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floraxxfauna · 4 days

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⌜ropes, komaeda nagito⌟ waking up with a blindfold on and rope around your limbs there's not much choice ships ⎯⎯ komaeda nagito x fem!reader tropes ⎯⎯ yandere, unhealthy dynamics, bondage, masturbation, blindfolds, dubious consent

The bindings around your wrists did nothing to deter your protesting pulls against them. The rope burned your skin, raw to the touch and leaving tingles through your arms down to your core. Despite your opened eyes there was nothing before you. A black abyss created by the material around your eyes.

Where were you? The comfortable mattress beneath your back was familiar, you could feel the bundled pile of your comforter at the end, and a delicious smelling pillow laid under your head. Bed. You were in your bed.

You turned your head to where the window is, but no light protruded through the blindfold. Your nose ruffled on the pillow, you inhaled the scent as you tugged in the rope once more. The smell… it was familiar but it was not yours. It smelt salty with fresh pine. Almost like that of an earthy cologne.

Faint grunts left you as you pulled further on the rope, your legs flailing at the edge of the mattress in your frustration. Nothing. The knots were far too tight. Who did it? You had been sure you’d locked your door the previous night.

But, clearly, you were wrong. Your ears prickled at the soft moan around you. It wasn’t completely close by, certainly not near your bed, but the noise had come from your cabin. You lifted your head and attempted to sit up, though the far looser restrains on your feet made it difficult. It left you half up in the air with a surely confused and scared expression.

You dug your nails into your palm as you grit your teeth. The rope seemed to be connected; you pushed your left arm forward to test the theory, only for the right to be pulled back. Was it around your bed frame? You never focused on its design, the island had too many other factors to admire, but you could recall the two edge posts.

Which only made you sigh. Those posts just had to be connected to the top of the bed, where the curtains were. You wouldn’t be able to lift the rope from it.

Another moan, only it was a bit louder. You heard rustling as the next noise grew muffled. Someone was definitely there. Watching you. What were they waiting for? Did they enjoy watching their prey struggle? At least your death would be somewhat unique…

You titled your face down to your shoulder, the same cologne smell was around the material of your clothing. Your mind ticked, was it your clothes? The last you can recall you were in shorts and a bra, not the overly large top you could feel bunched at your waist. You pushed your thighs together to feel for more material, but your crotch was entirely bare.

Did the sick pervert change you? Was that why they were moaning?

Your name. You heard it though it was barely whispered through the air. A whimper followed the call and you angrily tugged on the restraints keeping you tied to your bed. More rustling occurred, and the slightly wet noise startled you in your place. “Who the fuck are you?”

There was no answer, you weren’t expecting one to occur anyways. Instead, the person simply moaned again, but made no attempt at keeping it silent. Deep and throaty. That was the only way to describe it. The raw noise had sweat build on your neck as you attempted to look around the room to stare the stranger down through your blindfold.

Sloppy noises echoed in your silence. If you had been able to see, you were sure that the person in your cabin was touching themself. Despicable. Their moans grew louder as the movements sounded as through they matched the rhythm. Fast. Desperate. You continued to struggle on your bed to try and break free: hopefully the rope was breaking as it rubbed against the frame.

You had to get free. It was one thing to die when you had been warned of it weeks beforehand — but you would rather not get someone to orgasm over it. You could hear them get more excited the more you struggled, your name followed with giggles and whimpers only made your skin tingle.

The smell of cologne was so familiar. You knew you had smelt it before. Just as you had heard the voice before. You kicked against the comforter and rubbed your thighs together — Nagito had always caused your self respect to disappear.

His attention had always made your heart flip. Even as his eyes danced with madness and he chuckled over planning his own death: you always fell victim to the song he would sing. Your morals had always been strong, steadfast, but just the idea of Nagito enjoying something you would soon follow.

If it was Nagito watching you now, if he was the one who tied you to your bed and was touching himself to your attempts at escape… you were already feeling the temptation lick at your skin. Did he like seeing you like this? You attempted to adjust yourself so that your legs pointed toward where he would be, spreading them so he would be able to see your bare cunt.

He wouldn’t kill you. He never intended to kill anyone! Nagito was more a danger to himself and everyone’s sanity. You knew that yours had fallen victim long ago. “Did you put me in your shirt?” He was a tall man, one who wore clothing that was about ten sizes too large, and he had once joked that you would be able to fit into his hoodie. Your eyes rolled back at the idea of his shirt on your skin, how your body would drown in the material.

You leaned your head back onto the pillow and arched your back — it must mean that it was his pillow that you laid on. Does that mean he knew where yours went? It had gone missing during dinner. Did he steal it? You whimpered softly into the room, your eyes rolling back, did he touch himself with it?

Did Nagito ride the pillow while imaging it was you? You hoped so. His moans had stopped but you could hear the slow movements of his hand. Had you surprised him? Was he proud? You dangled your fingers around the rope on your wrists, pulling it as you rubbed your thighs together.

You needed friction. Wet slick stuck to your inner thighs as your mind lost itself in the fantasies. You could hear footsteps on the canon floor, each step light despite the purpose they held. Was he leaving? You didn’t care if Nagito had you tied up, but you couldn’t have him leaving you! Your lips wobbled, but the fear disappeared as the blindfold was pulled from your face.

It took a moment to adjust to the soft lighting around you. Candles. Lots of candles all lit around your room as the night sky glowed through your window. The curtains on the canopy were tied back, you could briefly see the petals of roses along the floor.

But, most importantly of all, you saw Nagito. His eyes were just as dizzy as they always were, but he had them wide as he stared down at you. His lips were pursed, did he want to kiss you? Could he? You needed to feel the touch of him against you. His overly large hoodie slipped from his shoulders and you whimpered at the defined collarbone it showed.

He wasn’t wearing anything else. You stole a glance at the shirt you wore, the same one he had been wearing just earlier that night. Your hips rolled into the air as you moaned for him, wrists pulling on the rope. “Beautiful,” he finally spoke and you felt as though you had began glowing under his praise.

A bony finger slid down your cheek and you leaned into the touch with soft eyes. It was all him. Everything you needed in life was him. You felt his erection in your thigh as he leaned over you, warm precum pooling down your skin. Was it salty? You needed to taste.

“Nagito,” you whispered it to him without breaking eye contact. He seemed surprised at first, before the handsome smile you adored blessed his sunken face. His long hair seemed more wild than earlier, you went to play with it only for the rope to pull your hands back down, “need you.”

Was he happy you weren’t upset? Please say he was. You needed him to be proud of you. His fingers danced to your lips and you sucked without a moments notice. Salty goodness bloomed on your tongue and you happily moaned around his fingers.

“The trust you have in someone as worthless as me,” he laughed to himself with that wicked grin you adored. How could it scare people? The passion behind it had always seduced you more than anything else, “I do not deserve to touch someone so beautiful.”

You pushed your chest up to him as his other hand cupped your cunt. Already, you made a squelch just from the soft tap. “Yours,” you mumbled it around his fingers but Nagito understood you regardless, you knew it as his eyes softened. The rope burn around your wrists was nothing but sweet pain you craved more of.

It would make the perfect reminder of your first night with the man you worshiped.

#nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #super danganronpa 2 #nagito danganronpa #danganronpa nagito #komaeda nagito smut #nagito smut #komaeda smut #nagito komaeda smut #danganronpa smut #danganronpa fanfic #danganronpa 2 fanfic #danganronpa 2 smut #super danganronpa smut #super danganronpa 2 smut #⌜writing⌟

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hopeymchope · 5 months

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Naegiri One-Shot: Lyrical - "What Can You Lose?"

Lyrical - What Can You Lose? on AO3

Lyrical - What Can You Lose? on Fanfiction.Net

Summary: Late one night, Makoto Naegi is pacing the halls of Hope's Peak when he hears someone playing the piano in the Music Room. Upon investigating, he eventually learns that he and Kaede Akamatsu are being kept awake by similar struggles.

Intro Note: Happy Naegiri Week 2023, everybody. The story below (under the cut) takes place in the "Ultimate Talent Development Plan" timeline where the cast of V3 is the 79th Class of Hope's Peak.

I hope you don't mind taking your Naegiri with a side dose of Saimatsu...

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In the Music Room at Hope's Peak Academy, Kaede Akamatsu was seated at the piano with her eyes closed. She was playing a slow, somber-sounding piece of music without looking at the sheet propped up in front of her. And she was so focused on what she was playing that she didn't notice when the door to the room opened.

