multiversumenjoyerofhappines

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

can you do sayaka maizono x reader where reader stops sayaka from being a blackened and comfort her.

A/N: Sure! The reader's gender wasn't specified, so I made them Gender Neutral :}

Despair’s Quiet Hour

Sayaka x GN!Reader

Warnings: Attempted Murder Planning, Isolation/Despair, Violence, Death Mentions, and Psychological Distress/Breakdown

Word Count: 1957

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The atmosphere in Hope’s Peak Academy had grown cold. Not literally- though the sterile hallways offered little comfort- but emotionally. A shadow of something dark and inevitable loomed over the students.

The motive had been delivered.

A video. Just one. Personalized and cruel. Each student received a glimpse of their loved ones in jeopardy. Threatened, vanishing, abandoned- whatever would spark the deepest kind of desperation.

(Y/N) hadn’t watched theirs.

They had taken the DVD into their hands, stared at it for a long moment, and quietly placed it aside, face-down. If it was meant to break them, then what was the point of even letting it in? Let the unknown gnaw at the edges of their sanity; they would rather hold onto a sense of control, however fleeting.

But others hadn’t made the same choice.

Tension grew sharp like glass in the air. Whispers and worried glances passed between students. Some were silent, others visibly trembling, and Celeste- cold and composed as ever- articulated it best.

“A classic prisoner's dilemma,” she had said, barely a ripple in her voice. “Everyone believes someone else might kill… and that fear drives action.”

(Y/N) stood off to the side, eyes watching, mind distant. But their gaze always returned to Sayaka Maizono.

Sayaka had been unraveling. Slowly. Quietly. At first, it was easy to miss- the way her smile grew more brittle, how her eyes lost their warmth. She had started pulling Makoto in closer, wrapping herself in his kindness like armor. But (Y/N) saw through it. Not out of cruelty, but understanding.

Sayaka was terrified. And desperate.

The group had decided, perhaps foolishly, to speak about their videos- to share what they'd seen. They thought maybe if they talked it out, the fear would dull. But Sayaka… she didn’t share.

And when Makoto, sweet and oblivious as ever, gently asked her what was in her video- placing a concerned hand on her shoulder-

Everything cracked.

“Stop it!” Sayaka shouted, her voice high and shaking. “Don’t touch me- just stop!”

She shoved Makoto back, her breathing erratic. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears before she turned and bolted out of the room, footsteps fading into the hall.

Silence followed.

Most just stared after her, too stunned to speak.

But not (Y/N).

They watched her go, a frown settling over their features. That reaction wasn’t born of guilt or anger- it was panic. Something inside Sayaka had snapped, and (Y/N) was the only one who seemed to see the threads unraveling before they ever broke.

Without a word, (Y/N) turned and left.

They didn’t chase her. Not yet. Maybe they should have. But instead, they wandered the hallway back to their dorm, the cold silence of the school swallowing them.

The hours passed with an oppressive stillness, the kind that wrapped itself around the mind like fog. (Y/N) lay on their bed, staring at the ceiling of their dorm, counting the cracks they’d already memorized days ago. Sleep wouldn’t come. It hadn’t for a while. Not since the motive.

Not since Sayaka.

Eventually, the stiffness in their joints and the coiling tension in their chest became too much. They stood, stretched, and quietly left their room. The halls were supposed to be off-limits at night- a rule they’d all nodded along to when it was first proposed. A naive attempt to maintain peace. (Y/N) hadn’t cared then, and they didn’t care now. If someone was going to kill, they wouldn’t wait for daylight to do it.

The dim lights cast long shadows along the corridor, and (Y/N)'s footsteps echoed lightly against the tile. It wasn’t until they passed Sayaka’s dorm that something tugged at their instincts. They slowed.

Something was wrong.

Their eyes drifted to the door plates.

Makoto Naegi.

Sayaka Maizono.

Switched.

“Hm.” The quiet hum slipped from their throat, neither surprised nor alarmed. But curious. Alert. A chill ran up their spine- not from fear, but from something deeper. Intuition. Something told them to stay.

They melted into the shadows on the far side of the hallway, leaning against the cold wall, arms crossed loosely as they waited. Minutes passed. The silence ticked on.

And then- footsteps.

Leon Kuwata emerged from the far end of the corridor, walking with an uneven rhythm. Nervous. His eyes darted around, and he didn’t notice (Y/N) at first. He stopped at the switched doors, hand hovering near the doorknob. But before he could go any further-

“Leon.”

He flinched like he’d been shot. Whipping around, his eyes widened at the sight of (Y/N), half-shrouded in the dim lighting. He held a crumpled slip of paper to his chest like a lifeline.

“I- I…!” he stammered, voice barely above a whisper.

(Y/N) stepped forward, expression unreadable. Calm, but firm. “What are you doing?”

Leon swallowed hard, then deflated. His shoulders slumped as he looked down at the note. With a deep breath, he held it out to them.

(Y/N) took it, unfolded the paper, and read it silently. 

“There’s something I want to talk to you about, just us two. In five minutes, come see me in my room. Check the nameplates to make sure you don’t get the wrong room, okay?”

Sayaka’s name was signed at the bottom.

“She asked you to come here?” (Y/N) asked, eyes still on the note.

Leon rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… I mean, I thought… maybe she needed help. She looked really shaken earlier. I just wanted to hear her out, y’know?”

(Y/N) stared at him for a long moment. Then, quietly: “Go back to your room.”

“What? But-”

“Now, Leon.”

He hesitated, biting his lip. “Are you sure? I mean… I don’t think she’d hurt anyone, but…”

“She won’t,” (Y/N) said simply, folding the note and slipping it into their pocket. “Trust me. Just go.”

Reluctantly, Leon gave a final glance at the door- Makoto’s door, now labeled “Sayaka”- then nodded. “Alright. Just… be careful.”

Once he was gone, (Y/N) stood alone in the hallway. The silence returned, deeper now. Thicker.

They turned to the door.

Knocked.

The door creaked open after a few moments of silence.

Sayaka stood in the threshold, her blue eyes wide- startled. But not in the usual, wide-eyed-idol way. This time, her surprise was real, raw. It took a second before she said anything.

“(Y/N)…?”

Neither moved.

They simply stared at one another, a heavy silence passing like a fog between them. Sayaka’s fingers clenched at her side. (Y/N) tilted their head slightly.

“You gonna let me in, or…?”

Sayaka hesitated, her breath hitching, but then stepped aside, wordless. (Y/N) entered slowly, eyes scanning the room.

And then they saw it.

The knife.

Tucked awkwardly behind Sayaka’s back, as though she hadn’t expected to still need to hide it. As though the plan had already been in motion. (Y/N)’s expression didn’t shift. No fear, no outrage. Just calm understanding.

Their gaze dropped to the weapon.

“So…” they said softly, motioning toward it, “you were planning on killing him, huh?”

Sayaka flinched.

Then her features twisted- not in guilt, but something else. Anger. Grief. Desperation.

“You… you’re ruining everything!” she snapped, voice cracking. “I-I had a plan… This wasn’t supposed to happen…”

(Y/N) sighed gently, stepping forward. They didn’t look like they were judging her. And that only made the guilt sink deeper.

They reached for her hand- the one still clutching the knife- and gently raised it until the cold metal was pressed against their throat. They met her eyes, unwavering.

“If you want to kill someone,” (Y/N) murmured, “do it. What are you waiting for?”

Sayaka froze.

Her eyes went wide again, but this time there was something else in them- panic. Her fingers began to tremble. The blade quivered against (Y/N)’s skin, though they didn’t flinch, didn’t blink.

“What…?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Why is it so hard now? Isn’t this what I wanted…?”

Her knees buckled. The knife clattered to the floor.

And she broke.

Sayaka collapsed, but (Y/N) was already moving- catching her before she could hit the floor, arms wrapping around her trembling frame.

She clutched at them like she was drowning.

“I was going to make it look like Makoto did it…” she confessed into their shoulder, barely more than a whisper. “That’s why I asked him to switch rooms with me. I thought- if I could just do it… then maybe I could leave… save them… the others… my friends…”

Her voice cracked again, raw and childlike now. “I didn’t want to kill him. I didn’t. I just- I didn’t know what else to do…”

(Y/N) held her closer, one hand running lightly through her hair.

