, not enough to hurt the snake, just irritate. Gudham wouldn’t approve of you hurting any animal. You could never. With a small hiss, it pulls back slightly and strikes forward, latching its fangs down deep into the flesh of your wrist. You cry out, feeling something for the first time that day. The fangs were long and dug in snuggly.

Gundham’s deep voice startles you, booming as he enters with the box of supplies in his hand. He’s boasting, something about how the check-ups would go smoothly with you there to assist today when his words are cut off by the sight before him.

The snake in your hand was just now pulling its fangs out of your skin, and you had a horrified look on your face at his sudden appearance, like you didn’t want him to see. His mind started racing, instantly in fight or flight mode - more like save or let die mode - fitting for a man who spends so much time around creatures that run on survival instinct. You drop to your knees, the venom already beginning its work. Your rapidly numbing hand fell to the ground, the snake safely slithering down and onto the floor. Gundham rushed over to the snake, scooping it up and locking it safely back into its cage to secure the area.

You started feeling woozy, feeling heat creep up your arm and spread through your veins to your shoulder and chest. It both hurt and felt tingly, like a limb that had fallen asleep but was simultaneously on fire. Your head began to pulse like a searing migraine, and you were sure the stress of having Gundham there to watch your downfall was making it worse. Your vision was now swimming, blurry and dimming. Gundham is rushing over to you, grabbing you up into his arms, but his yells are muffled as if there were cotton balls in your ears. And then, with a sudden surge of pain in your lungs, you black out.

When your eyes finally crack open, you find them sensitive to the light above. You look around slowly, taking in the familiar surroundings of Hope’s Peak Academy’s hospital wing. You gasp softly when you try to move your right hand and feel resistance tugging back. You glance down, tearing up when you see a bandaged hand firmly clasped around your own. Gundham is pulled up in a comfy chair next to your hospital bed, his head resting on the bed beside your thigh. He’s sound asleep, probably sleeping off the stress you put him through. The curl at the end of his striped hair lays across your blanket. He looked intense even unconscious, his brow furrowed, scrunched up in worry. You said a quiet thank you to his sleeping form, running a hand through his hair lovingly. You assumed that if it weren’t for Gundham quickly administering one of the antivenoms he kept on hand in his clinic, you would’ve been dead before you could even reach the main building’s hospital across campus. You imagined that the view of him carrying your limp body across the grounds in a sprint would’ve been a sight to see.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

You’d been friends with Fuyuhiko for years. You, him, and Peko formed an inseparable trio growing up. Peko felt an overwhelming urge to protect you at all times, but you constantly begged her not to, to lay off, as her job was to live to protect Fuyuhiko, and nobody else. You didn’t want to get her in trouble, and his parents already hated you. They saw you as a pest, a bad influence on their son and a distraction from his destiny of being the clan’s leader one day. You had no yakuza ties, you were just a kid from the same side of the city who got mixed in with little Fuyuhiko as kids. Boss Kuzuryu would’ve loved to be rid of you, and it would’ve been easy too, but his stubborn son convinced him years ago that if he wanted his blood in Hope’s Peak Academy one day, he would have to be used to being around “normal” people his age sooner or later.

You, Fuyuhiko and Peko would sneak around Kuzuryu territories and never get caught or scolded. Being in the company of the boss’s son did help of course. With Fuyuhiko’s knowledge of his father’s empire, you learned where not to go and when, patrol schedules, enemy territory lines, meeting spots and so on. It was like some kind of adventure. As kids, it felt like playing pretend: criminals, thugs, crime lords, avoiding police. Except it was all real. Your parents rarely knew where you truly were, as you lied to spare them from heart attacks.

After over a decade together, you truly loved Fuyuhiko, maybe even as more than a friend, though you’d rather die than ever admit it. He was easier to get along with than people gave him credit for. They were intimidated by his family’s reputation, but you knew the real him. He could be a hothead, but he genuinely cared about the people in his life. He was unlike many other yakuza member’s you’d met, often only putting up an uncaring front because he felt like he had to. You’d always been close, but as you began school at Hope’s Peak, a distance began to grow between you. As you got older, you’d begun to feel this odd, uncontrollable sense of sadness deep within. Each year as another birthday passed, it got worse. It was getting harder and harder to ignore. You’d often withdraw from Fuyuhiko and Peko, not wanting to burden them with this depression you couldn’t seem to shake. Fuyuhiko wasn’t good at talking about feelings anyway. Peko was no better. They certainly were no one’s therapists, and you didn’t want to put that on them anyway. How could they fix you when you yourself didn’t know what was wrong? You were starting to feel pushed to the edge by your own mind. You couldn’t go to therapy either. It felt humiliating. Your best friend was the toughest guy in the world. He would never step foot in a therapist’s office.

You’d had thoughts lately, unsafe thoughts about a permanent solution to the problem. You’d try to push them back, but without support, with your own mind betraying you, you felt more and more hopeless each day. You felt like you needed him, to talk to your best friend before you did something stupid. So right after classes were finished for the day, you headed off campus to the Kuzuryu complex. You knew he’d be there right after school on this day of the week. You also knew that weren’t supposed to go there alone, that it was extremely dangerous to be on Kuzuryu property without an escort, but you were desperate. You’d held onto this for far too long.