Makoto Naegi cleared his throat loudly, which got the desired reaction from Kaede. She stopped playing immediately and spun around to see him standing by the door, gently shutting it behind him.

Kaede blushed, thrown off by the visitor. "Oh!"she said. "Uh, h-hi, Naegi-senpai! I-I was-"

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," Makoto said, smiling politely. "I just heard the music, and I-"

"-Wondered who was playing the piano at this hour?" Kaede finished, smiling back as she attempted to regain her composure.

"Of course I suspected it'd be you, Akamatsu-san," Makoto told her. "You're the first person that comes to mind when I hear the piano playing in here. But also because that music didn't sound something Maizono-san or Mioda-senpai would play. Compared to their tastes, this sounded far softer and a lot... well, sadder."

Kaede beamed when she responded. "You're right about that. It's a piece by Stephen Sondheim - he was a famous American lyricist and composer. He wrote the music for a lot of famous Broadway shows like Into the Woods and Sweeney Todd. Plus he did the lyrics for West Side Story and Gypsy." She began to speak faster, her eyes lighting up. "He has so many awards and so much respect that theater musicians call him a god of the industry, and he was an incredible jazz-style pianist, too! Oscar Hammerstein was a surrogate father to him and mentored him, so he was brought up by one of the all-time greats in musical theater, surrounded by the most extraordin-... uh, extraordinary... "

She cut herself off and closed her eyes. After a deep breath, she said "Sorry" in a soft voice. "I can get carried away when it comes to music."

"Don't be sorry," Makoto told her. "I love your passion. It's awesome — admirable, even! Besides, trust me: I know how easy it is to get worked up when you really feel gung-ho about something."

Kaede regarded him skeptically. "I realize I don't know you that well, senpai, but... I somehow have a hard time picturing you getting 'worked up' or 'gung-ho.' What brings that out in you?"

He glanced sideways and laughed a little. "I suppose what mostly gets me going is unfairness? As in, things that feel... unjust."

"Well, the song I was just playing is from a movie that might be up your alley, then," Kaede said with a grin. "It's an American film based on a 1930s comic strip from their newspapers - Dick Tracy."

Makoto shrugged. "Can't say I'm familiar."

"It's about this old-fashioned, good-hearted detective who always follows the rules even as he goes up against all these weird, grotesque gangsters who break every law in the city," Kaede told him. "Sondheim didn't work on many movies, but he won an Oscar for his work on Dick Tracy."

"It's about a detective, huh?" Makoto said, looking up at the ceiling. He blinked a couple of times, thinking to himself before he returned his attention to Kaede. "So why does the song sound so sad?"

"Oh, right" Kaede said, sounding as if she only now remembered him observing that earlier. "Well, it's called What Can You Lose, and it's about this character whose been carrying feelings for someone else for a while, but he doesn't know if they've noticed or cared. He's trying to figure out whether he should just tell her."

Makoto face momentarily appeared shocked. But after the shock passed, his expression became determined. "I see," he said. "Would you play it for me?"

Kaede smiled gratefully. "Of course! Although I have to admit it loses something without the accompanying lyrics."

Rubbing his chin with one hand, Makoto pushed to add, "Then could you sing it, too?"

"Wha-what?!" Kaede blurted through sudden laughter. "I'm... I'm not much of a singer! Besides, it's designed as a duet."

"You're being modest," Makoto suggested sympathetically.

"I'm not!" Kaede responded emphatically.

Makoto chuckled to himself again "This duet - do you mean it has parts for both a guy and a girl?"

"Yes... "

"Then I'll do the male vocals," Makoto suggested, smiling warmly. "I'm not any good either, so you should feel more comfortable that way."

As he moved to stand behind and to the side of her spot on the piano bench, Kaede looked befuddled. "I mean, I guess I do sing along with the piano sometimes... in private, that is. And I can carry a tune decently, sure. But this? This is just-"

Makoto interrupted by saying, "Look: I really want to hear it. Okay?"

Kaede stared, shaking her head slowly as she paradoxically said "Okay... "

She turned, cleared her throat, and tried to focus on the sheet music in front of her. "Can you read music, though?" she ventured.

"I can read enough, I think," Makoto said uncertainly, rubbing the back of his head.

"Okay... " Kaede repeated, quieter this time.

She did her best to ignore the boy standing there as she began to run her fingers over the keys.

When the time came, Makoto's voice came out as a firm but unpolished tenor:

What Can You Lose? Only The Blues... Why Keep Concealing, Everything You're Feeling? Say It To Her... What Can You Lose? Maybe It Shows, She's Had Clues — Which She Chose To Ignore Maybe Though She Knows, And Just Wants To Go On As Before... As A Friend, Nothing More. So She Closes The Door.

Then Kaede's voice came in with its sweet, high pitch.

Well If She Does, Those Are The Dues...

And together, they began to share the lyrics.

Once The Words Are Spoken, Something May Be Broken Still You Love Her; What Can You Lose?

But What If She Goes? At Least Then You Had Part Of Her...��What If She Had To Choose?

Leave It Alone... Hold It All In... Better or Boned Don't Even Begin With So Much To Win... There's Too Much To Lose.

Shortly after she finished playing the last few notes, Kaede smiled and sat back, taking a deep breath before she spoke. "Um, sorry for my voice cracking," she said. "I did warn you that I'm not much of a singer." She turned back to look at him.

Makoto was looking away from her now, his back to her. "Uh, yeah, same here?" he said awkwardly. His voice wavered as he continued, "I kinda choked on those lyrics a couple times... "

"I thought you sounded very sweet," Kaede assured him. However, the look on her face had shifted to one of her concern as a result of both the tone in Makoto's voice and the fact that he was still facing away from her. "I don't want to pry or anything," she ventured, "But... are you okay?"

"Damn it," he muttered emphatically, speaking mostly to himself. He turned back towards her and rolled his eyes — making it evident that they were welling with tears. "Guess I lost it somewhere along the way."

Kaede's hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock. "Oh god, you don't have anxiety about performing, do you? You really didn't need to do that! I tried to-"

Makoto waved away her concerns, laughing nervously. "No, it's not that. The song just... really struck a nerve." He wiped the tears from his eyes using the sleeve of his hoodie.

Hearing that, Kaede lowered the hand from her face and brought her hands together in front of her. "Isn't that beautiful, though?" she asked, enthused all over again. "The way that music can make people feel so strongly... " She closed her eyes and sighed. "It can be challenging, cathartic, or even make us confront emotions we've been avoiding within ourselves."

Makoto was slightly confused by her sudden enthusiasm in this face of his tears, but he just scratched his cheek lightly and nodded a bit. "I guess that's true, yeah," he muttered.

Seeing his reaction, Kaede's smile turned sheepish. "Sorry if that came out kind of weird," she offered. "Guess I got carried away again. People don't call me the 'Piano Freak' for nothing."

Makoto sniffed, still fighting back his emotions. Nevertheless, he managed to smile back at her. "Like I said before, your passion is a great thing," he told her. "There's nothing 'freak'-ish about it. That's just rude and uncalled for."

"Thank you, senpai," Kaede said genuinely. "And, truth be told, you caught me playing this song because... I can relate to it, too."

His smile tightened. "Then I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "Is that what's keeping you up so late?"

She avoided his gaze. "Something like that," she admitted. "The same questions keep running through my head."

"Then we're in the same boat," he expressed with a sympathetic smile.

Keade looked back at him, regarding him silently for a moment before speaking again. "Frustrating, isn't it?"

"Yeah... " Makoto said softly. He seemed to be looking through her, his mind wandering for a few seconds. However, his expression soon brightened. "But hey," he suddenly added, speaking more clearly. "Maybe your person is just clueless."

Kaede turned to look back at the piano and fingered a couple of keys idly. "I sort of doubt it," she said over the tink-tink sounds. "Picking up on clues is kind of his whole thing."

"Well that sounds painfully familiar," Makoto said, deadpan.

"Yours too?" Kaede asked, looking back at him with genuine surprise. Suddenly, she spun around in her seat. "Wait, don't tell me!" She held both hands in front of her as if she could psychically freeze him in place before she went on: "You're trying to let them know how you feel without explicitly saying it, and they're someone who's usually great at reading people. But even so, they haven't reacted to what you're doing. So now you can't tell if they're really uninterested or just totally oblivious in this one way." Her hands dropped into her lap. "Is that it?"