“I know,” they said, quietly. “I know.”

They didn’t say she was right.

They didn’t say it was okay.

But they understood.

Sayaka wasn’t evil- she was just desperate. Like all of them. Trapped in a twisted game where even hope could become a weapon. Where fear tore people apart before violence ever had to.

“You don’t have to do this,” (Y/N) murmured. “You’re not alone.”

The knife lay forgotten on the floor, catching the dim light like it no longer mattered. Its presence meant nothing now. The moment had passed. What could’ve been a tragedy had unraveled into something far more fragile- just a girl, breaking under the weight of a world too cruel for her.

(Y/N) gently guided Sayaka toward the bed, one arm around her shoulders, the other steady at her back.

“Come on,” they whispered. “Sit down… just breathe.”

She obeyed, her movements stiff and slow, as if her own limbs betrayed her. But when she sank into the mattress, it was like the last of her defenses melted away. Her fingers clung to the fabric of (Y/N)’s sleeve as they sat beside her.

(Y/N) pulled her close.

Not with hesitation or fear- but tenderness.

Sayaka rested her head against their chest, the warmth of another heartbeat grounding her in a reality that didn’t feel like a nightmare for once. Her tears had slowed, but she still shook faintly, as if the guilt and pressure hadn’t quite loosened their grip.

“You’re not a bad person,” (Y/N) murmured into her hair. “You’re scared. You’re hurting. And that’s okay.”

Sayaka didn’t answer. She just curled closer, like maybe if she made herself small enough, she could forget everything. Or maybe… just maybe… she could finally feel safe.

(Y/N)’s hand moved slowly, rhythmically, through her hair. No judgment. No questions. Just presence. Quiet, steady comfort in the middle of a storm.

The silence stretched, but it wasn’t empty anymore. It was full of unspoken things: forgiveness, sorrow, fragile hope.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” they said softly. “Whatever happens next… I’ll be here.”

Sayaka tilted her face up just enough to meet their eyes. There were still tears clinging to her lashes, but her gaze was softer now. Raw, vulnerable.

“Why…?” she asked, voice barely audible. “Why are you being so kind to me…?”

(Y/N) gave a small smile, brushing a thumb under her eye to wipe away the wetness there.

“Because I see you,” they whispered. “The real you. And you don’t deserve to fall apart alone.”

Sayaka blinked at them for a long moment, then slowly rested her head back against their chest. Her breathing began to even out, and for the first time in what felt like days, she wasn’t acting- wasn’t performing for anyone.

Just existing.

Just being held.

And (Y/N) held her like she was something worth saving.

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

can you do Chiaki x male!reader where chiaki is bullied by someone and reader protect her

A/N: Of course!

Saving Progress…

Chiaki x Male!Reader

Warnings: Bullying/Verbal Harassment

Word Count: 1172

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hallway was unusually quiet after class, a hush settling over the school like the calm before a storm. Chiaki Nanami stood at her locker, her eyes lowered as a taller student loomed over her. The boy’s voice was low but cruel, laced with mocking laughter as he knocked a game cartridge from her hands.

“What’s the matter, Nanami? Gonna cry because I messed up your little toy?” he sneered.

Chiaki didn’t answer. She just knelt to retrieve the cartridge, her fingers trembling slightly. She wasn’t the type to fight back. She rarely said anything at all.

“Hey.” The voice came sharp and steady from behind the bully. (Y/N) had just turned the corner and saw the scene unfold- saw Chiaki’s quiet discomfort and the smirk on the other boy’s face.

The bully turned. “Mind your business.”

“This is my business.” (Y/N) stepped forward, his expression unreadable but his tone low and warning. “Pick on someone who deserves it. Or better yet- don’t pick on anyone at all.”

The bully scoffed. “You gonna stop me?”

(Y/N) didn’t flinch. He didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard. “Yeah. I will. Walk away, or I’ll make sure everyone knows just how tough you are when you’re not cornering people half your size.”

A tense beat passed. Then, with a muttered curse, the bully shoved past them both and stalked off.

Chiaki looked up, blinking. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly, standing with the cartridge held close to her chest.

“I did.” (Y/N) offered a small smile, brushing dust from her shoulder. “You okay?”

Chiaki nodded slowly. “Thanks... I didn’t know you cared that much.”

“I do,” he said simply. “You matter. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you don’t.”

For the first time that day, Chiaki smiled.

After the hallway incident, (Y/N) didn’t leave Chiaki’s side.

She had tried to brush it off with her usual quietness, acting like nothing happened, but (Y/N) wasn’t fooled. He could see the way she kept glancing at the floor, her shoulders tense and her steps smaller than usual as they walked toward the courtyard.

“Wanna sit for a bit?” he asked softly.

Chiaki gave a tiny nod. He led her to their usual spot- under the big tree near the back of the school grounds, where the sun filtered through the leaves and everything felt just a little more peaceful.

As they sat down on the grass, Chiaki pulled her hoodie sleeves over her hands and rested her head lightly on (Y/N)’s shoulder. It wasn’t unusual for her to do that. But this time, she stayed there longer… like she needed it.

(Y/N) smiled gently and shifted so she could lean against him more comfortably. “You can stay like that as long as you want.”

“Mm.” Her voice was muffled, sleepy. “You’re warm.”

“So are you,” he said with a little chuckle. “Like a sleepy cat.”

Chiaki closed her eyes, the corners of her mouth tugging up. “Then I’m your sleepy cat now.”

(Y/N)’s heart melted. “I’m completely okay with that.”

He gently wrapped his arm around her, careful not to startle her, and let his thumb rub slow, soothing circles along her shoulder. She hummed at the contact, a small sound of comfort.

The breeze rustled the leaves above them, and for a moment, everything felt safe- like they were in their own soft little world.

“I’m glad you were there earlier,” she murmured. “You made me feel… protected.”

“I’ll always protect you,” he said quietly, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “You don’t ever have to go through things like that alone.”

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she tilted her face slightly and pressed the lightest, most grateful kiss to his shoulder.

The next few days passed in a soft blur.

Chiaki found herself gravitating toward (Y/N) more than usual. She always liked his company- his calm presence, his gentle voice, the way he never forced her to talk when she didn’t want to. But now, her heart did this odd, fluttery thing whenever he looked at her a little too long or smiled just for her.

It was new. Strange. Not unpleasant.

She was used to feelings in games- affection points, character bonds, romance endings unlocked with dialogue choices. But real-life feelings? She didn’t have a health bar to monitor. No tutorial to guide her.

Still, she knew one thing.

She really, really liked (Y/N).

And it made her nervous.

So, she did what she knew best: she showed it in the smallest, most Chiaki way possible.

One afternoon, she waited by his locker, clutching her handheld console to her chest like a plush toy. When (Y/N) spotted her, he lit up like always, that warm smile she could never get enough of.

“Hey, Chiaki,” he said, gently nudging her shoulder. “Were you waiting for me?”

“…Maybe.”

“Wanna hang out?”

“…Only if you want to.”

He laughed softly. “I always want to.”

They ended up in her dorm room this time, sitting cross-legged on her bed surrounded by pillows, game cases, and half-finished snacks. Chiaki handed him one of her extra controllers.

“It’s a co-op game,” she said, eyes lowered. “I… wanted to play it with you first.”

(Y/N) looked surprised for a moment, then touched her hand briefly- just a brush of fingers, but enough to make her ears turn pink. “I’d love to.”

They played for hours, shoulders touching, quiet laughter filling the room. Every now and then, Chiaki would sneak glances at his face, her heart stuttering like a lag spike. He was so focused, so kind, even when they made a mistake in the game. He never got frustrated. Just smiled and said, “We’ll get it next time.”

Eventually, they beat the boss, and Chiaki did something brave.

She leaned into his side, resting her head against his chest this time instead of just his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For always being nice to me.”

(Y/N) blinked in surprise, then wrapped his arms around her gently, holding her like something precious.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured into her hair. “I like being with you, Chiaki. I really, really do.”

She felt like her whole body was blushing. But she didn’t pull away.