It wasn’t until you were skirting along the brick wall to the back entrance of the main Kuzuryu mansion that your heart began to race with second thoughts. The inital gut feeling that stopped you from reaching out to Fuyuhiko in the first place months ago was back in full force. Maybe this was the wrong choice. Fuyuhiko had so much on his plate. He didn’t need your cry baby ass dumping your feelings onto him. Maybe he and Peko would be better off without you in their lives at all. Maybe… the initial thoughts you’d woken up with this morning were the right ones.

You peeked around the corner of the wall. This was dangerous territory. Everyone in town knew to avoid this area if they valued their lives. Non-clan members who entered were liable to be shot or shanked on sight. That didn’t happen often though, as the locals had enough common sense. Fuyuhiko had to be inside, and would’ve come out to get you if he knew you were coming.

But you didn’t want him to know anymore. You wanted to just end it, to fade away and never bother anyone ever again, to never feel this way again.

Before you can change your mind yet again, you round the corner into the courtyard preceding the back entrance, and the guards are alerted immediately. Their guns are trained on you with practiced percision. You prepare for your life to be over, for the pain of bullet fire and screw your eyes shut. The yelling and swearing of the guards, prepared to pull the trigger is abruptly halted when you sense a presence in front of you. You open your eyes to see Fuyuhiko standing before you, arms outstretched in a protective stance. He’s swearing like a sailor at his underlings, face red as a tomato with rage.

“Fuyu..hiko?” You sniffle, barely above a whisper. This feels unreal, that a miracle like this would happen to you in what should be your last moment. The petite gangster guarding you was burning with a level of anger too hot to even have your meek voice register in his mind.

“How dare you point that damn gun at (Y/N)!” He was ranting, on a temper-high, and his subordinates were cowering with every word. Upsetting the boss’s son was not a good look for them. Finally satisfied with the amount of fear he’d struck into them, he ordered them to get lost, before things got worse for them. Now alone with you in the empty courtyard, he turned to face you, taking a deep breath to calm himself. That anger should be reserved for the deserving, and he hated when you saw him get like that. He knew he could be a dick, a tempermental jerk at times, but he had a soft spot for you and hated to see you upset. Seeing your forlorn expression finally for himself, he grabbed your shoulder, ushering you off and into the side room he’d entered from when he first saw your foolish ass step into the courtyard alone. Bringing a thumb up, he wiped a tear from the corner of your eye that threatened to fall. “Come on, we have to talk.”

Teruteru Hanamura

Your best friend on campus, Teruteru Hanamura loved cooking for you. Of course he loved cooking, he was the Ultimate Cook after all, but he found it especially rewarding to cook for someone he truly cared about. He was like his mother in that way. You always taste tested his newest culinary creations and were brutally honest about your reviews so he could improve. He spent many lunch periods making you extravagant meals. He refused to let you pack your own, order out, or eat at the cafeteria. It was a win-win: the school saw every minute he spent cooking as him honing his ultimate talent, and you got free food. You guys would chat it up for hours, playfully flirt, and just enjoy each other’s company.

Much to his chagrin, he started to notice you coming to your lunch meet-ups less and less these past few months. When you did show up, you didn't seem as excited as you used to be. He assumed it was normal for most students at one point or another. School work and the pressure to excel at such a prestigious school were probably just stressing you out. He was more of a glass-half-full kind of guy, so the possibility of it being anything more serious than that rolled right off his back. It was out of the question. He didn’t even want to think about such negativity.

It wasn’t until you stopped coming altogether that he realized he might have to.

You’d miss lunch, and plans to hang out after school hours, and stopped texting back as much. It deeply saddened him. Food was his way to show he loved you and cherished your friendship, the way he expressed his creativity and feelings to the world. If he couldn’t share it with his closest friend, he didn’t want to share it with anyone. In his mind, he’d already attributed your behavior to stress, but maybe you also just weren’t interested in being his friend anymore? You sounded more solemn than usual on the phone, and even with your tone through texts. He wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t like him anymore and just wanted to let him down easy. He was a bit much for most people.

After pacing and getting into his own head for hours in the kitchen, he worked up the courage to go to your dorm room and finally have the talk, to confront you directly and ask if he’d done anything to upset you. Sweating bullets outside your door, his fear of confrontation and hatred of negative energy was creeping up on him. With a big gulp, he swallowed before knocking with false confidence. He knew you were in there, he heard your TV through the door and somewhat knew your schedule. This is were you would most certainly be at this time after classes. He called out to you, and when you didn’t answer, he jiggled the door handle, suddenly fearing that maybe the situation was worse than he might’ve once thought. Finding the door unlocked, he gently pushed the door open and crept in.

He finds the room completely dark save for the light of the TV. In the flashing of the screen, he can see the piles of garbage and clothing all over your floor. He scanned the environment anxiously, shocked at the state of your dorm. Then he finds you, sitting up in your bed, blankets covering your legs, silent as the grave, You’re just staring, as if in a trance, completely emotionless. He can see your phone lighting up on the bedside table, notifications buzzing, but you make no move to react.

“(Y/N)?” He can’t believe he’s seeing you like this. You were like a zombie, an empty shell of the person he knew and loved. When you don’t answer, he moves to sit on the side of the bed, concerned. He tiptoes over cautiously, not wanting to trigger any negative response from you. What he sees now, up close to you in the dimly lit room makes his eyes widen in horror.

On your lap, on top of a plastic plate is the cheapest, most unappetizing plate of budget spaghetti he’d ever seen, likely from some cafeteria or corner store. It looked like something a student would keep as a midnight snack in their mini fridge just in case they were starving when everything was closed, a quick fix. That wasn’t the worst part though.