At that, Makoto had to laugh. "Aside from the fact that I'm trying my hardest not to send any signals, that's exactly what it's like with her. Besides, I'm a pretty open book. I'm probably sending her signals whether I want to or not. And if that's true, what would it mean?" His face fell once more. "Has she avoided confronting my feelings because she wishes they didn't exist and would prefer not to deal with them?" He paused only a second before answering his own question: "I think that's a solid probably." His smile returned, though now it was a smaller and sadder one.

Kaede mirrored his expression. "You can't be sure of what she's thinking. You shouldn't give up hope."

"I know," Makoto said, giving her a nod. "And I won't. Despite my best efforts, I just... I can't seem to shake that hope. I can't stop wanting more between us."

Kaede stood up from the piano bench. "Why do you want to shake it?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder at him.

Makoto shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away. "To protect myself, I guess. Like the song said: 'There's too much to lose.'"

After turning around to face him, Kaede gave a solemn nod. "I get that."

He looked back at her. "You can't bring yourself to tell him either, huh?"

Kaede's eyes drifted upward as she drew in a long breath. "I... " she began. "I... I've stepped right up to that line, if you know what I mean. I've been at the door, and I gave it a good, long look," she said, barely suppressing an embarrassed giggle over her own metaphor. Then she paused, lost in thought for a few moments. Quietly, she concluded "It feels like I've done everything but tell him."

"Sometimes it's hard to notice what's going on right in front of us," Makoto suggested.

Kaede threw him a lopsided smile. "Speaking from experience?"

"Not romantic experience — but yeah," Makoto admitted, chuckling ruefully.

"Can't that apply to your person, too?" Kaede asked. She clasped her hands behind her back. "Isn't there a chance she can't see the forest for the trees?"

He immediately shook his head. "No. At least... I don't think so."

"You can't be certain, though."

"Of course not," Makoto said.

She shifted her stance, moving to fold her arms in front of her. "How long have you known this girl?"

"About a year and a half now," he responded.

Kaede leveled a concentrated gaze at him. "Do you mind if I ask you something kind of personal?"

Makoto blinked rapidly, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone. "I mean, uh — maybe?" he said, feeling nervous. "It depends."

"On what?" Kaede pressed, her face relaxing.

He raised one hand up to his chin. "Just... ask yourself whether you'd be comfortable with me asking you the same thing. And if so? Fire away."

She froze, letting her eyes drift around the room as she considered that. "Okay," she murmured to herself once before repeating it louder: "Okay. Fine."

Makoto's brow furrowed as he unconsciously tensed his body in anticipation.

Kaede's face returned to the concentrated look she'd had a moment before. "We've been talking vaguely about what we feel or whatever, but level with me here: Are you in love with this person?"

In response, Makoto closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath. "I try not to think about that," he said quietly. "I've been doing my best not to put a label on what I'm feeling, if that makes any sense."

Kaede turned her head slightly. "But if you had to?"

He opened his eyes again and slowly nodded. "I think... yes. No, that's wrong — I don't just think it." He sighed heavily. "I am. And I've probably known I am for a long time, on some level."

Kaede relaxed both her expression and posture. She smiled sympathetically before gently asking, "Don't you think she deserves to know that?"

Makoto lowered his head and raised his right hand to cover his eyes. He drew his fingers together slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut tight. "You're... probably right," he said weakly.

Still smiling, she went on: "Even if she can tell you're crushing on her, that doesn't mean she knows how deep your feelings are. Besides — you already admitted you aren't certain whether she knows any of it." She looked down at the floor. "I think you should tell her," she concluded.

After dropping his hand from his face and raising his head to look at her again, Makoto smirked. "You should follow your own advice," he said.

She looked back and him and scoffed. "Easier said than done."

"Of course," he agreed. "It's always easier to tell someone else to go out on that limb than to do it yourself. But now it's your turn."

"Huh?" Kaede said, visibly confused.

"I mean it's your turn to answer the question you asked me," he clarified. "Are you in love with him?"

Kaede visibly flinched at the question. "Urrrrrrr... "

Makoto smiled a little. "Come on," he said teasingly, "You knew this was coming."

Casting her eyes downward again, Kaede spoke haltingly. "I.. don't know. Really." She cleared her throat. "I like him a lot... the time we spend together, it means so much to me." Starting to look up, she shook her head once. "But I've only known him a few months!"

Makoto's hand was again poised below his chin with his other arm wrapped underneath.. "There aren't time constraints on these things," he said softly. "There's not some required waiting period on your feelings. And you don't have to decide what you feel before some arbitrary date passes, either."

She shut her eyes. "Good!" she declared a bit louder than she'd intended. She reopened her eyes and lowered her voice before going on: "I'm just lost because... I've never been in love with anyone," she admitted. "Unless I am now, I suppose." She reached across her body with her left hand and grabbed onto her right forearm before looking back at Makoto. "Have you?" she asked. "Did you feel this way about someone else before her?"

Despite opening his mouth, Makoto hesitated before answering. After a long pause, he simply said, "No."

Kaede's face scrunched up in confusion. "Then how're you so sure you are now?" she demanded.

Makoto smiled gently and chuckled. "Look, I obviously don't know much about this stuff," he warned. "Coming to me for advice about love is like asking Iruma-san for etiquette tips."

She laughed. "I hear you," Kaede said. "But you sounded so certain. So, how?"

"I can only tell you what I believe," he said. "So maybe take this with a grain of salt." He took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "So... I believe love is one of those things that... when you know, you just know. At least that's how it is for me. When you made me confront and define my feelings, it seemed really obvious." He half-shrugged. "But that doesn't mean it has to be the same for you — or anybody else for that matter. Besides, does it really matter what you call your feelings or how you define them? Don't pressure yourself to make it something specific."

Kaede listened quietly while shifting her weight between her feeet as he spoke. When he was finished, she nodded. "I guess you're right," she said. "And maybe I'm just stuck because I've had-" She cut herself off and looked sideways. "Heh — no, forget it. You'd just laugh at me."

"I swear to you that I won't," Makoto said sincerely.

Kaede looked back and smiled gratefully. "Well... I had this idea in my head of what it would feel like to be in love one day, you know? I always thought it would feel, to me, kind of like the first time I listened to Robert Schumann's 'Fantasie in C,' Opus 17. Does that... ?"

Makoto was already shaking his head. "Sorry, but I don't know it."

"No, that's okay," Kaede said, laughing a little. "I should play it for you some time. It's a solo piano piece that's somehow grand and intimate at the same time. Powerful yet gentle. Frantic but tender." She looked away. "He wrote it for the love of his life. And to me, it sounded like what love must feel like. At least that's what I thought. But what I feel now is... this is completely unrecognizable."

He gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm not sure if anyone can expect or predict what it'll feel like until they're in the middle of it," he theorized. "I just mean... different people experience things differently."

"Makes sense," Kaede said.

He tilted his head. "One more question," he said. "How would you feel if he suddenly wasn't in your life anymore?"

Kaede's face fell immediately. "Horrible... " she said, nearly whispering. "Devastated?"

With a fresh smile, Makoto nodded once. "Maybe you can start there," he suggested.

Her eyes darted back and forth as though searching for his logic. "Start with what?" she asked.

"Start by telling him that," he said simply. "It's more than enough."

She grimaced. "I don't know... " she said. "But... maybe." She looked around the room, considering.

"Just think about it," Makoto said gently. He gestured towards the clock on the wall. "Though maybe you should save the thinking for tomorrow? It's pretty late. We should both be trying our best to sleep."

"Yeah, I know you're right," she conceded. "I hope we can think more clearly in the morning." Smiling once more, she warned him, "This isn't the end of this, though! I'm going to keep encouraging you until you finally tell her everything."

"Oh, yay?" he said uncertainly, lightly chuckiing. He began to move towards the door. "But I'll be cheering you on, too," he added. When he reached the door, he looked back over his shoulder. "And thank you. For the talk, I mean."

"Anytime."

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End Note: I originally wrote 2/3 of this story in the summer of 2021 before abandoning it. At the time, I decided it wasn't a very good or interesting premise. And honestly, I'm still not sure it is... but when I saw this year's "Lyrical" prompt for Naegiri Week, my mind came back to this one, and I thought "Wouldn't it be nice to have something to post this year?" So I spent a few days completing this story and polishing it up. I hope it was worth your time.