Instead, she nestled closer, curled up in his arms like a content little player two.

“I really, really like you too…” she said quietly, just barely above a whisper. “Even if I don’t know how to say it right sometimes.”

(Y/N)’s heart felt like it was glowing. He squeezed her a little tighter, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“You said it perfectly.”

And for the first time in a long time, Chiaki wasn’t thinking about high scores or game endings.

She was just thinking about how nice it felt to be held by the person she liked most in the world.

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

today is Mikan birthday! Happy birthday for our favorite nurse

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

Williams and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

Hi, im ultimate street artist nathan and you can ask me anything

(and btw I used to call ultimategraffitiguy but SOMEONE created a account with similar nickname to slander me because I told him to touch grass)

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

Hey i want to explain something

There is a account called „ultimate graffIti guy” Who is owned by that Aoi simp. (The difference is big I) he stole my OC and do weird things with them

If you ever get a weird ask by him, it wasnt me

Im writting this because im tired of being blocked by others because they mistake me with that fake account.

All i ever wanted to request a danganronpa stuff and have fun, but people blocking me doesn’t help me.

I already was blocked by Chihiro ask account and others.

@ask-chihiro-fuisaki14-roleplay, if you somehow can read this, i dont know why you blocked me, but whatever this not nice guy write to you, it wasnt me.

Please of someone with nick similiar to Mine offend you, check twice the nick

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

//So just to clarify, ultimategraffitiguy is a normal user and just sends normal posts.

//ultimategraffltiguy is a account used by that crazy Aoi fan and needs to be blocked and reported.

//Remember if after the double fs it’s a i, they’re cool. If it’s a l then block, block, and block.

//I tried to stay silent about this since addressing would lead to more harassment from that Aoi fan and I didn’t want to give them attention but now people are confusing the two accounts and it’s leading to mistaken identity.

//This is fraud and identity theft of the highest order and I implore anyone to double check the usernames.

//ultimategraffitiguy if you are reading this sorry this happening to you and maybe change your pfp so this doesn’t happen again, people are less likely to ban you if it’s got a custom pfp to it and maybe do some modding on it so if it gets stolen and copied, its obvious to see when its been plagriused.

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

*sunnedly scp 999 appear at the voidship and start hugging random person*

Awwww that's nice, though a bit werid a slime is hugging me.

Are you sure that's okay Aoi, didn't the Anon that sent that ask be the same one who-

No they aren't. This Anon's user name is "ultimategraffitiguy"

The one used by that bastard is "ultimategraffltiguy" and has since been blocked.

So its a cause of identity fraud where someone innocent is being framed for what they are doing?

Yes and its really annoying when that happens as its someone taking advantage over your good name!

*SCP-999 makes sad cat noises and glomps Aoi*

Ahhhh I need this, thanks.

I hope that SCP being on here doesn't mean any of the others would be.

Then again aren't Abnormalities just more recent SCPs?

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

saimatsu week day 3 not on day 3: reunion

they do be sobbing

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

SEND ME REQUESTS WOOF WOOF I NEED SMTH TO DO AnD IM BOREDDDDDDD WOOF WOOF WOOF

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

Splash of Life

Sypnosis: A cute painting date between the ultimate Nurse, Swimmer and Graffiti Artist in Aoi's backyard. But what happens when the guy known for his vast creativity runs short on ideas?

"Mikan? Aoi? What is all this?" Natan breathed out, his heterochromatic eyes trailing over the high, brick wall that loomed dover them.

The two women in question only turned to him with bright smiles. The younger of the pair, Aoi, only grabbed his hand and began to tug him into the construction. Mikan followed the pair as they stopped in front of the wall. She nodded her head. "Mhm! The owner didn't like how blank it was and wanted to decorate it. So we recommend you to help," she stuttered.

Beside the wall was a small site. Protective plastic had been placed over the concrete floor. On a small table, cans and buckets of paint— supplied by the owner— were set. A small stepladder was sat beside the table too.

"Ta-da! So what do you think? Your own mini studio!" Aoi chirped, her hands shimmering as she displayed the scene. Her grin was wide as she presented it.

Natan couldn't help but pause, taking in the sight. He felt a wave of excitement hit him. Though the two girls couldn't see it behind his mask, his lips had tugged into an appreciative smile. "It's amazing, thanks," he spoke his voice soft. Both the swimmer and nurse silently cheered before pushing him further towards the wall.

It wasn't long before they set to work. Mikan and Aoi both left to let the property owner know of their arrival, while Natan stared up at the structure. Though this was only done with heavy urging from the former. As he stood on front of the daunting white fabric, nothing seemed to come to mind.

Art was his thing. Paint, colours and pictures always leaped from his subconscious at the mere sight of a blank surface. Now, for the first time, he was stuck. In search of the smallest of comfort, Natan turned to the corner where he last saw the duo. Aoi could be heard, enthusiastically telling the owner about Natan and his skill and while Mikan stumbled to offer a few words of praise of her own. The gruff voice of the property owner could be heard as he hummed along with her words. From what could be heard, everyone was excited to see what he'd do with the space.

However, Natan was still drawing blanks. His good eye bored into the roughened bricks — almost as if the action would provide him with an answer. When it became obvious that it wouldn't, he let out a defeated sigh. He sank to the floor and closed his eyes to calm himself. Just then, the two girls returned, still buzzing with glee.

Seeing that— the sight of Natan on the floor— a pair of baby pink flitted to his sunken posture. They immediately worried at the sight. "Huh? Wait, Natan!" she breathed, her soft voice rising in pitch with panic. The nurse immediately sprung into action and rushed to the artist. She dropped to the floor and began checking on him. Aoi, now also alarmed by Mikan's panic, looks over to the scene. She quickly follows.

"Woah! Are you okay?! Natan?!" She blurted out , her eyes scanning over the pair. Despite how worried she was, since Mikan was more knowledgeable on medicine that the herself, she stood to the side.

Natan, now noticing their presence, turned his head to meet their gaze. He gently reassured them of his health status, "Nah, I'm good. Just... stuck." His head turned to the blank wall again.

Aoi hummed in thought, now also looking up to meet the object of his attention, "Sounds tough." She tapped her chin in thought when a timid voice broke through their thoughts.

"Why not just paint what you're feeling? Or maybe something that inspired you?" When she realised they two pairs of eyes were now burning right into her, Mikan doubled down and began her usual stutter. "I mean, that's what a lot of artists do, right? I read it somewhere that when they get art block, they just draw their feelings." Bandaged fingers twiddled and mingled with one another as her already soft voice grew even softer.

Natan gave a hum in thought as he acknowledged his partner's opinion on the matter. Then, it raised the question; how was he feeling right now?

It seemed that he hadn't had any issues. His grades were beginning to slip a little. He ran into Sonia, who rattled him even further. So— in his opinion — he was just fed up with everything. The only unusual thing was that he was here— sitting with his girlfriends, in a tent, int form of blank, surrounded by paint. Four of the best things in his life, yet his mind was drawing blanks!

With a soft sigh, he began to really sink into his feelings. He was happier now— sitting in the middle of all his favourite things. How precisely could he covey that in an art piece. And then, it hit him. Natan suddenly shot up and pressed a kiss to Mikan's forehead through his mask. The latter only gasped in shock as a bright shade of pink dusted her cheeks. Aoi watched in silence as she bit back her jealousy.

As they both watched him move to the table, the bright blue of the back of his jacket met their gaze. He scurried around for a little while before grabbing a few cans of spray paint. Natan hurried back to where they were and stood before the formerly daunting wall. "Hey, could you please back up. I don't wanna get paint on you," he murmured, now shaking a can. The ball rattled inside before he raised it to the cloth. Respecting his wished, Mikan and Aoi then shifted away from Natan to let him do his thing.

The can hissed as it sprayed paint to taint the white. Line after line, a design slowly began to form. Now sensing that their boyfriend was back on track, both Aoi and Mikan decided to give him space to work. They engaged in idle conversation as they waited. It didn't take long for the sound of constant movement and shuffling to cease. Suddenly curious, pale blue irises flicked to peek at his work. Her jaw fell open.