No, the worst most definitely had to be the entire bottle’s worth of pills you’d seemingly emptied on top of the depressing-looking noodles. A plastic fork sat nestled in between the noodles and the pills, as if you were just about to begin eating before he arrived (perhaps in the nick of time).

It’s in that moment he realized exactly what was going on here. This was all so overwhelming to him, but his first priority was saving his best friend. Again, with the intention not to trigger anything, to not overstimulate or make anything worse in mind, he moves slowly, constantly checking your expression or any change or sign of stress. His shaking hands take the plate in their grasp, and he pulls it back and safely away from you. His voice cracks when he finally speaks again.

“H-hey! (Y/N), y-ya know… food is love… food is…” he struggles for the right words, so unsure of his ability to be what you need right now, “... food is beauty, and a very, very good thing! Food is meant to heal and nourish your body, never hurt it!” He smiles weakly, taking one of your limp hands in his own, and you feel his warmth transfer over, flooding into you. “We don’t have to talk right now, but I’m gonna stay, o-okay? I’m gonna stay right here.”

Kazuichi Souda

Kazuichi was stressing. He’d never felt this much in a bind in his entire life. When it came to his own negative feelings and problems, he usually felt fine expressing himself, often yelling or crying if he needed to, letting someone know they’d upset him. When it came to comforting others, it always felt so damn awkward, and it was a feeling he’d like to avoid if he could. He was just no good at it. He was torn now, as it was his own best friend who needed his emotional support, and he’d run away like a selfish coward, hidden from the stress of the situation. He was afraid, and now the situation seemed to be boiling over, to the point of no return.

You were obviously going though something, and could tell. He was closer to you than anyone. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed a definite decline in your energy, the amount of sleep you were getting, and general happiness lately. He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t avoiding a direct conversation about it. He didn’t even know what to say, or if his advice would help. He was no professional, and growing up with a dad that abused him verbally and sometimes even physically, he’d learned to cope with trauma and depressive episodes in his own ways. There were times that he’d have to push back his own feelings to move on when his dad was involved, so how could someone like him help others?

Something that always helped him feel a bit better about himself was altering his outward appearance to satisfy his own sense of self expression and aesthetic. He’d once advised that you get a piercing, dye and cut your hair, buy some new clothes when you were in a particularly dismal mood. You didn’t seem to go for it. In fact, he later felt like a dick for even suggesting it, like maybe now you thought he wasn’t taking you seriously. You’d made an excuse to go back to your dorm almost immediately after the conversation.

He’d felt like an asshole for being a little more distant with you the past few days, but he just felt like a colossal loser for not being able to help one of the most important people in his life. It was overwhelming. What if you wanted to be alone right now? What if him trying to help ended up making it worse? Pacing his mess of a room, he ran his hands through his pink hair, clawing over his scalp in stress. He felt overstimulated, mind bouncing dozens of thoughts around at once.

He stopped, taking a deep breath to try and narrow these thoughts down and make an actual, reasonable plan. At the end of the day, the most important thing was the well-being of his friend. The end goal had to be to get you help or help you himself so that your friendship could get back on track to the normal, happy every day routine that you both loved. The end goal was for sure in his mind: to see his friend smile again and see a familiar glow of happiness radiate off of them. To exorcise this depression permanently, or to at least take the first steps in that direction. If he had to put aside his own feelings of embarrassment and anxiety to achieve that… well, he felt like that goal was worth almost any level of uncomfortableness.

He put his foot down, now resigned to just do what he’d wanted to do deep down for days. You would do the same for him if the situation were reversed, and he knew that. From his room on the opposite side of the dormitory wing, he made his way down the long hall until he reached your own dorm room. You were so very close, but felt so far away when he shut you out for the comfort of his own room. Now he was here, ready to finally give his all to help you like he should’ve the whole time. Even if you just needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to vent to, he wanted to pull through and be there for you until he could guide you through the next steps.

Silent before your door, he was about to knock when he picked up a sound from the other side. He recognized your voice instantly, and you were crying, weeping quite loudly inside your room. This triggers something in him, like a need to protect you, like hearing you in pain hurts him as well. Without thinking, he grabbed the door handle and threw the door open. It’s unlocked, carelessly as if you were just coming in from class and thought of nothing else but your current goal, one-track mind not even bothering to lock your door for safety or privacy. Your school bag and books are thrown haphazardly on the ground and he looks for you, following the source of the cries to the small side bathroom that every dorm room contained.

He nearly lets out a shrill scream of shock when he sees you standing in front of your bathroom mirror, holding a little silver razor blade up to your wrist. It looked like you were building up the courage, so ensnared by your own miserable thoughts that you didn’t even notice him until he was already leaping forward and yelling out your name. You looked up, wide eyes streaked with tears and puffy with redness.

“Kazuichi?!” Your voice is hoarse from crying and you feel so taken aback by his sudden appearance, so small and vulnerable. You felt foolish, caught in this compromising situation, embarrassed that someone you cared about so deeply would ever see you in this state. He didn’t seem to care about that though, only concerned with getting you back down to a safe mental state in this moment. He eyed you, then the razor blade in your hand.