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 4 months

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Chapter 7

this was sooo fun to write :)) i love kyoko

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

More Byakuya and Kyoko antagonism. I think they should kiss

I tried reading a book with my dad's old glasses that are super-strong prescription and made myself so light-headed I had to lie down. Byakuya how and why the hell did you power through this

Implied Naegiri (blink and you'll miss it). It's just the barest shred of Naegiri. The softest suggested whisper of Naegiri

Beta-read by @moonlighttogami :))))

Content warning tags: Byakuya and Kyoko argue at each other. A lot of pettiness being thrown around.

< previous - from start - next >

The next few days, he staunchly avoids Naegi.

It’s not an easy task. Despite now having two floors worth of space to occupy, he keeps crossing paths with the other boy; who, usually, was just a few steps behind Kirigiri. Each time, Byakuya would ignore them, head raised high and eyes fixed straight ahead.

It annoys him. It seemed that no matter how careful he was, luck just wasn’t on his side. Several times he would carefully, casually, scan a room before entering, confirming the absence of a brown mop of hair and green jacket, and walk in only to realize that Naegi had been just out of his periphery. Or, not a few moments later, Naegi would walk in anyways.

A few times, the boy even dared to try and come up to him, making awkward, stilted attempts at conversation. Each time, Byakuya stood up and left without a word.

The library became his base of operations, where he could reside undisturbed. A few days ago, he was pleased with this room, and its wide selection of classic literature and academic essays, proving itself to be a mine of information. Now, however, it was a frustrating place to be.

It was a bit of a blatant observation to make, but it doesn’t make a difference to a blind man whether he’s in a desert or the Library of Alexandria. If anything, all it served was to irritate him, as Byakuya wavers between holding a book a full arm’s length away, then so close it nearly brushed his nose, before giving up entirely and setting it down on the table with a sigh.

It’s no use, he thinks, eyes sliding shut as his head begins to pound with the now-familiar tells of a migraine. The medical textbook he’d been struggling with sits before him, as blank to him as fresh-fallen snow. After a few hours of squinting, he’d managed to find a page that could have a round, circular diagram, possibly representing an eye, but it still meant nothing to him if he couldn’t read the damn thing; the exact remedy that he needed could be right under his nose and he’d be none the wiser.

It was Naegi’s fault. Byakuya had misjudged him, had thought him half-capable based on his remarkable observation skills and performance during the first trial, and mistakenly believed he could handle learning some painful truths. But instead, the insolent brat stormed off, emotional and hurt, leaving Byakuya - his benefactor - in favor of some cryptic woman who was about as trustworthy as a spider. Doing the one thing Byakuya warned him against.

The whole thing was ridiculous to the point of being laughable. He thunks his head into the open book, tired of it all. His glasses dig into the bridge of his nose, but he ignores it in favor of reaching into his inner jacket pocket, rummaging until he comes up with a folded handkerchief.

He unfolds it slowly in his lap, careful not to spill its contents. It was too loud and annoying to carry around a bottle of pills, so instead he wrapped a few tablets of ibuprofen in cloth. He picks out two of the little chalky pills, then fumbles clumsily over his desk for the cup of tea he’d left there earlier.

He’s only just swallowed them down when there’s a knock on his door. He lowers the cup slowly. “What is it?”

“It’s Kyoko.” He scowls, and sets the cup down with a quiet click. She was the last person he wanted to see, so to speak.

“And what do you want.”

In lieu of a reply, he hears the creak of the heavy library door, and then footsteps. Two sets of them, and for a moment he wonders if Naegi was here as well. For a moment he thinks so, based on the slight, green-dressed figure hovering near the door, but then they speak up, voice wavering and high.

“U-um…” Chihiro Fujisaki’s voice is a trembling, nervous squeak. She seems to be vibrating where she stood, somehow blurring even more in his deteriorated vision. “H-Hello…”

He turns to Kirigiri, ignoring the other girl completely. “Did no one ever tell you it’s rude to walk in without permission?” He asks scathingly, while discretely folding up the cloth in his lap and tucking it back into his pocket. No need for her to think he was being troubled by anything.

“I doubt you would’ve given it even if I asked.” She replies. She was already walking around, eyes scanning the shelves. ”You and Makoto had a dispute. Why?”

Straight to the point. He’s not surprised that she’s asking about Makoto, considering how often he saw the two of them together. “You’re unexpectedly direct. If only you had displayed such a drive during the trial.”

“I had my reasons.” She turns to him. “But you are the one avoiding the topic now. Please answer my question.”

How demanding. Of course, she would know of his dismissal of Naegi. He wonders if it was because that miserable fool blabbed, by words or by mere sullenness. “I had my own reasons as well.” He parrots back, offering a vapid smile. “Is there something else you need?”

She turns away and continues inspecting the shelf of case files. Apparently irritated by his uncooperativeness, or at least, he hopes so. He turns to Fujisaki.

“Why are you here?” He asks bluntly, and she jumps.

“U-um-! I, that is-” She wavers. “Uh…”

“You can speak up, Chihiro.” Kirigiri says, attention still focused on the shelf. “Don’t you have a question to ask him?”

“Th-that’s-!”

A question? Immediately, his mind jumps to his previous school years, spent being dogged by simpering, pathetic admirers. Some of the more memorable ones were persistent to the point of needing to be dealt with by force; he was not interested in repeating such an experience.

“I’m not interested in hearing it.” He deadpans. Better to shut it down now rather than later. Fujisaki seems to droop, and after another moment, turns around and flees.

“Cold, aren’t you?” Kirigiri observes, after the door shuts.

“Hardly. I could have been much harsher just then.” He actually had been prepared to say more, but he hadn’t been expecting the girl to run so quickly. No matter. “What are you still doing here? Isn’t your business done?”

Secretly, he would rather she stay. Between languishing over migraines and unreadable texts, to suffering long stretches of boredom, any company would be welcome.

“It’s not. You haven’t answered my question.” She pulls out a folder and begins rifling through its contents. “Makoto is very despondent that you won’t respond to him.”

“Is he now?” Byakuya actually wasn’t aware of that. “That’s not my problem.”

“Perhaps not, but it is a problem that he is no longer by your side, no?”

It takes a moment to absorb the meaning of her words. He straightens and turns to look at her, but she seems, to him, to be fully absorbed in the contents of the file. “...What are you implying?”

“You should take better care of the materials here.” Is what she says instead of an actual answer. She lifts a page from the file. “There’s tea all over this.”

He squints. “That page is fine. I don’t see any-” He begins, before halting. But it was too late.

Kirigiri lowers the page. “There’s no need for us to beat around the bush, is there?” She sounds almost smug. He glares, furious.

What an impertinent little... But she got him. He silently berates himself for letting his guard down, even with a headache he had no excuse. “Fine.” He sighs, lifting his hands in defeat. “You got me.”

“What did I get?”

“Do you really want me to say it out loud?”

“In that case, please confirm or deny what I’m about to say.” She slides the folder shut again, and she steps forward, voice lowered. “From what I understand, you are currently blind, or at least, your vision is impaired. You previously had employed Makoto to assist you, but due to some disagreement, you are no longer accepting his assistance.” He wonders at the sudden show of secrecy, before remembering the cameras that were present in every room. How thoughtful of her. “Am I correct in assuming so?”

“Oh, well done, detective.” He claps slowly, mockingly. “Do you want a medal?”

“I’m just making observations.” She walks closer, sets the folder on the desk. From her, she stands above him, her face dark from the dim lamp behind her. It unnerves him, more than he’d care to admit. “Byakuya Togami. What did you say to Makoto Naegi?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m surprised that you care so much for him. Does he draw your interest that much?” He drawls, letting the insinuation hang clearly.

“He is intriguing, isn’t he?” She nods solemnly, and for a moment he wonders if she missed the sarcasm of his tone. “But that’s beside the point. Apparently, what you said to him has affected his morale. To be frank, it’s been depressing some of the rest of the class as well.”

He allows himself to feel a bit self-satisfied at that. I hope he’s moping. It would serve the stupid idiot right. “Again, that’s not my problem.”

“It will become your problem soon. Surely you didn’t forget his performance during the last trial?” How could he? As clumsy and stuttering as it was, Naegi delivered an impressive demonstration of skill, threading logic and evidence together to the right conclusion. He hadn’t been able to suppress the pang of envy as he witnessed it, the drawing of clear lines where there had previously been none.

The thought of that sours his mood. “You say as if everything hinges on him. Do you know something the rest of us don’t?” He sneers.

“Don’t you have any other comebacks? This one’s getting old.” She retorts swiftly. “We can accuse each other as much as we want during a trial. But answer my question, now.” She slams her hand against the open book on the desk with a muffled thump, leaning over him. From this position, she is a dark shadow, looming above.