In bright, bold letters, the words 'Splash of Life' had been sprayed on the walls. The design was simple, seemingly still missing something...

And it seemed that she wasn't the only one who thought so as she found Natan, standing in front of it with a contemplative expression. Without even looking away from the wall, he softly murmured, "Could one of you please give me some more paint?"

Mikan, hearing his request, immediately jumped at the opportunity to help. She grabbed a bucket of pink paint and began to make her way over to him. Surprise to no one, she tripped over her own feet and fell straight down to the ground. The paint went splattering everywhere on the floor and even got on the wall. Both the swimmer and nurse paled at sight, their jaws dropping to the floor as their eyes nearly bulged right from their skulls. Silence fell over the trio as the thick liquid trickled down the surface in thick globs.

Then, inspiration struck. With sparkling eyes, Natan turned to the nurse on the floor. "Mikan... You're a genius!" he exclaimed. Both the girls stared at the artist as though a screw had loosened from his head. They gave each other wary looks. But their concern confusion didn't last long as he turned to them with the brightest eyes they'd seen on him in a long while. "You'd do that again, right? Please?"

Natan's hands clasped together and the pair couldn't find it in their hearts to resist such a plea. With each showing amusement in their gaze, they all went to grab a bucket of paint from the small station provided. After setting a portion of it aside (no wasting of materials will be done in this household), they got to work. Colour after colour, splashes and splatters began to decorate the wall to give it thar extra dose of life it so desperately needed. And after waiting for the paint to dry, Natan redid some of the details that had been lost in the chaos.

Letting out a sigh of satisfaction, the masked artist slowly withdrew himself from the newly decorated surface. Pride and admiration glimmers in the eyes of all three Hope's Peak students. And at that particular moment, the owner of the building rounded the corner. "It's been a while, I trust everything is proceeding nice–"

He stood, frozen, as he took in the sight of their hard work. He then began to applaud. And if the trio had squinted, they probably would be found a crystalline tear forming at the corner of his eye. The pride they'd all felt only seemed to multiply at the wordless praise. The property owner then began to sing his own song of praise— commenting the use of colour, shape and line and it really spoke to him as the viewer.

This went on for several minutes.

By then, Aoi had gained a deadpan expression on her face. Mikan had begun to stare at the man with mild concern and fear. And Natan couldn't help but feel awkward under the endless onslaught of praise. All three of them watched the older man dance in front of the wall as he droned on and on about its excellence.

Then, the man snapped his head and locked eyes with Natan. The younger flinched at the sudden action. In mere seconds, the owner was in front him, clasping the boy's hands in his own as more words of approval flowed from his lips, "You have a talent, my boy! It's best you embrace it in as many opportunities as possible. Hold on, I must tell my friends! They'd love to hear of this!" And with that, he was off, leaving a few very confused teenagers behind him.

All three of them blinked in disbelief at the scene before a soft giggle was heard. One turned to two. And that spread to the third. Soon, all three of them were laughing with one another— doubling down and hugging their stomachs. Once the amusement died down, they stared right back up at the wall again.

The air was thick with smell of paint, but seemed light, despite of that. They all stood in silence before the man returned yet again. He held his phone in his hand. "Please me that you'd grant me the honour of taking your photo, young man!" he exclaimed, already charging towards the artist in question who only stiffened slightly.

Aoi gently shoved her lover to him with an encouraging smile, "Go for it! He worked hard, so he deserves it!" Mikan only gave a nod of agreement as the boy stumbled closer to the man. It wasn't long before he was set in front of his work and everyone else stood a fair distance away to capture the both in the frame.

After a brief moment, Natan blurted out, "Hold on!" They all paused, now looking at him with mild confusion. Before they could even begin tk question him, he continued, "Can my girlfriends also be in the photo? They helped out a lot in this too. It only feels right."

The property owner only shrugged and gave the go-ahead. Both girls rushed over to their boyfriend with gleeful grins and stood on each side of him. After deciding on a pose, the picture was taken. Everything about it screamed lively— the art, the light, the brightened look in their eyes, their smiles.

Aoi immediately approached the man to view the photo and asked that he sent her a copy. After a brief discussion, filled smiles and wild gestures, an agreement was made.

Now, they picture is hung in a spot— safe from paint and any other harmful or damaging materials— on a wall in Natan's studio. As he works, he occasionally finds himself glancing and smiling at the sight and memories it brings forth.

Thanks a lot to @ultimategraffitiguy for the request! Honestly, this was a but of a challenge since Ive never really written polygamy before surprisingly. Especially with such different characters. So it was a fun challenge.

Honestly, this took way longer than I expected and it killed me. Tell me why it took so long long even find a date spot for them!! There was first the beach, but I couldn't because of Natan's scars (could've been a cute fic. Now, I'm invested🤔). I wanted the aquarium, but I was worried about Mikan's fear of large things. Then, I actually GOOGLED date ideas. I wanted something calming, so I could focus on the characters, instead of the date itself. So eventually, painting stuck and this came out.

Now that I think about it, I might make a part 2 with the beach idea. It sounds pretty cute overall...🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️)

Liked my work? Check out my other masterlists!

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

Verosika x male!reader dating headcannons please

A/N: Of course, @ultimategraffitiguy! Verosika is one of my favorites :}

Mine, Loud and Clear

Verosika x Male!Reader

Warnings: Sexual themes, Possessiveness/Jealousy, Arguments/Conflict

Word Count: 943

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- Verosika was the one who made the first move: Obviously, she knew what she wanted the second she laid eyes on (Y/N) and didn't waste a second before flirting shamelessly, practically daring him not to fall for her.

- At first, (Y/N) thought he was just another target for her to toy with: But when she started genuinely caring whether he texted her back or if he smiled at her during a date, she realized she was in deeper than she meant to be.

- He surprised her by not being easy to push around: Not hostile, but just solid enough that he didn’t let her walk all over him. That infuriated and attracted her all at once.

- In public, Verosika loves flaunting their relationship: Clinging to his arm, stealing kisses, tracing a claw up his chest with a mischievous smirk while other demons stare. "What? You think I'm gonna hide how hot my man is? Dream on."

- Dates are extravagant if she plans them: Exclusive clubs, private concerts, trips to weird, beautiful corners of Hell- but (Y/N) tends to suggest things like movies, walks through busy streets, or greasy, hole-in-the-wall diners. Somehow, she ends up loving his ideas even more.

- Verosika flirts like breathing: Constantly, effortlessly, shamelessly. She'll whisper dirty things right in (Y/N)'s ear in the middle of a crowded room just to watch him blush and stammer like a fool.

- Her favorite thing? Making him squirm: She’ll drag a finger up his thigh under the table, lean in way too close, brush her fangs against his ear as she pretends to "ask a question"- all while acting totally innocent if anyone notices.

- (Y/N) learned quickly that challenging her only makes her worse: "You’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna rattle me, babe." Cue Verosika grabbing him by the collar and proving she absolutely can rattle him.

- Possessive as hell… but fun about it: If another demon so much as looks at him the wrong way, she’ll pull him into a kiss so deep and smug it leaves him dizzy. When they pull away, she'll smirk at the onlookers with a "he's mine, back off" kind of look.

- She loves leaving marks: Hickeys low on his neck, nail scratches on his back, lipstick smudges on his mouth- anything to make sure everyone knows who he's with.

- (Y/N) finds out she's extremely physical when she’s really in the mood: grabbing, pinning, climbing into his lap without warning, sitting in his chair and pulling him down into a kiss until he's gasping.

- Dirty talk? Constant. Merciless: "Careful how you look at me, sweetheart... I might have to drag you somewhere private and ruin you." She loves watching his face heat up- it’s almost a game to see how fast she can get him flustered.

- She teases him about his reactions nonstop: "Aww, look at you. All red for me? You're adorable." And if he tries to flip it and tease her? Good luck. Verosika loves a challenge- she'll escalate until he's the one begging for mercy.

- When she’s feeling extra playful, she’ll dress just a little more scandalous if she knows they’re going somewhere public: Tiny skirts, plunging tops, tail flicking at his knees- all so he struggles to keep it together while she acts totally innocent.