“Please… please don’t do it. Please,” he begs you, one calloused hand reaching out toward you, palm outstretched. “I can’t let you go there. Please, don’t make me watch you do this because I refuse to leave, so…” His voice shook, and he inched closer, hand still ready for you to make the next move. Exhuasted, humiliated, and ready to submit to his help, you concede. You place the razor safey flat-side down into his palm, and he quickly discards it into the trash bin behind him, itching to get it out of his hands expeditiously. With that out of the way, he grabs you around the shoulders, pulling you into a hug that’s almost suffocating. He crushes you against his chest, and feels you shaking, breathing slowly evening out in his embrace. You let your eyes fluttered closed, let him help you stabilize.

“I am… so sorry for not taking this as serious as I should’ve. I never thought it would get this bad!” You could hear him crying. Kazuichi was never one to be afraid to shed tears when he was overwhelmed. You liked that sensitive side of him. “I’m sorry from running from your issues. I’m here now… I’m here.”

Byakuya Twogami

You were fascinated by the self-appointed leader of your little group. Ever since the killing game began, people kind of looked to him for guidance because he had a sense of authority and true confidence in his voice. There was a commanding tone and conviction to his words that you assumed was native to one of his status.

You were interested in his family business and the very different world of the elites like him in general, as you’d made it to Hope’s Peak on pure talent alone and not due to any nepotism or financial status. Attending the academy was the first chance you really had to get out of your old neighborhood and see how other people lived. It had been a miracle that you’d been scouted. The Togami family was just so vastly different from yours in every way. You wanted to know how it all worked. You often found yourself following him around and asking him questions that he probably found tedious and trivial. They were questions that he was probably asked in every interview, or with every new friend who tried to cozy up to him for his money and influence, but those were never your intentions. What began as curiosity for his different way of life turned into you simply enjoying getting to know him. He could even have a sense of humor on occasion, even if he didn’t see it that way.

Eventually, he would start to delegate you to little tasks to help him out, as if you were one of his retainers. In his mind you were competent and he respected you enough to trust you with the work. Overthinking, you took it as him just trying to get you out of his hair. You felt kind of bummed out, like you were probably getting on his nerves and bothering him. His style of communication was so different from your own that you would’ve never guessed that him getting rid of you and spending less time with you could mean he respected you, even if there was a task involved taht required you to move on your own. What made it worse was that you spent so much time with him that you really hadn’t gotten to know any of your other classmates. You weren’t close with any of them so it felt awkward to be walking around without Togami by your side. Interacting with a bunch of people who had already seemed to sort out their friendships might be a bit awkward and uncomfortable. Fortunately, there were a lot of extroverts in this group that would probably pull you in and make you feel right at home as soon as you reached out even mildly.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now. Everyone had agreed that the killing game was absolute nonsense, because none of you would ever stoop so low as to actually kill someone for any reason. Yet here you were eavesdropping on a concerning conversation between the seemingly harmless Nagito and the careless Teruteru. Nagito was planning to start up the killing game at the party you all were planning tonight and it didn’t seem like anything would stop him. You could hear the fear in Teruteru’s voice as he tried to speak sense into the much taller, lanky boy. Nagito already had a weapon hidden under a dining table, had sent threatening notes out, left little hints to put his plan into motion. It sounded completely and utterly insane!

You were there in the first place because Togami asked you earlier that day to scope out the party building stealthily and quietly. He wanted someone he trusted to gather any dangerous instruments or note any faults in the architecture that could cause an injury or allow secret entry. Nagito and Teruteru were there cleaning and setting up the food and decorations for the class party later that night, but Byakuya seemed suspicious of the both of them when he spoke on it. It wasn’t hard for you to see why now, when not too long after sneaking into the building, you happened upon this conversation. You had to tell someone, of course, but who would believe you except maybe Togami himself? Nagito and Teruteru could always deny it and it would be your word over theirs. The class might believe you over Teruteru, but Nagito seemed really well liked within the group.

When you relayed Nagito’s plans to Togami later, it felt like he already knew somehow, like you only just confirmed his feelings. You didn’t know how he knew, but he seemed to be taking it seriously. He asked that you share this info with no one else, and told you not to worry as he had it all under control.

How could you not worry about it? Now, at the actual the party you’re unable to relax, on edge even in the presence of amazing food and happy people. You’re nearly shaking with worry, trying to psych yourself into believing that Nagito would change his mind. He was bluffing… he’d chicken out. Everything would be okay. Togami would handle it! Maybe he talked to Nagtio on the side before the party, maybe that natural intimidating aura of his convinced Nagito to let go of his nefarious plans. Teruteru sure seemed to be perky and proud of his food spread tonight, so surely the whole murder plan was off the table. Why would he be so calm otherwise, when he was terrified earlier?

When the lights abruptly went out, everything changed. You panicked, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. Your heart rate spiraled out of control, adrenaline kicking into high gear. You followed your instincts to dash over to the back table, the one Nagito was standing next to just before the lights went out. You had to get to that weapon before him, You wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of knowing you could’ve prevented this by warning the entire group if Nagito succeeded in killing someone. You knew this plan was in the works. You trusted Togami to stop it before now and here it was: the moment of truth. You had to act. You weren’t close with any of these people, but they all seemed to already care for each other, if even just a little bit. It was better if you died here over anybody else. It had to be your duty after the information you chose to withhold from them. It wouldn’t have been fair.

As you were about to dive under the table in the dark, you feel a strong grip on your arm. You are lifted and thrusted backwards and away from the table. You yell out, fearing an altercation with Nagito and preparing for a fight, but as you fall back onto your butt with a thud a few feet from the table, all physical contact ceases. There’s a commotion, and you scramble backwards in the dark. There’s confusion and chaos, and then the lights turn back on.