Not for the first time, he feels a surge of anxiety. Some people had strong features and expressions that even he could read, such as Ishimaru or Naegi. But Kirigiri was not one of those people; in fact, she was the opposite.

To him, she is as faceless as a specter.

He tries to discreetly swallow the lump of unease. “...Fine. But get off me.” She backs off, suddenly obedient; had that sudden aggression just been a show? “You wanted to know what I said to Makoto Naegi? All I did was tell him to be careful.” He smiles, and even on his own face, it feels more like an ugly baring of teeth. “After all, there’s no telling if he’ll survive being a hapless lackey twice.”

It’s essentially a declaration of war. I won’t let you have your way. He didn’t trust Kyoko, and likely wouldn’t even if he could see her face.

He was planning on forgiving Naegi eventually, anyways. He was too useful a pawn to throw away now.

“...How hypocritical.” Kirigiri says after a moment. “Accusing me of trying to take control over him, as if you haven’t tried doing so yourself?”

“You know my reasons for doing so. And he’s been promised sufficient reparations.”

“Reparations he might not survive to see?”

Ah. That was right. He’d been so wrapped up in his own situation, that he nearly forgot about the greater problem at hand. So far he had been lucky with the killing game, imposing enough to not be victimized and unobtrusive enough to not be targeted, and had been dedicating his time and ability to trying to find information to heal his sight or identifying the mastermind. But, sighted or not, it’d make no difference if he was dead.

This game could only have one victor, after all. And Byakuya was no longer confident that he would be able to win.

“A Togami keeps his word. Somehow or another, I will uphold my end.” He’s already prepared some of his own personal stationary, and his signet ring, and had been planning on having Naegi help him put the details of their agreement to paper. If something had gone wrong during a trial, he would’ve passed off these things to the survivor to take outside.

Kirigiri hums, hand raised to her chin as she thinks. “It’s hardly a solid promise.” She muses.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply.”

“I think that you do. This agreement is based on mutual benefits, and yet it seems like you’re the only one benefitting.” She shakes her head as he opens her mouth to correct her. “What you are offering is based on a promise that you have now way of proving you can uphold. Isn’t it no wonder that he left your side so easily?”

He feels his eyes narrowing. “Again. What are you trying to imply?”

“You are incredibly arrogant for someone who has nothing.” She says bluntly. The words strike him like a physical blow, and for a moment it feels as though the wind was knocked out of him. “You know there’s nothing you can offer in these circumstances, so stay out of the way and stop interfering.”

He gapes at her, stunned, as she turns and walks towards the door. She pauses, one foot past the threshold, and turns.

“And take better care of the documents here. The one I held up earlier had a footprint on it.”

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff chapters #thpff #byakuya togami #danganronpa fanfic #danganronpa fanfiction

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gontagokuhara · 11 months

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hello tumblr nation. im graduating from college tomorrow. so here’s me putting my writing degree to good use by updating my danganronpa fan fiction mere hours before i walk the stage

...so, women’s rights AND women’s wrongs, anyone?

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artychaild · 2 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Dangan Ronpa Series Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter/Mitarai Ryota, Chou Koukou Kyuu no Sagishi | Ultimate Imposter & Mitarai Ryota Characters: (mentioned) Monomi, (mentioned) Nanami Chiaki Additional Tags: Fluff, written for a zine, Title from a Sting song, Post-Canon, Dead Nanami Chiaki, dead monomi, Picnics, date, Jabberwock Island (Dangan Ronpa) Series: Part 7 of Post-Game waffles (waffles not included) Summary:

Zine work for Veiled Identity - an Imposter Zine! If you check the zine out you can find this zine complete with illustrations by the wonderful Foldable-mattress on tumblr! https://x.com/veiled_identity/status/1751293907726713300

Ryota asks his partner out on a date!

Written for the @veiled-identity-zine !

#my writing #my fic writing #danganronpa fanfic #sdr2 fanfic #sdr2 #mitworai #ultimate imposter #ryota mitarai #artychaild

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dangan-kagura · 26 days

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Things I Wanted to Include for My V3 Rewrite - Part 9

So let’s jump ahead to when they arrive at the gym the night they plan to break through the Death Road of Despair. Kokichi explains to the group that he needed Kirumi’s help in making all of the gadgets Miu invented for him. Since I killed off Miu in Chapter 2, Kokichi resorts to getting Kirumi to invent the electrobombs and electrohammers. Kirumi explains that she was helping Kokichi on certain nights and thought that what Kokichi was planning to do wasn’t for the sake of murder.

Now for the good stuff. After they break through the Death Road, they arrive at the door to the outside. My OC gets anxious out of concern that his nightmare might come true and the outside world is a post-apocalyptic Earth. But to everyone’s surprise...

The outside isn’t a post-apocalyptic Earth, it’s a backstage.

You know, like those backstages sets usually have? Confused at first, the group then notices another door in the backstage, but the door is jammed and can’t be opened by any means necessary, even the electrohammers have no effect. That’s when Kokichi shows up to explain the truth to everyone. Instead of telling everyone that the Earth was destroyed…

Kokichi tells them that the killing game is a TV series!

Basically, Kokichi tells them everything Tsumugi said to everyone in the final trial in the original game, that the killing game is a TV series that is part of the Danganronpa franchise, the Flashback Lights are all lies and that everyone has audition videos that shows who they really are.

Now, there are several different ways I could’ve narrated this. I ended up writing that everyone thinks The Tragedy really happened and that Danganronpa is based on true events, but that was so that my OC could figure out Tsumugi’s plan to trick everyone into thinking she’s Junko, my OC points out that Tsumugi is cosplaying as the fictional Junko from Danganronpa and not the real one.

For this scene, one idea was to have Kokichi explain that after The Tragedy, when the world began to recover, a company calling themselves Team Danganronpa decided to make the video game Danganronpa, a video game based on the Hope’s Peak killing game, but the characters are fictional versions of the people who were in the real killing game. Upon its success, they decided to expand the series by turning it into a reality TV series. They basically “kidnap” people who want to participate in the killing game and then brainwash them into thinking they’re fictional characters and that they’re Ultimate Students. Kokichi even explains that the show has lasted for over 53 seasons, but most seasons between seasons 4 and 52 were just video game parodies (i.e. Final Danganronpa 5 parodies Final Fantasy, Shin Danganronpa 7 parodies Shin Megami Tensei). Season 53 was written to call back on the Hope's Peak saga.

The other idea was that Kokichi tells them the same thing, except that he explains that The Tragedy didn’t happen and that the idea of Danganronpa being based on true events was a lie my OC invented. You know, because Kokichi can easily tell when someone is lying? However, my OC argues that he didn’t know about this and that he was most likely given a Flashback Light into thinking The Tragedy really happened.

Now one thing I wanted to include was for Kokichi to show to everyone the original script for the killing game. He explains that the script details the order of character deaths, but my OC ended up changing the death order because he was able to figure out Tsumugi’s plan to kill Rantaro and frame Kaede. This caused Team Danganronpa to rewrite the script and scrap the original script, as in, they had to scrap the Gofer Project storyline.

Now for the confusing part. Kokichi explains that he was scripted to be the 5th victim and is determined to keep things as is. However, Kaito, who was scripted to be his killer, is already dead, so Kokichi decides to turn to Kirumi. The scene where Kokichi originally kidnaps Kaito turns into a scene where Kokichi uses the Exisals to capture and kidnap Kirumi, locking her up in the Exisal hanger. He explains that he doesn’t want my OC to interfere with his plans and wants to get back at him. Something like that. The confusing part about this is that it would contradict Kokichi’s real plans to expose the true mastermind and end the killing game. I guess you can say Kokichi sort of lost his mind when he discovered the truth about the killing game being a TV series. When I write the later parts, I’ll try to explain what his plans were.

With everyone suffering from the despair of learning who they really are, that they’re just ordinary people with no real talents and with different names and personalities, they don’t have the hope to stop Kokichi and save Kirumi.

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #blog #fanfic #fan fiction #rewrite #danganronpa fanfic #team danganronpa #kokichi oma #kirumi tojo

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elflock-magician · 11 months

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"Tired Tired Nikei"

Summary - Nikei is extremely tired from his work. Hajime and him have a little chat before going to bed.

Note!! I DO NOT KNOW SHIT ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS IN SDRa2-- I'm just writing this for a friend so if it's mega ooc then that is why!!