- But it’s not just physical: Sometimes, when they're alone and it’s quiet, she’ll crawl into his lap, bury her face against his neck, and mumble soft, sultry promises against his skin. (Y/N) can always tell when it's not just teasing- when it’s real and vulnerable underneath all the heat.

- Verosika loves when he gets bold: If (Y/N) ever turns the tables- like grabbing her waist and pinning her to the wall mid flirt- it drives her crazy. She loves that tiny flash of dominance from him, especially because she knows she’s the only one who gets to see it.

- (Y/N) learned quickly that Verosika is a jealous creature, even if she tries to play it cool: If anyone flirts with him, she immediately stakes her claim- usually with a kiss that leaves him dizzy and the offender looking for the nearest exit.

- But behind closed doors, she softens: She loves sprawling across (Y/N)'s chest after a long day, her wings loosely draped over him, lazily tracing little patterns over his skin with her nails while they talk about absolutely nothing important.

- Verosika secretly treasures the little, normal things he does: Holding the door open for her, tucking her hair behind her ear, bringing her a drink without her asking. She’ll tease him mercilessly about it, but she will have the biggest smile on her face the whole time.

- Whenever she’s stressed or overwhelmed (which happens more than she’ll admit), she finds herself instinctively seeking him out: Even if it's just to sit next to him while she works through her thoughts. He’s one of the only people she trusts enough to see her without all the glamour. No makeup, no elaborate outfits, no show. Just Verosika- tired, gorgeous, and real.

- When they fight (because they do), it's explosive: lots of shouting, dramatic exits, slamming doors- but (Y/N) never lets her go to bed angry. He’ll find a way back to her, even if it’s just leaning against her door and muttering a stubborn, half-sincere "I’m not leaving until you hear me out." - Verosika never thought she'd settle down: She never even amused the idea she would care so much about someone else's happiness, but (Y/N) somehow made it feel easy- normal, even. She still won't admit she's "soft," though. Not yet.

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

Can you do platonic sera x overlord!reader multipart/fanfction?

The lore: The Y/N is a powerful overlord who own entertainment district of pentangram (he posses velvet tea and Vox souls after they tired to kidnap Charlie, val dies lol) also he’s best friend of alastor and Charlie Morningstar. During one of this meeting with his subordinates vox and velvette they noticed something was fallen from heaven, they goes to check this out only to find out fallen sera and VERY hurt and wounded Emily, after he find out they known Charlie he help takes Emily to hotel, where lucifer helps Emily with her wounds. Y/N calm down sera enough to she could tell what happened in heaven. In heaven after sera approved Charlie plan after extermination, where due to that pentonius reddemed himself, lute somehow thanks to other seraphim’s, which convinced that hell and their allies are the danger managed to overthrow sera and the rest seraphim’s who were on sera and Emily side and she (lute) brought totalitarian rule to heaven.lute kills pentonius for being a “spy” and BRUTTALY injures Emily (she lost wings, right leg, left hand and the right eye) and banish her and sera to hell. She also planned in 6 months organize the final extermination, where he plans to kill all people not only from hell but also on earth.

A/N: Yes, of course! This one took me... Way longer than I thought it would LOL. Got it done though! Gonna start working on my other requests now, since this was the one I was solely focusing on, trying to get it done :} Also, fair warning, I didnt have all the colors I wanted for their dialogue. (Y/N), Charlie, Alastor, Sera, and Emily all have specific colors, buttttt... Everyone else doesn't. Sorry, but I did what I could.

Ashes of Grace

Sera x Overlord!Male!Reader

Warnings: Religious themes, Violence/Body horror, Death, Torture/Enslavement, Corruption of authority, Genocide/Extermination, Substance use

Word Count: 4868

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Pentagram City rarely slept. And neither did its monsters. Between the sleaze and sin, the neon-soaked streets, and the endless echoes of jazz and gunfire, power shifts were as common- and as violent- as the weather.

When Valentino’s body finally hit the floor, burned out and twitching under the weight of a wrath he'd never anticipated, the District changed forever.

At the center of it all stood (Y/N)- a name now spoken in equal parts awe and terror. A new overlord, born not from vanity or greed, but something deeper. Something biblical.

His rise hadn't just been loud; it had been seismic. After Velvette and Vox made the mistake of trying to kidnap Charlie Morningstar- Hell’s favorite princess, and (Y/N)'s dearest friend- (Y/N) retaliated with fire and iron. Velvette and Vox now belonged to him, their souls shackled to his service. Sometimes figuratively, sometimes... not. They wore their chains like tarnished jewelry, reminders of the price of betrayal.

Valentino didn’t get that luxury.

He died.

And with him, the District fell.

What rose from the ashes wasn't just a new territory. It was an empire of creativity, ruthlessness, and control- no longer just a playground for abusers, but a stage for something greater. Alastor, always amused by chaos, had grinned wide at the news. Charlie, overwhelmed, had cried when it was over, throwing her arms around (Y/N)'s shoulders.

"Thank you," she whispered against him, her best friend…

(Y/N) only nodded, hiding the smoldering rage still burning deep in his bones.

A week passed. And inside his repurposed theater, (Y/N) lounged in a battered chair at the head of a heavy oak table, eyeing Vox and Velvette with lazy disinterest.

The two former overlords sat like petulant children, glaring daggers at anything but him.

"Don't act so bitter," (Y/N) drawled, resting his chin in one hand. "You're lucky I didn't turn you into lawn ornaments."

"I'd rather be one," Velvette muttered under her breath. "At least I had free will before."

Before (Y/N) could reply, something flashed through the high, smoke-clogged sky.

Not light. Not in the Hellborn sense.

It was something... higher… And it was falling fast.

Vox stiffened, staring upwards. "...That came from upstairs."

The theater doors slammed open, and they raced outside.

What they found wasn’t a crash site. It was a massacre.

The crater still smoked, shards of shattered halos glittering in the ash. Feathers- too white, too pure- floated like dying fireflies through the air. In the center, two figures lay broken.

One was barely breathing- her right leg severed, her hand gone, one eye torn out, her wings sheared off like scrap paper.

The other, though bleeding and shaking, was already dragging herself upright. Protective. Furious. Radiating raw divinity even through the grime.

(Y/N) approached carefully, his hands open, head tilted like a curious wolf.

"...You're angels," he said slowly. "Do you know Charlie?"

The seraphim’s expression cracked. She nodded, voice raw. "Yes... She's... our friend."

That was all (Y/N) needed.

Without hesitation, he lifted the mutilated one- Emily-into his arms. Gentle, despite the gore. His voice was low, steady.

"Then you're not enemies," he said. "You're survivors."

The Happy Hotel had seen its share of strange guests. But even here, Emily’s condition turned every head.

Charlie gasped the second she saw her, rushing forward to help. Vaggie barked sharp orders at Angel and Husk, clearing the lobby with military precision. Alastor, all false grins and real concern, set up a makeshift recovery area with eerie efficiency.

Then, Lucifer Morningstar himself swept in, as radiant and ridiculous as ever.

"Charlie!" he boomed, voice theatrical. "I came to see if-" His words cut off the second he spotted Emily. “Oh, fuck…”

Then Lucifer dropped to his knees beside her, pressing a glowing hand over Emily’s shattered body. His usual swagger softened into something almost tender.

"Hold on," he murmured. "We can fix you."

Hours later, after Emily stabilized under a blanket of maigc and careful hands, (Y/N) sat across from the still-shaking seraphim- Sera.

She couldn’t sit still. Pacing, flinching at every noise. Until finally, (Y/N) stood and placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Breathe," he said quietly. "You're safe."

Slowly, she exhaled. And spoke.

"After Sir Pentious... After he came to Heaven, some of us began to question things," she said hoarsely. "Charlie’s idea of redemption didn’t seem so crazy anymore. Emily and I... we supported it. We gathered others. We tried to change things from within."

Her voice broke.

"But then came Lute."

The name seemed to leech the warmth from the room.

"After losing her arm in the fight you all had, she twisted everything. She called Charlie a devil. Called the hotel a trap. She rallied the fearful and the bitter... and they listened. Heaven turned into a machine."

Sera’s fists trembled.