You wouldn’t know until you were gathering evidence for very the first class trial later that night, that Togami had taken your place under that table. The arm that pushed you back had been his. While you couldn’t see him, he used night vision goggles to see you and died in your place. You couldn’t help but think that maybe if you trusted him when he said to trust him, let him handle it and didn’t get in the way of the table, he would’ve had a second or two more to think and react… and maybe he wouldn’t be dead. It could’ve been you, and you would be eternally grateful for his sacrifice, even if he didn’t plan for it that night,

You vowed to spend whatever time left you had on this miserable island avenging him by and honoring his memory while you all worked together to stop Monokuma.

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m-y-fandoms · 1 year

Note

After reading your works I want to ask, which do you prefer? Kind, quiet, beginning of the game Nagito, self-deprecating submissive Nagito or completely off his rocker, sassy dominant Nagito? Choose wisely

It’s hard to choose because he’s kind of both of those things at once at all times. He’s so intelligent and always working behind the scenes so that even when he’s self deprecating, he’s still actually a step ahead of everyone and already knows what’s going on before everyone else. I like sassy crazy Nagito a bit better because he’s a bit more spicy and confident, but keep in mind he was only like that because he thought his class was no longer worthy of hope and his goals. Even in spicy mode if he found someone he thought was truly working for hope, he would go back to being submissive toward/around them. I think he switches between both modes on the daily. His duality is why I love him so much. So both, or neither is my answer haha. I love the man… I have him tattooed on my skin permanently, so I love both sides 😭

#nagito komaeda #ask box #ask #ask answered #Danganronpa

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m-y-fandoms · 1 year

Text

Nagito Komaeda Playlist

Monster - Dodie

Maniac - Stray Kids

The Closer - VIXX

We are Stars - The Pierces

Shangri La - VIXX

LIMITLESS - NCT

Oats in the Water - Ben Howard

Beautifully Unfinished - Ella Henderson

Aoki Tsuki Michite - AKIRA

Passage - Miyano Mamoru

Only Time Makes it Human - King Princess

Strangeness and Charm - Florence + the Machine

Leave my Body - Florence + the Machine

Ship to Wreck - Florence + the Machine

Shake it Out - Florence + the Machine

Breathe Me - Sia

Odd Sense - VIXX

Teenagers - My Chemcial Romance

Stressed Out - Twenty One Pilots

The Anthem - Good Charlotte

YinYang - LayFullStop

Babe - Hyuna

Therefore I Am - Billie Eilish

Bad Guy - Billie Eilish

My Boy - Billie Eilish

Aroma - Realslow feat. Hash Swan

Wide Awake - Katy Perry

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m-y-fandoms · 1 year

Text

COMMISSION: Nagito Komaeda x Reader - Love Hotel

Details: V3 has the Love Hotel/Love Key scenarios - I’ve been asked to make a version for SDR2 as if it were canon in the second game as well. If you didn’t play V3 and aren’t familiar with the Love Hotel scenarios/scenes, don’t worry, Monokuma will explain the concept early on in the fanfiction below! Also, I don’t think I used any gendered terms for the reader, it just didn’t come up/wasn’t necessary with the details I was describing. So, anyone can read this with themselves in mind.

Warnings: Spicy but not NSFW - mature themes and romance into a fade to black/implied at the end just like the actual V3 Love Hotel scenes. Would probably be Mature but not Explicit on AO3 - Also SDR2 spoilers!!!

Word Count: 4k words

When hanging out with your peers and exploring the island, you often found these little Monokuma coins tucked behind objects or hidden under things. These “Monocoins” could be exchanged at the Monomono gacha machine for prizes. Some were tiny, and some had no business even fitting inside the machine. It was a wonder how they got there. In between the stress of the killings and trials, it was nice to exchange little gifts that said “I see you, and I trust you, and I want to be closer to you” with the friends you had left. The Monomono machine often rewarded you with intriguing and seemingly targeted items. For example, when you got a magazine on beast breeding and taming, it was clearly meant for your exchanges with Gundham Tanaka. When wound gauze or a nurse’s apron dropped from the machine, it was obviously a sign to get to know Mikan.

Today’s trinket was a mystery to you: an ornate key - golden with a pink heart-shaped gem embedded onto its handle. It dropped into your hand as you popped it out of the gacha capsule that protected it. It was a nice size, probably to a door rather than say, a locket or jewelry box.

Immediately upon receiving it you began to look for what it unlocked. It didn’t seem like a gift subliminally meant for any of your friends, so instead you chose to find a little adventure in all the chaos, a treasure hunt of sorts. You’d tried little tool sheds or abandoned buildings around the first three islands, back doors or closets inside places like the market or pharmacy. The pink gem made you think of Monomi - or rather Usami. It matched her aesthetic and color scheme. You’d questioned her about it, and she seemed to draw a blank. You felt like she was being honest with you, so you moved on. A frustrating thought began brewing in your mind: maybe the key went to a door on an island that was still locked away from you and your peers. Perhaps the bridges guarded by Monobeasts blocked your path. Unfortunately, following the ongoing pattern, someone would have to die for a new island to become accessible, and that was most defintiely not worth sating your burning curiosity. And so, you asked your closer friends, such as Hajime and Chiaki, to keep an eye out for a possible clue, but ultimately let it go, tossing the key into a accessory dish on the beside table of your cabin.