Nikei stumbled through the doors of the apartment. He was huffing heavily like he had been running. Plus he was soaking wet. His hair was matted against his face and his clothes clung to his body due to the moisture. “Geez…Those god-damned stairs!” Nikei said in frustration. Nikei, as well as the rest of Children of Utsuro, had been staying in Emma’s apartment. Said apartment was located up two flights of stairs. “Seriously, you’re supposed to be the Ultimate Journalist, you seriously can’t handle a bit of rain and maybe a couple flights of stairs?” Nikei grumbled as he took his shoes off. His socks were uncomfortably wet as well. He continued grumbling to himself about how he should be stronger as he took off some of his wet clothes. He had been working all day doing interviews and such. “At least I got that info…Yeah. It was all worth it.” He said to himself as a pleased expression passed his face as he took out his slightly wet and tattered notepad from his pocket. “Nikei! You’re back!” Hajime said and poked his head out of the kitchen. “By some miracle.” Nikei replied as he walked over to the closet and swung the doors open. Inside said closet was where they kept the washing machine and most of everyone's clothes. Nikei had five different identical jackets. Once he had a style, he stuck with it. He took off his wet jacket, socks, and vest and stuffed them into the washing machine. “Dry off.” Hajime began “Or else you’re gonna catch a cold.” Hajime and Nikei said at the exact same time, Nikei knowing Hajime would say that exact thing, “I know, I know. Thanks Hajime.” Nikei said. Nikei turned around and was met with Hajime throwing a towel at his face, and hitting his target. “Gah!” Nikei called out, startled. Hajime chuckled and leaned against the door of the closet.

“You left pretty early this morning. And now it’s really late. Iroha and Emma are already asleep.” Hajime stated. “Usually you don’t like late nights.” He added. Nikei finally pulled the towel off of his face. “‘Course I don’t. Who does anyways? But I’m the Ultimate Journalist! I have to be the best. So what if I–” Nikei was cut off by his own yawn, “--Have to sacrifice a little bit of my sleep schedule.” He finished his previous statement. He used the towel to rub his hair dry.

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your health to do well at your job.” Hajime commented. “Oh pish posh, it’s not that big of a deal.” Nikei replied as he threw the now wet towel into the washing machine as well. “Evade your eyes, perv.” He added and gestured for Hajime to turn around so he could get rid of the rest of his wet clothes. The sound of rain hitting the roof intensified. Hajime did as asked and turned around, though still leaning against the door. “Your ‘eye-bags’ look more like eye purses.” Hajime said and put one of his hands on his hip. “So what? I can take it.” Nikei responded simply as he changed his clothes. “Tch- I’m borrowing one of your tank tops for bed.” Nikei announced as he put the tank top on. The tank top being far to big for Nikei, but he seemed to like the soft fabric. “But it’s clearly hurting you.” Hajime interjected, not letting go of the previous topic. “Sometimes you need to hurt to get far.” Nikei replied simply. “But you shouldn’t push yourself so far.” Hajime stated. “Alright alright, whatever. I’ll try and get more…conventional work hours. Will that make you take the stick out of your ass?” Nikei said, his tone sounded more light hearted than anything though. “Yeah, it’d one hundred percent make me happy.” Hajime replied, knowing well how to decipher Nikei’s dialogue.

“Alright, then I’ll do it.” He said. “M-Maybe!” He added in a shout. Nikei couldn’t let himself be vulnerable. Because, to Nikei, vulnerable meant weak, and weak meant not the best, and not the best meant inferior, and it triggered something inside him. But it was clear Nikei did desire to be close with Hajime. And Hajime seemed to understand that. He smiled softly. “Come to bed. Emma fell asleep waiting for you.” Hajime stated and gestured to the door down the hallway.

“Wait– don’t you usually go to bed way earlier than this? Something about a good sleep schedule…” Nikei asked and pulled some of the poorly-dried hair out of his face. “Usually.” Hajime said in response and took off his sunglasses. Nikei looked a little caught off guard as he realized something. “Hajime- did you stay up late to wait for me?” Nikei asked and tilted his head. Hajime chuckled again. “You’re so observant. No wonder you’re the Ultimate Journalist.” He said and pat Nikei on the head a bit. “What happened to ‘not sacrificing your wellbeing’ for progress?” Nikei questioned half-heartidly. “This is different. I know I can handle stayin’ up a little late. And I wanted to do this. Because I care for ya. It’s different from overworkin’ yourself for the sake of being productive. You really shouldn't equate productivity to worth.” Hajime explained. “Uhh…does that make sense?” He added and scratched the back of his head. Nikei opened his mouth to say something, but for a solid moment, no words left his mouth. He exhaled and smiled softly.

“I guess it does.” Nikei replied. He yawned again. “C’mon, I’m tired, so let’s go.” He said and grabbed Hajime by the wrist and pulling him along. “What? You can’t go to sleep without me?” Hajime asked jokingly. The answer was yes. Nikei had some bad attachment issues and without knowing everyone he cared deeply for was safe, he’d have a lot of trouble sleeping. “O-Of course I can!” One again, Nikei forced down any feelings of vulnerability, “It’s just– y’know, you’ve already waited long enough. So let’s go.” He urged and continued to pull Hajime along.

After they got to the bedroom, and cleaned up a bit more, Nikei was excited to get in bed.

In the apartment they had only two beds. Only two people could sleep in one bed at once, so they’d rotate who stayed where, sometimes. Sometimes Nikei would get stuck with Iroha, who did not smell good when she sweat even the slightest bit. And other times he’d have to sleep next to Emma, who always cuddled him like a stuffed toy. Nikei would never admit it but he didn’t exactly mind. And then there was Hajime who always moved a lot in his sleep and had nearly crushed Nikei on several different occasions. “You’re with me tonight. Emma fell asleep in her chair, so I ended up just moving her to the bed with Iroha.” Hajime explained. “Mhm. Alright.” Nikei said offhandedly before face-planting into the bed. “But I’m totally gonna punch you if you roll on me again!” He added. Hajime chuckled at that. “That’s fine. Last thing we need is to suffocate you.” Hajime stated jokingly before climbing into the bed and getting under the covers. Nikei really liked feeling pampered when he went to bed, which is why he immediately curled up in the soft blanket and burying his head into the pillow. Hajime chuckled at that. “You look like a little burrito.” Hajime commented and chuckled. Nikei stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry at Hajime. “Yep! Nikei Burrito.” Hajime repeated in a joking tone. “N-Nikei Burrito?!” Nikei repeated. “Well then you’re Hajime-Burger, because of how you stick your head between the pillows. Like a dumbass!!” He said and blushed, and yet smiled an almost goofy grin. Hajime chuckled at that. “Wait! Shh- we gotta keep quiet. Emma and Iroha are already asleep in the next room.” Hajime said as he tried to silence his laughter, and failed. “Hajime-Burger…” He repeated again, his laughter still going. Nikei muttered something about how Hajime’s sense of humor was broken and silly before leaning against Hajime’s chest. Hajime smiled and looked down at Nikei, who looked very peaceful as he slept. Especially because he was with Hajime. Hajime shut his eyes as well. The sound of rain poured against the roof and windows of the apartment. The two of them enjoyed the company of the other as they fell into deep night sleep.

A/N - I don't know much about Sdra but my friend is currently going through the stages of grief over Nikei so I did bare minimum of research and created this to heal their wounds. Another random note but I based their apartment off of my Grandma’s old apartment.

#sdra2 #super danganronpa another 2 #danganronpa another 2 #danganronpa #nikei yomiuri #hajime makunouchi #danganronpa fanfic #danganronpa fanfiction

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invui · 2 years

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Okay, I have had enough of this crap. I just want to say that I am clearly stating my own opinion and I believe others would agree on this too. The reason on why I am writing this is because I have seen enough toxicity and harmfulness in different fandoms. I don’t know why and how all of this has started but I’ll just say this, don’t shit on other people because of their ideal choices. Not only preference but also a whole ton of things that I cannot list because that’s how blinded fans can be. In fact, it’s just so stupid. Why would you go all the way to just enter someone’s private messages just to tell them that they’re bad or lacking skills in a harsh way? You can just block that certain content creator and continue your day but no! You just had to create damage to a person online.