"They hunted us. Emily and I were caught trying to flee. She... She ripped Emily apart. Then she banished us here, as a warning."

At the doorway, Charlie stood frozen, fists shaking.

Sera turned to face them fully.

"And it’s worse than that. She’s planning a Final Extermination. In six months. Not just Hell. Not just sinners. Earth, too."

Silence fell like a blade.

(Y/N) straightened, shadows unfurling around his boots. His voice, when it came, was steel.

"Then we’re not just saving Hell anymore," he said. "We’re saving everyone."

...Far above, Heaven's Throne Room had changed...

Where once golden beams warmed marble floors, now the light was colder, harsher, casting long skeletal shadows.

Lute sat perched atop a jagged throne, once a Exterminator- now a Leader.

A trembling seraphim bowed low before her.

"All remaining supporters of Sera have been purged. The rest... converted."

"And the traitors?" Lute asked. Her voice was a metallic hiss.

"Banished or destroyed."

She rose, wings unfolding in sharp, almost mechanical snaps.

"In six months’ time," she declared, "there will be no Hell. No Earth. Only perfection. Heaven will ascend through fire."

The court erupted in cold cheers as the corrupted seraphim spread their wings.

Back in the Happy Hotel, Emily’s eye fluttered open.

She was alive. Battered. Different. But alive.

Charlie was instantly by her side, gripping her hand tightly.

"You’re safe," Charlie whispered. "I promise."

Emily tried to sit up, her body aching with every movement.

"C-Charlie...?"

"Yes, it's me. Don’t worry. We’ve got you."

Lucifer, leaning nearby, flashed a crooked, nervous smile.

"Only because bleeding out on my daughter’s carpet is absolutely unacceptable. Bad for the aesthetic," he said, lightly. Then, more serious, he added, "I healed what I could. Your leg, your hand... But your wings..." He trailed off, frowning. "Those may take more work."

Tears welled in Emily’s remaining eye.

"Sir Pentious... He's really..."

Lucifer’s face darkened... Charlie just hugged her tighter.

Across the room, Sera sat curled at the bar, silent. Husk, uncharacteristically gentle, pushed a mug of something nonalcoholic toward her.

Nearby, Alastor watched with predatory curiosity.

"So," he said brightly. "Heaven’s fallen into the claws of a madwoman. Your friends butchered. Your hopes dashed." He smiled wider. "Welcome to Hell."

Sera flinched.

"We tried," she whispered. "We tried to save them. We believed in Charlie's dream..."

(Y/N) approached quietly, Vox and Velvette trailing behind like resentful ghosts.

"You still believe in it?" he asked.

Sera looked up, tears brimming.

"Yes."

He nodded once, a grim glint in his eye.

"Then we fight."

From the couch, Angel Dust cackled, tossing a grenade from hand to hand.

"About time! I’ve been dying to throw hands with someone uptight!"

It didn't take long for one of the Hotel’s many rooms to be taken, and changed. Celestial maps sprawled across walls and floors. Candles flickered wildly against the cracked stone.

Around a heavy oak table stood Lucifer, Charlie, Alastor, and (Y/N)- each face carved with focus.

"She wants to erase everything," Charlie said, voice tight. "Not just sinners. Everyone."

Alastor chuckled, low and eerie. "An ambitious apocalypse. I almost admire it."

(Y/N) planted his palms on the table, voice low and furious.

"We can't just defend. We strike first."

Charlie nodded fiercely, fire blazing in her eyes.

"We’re going to stop her. We’re going to prove we matter."

Lucifer clapped a proud hand on her shoulder.

"That’s my girl."

The mood was heavy, but not hopeless. A tense undercurrent thrummed through the room, setting everyone on edge. Maps and blueprints lay scattered across the table, papers weighed down with empty mugs and books. Sera stood at the center of it all, tracing a slow line along a map with two fingers, brow furrowed.

Around her, the others listened in silence. Charlie, Lucifer, (Y/N), Alastor, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, and Emily- propped up in a wheelchair and bundled in fresh bandages around her shoulders- watched with focused, anxious attention.

"Most of Heaven’s 'Winners' are still willing to listen," Sera said, voice low but steady. "They aren't like the Angels. They're just... humans. Humans who died and moved on. They remember. They can think for themselves."

Charlie tilted her head thoughtfully. "But what do they have to do with all this?"

"If we’re going to have any support up there, it'll be through them," Sera replied. She glanced around the room. "Lute’s seized control of Heaven’s higher ranks. She's convinced most of the Angels, crowned herself their queen. But the Winners... they’re still undecided."

(Y/N) crossed his arms, the gears already turning behind his narrowed eyes. "We could start a rebellion inside Heaven itself. Get the truth out before Lute locks everything down."

Sera gave a sharp nod. "Exactly. But we don’t have much time. After Emily and I fell, Lute accelerated her plans. She’s preparing the final phase right now."

"Then we don't just defend anymore," Lucifer said, his voice darkening. "We invade."

Sera met his gaze without flinching. "We hit fast. We send the message. And we take Lute out before she can trigger the Final Purge."

As the meeting dissolved into quieter preparations, Angel Dust wheeled Emily back toward her new room, a soft pink guest suite Charlie had thrown together- full of pillows, gauzy curtains, and delicate little touches meant to comfort. Emily was quiet, shrinking into herself, the overwhelming changes of the past days pressing in on her.

Angel, never good with heavy silences, plopped into a chair beside her and swung an arm lazily over the backrest. "So," he drawled, "how’s it feel bein’ the first angel who didn’t try to shank me on sight?"

Emily managed a weak, almost surprised smile. "We were taught that... souls in Hell couldn’t feel... I knew no different until I met Charlie."

He snorted and bumped her elbow with his. "Yeah, well, guess we’re full of surprises down here. Welcome to the club, doll."

She blinked, absorbing that, then tentatively leaned against him. "Thanks... for not being thrown off by me."

"Pfft." Angel waved it off. "Sweetheart, I’ve seen worse. Hell, you look better than half my dates."

"...I’m not sure if that’s comforting."

"It ain’t. But it’s true."

Later that evening, the corridors of the hotel grew quieter. Emily, wrapped in a simple jacket Charlie had picked out for her, made her way slowly down the hall. Every step was stiff, awkward- her balance thrown off.

Pushing through the swinging doors, she made her way to the bar, wincing as she hoisted herself onto a stool. Husk looked up from polishing glasses, one ear twitching as he noticed her.

"Not servin' you liquor, kid," he muttered, voice rough. "Charlie’d have my ass."

"I don't want a drink," Emily said quietly. "I just... wanted noise. Not pity."

Husk grunted, setting the glass down. "You walked pretty far," he said, more observation than praise.

Emily let out a hollow little laugh. "Didn’t want to stay in that room. It's too... Quiet."

She tapped the side of her head lightly. "When it’s that quiet, all I can hear is screaming from outside..."

Husk didn’t flinch. He just leaned his weight against the bar and nodded slightly, like he understood all too well.

They sat in silence for a while, broken only by the low hum of the fridge and the occasional clink of glass against glass.

Eventually, Husk broke the quiet. "Why’d you come down here, really?"

Emily hesitated, looking down at the frayed sleeve covering her wrist. "Because... I think I'm scared." Her voice cracked slightly. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be anymore."

For a moment, Husk simply stared at her. Then, with a grunt, he reached beneath the bar and pulled out a battered, worn playing card- the Queen of Hearts. Its corners were frayed, a small tear across the center.

"My last hand in a real poker game," he said, sliding it across the bar to her. "Lost everything. Still survived."

Emily stared down at the card like it was something sacred.

"You’re giving this to me?"

"Loaning it," Husk corrected. "For luck."

She tucked the card against her chest like armor, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "Thanks," she whispered.

"Don't thank me. Win the next hand."

Meanwhile, across the hotel, final preparations were underway. In the lounge, Lucifer clapped his hands sharply, drawing everyone's attention.

"Our infiltration team, then," he announced, a glint of theatrical excitement in his eye. "Charlie- the optimist; Sera- the righteous outcast; Emily- our fallen helper; and you, dear (Y/N)- the wildcard’s wildcard."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. "You gonna narrate the whole mission?"