Speaking of your cabin, there you were, winding down for the night in your customized little cottage in the lineup of huts at the resort. It was cozy, a personalized type of dorm room substitute decked out with items to serve and encourage the development of your Super Highschool Level talent. The cream-colored canopy bed was pretty large for single student and super comfortable, and so on days when the survivor’s guilt wasn’t weighing on your mind like a plague, it was very easy to fall asleep quite quickly.

You’d been asleep for what must’ve been at least a couple of hours when a noise startled you awake. Still groggy and half-asleep, you spot the black and white bear you all hated so very much standing in the middle of your cottage.

“What the…” your words slurred, eyes barely open. You would’ve been freaking out at his appearance, had it not been extremely normal for the bear to pop up out of nowhere. That and the fact that it was against Monokuma’s rules for him to ever hurt a student on his own left you at ease and not fearing for your life.

“Oh, great, you’re awake! Would’ve been awkward if I had to crawl up on the bed and shake ya’ to life! Phew, saves me the trouble!” He giggled in his own little mischievous way as you sat up, giving him mostly your full attention. He never left until he made his point anyway, so why waste time arguing with him for interrupting your beauty sleep?

“Alright, alright what do you want? I’m still tired! Unless someone is dead, say what you need to say and leave…” you grumbled. Monokuma bristled at that.

“How rude! My time is very valuable, you know! Since you’ve been hurting your puny little brain trying to find the solution to that Love Key over there, here I am, going out of my way to help you! You should be more appreciative!” He growled, claws displayed.

“Love Key…?” You looked to the key on your bedside table, still in a bit of a daze. “So that’s what it’s called…” Still not much of a hint, you thought.

“Yep, yep! I’ll tell you how to use it!” He perked up once again. “You see, it opens the way to a very special place! A place you’ve searched many times before… however, it’s form has now changed!”

“Hmmm…” How curious… since you had in fact checked every available area multiple times over.

“You see, if you go visit the motel on the third island right about now, you’ll find it buzzing with an aura of lust and romance!” Your brow raised as he laughed impishly. “That key you got transforms the motel into a place you can clear out some of your most carnal desires at night, but… only the one with the key and… one other person will see this change!”

“What are you talking about?!” You were only half-awake before, but now you were sure you had to still be dreaming. What an insane concept. This is what he came to say? This nonsense?

“Oh, are you starting to get worked up? Are you ready to let it all hang out?” He began to sweat, a wicked, messed up grin on his face. “Your key will unlock a particular Love Suite at the motel,” he continued, barely containing his excitement, “and you and one other person will be invited to spend the night. There, you will be a part of that person’s fantasy. They will see you as their romantic ‘ideal’ and basically just swoon all over you. Think of it as a kind of sexy dream that lets you escape the cruel reality of the killing game! It’s their escape, too though, so it’s important for you to play the role your Love Suite partner wants you to! If you break character, your dear partner may very well wake up in anguish, all pent up and frustrated! And you wouldn’t want that, would you?” He snickered.

“This all sounds very inappropriate and embarrassing, so I think I’ll pass.” You grumbled, shuffling uncomfortably in your sheets. At this point, you just wanted him to go away.

“Oh, don’t worry! What happens there, stays there. Memories are wiped when you exit. Oh, and one last thing: anyone can show up there. Any of your classmates, even those who’ve passed on.

Well now, you had to be dreaming. Memories wiped, the motel transforming, and not to mention four of your classmates were very much dead… how could they show up? Seeing the look on your face, incredulous and lost in thought, Monokuma gasped softly to grab your attention, speaking up again:

“What’s wrong? You seem skeptical. Why not try it out for yourself, then?” If Monokuma were allowed to cause a killing, you’ve sworn this was a plot to set you up. Not that it mattered in a dream, anway. “Let love take hold! Take that ol’ Love Key for a spin!”

After much hesitance and with Monokuma having left your cabin nearly a half hour beforehand, you were now out walking alone, leaving the resort and making your way to the third island. You tried not to disturb your other classmates in their cabins, being sure not to make any noise as it must have been well past one in the morning. Sand and gravel crunched below your shoes as you walked rather hurriedly to the long wooden bridge that connected the islands. Moonlight shined off of your pajamas in the cool tropical night breeze, giving a small relief from the usual humidity, and if you weren’t sure this were a dream, you would’ve felt like an idiot, opening yourself up to being an easy target for a killing.

You wrapped your arms around your waist nervously. In the end, you were too curious not to try it out, but you had to admit, you were still mulling it over in your brain:

Their ideal… a shared fantasy… So they wouldn’t really see you as you are per se… but what did that mean? Did that mean that if they liked submissive cute pretty boys, that’s how you appeared to them? If they wanted a buff aggressive woman, you’d suddenly grow muscles? Would it all be an illusion? Maybe just your personality would change…

Play along, Monokuma had said…

Passing the hospital and music venue, you approached the motel and immediately noticed the change. The retro sign out front was now decked out in pink and red neon lettering boasting the words Love Motel. The building itself, once dingy, dirty and forgettable, now had spotlights and strobes out front and the yellow, beige and brown chipped paint had transformed into a Valentine’s-type aesthetic. Pinks, reds, whites, the typical colors of the heart and romance surrounded you and gave the motel a whole new vibe. The line of ground-level rooms were still present, and though you assumed your key only lead to one of them, you’d have no trouble figuring out which. One door in particular, smack dab in the middle seemed to be pulsing with life. The paint seemed to be a shade darker on this door, and pink smoke spilled out from underneath the crack. It was like it was luring you in, tempting you to enter. It was as if pheromones leaked from its crevices. You placed a shaky hand on the door knob, entered the key with the other, and gave it a twist. It opened with a hiss, like pressure releasing. You stepped inside, the door closing on its own behind you.