Just so you know, there is a thing called self pleasure. It can come in different ways, be it art, music, writing, and even cosplaying. I have witnessed quite a lot of people hating a person online because of how they look like or how they sound like. Now listen here, if you think it’s right to shit on someone just because they’re “not good” without a logical reason, there is something wrong with you. There are people, including me, who have a hard time to muster up the courage to post something that they really enjoy out into the internet and when they do muster up the courage, I believe that they have the right to be proud of themselves because that’s already a pretty a huge feat to get over.

If you’re one of those people who had the audacity to message people about how “bad” they are and say that you’re a good person, you’re a liar. You just take the skill of online anonymity and make hurtful comments towards other people and that, my friend, is called cowardice. For example, on tumblr you’re scrolling through your for you page and just so happened to find a creator who has quite a number of followers. You take the chance and send them an ask to their inbox but before/after typing, you chose to send it anonymously. Now the question is, why did you decide to send it anonymously? The only reason that I can think of is because you just don’t want to get caught or have other people turn against you. In my opinion, if you don’t want to be an enemy of the internet, it’s better off to keep your comment to YOURSELF and yourself only.

Actually, even if you take advantage of anonymity, the internet is still going hate you. So if you do all of these deeds and proceed to act “innocent” online, the hatred against you is for sure going to get inside your head. Even if you read this and don’t change your behavior, you’ll just have to suffer the consequences.

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ibuki-says · 2 years

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i’m not sure if you’ve done one already but maybe a kokichi x reader fluff along the lines stormy night cuddles or something?

this is my first time writing an 'x reader' so i hope it's alright!!

Pairing: Kokichi Ouma x Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 939

Spoilers: None! Non-despair AU

After a long day of classes, there wasn’t much more you wanted to do than sink into your bed and rest. Well, at Hope’s Peak Academy, there wasn’t so much as ‘classes’ as there was homeroom and then spending the rest of the day ‘honing your talent’ as they called it. Which was just fine by you, though it was quite the extreme change from the school you attended just before attending Hope’s Peak. The dorm room you had wasn’t the biggest, or most elaborate, just decorated with a few beloved trinkets from home. There wasn’t all that much you could do with the limited space the school gave you, after all. Letting out a long, drawn out sigh, you fell back on your bed, wondering if it was too early to turn in for the night. Glancing at the clock, you determined that it probably was but hey, your sleep schedule has been absolutely out of wack lately, so you could probably use the extra rest. You buried your head into the pillow and just felt yourself beginning to drift off to sleep when-

BRRRRRRRRRRRNG!! The loud ringing of your dorm room’s bell instantaneously jolted you out of your almost-sleep. You rubbed at your eyes, wondering just who could’ve been so desperate to see you that they couldn’t have even just sent a text in warning that they’d be arriving. Groggily getting up, half hoping that they would just go away so you could sleep, this evidently turned out not to be the case as the sound continued, the ringing now seeming to resemble a song of some kind, though you couldn’t quite place it.

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” You muttered mostly to yourself as you finally arrived at the door and swung it open, only to see your boyfriend, Kokichi, pouting up at you.

“(Y/NNNNN)!! You never answered my texts so I got worried! I had to leave my secret organization’s meeting to make sure you weren’t dead or something!!!” He whined as you looked at him quizzically. You quickly pulled out your phone to see that he was indeed correct, that in your sleep deprived haze you hadn’t noticed the dozen or so texts from him. You shook your head out with a groan.

“Crap…sorry, Kichi. I didn’t see them.” You mutter, squeezing his hand in addition to your apology. His pout almost instantly melted to a look of satisfaction, the typical smug grin that the ultimate supreme leader wore.

“Apology accepted! Now that I’m here…can we watch a movie??? Being the leader of such a big and secret organization is soooooo tiring!! I just wanna relax here with you for a bit!” He practically begged, wrapping his hands around yours and squeezing them tighter, looking at you with those big eyes that you can’t seem to say no to. You gave your boyfriend a light smile and nodded with a breezy chuckle. “Yeah, sure. What do you wanna watch?” You asked, pulling him inside and towards your laptop, allowing him to peruse your extensive (and questionably legal) collection of films. Soon enough, he decided on one and you two settled in to watch.

About an hour or two later, the movie was finished. You let out a light yawn, noticing that Kokichi was very much snuggled up against your chest. You tried shifting to put the laptop away as to not disturb him, but unfortunately he instantly stirred as soon as you moved.

“Awwww man, did I sleep through the ending? I always do that.” He pouted, causing you to snicker and plant a kiss on his forehead.

“You did. Don’t worry, I’ll give you the full rundown on what you missed tomorrow. It’s getting late. We should both get some sleep. You should get back to your own dorm before-” You didn’t finish your sentence before you were interrupted by a loud crack of thunder. You visibly jumped, flinching at the bright flash of lightning that shone brilliantly through your tiny dorm window. Kokichi had been about to leave the safety of your bed, and your dorm before observing your reaction to the storm. He glanced from the door of your dorm, back to you, before settling himself down again. You looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows at his actions. “What are you doing!? If Ishimaru finds out you spent the night in another student’s dorm-” You rambled, not wanting your troublesome boyfriend to get into more trouble…at least more than he normally got into. However, you were cut off by Kokichi wagging his finger and shaking his head.

“Ah ah ah. If my (Y/N) is feeling put off by the storm, there’s no way I can leave them all scared and alone, right?? Besides, I’m used to getting around him when I need to.” Kokichi stated with the confidence you knew and loved. You took a moment to consider, and decided that it wasn’t worth debating. If Kokichi wanted to stay here and protect you from the storm, who were you to decline? Instead, you opened the covers back up to him, allowing him to snuggle his way back into your chest. Despite his brash and generally dishonest nature, you clearly felt the aura of love and tenderness Kokichi radiated as he quickly made himself comfortable, absentmindedly stroking your side as he did so. You gazed at the top of his head, using your free hand to run your fingers though his purple hair. The two of you stayed like that until you eventually fell asleep, offering each other comfort and warmth as the storm outside raged on through the night.

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nemaliwrites · 3 months

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Chapter 12: slash across what used to be my face

Standing across from each other, the two of them bow before they begin to spar. And then, for the first time in her life, Mukuro Ikusaba loses.

#danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa fic #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa fanfic #trigger happy havoc #thh fanfiction #danganronpa thh #dr thh #thh fic #mukuro ikusaba #junko enoshima #my fics #riding many a mile

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firedawnd · 10 months

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junko enoshima kills herself (but not that way).

after taking away her friends’ memories and swallowing their despair to the pits of her stomach, she turns around and says, “hey, mukuro? i’m waaaiting.”

the world is balanced, half-life hope, half-life despair: this way, it’s only fair.

(or, ryoko otonashi joins the killing game.)

#junko enoshima #mukuro ibukasa #danganronpa #despair twins #ryoko otonashi #junko x kyoko #it's true #danganronpa fanfic #dr0 spoilers #danganronpa zero #danganronpa trigger happy havoc

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clarityinkerosene · 11 months

Text

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 4 months

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Chapter 6

ooh...drama.....

also happy 2024. im posting this on new year's eve in my time-zone tho so consider this the last update of 2023

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

lovingly named this chapter 'the naegami pre-divorce fight' in my head

was incredibly worried about how the characterization would work out here. shoutout to @moonlighttogami for beta-reading this one!

Byakuya is an asshole here. But it's in-line with how he is in canon anyways

Reminder that this fic is a slow-burn. For both naegami AND togiri. Which includes conflicts abound

Content warning tags: canon-typical assholery from Byakuya, mention of previous character deaths

< previous - from start - next >

Things are quite tense after that.

It doesn’t help that Monokuma has no intentions of taking any of it seriously. He toys with them openly, seemingly delighting in the collective misery. But he at least opens up the next floor and some other facilities, which offers a wide new variety of options to them.

The first floor warehouse and bathhouse are now unlocked. On the newly available second floor, there’s a pool, some more classrooms, and most importantly, a library, though no kind of technology that could access the internet or the outside world. Even despite all that, it’s a welcome change; Byakuya was beginning to grow bored with the routine of the first floor, and the limited spaces he could occupy to eavesdrop on people.

He found painkillers and nausea medication in the first floor warehouse, which was a veritable boon to him. It’s cheap over-the-counter stuff, but he recognizes the obvious branding labels and has Naegi confirm it for him before he takes some bottles for his own use. Naegi also recovers a bottle of eyedrops, which he accepts, though they prove to have no effect whatsoever; at the very least, they made him feel like some progress was being made.

The real treasure trove, however, was the second floor library.