"Only the dramatic parts," Lucifer quipped, giving him a large smile.

"...So basically, all of it," (Y/N) muttered.

Charlie, ever the peacemaker, cleared her throat gently. "We have three objectives: reach the Holy Gates, rally the Winners to our side, and remove Lute before she can lead an attack."

Lucifer’s playful air faded slightly, replaced by something colder, sharper. "This isn’t just about Hell anymore. Or Heaven. This is about Earth. About proving redemption isn't some cruel joke."

Sera met his gaze and nodded once, solemn. "Then we strike fast."

At Lucifer’s gesture, a portal shimmered open in the air, unstable and crackling with divine static. It glowed like a tear in reality itself- liquid gold and silver threads of light straining to stay woven together.

Charlie approached the portal first, her hands trembling slightly, though her face was set with determination. Opening a portal to Heaven from Hell was unnatural, dangerous- and it showed. The light bled into the floor, the walls, everything it touched humming unnervingly.

"We don't know how long it'll hold," Lucifer warned. "Maybe a few hours. Maybe less if you screw around too much... Portals like these aren't usually supposed to be opened from this side..."

(Y/N) adjusted his coat, checking the weapons strapped across his hips. Nearby, Vox and Velvette watched, their usual smugness tempered by real worry. Sera tightened her grip on her sword, the blade gleaming faintly. Emily secured Husk’s playing card near her heart, her new sword slung awkwardly across her back.

Together, they looked ready.

Charlie turned back to Lucifer, her eyes fierce. "We’ll be back."

Lucifer smiled- but it was a fragile thing, brittle at the edges. "I know," he said.

Without another word, they stepped through the portal- and into stillness.

The air on the other side was cool, quiet in a way that felt... unnatural, like the whole world was holding its breath.

The gates loomed ahead, bathed in blinding light that offered no warmth. The team emerged slowly, blinking against the unnatural brilliance. Emily exhaled shakily, her hand tightening on her sword.

“The gates aren't usually... empty,” she muttered.

Normally, Saint Peter would have stood watch. Now, there was only silence.

(Y/N) swept his gaze over the endless marble sprawl before them. The architecture was grand, opulent- but it felt hollow, abandoned. Like a stage after the actors had fled mid-performance.

Sera muttered under her breath, voice strained. "This isn't right. Something's wrong."

Charlie tightened her grip on her staff, glancing nervously at the others. "We need to move. Fast."

They slipped forward through the eerie stillness, boots whispering over immaculate stone. Statues of angels lined the path, their faces twisted into expressions that were almost... pained. Not the serene smiles Heaven was famous for.

Emily limped slightly, favoring her newly healed leg, but kept pace grimly, the Queen of Hearts tucked safe against her ribs. She refused to slow them down.

As they neared the first courtyard- a vast open space dominated by a towering monument of silver and gold- (Y/N) raised a hand sharply. "Wait."

Movement… At first, it was just a ripple, like a heat mirage. Then forms began to materialize.

Dozens. No- hundreds.

Figures stepped out from the edges of the courtyard- Winners, eyes shadowed, hesitant. They were armed with angelic weapons- some with swords, others with halberds or spears- but none of them attacked.

Instead, they just... stared.

One woman near the front- a thin, graying soul with sharp cheekbones, hollow eyes, and large bunny ears- took a step forward.

"You're the ones who escaped," she said, voice cracking.

Her gaze landed on Sera, then Emily. "You came back."

Charlie stepped forward quickly, heart hammering in her chest. "Please- we’re not here to fight you. We’re here to stop Lute. To save everyone."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some looked uncertain. Others terrified. A few- a precious few- hopeful.

(Y/N) moved to stand beside Charlie, his voice carrying clean across the courtyard. "You know what she’s planning," he said coldly. "You’ve seen the signs. The exterminations... the disappearances. Heaven isn't salvation anymore. It's a slaughterhouse with a crown."

Silence.

Emily, breathless and shaking, found her voice. "I lost everything because I tried to help," she said, voice trembling but steady. "Sera and I... we saw the truth. If you stand with her, you'll lose yourselves, too."

A long, agonizing pause.

Then- a man near the back threw down his spear.

It clattered against the marble with a ringing finality.

One by one, others followed. Weapons dropped. People stepping out of their neat little lines, their faces raw with emotion.

The graying woman stepped forward again, her hands shaking.

"We follow you now," she whispered

(Y/N) let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Charlie pressed a shaking hand to her mouth, overwhelmed.

Sera looked ready to collapse from relief.

But before anyone could celebrate-

A loud banging sound tore through the air. Mechanical. Shattering. It echoed through the bones of the city like a death knell.

Charlie paled instantly. "She's coming."

From above, like a thundercloud, Lute descended. Around her, Exterminators unfolded from the shadows- sleek, brutal things, all flashing blades, baring their masks.

Lute smiled- a cruel, hateful one. "So this," she hissed, "is your rebellion?"

The newly turned Winners hesitated, fear rippling through their ranks.

(Y/N) stepped forward without hesitation, drawing his blade in one smooth motion, the tip glinting with something darker than metal.

He didn’t need to shout.

His presence alone was command enough.

Emily braced herself, lifting her sword with both hands. Sera set her jaw, raising her blade to guard. Charlie lifted her hands, trembling- but with fire in her eyes.

Lute laughed, the sound hollow and electric. "So be it," she said. "You can all burn together."

The Exterminators surged forward.

And the battle for Heaven began.

Lute met (Y/N)'s charge head-on, screaming a soundless war-cry, her wings flaring out wide like a specter of vengeance.

Their blades collided- but (Y/N) didn’t yield. He pressed forward, every strike hammering her defenses, forcing her back with sheer will. Charlie fought at his side, her eyes glowing with desperate red light, every swing of her claws another prayer hurled like a weapon. Sera drove her blade home again and again, ignoring the golden blood leaking from her side where a blade had caught her earlier. Emily, staggering but unbroken, struck too- a shallow cut, but enough to make Lute snarl and stagger.

The four of them moved like a single force. Hope. Anger. Love. Defiance.

"You're DONE!" (Y/N) bellowed. He struck low- a brutal, gouging slash across her knees.

Sera was already moving, her sword flashing upwards- tearing open Lute’s exposed side. And Emily- battered, exhausted Emily- threw her sword with everything she had.

The blade spun through the air- and punched through Lute’s heart.

The world seemed to stop.

Lute gasped, golden blood streaming from her mouth. Her wings spasmed violently, the corrupted light sputtering. Her eyes, so cold and cruel, flickered- fear flashing through them for the first time.

She fell to her knees.

"You… can’t…" she rasped.

(Y/N) stood over her, breathing hard, the others gathering behind him.

"You already lost," he said, voice quiet and absolute.

Lute tried to lunge one last time- a desperate, broken advance-

(Y/N) drove his blade through her throat.

The light died.

Lute crumpled, falling limp onto the marble. The Exterminators, leaderless, gave in, most either fleeing, or tossing down their weapons in defeat.

Across the courtyard, the everyone fell silent.

The battle was over. For a long moment, none of them moved.

The only sound was the ragged breathing of the survivors.

Then, slowly, Winners who had fought alongside them began to move through the carnage, beginning to clear the battlefield- gathering their fallen, offering silent prayers.

An eerie, heavy silence settled over Heaven’s once-pristine halls.

At the center of it all, (Y/N) stood with Charlie, Sera, and Emily.

Sera wiped her blade on her tattered dress and sheathed it slowly. She walked over, Emily limping close beside her, the two of them visibly shaken but steady.

Sera stopped before them, and for a moment, the words caught in her throat… Then she bowed- a deep, respectful gesture.

"You saved us," Sera said, her voice rough but sure. "You saved Heaven."

Emily offered a trembling smile, her bandaged hand pressed to her heart.

"You saved us," she echoed. "And... maybe yourselves too."

Charlie shook her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "We saved each other."

Sera smiled- soft, sad, but real. She looked at the group- at Charlie, at (Y/N), at Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Alastor lingering just out of the bloodstained light.

"I hope," Sera said, "that one day... when your mission fully succeeds... when Hell isn’t just a prison anymore... we’ll see you all again."