The room around you was mesmirizing, unlike anything you’d seen on Jabberwock Island before. Scattered around were velvety plush love seats and cushions in crimson reds and deep pinks. The carpet was luxurious and pink lava lamps stood nearly five feet tall in the corners of the room. Soft lighting set a dreamy mood. The floor underneath the carpet was checkered tile like a chessboard. Above you dangled a large, expensive-looking crystal chandelier with heart-shaped accents. In the middle of the room was a round, almost comically large bed with a thick red duvet and a mountain of pillows. Your eyes bounced around the room, taking it all in with wonder, until they settled on the area just beside the bed.

“No way…” You gasp lightly, hands coming up to cover your mouth.

“Hello there, (Y/N),” Nagito smiled back at you: genuine, warm, welcoming. His eyes creased into little lines with the expression. Dressed in his usual attire, he raised a hand to wave gently.

It was like every step of this journey, every new discovery proved over and over to you that this was in fact, a dream. You had to be asleep for Nagito to be here. Nagito… Out of all of your classmates, fate chose your crush to place upon you. It felt like an ambush, like a trap.

Your feelings for Nagito had blossomed almost immediately upon meeting him. There was physical attraction at first sight. He was tall, thin, with a pronounced Adam’s Apple and veiny arms. His pale skin was vampiric almost, translucent in the bright sun, especially when he went swimming with little on but his trunks. His hair was wispy like cotton candy, soft and full. You imagined running your hands through it often. You were lured in by his kind and helpful personality. After the first class trial, when you all learned of his true disposition, you fought to keep your feelings under wraps. He was dangerous, volatile, unstable, and a whole lot of other negative adjectives, so you held it all in.

Still, you couldn’t deny your attraction to the mystery that came along with him. He was obviously extremely intelligent, often moving behind the scenes and one step ahead of everyone else. His mind and the way it worked, just the way he talked was alluring to you. It often felt like he was flirting with you when you were around him. You just assumed he was just trying to butter you up to use you, trying to get closer to further his goals of “hope.”

You tried to be around him as little as possible, though… or that’s what you wanted your peers to perceive. You tried to only hang out with him when you had an excuse: looking for clues and evidence, during investigations, interrogating him, trying to get closer to him under the guise of wanting to control his crazy so he wouldn’t hurt your friends. In reality, you enjoyed every moment spent with him. He could be scary at times though for sure, getting all wild and frantic when speaking of the future and his plans for hope, or even knowing he was plotting when he was quiet. Which is why it was so odd that he was almost… shy at the moment?

“(Y/N)...?” He cleared his throat, gaining your attention once again. Shaken out of your trance, you made eye contact with him, feeling instantly a bit shy yourself.

“Yes, Nagito?” You speak softly, never moving an inch. This felt surreal.

“I knew it would be you…” He smiled just barely and took a step forward, a gleam in his eye.

“Nagito… do you know what’s going on here?” You inquired, and he nodded enthusiastically. Always a step ahead.

“When I learned of this place, I just knew it would be you that showed… after all, you’re the ultimate shining hope that eclipses all others! It could only be you!” His arms were outstretched as if to embrace you, or welcoming you to embrace him, but yet he didn’t step any closer.

Ah, yes, his ideal… you think to yourself. He was obviously very mentally ill, you’d gathered, obsessed with the idea of hope even if there had to be an event of despair that preceded in order to propel forward such hope. Sometimes it was vague, to you at least, what hope meant to him. He seemed to know very well what he meant, though nobody else did. Not one hundred percent of the time, anyway.

“So, where should I begin? Tell me how best to serve you! Let me please you!” He took a large stride forward, grasping your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips in a gentlemanly gesture. Like some victorian nobleman greeting a lady, he kissed the back of your knuckles as if he revered and respected you highly. Taken aback by the sudden action, you jerked your hand away.

You felt hesitant… Weren’t you supposed to be his ideal? Why is he all up on you, then, asking to serve and please you?

“Please, allow me to be your stepping stone. Use me, let me be your tool for hope! I know I’m less than nothing, but if I can help you even a microscopic amount, I can die happy!” He fell to his knees, wrapping around your legs like a child latching onto their mother. He looked quite pathetic, actually. He ran a cold, pale hand up and under the pant leg of your pajamas and you shivered. Your heart rate began to pick up at the skin to skin contact. “Whip me if it pleases you, if it feels better and relieves your stress. Hit me! Take out your build-up from the day on me, so you can continue to work hard for the cause of hope!”

This is wrong… You shook him off gently, backing away until your back hit the door. He stood, a displeased look across his face.

“Nagito…”

“Am I fucking it up? I can do better, please. I’ll do anything for you!” He began to shuck off his outer layer of clothing, his green coat. You found your eyes instantly glued to the veiny expanse of his ghostly white arms, the callous of his knuckles, the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed when he swallowed nervously and-

No… this is wrong! You repeatedly to yourself mentally. Reluctance, sweat running down the back of your neck, this awkward knot in your stomach. You felt confused. This had to be wrong. He probably didn’t really feel this way. Not about you, anyway. Monokuma influenced this for sure… obviously. How could he see you as an ideal? There was no way… you had to get out of here… back to your room and…

But then again… this was a dream. Your mind wandered. This was some kind of freakish lucid dream that you could be aware of and be in control of. Who could fault you for enjoying a dream? When would you ever get an opportunity like this - with your crush of all people - ever again? Maybe you should just… let go… enjoy the night.

Nagito, now devoid of his coat, crossed his arms at his pelvis, taking up the bottom hem of his white t-shirt and began to lift it with the intent to remove it altogether, exposing his belly button and the veins that ran down his lower abdomen. He looked to you for approval. He couldn’t help but notice that even with his eagerness to please, you had a twisted expression on your face. It was uncertain, puzzled, maybe upset with his efforts? You certainly weren’t paying attention to him, that was for sure. He let go of the shirt, and it fell back into place.

“Am I still disappointing you?” His words brought you back to the present, and you looked him up and down once again, stepping a bit forward and back fully into the suffocating ambience of the suite. You were tempted, so very tempted by the mere sight of him. Monokuma had said this was a building of lust and romance. “It is to be expected. I am a total filthy useless loser, and you are the epitome of goodness and cleanliness in this world.” He spoke matter-of-factly, now approaching you again, circling you like a hawk with it’s prey. “Hmmm… well maybe, you aren’t as clean as you’d like people to think?” Suddenly, more forceful than you’d ever seen him, you found yourself pushed back, up against the wall, and he held you there, pinned by his own body weight.

“N-Nagito!” You sputtered, more shocked by the position he now had you in than than anything else so far on this very strange night. But wasn’t he all submissive just a second ago? This is what you meant by volatile, unstable…

“Ah well, that’s fine with me, as long as you’re the ray of hope the world needs you to be outside of the bedroom…” His thin fingers trailed up your forearms until they met your hands. Interlocking your fingers with his own, he forced them up and beside your head, locking you into place against the red wall. You swallowed, suddenly feeling very small. His eyes seemed dreamy, lazily glazed over and sultry. A crooked smirk formed upon seeing your flustered reaction. “I have no issue changing strategies…” He leaned forward, whispering suggestively into the shell of your ear. He could feel you tremble at that, content to let him take over. “Your reactions are quite telling.” His grip slipped down from your fingers to your wrists. There was a shit-eating grin, a condescending tone behind his seemingly effortless bravado.

What you were starting to realize was that Nagito could be whoever he needed to be at any given moment in order to meet his goals. In an instant, he could change and adapt. His personality shifted just like that. You questioned how the groveling servant-like act from before could flip into this dominant, aggressively contrasting performance, but that was just it. Nagito’s fantasy was to be the stepping stone that would support and propel the greatest hope the world had ever seen to glory, to have that beacon of hope see him as useful and genuinely feel like he means the world to them. He did this by enabling them to do their best, whatever the cost, therefore, their fantasy was his fantasy. Being what they needed and wanted, that was all he wanted. Their pleasure was his pleasure, like an endlessly looping cycle. You didn’t seem to respond well to the sniveling slave character, so now, he would show you that you could be made to submit to him, that he could be your ideal and force you to relinquish control. If that’s what you wanted, he would fill that role.

His grip on your wrists tightened, a bit painfully. You sucked in air through your teeth at the pressure. He was so lanky and thin, you’d never guess he was this strong. You probably couldn’t shake him off unless you used your full strength and and the boost of an adrenaline rush. Your eyelids fluttered closed, finally accepting the blissful feeling this dream could provide.

“I can tell you like this… You’re trying to hold back all reactions and sounds, but you should just let go… I know already… I know~” He teased, leaning in until his forehead touched yours. The closeness, the invasion of your personal space excited him. He truly didn’t have many opportunities for physical touch in his life. Knowing it was with his ideal match, this experience, all of it set his heart ablaze in his chest. “Who would’ve thought? Heh, wait until the others hear you’re not so innocent…” You knew Nagito as one who never missed a beat, that’s why he was so useful in class trials and during investiagations. So of course he noticed when your bottom lip quivered and the tiniest, quietest moan escaped the depths of your throat. He exhaled amusedly, a puff of satisfaction through his nostrils. A checkmate of sorts. “Oh? You seem to like even the threat of me telling…” He was smug, so very smug.

“N-No, that’s not true…” You breathed out an overstimulated, constrained response.

“You want me to be meaner to you?” It was posed as a question, but he wasn’t asking for permission. Without waiting for a response, he firmly pressed his mouth to yours, lips enveloping your own. Your head tilted to meet his, melding perfectly into each other. Your hands itched, begging to be allowed move, to run your fingers through his hair, but he wouldn’t release his grip on your wrists. He loved to feel you struggle against him. Pulling back from the kiss, he allowed you a moment of air. “Okay, okay… I’ll extend this one little kindness…” he whispered, throaty and intoxicating. He let go of your left wrist, using that hand instead to move to the front of your pajama shirt. He popped upon the first button with a single graceful movement. With your newly freed hand, you savored your first little taste of the cloud-like texture at your fingers. You were in heaven. His hair was just as fluffy and soft as you’d always imagined.

As his fingers descended down and down, removing the obstacles of every button in his way, you looked over his shoulder at the expansive, lavish bed behind him. It seemed a very long night was ahead of you.

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