She swallowed hard, her hand brushing against her sisters.

"In Heaven."

Emily nodded fiercely, emotion thick in her throat. "You deserve it," she said. "Every one of you."

(Y/N) tilted his head slightly, a faint smile curling the corner of his mouth- something tired, but deeply grateful. "We'll hold you to that," he said.

Behind them, the golden portal by the gates- flickering dangerously now- shuddered violently, cracks spiderwebbing across its edges.

Lucifer’s voice echoed from near the portal, "Time’s up! If you don’t wanna get stuck up here with the corpses, MOVE!"

Charlie turned, urgency snapping her back into motion. She grabbed Vaggie and (Y/N)'s wrist, tugging them toward the portal. Sera and Emily stepped aside, watching them go with solemn pride.

One by one, they sprinted toward the portal, battered and bruised- but alive. Alastor practically skipped through, humming under his breath. Angel Dust threw an exaggerated salute at Emily before diving in backward. Husk grumbled something about Emily keeping the card he gave her under his breath, but followed close behind.

The light swallowed them all.

And then- with a soft shuddering sigh- the portal collapsed, leaving only the broken battlefield and the survivors behind.

Above the battered gates of Heaven, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the light began to soften. No longer harsh. No longer cruel.

But warm.

Hopeful.

And far below- in a hotel full of sinners and misfits- redemption no longer seemed like just a dream.

The group stumbled out of the collapsing portal like survivors of a storm. They hit the lobby floor hard, some collapsing onto couches, others simply dropping where they stood.

Charlie sagged against the wall, clutching her chest, gasping huge breaths of smoky hotel air like it was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted. Angel Dust sprawled dramatically across a bench, one leg draped over the backrest. "We’re alive! Suck it, Heaven!" Vaggie just dropped onto a nearby chair, burying her face in her hands with a weak laugh. Husk growled low in his throat, shuffling over to the bar- which Charlie didn’t even bother to scold him for.

(Y/N) stood a little apart from them all, his shoulders tight with exhaustion but his eyes still sharp, scanning every corner like he expected another attack.

Alastor straightened his coat with a little flourish, looking barely ruffled despite the battle they'd just fought. He approached, that permanent sharp-toothed smile a bit softer now- genuine, in its strange, predatory way.

"My, my," Alastor said, voice lilting. "I knew you had potential, but even I didn’t expect that little symphony." He gave (Y/N) a low, mocking bow. "You have my admiration."

(Y/N) snorted quietly. "Coming from you, that's... concerning." But a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Charlie pushed off the wall, her footsteps slow but determined, and closed the distance between them. She stopped in front of (Y/N), looking up at him with an expression so open, so grateful, it nearly staggered him.

"You didn’t have to do this," she said quietly. "You didn’t have to stay." Her voice wavered, just slightly. "But you did. And you saved so many more lives than just ours."

(Y/N) reached up, brushing his knuckles lightly under her chin, tipping her head just a fraction higher. "You’re my friend," he said simply. "That's all the reason I need."

Charlie’s throat bobbed in a thick swallow. She reached out impulsively- wrapped her arms around him in a tight, fierce hug. For a second (Y/N) froze- then he exhaled, slow and warm, and wrapped his arms back around her, grounding her.

Alastor watched with a faint tilt to his head, the smile on his face unreadable, but his red eyes softened around the edges.

When they finally pulled apart, Charlie’s smile was damp and glowing. "You’re one of us," she said. "No matter what anyone says."

(Y/N) ruffled her hair lightly, making her sputter a weak laugh- before his expression turned a little wry.

"...Speaking of things that belong to others," he muttered, voice dry.

Across the lobby, Vox and Velvette- looking thoroughly miserable- stood awkwardly by the doors. Velvette noticed him looking and made a dramatic gagging motion. Vox simply scowled, his screen flickering with static annoyance.

Charlie giggled nervously at the sight, covering her mouth. Even Alastor chuckled low in his chest, the sound like an old radio popping on.

(Y/N) sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. I better get the gremlins back to their cage before they start redecorating."

He turned back to Charlie and Alastor one last time, catching their expressions- tired but proud.

With a mock salute, (Y/N) turned on his heel and strode across the room. He grabbed Vox by the back of his stupid designer jacket and yanked him forward, ignoring the glitchy cursing. Velvette followed, grumbling under her breath.

The front doors of the Hotel creaked open with a slow, eerie groan. (Y/N) paused just once in the doorway- glanced back over his shoulder.

At the threshold, the warm, battered light of the Hotel spilled across the floor behind him. It caught the edges of his coat, the lines of his frame, silhouetting him against the chaos they'd left- and the strange, imperfect hope they'd returned to.

Charlie stood watching him, Vaggie at her side, Angel Dust waving lazily from his perch. Alastor leaned on his cane nearby, grinning wide but... almost actually looking happy, while Husk offered a casual two-fingered salute from the bar.

(Y/N) let the corner of his mouth quirk up- a tired, crooked smile- and gave a simple nod.

Then he turned, dragging his reluctant prisoners with him, disappearing into the neon-drenched night of Pentagram City.

Outside, the air buzzed with tension and distant sirens and screams, the streets littered with scattered debris from the city’s usual violence. But somewhere under all the rot and grime, a pulse beat- faint, stubborn. The pulse of change. Of something new.

Inside the Hotel, Charlie wiped her face quickly, sniffling once before straightening her back.

"We're going to make this work," she said quietly, but with growing conviction. "We're going to fix this. All of it."

Vaggie squeezed her hand tightly. "We will."

Alastor chuckled, adjusting his tie. "The world will never know what hit it."

Angel Dust sprawled further across the bench with a groan. "Wake me up when it’s time for the afterparty."

Husk just muttered into his glass, "We better get a damn good one."

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

Aoi asahina x gn!reader fluff headcannons.

🌤️ — Aoi is my girl ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 here we go, enjoy!

°.✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩.°

❝ Donuts for two. ❞

— FANDOM: DANGANRONPA: TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC

— PAIRING: AOI ASAHINA x GN!READER

— ROMANTIC/PLATONIC

— HCS

— TW: BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR, OOC.

°.✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩.°

☆ ┈ First of all: she adore you soo much.

☆ ┈ Aoi shows her affection through physical contact.

☆ ┈ Do you feel sad, or maybe you just want to be attention? Not another word! Aoi will hang on your neck, cuddling you, giggling.

☆ ┈ She likes just holding hands, hugging you, or even giving you a friendly pat on the back or shoulder. Even if you didn't ask for any of this, she will still literally suffocate you with her attention and affection.

☆ ┈ She won't care if there are people around, Aoi is not shy about your relationship or friendship and believes that it is absolutely normal to do this in public.

☆ ┈ She will often wake you up in the early morning so that she can spend more time with you lol.

☆ ┈ Aoi trusts you as much as she trusts herself, so she will often tell you some secrets or other things that she would not want others to hear.

☆ ┈ Aoi is strong enough, and it's not a problem for her to lift you up and spin you in the air during a hug.

☆ ┈ It often happens suddenly, so I hope you don't suddenly scream.

☆ ┈ Although she herself feels depressed after the murders, if she notices that you are sad too, she will try to cheer you up so that you feel better.

☆ ┈ If a donut appears in the nearest kilometer from the two of you, it seems to me that you will run towards it at the speed of light to treat each other.

☆ ┈ Aoi is quite protective towards you, and maybe she can go fight with someone who has something against you.

☆ ┈ Congratulations, you are now in a trio with Sakura and Aoi.

☆ ┈ Actually, I don't see any disadvantages.

☆ ┈ If you can swim, she will often invite you to swim in the pool together.

☆ ┈ If you can't, then she'll try to teach you, and if you just don't like swimming, well, at least keep her company by the pool! Please?

☆ ┈ Aoi has the most ridiculous pet names, but that's the beauty of them.

☆ ┈ Brags to others about how cool you are. Don't argue with her, you are cool.

..:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟﾞ｡.:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟ🌤

🌤️ — I like her c: hope you like it, have a good day ☆

[multiversumenjoyerofhappines]

Today is 24 April and the birthday of our favorite swimmer Aoi asahina.

Happy birthday Hina!