It’s nothing compared to the library in the Togami residence, of course, but it seems that whoever was librarian here at least had good taste. He runs his fingers over smooth leather spines and finds titles that he recognizes, old favorites that he once tore through with eagerness and newer ones that he had always been planning on reading, and even ones that he had never heard of before. He felt almost pleased by it, though it was quickly accompanied by a note of bitterness.

Not like I can read these myself, however. He thinks, clicking his tongue and making Naegi jump besides him. And listening to someone else read was always irritating, especially when he could usually read faster by sight than they could speak. But he has little choice now, as he pulls Naegi to his side.

“Come to my room tonight,” He says in a low voice, with no uncertain terms. Naegi’s face flushes, and he begins to stammer out something ridiculous before Byakuya smacks him lightly over the head with a copy of Tolstoy.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” He scoffs, pushing a sizable stack into Naegi’s hands. “Go take these to my room. Then come back.”

“Oh, o-okay…” He walks off, tottering a little underneath the weight. He was listless after the trial, gloomy and less responsive, but he still followed orders well enough.

Byakuya watches him go, before turning his attention back to the shelves. Much as he’d hate to admit it, he was loath to be out of Naegi’s company nowadays. The atmosphere after the first death was palpable, thick with tension. Plus, it didn’t help that some certain, purple individuals, had taken up a new interest in stalking him.

One of whom was Fukawa. He’d noticed Ultimate Writer had taken up some kind of habit of following him around, as told by the slightly harrowed sound of her breathing in his general vicinity, and the general smell. And the other of which was Kirigiri, of whose presence he became uncomfortably aware of recently.

Maybe it was their few, clipped conversations with thinly concealed aggression. Or maybe it was simply her actions during the trial, which now put her at the forefront of attention - she had gone from being someone who the others were prone to forgetting, to a sort of secondary leader. Someone whose advice was asked for, though she was rarely around to give it. But regardless, he now found himself looking for white as soon as he entered a room, tensed as if ready to right. Though, after their first few, hostile interactions, all other conversations were relatively civil.

At the moment, neither of the two girls were posing any real danger. Fukawa, while off-putting, was more importantly boring and therefore relatively harmless (and furthermore, currently involved in some inane argument with Yamada). And Kirigiri was too involved in exploring their surroundings to pay him any real note; he turns just in time to see her pulling something flat, gray and rectangular out of a desk.

“What’s that?”

She shakes the thing, hard enough for him to almost be worried that it’d fly from her hands and smack against the floor, and a cloud of dust flies off. “A computer.”

“Oh?” Now this was interesting. He approached nearer, curious. “Does it work?”

In lieu of answering, she sets the device on the central desk and flips open the lid. After clicking and holding a few buttons, she shakes her head. “Doesn’t look like it. That would’ve been too easy.”

A shame. But she was right; it would have been too easy, considering all the mastermind’s attempts to cut them off from the outside world. “Send it to Fujisaki. She should be able to figure something out from it.”

“I was already planning on that.” She sounds mildly miffed at the suggestion, as if affronted that he would think she wouldn’t come to that conclusion.

“Good. I’m glad you have half a modicum of common sense, then.” He sniffs. It was more than just about anyone else here, at least.

She faces him for a moment, long enough for him to wonder if she was glaring at him, before turning away. “Did you find anything of note?”

“Not particularly. Some interesting volumes to pass the time with, but nothing obviously relevant to our situation as of yet.” From what he could tell, and what he had Naegi explain, the shelves held more than just good books. There were also case files for crimes that never reached the public eye, documents of incriminating evidence and then some regarding some of the most powerful names in the world. He would have to pore through those individually later. And some medical textbooks - he made a mental note of their location, and a reminder to go back for them.

Kirigiri steps past him to run a hand across the surface of a low shelf, sending up a cloud of dust. He wrinkles his nose and steps back. “Do you mind?”

“Sorry. I was just reaching for this.” And she holds up a thin rectangle of parchment, sealed by red wax.

___

The letter creates some interesting revelations.

For starters, the school had supposedly been closed down for nearly a year by now. And secondly, it was due to some circumstance outside of anyone’s predictions or control, that the school shut down in the first place.

There was no other elaboration, and nothing could really be gleaned from it other than the mastermind possibly having more control than they originally thought, provided that the letter was real. It was a frustrating loop back to where they first started; nothing was gained from the loss in morale.

If circumstances were different, he would’ve chosen this moment to break off from the group. He found a new source of entertainment and information with which to use, and with Maizono breaking some unspoken promise, there was now no telling who might strike next. If circumstances were different, he would take this opportunity to try playing a more active role in the game, to see how much he could push his limits, to prove the value and right of his blood.

But with his current situation, he had no choice but to continue to participate in the inane routine that everyone agreed to partake in. Waking up at six AM sharp to dress and clean himself accordingly, taking extreme care to ensure nothing was out of place, and then walking to the dining hall to enjoy breakfast. Ishimaru was usually there at this time, as timely as ever and preparing breakfast alongside whoever’s turn it was to handle the meals that day, and could usually be coerced into making a half-palatable cup of coffee. Then was the usual waiting around as the others made their slow, meandering ways in, exchanging yawned greetings and calls for food.

He sat apart from everyone else, as usual. Sometime around seven, Naegi would show up, and bring over a plate of buttered toast and some cut fruit for Byakuya and move on without another word. At first, the others had exchanged curious, barely concealed whispers, wondering at the nature of their dynamic - now, they hardly paid any mind.

“Today, we should split up and look for clues!” Ishimaru declared, after they had eaten.

“Isn’t that what we do every day, anyways?” Asahina muttered under her breath. Her head was resting in her arms, sprawled on the table. “I wanna go to the pool…”

“Yes, I don’t see why we can’t take a day to enjoy the new facilities.” Celeste interjected, hands folded primly over her lap. “I doubt any of it is going anywhere. And we have endured quite a lot, have we not?”

“Yeah, we should take a break! For like, morale and stuff!” Yasuhiro agreed heartily, nodding emphatically.

As Ishimaru tried to regain control over the table, Byakuya silently agreed right along with them. By his calculations, it would take at least twice as long for him to read anything if Naegi was helping him. Any free time was valuable.

“Well- it’s better to get work done before leisure, you know!” Ishimaru tried again, voice raised. “Otherwise, how will we be dedicated students!”

“We’re hardly students at all though?” Naegi’s quiet voice piped up. “I mean, considering why we're here...”

The previously light-hearted atmosphere vanished instantly. Over the course of just a few days, they’d witnessed the deaths of three of their peers. As much as Byakuya respected the entirely logical reasoning that Naegi had offered, he also felt that it was rather mistimed.

He debated whether or not to offer his own input, before Kirigiri beat him to the punch. “Why don’t we do both?” Her tone was calm and clear as always. “I imagine we will all be in different locations anyways. If every person just makes note of something that’s interesting and worth remembering where they are, we can come together later and combine that information. Everyone who wants to investigate on their own is welcome to do so.”

There’s a chorus of agreement to that suggestion. Ishimaru seemed relieved by Kirigiri’s attempt to boost the group’s cohesion, though Byakuya doubted whether that was her real intention. Bit by bit, people began to split off; predictably, Asahina half-dragged, more-led Ogami away in the direction of the pool, and Celeste began demanding Yamada to make her some tea. Byakuya stood up, watched as Fukawa swooped in and took his empty cutlery, and beelined towards Naegi.

He reaches him just at the same time as Kirigiri, both of them placing a hand on the young man’s shoulders at the time. Byakuya locks eyes (presumably) with the girl, frowning. “Is there something that you need?”

“...No.” She releases him, and walks away. It takes both of them by surprise; Byakuya had been expecting a bigger fight.

“...What was that all about?” Makoto asks, bemused. Byakuya had no good answer to that question.

“You’d do better to stay away from her.” Is all he says instead, before dragging Naegi off.

He had a selection of books he wanted to read for his leisure in his room, but had left anything potentially case-relevant in the library. It is for this reason that he pulls Naegi into the room and positions him directly in front of a shelf of all case files, and points to the one on the right. “Start from there. If there’s anything in there mentioning ‘Hope’s Peak’ or crimes of passion, or killing games like this one, tell me, and we’ll go from there.”

“...Wait, for all of these?!” His voice is a little reedy still, presumably from last night - while he was slow at reading, he was decent at it, and not unpleasant to listen to - Byakuya had made him read aloud nearly half of a translated copy of Atlas Shrugged.

“Is there a problem?” He looks down on the other boy. “You said you’d be my eyes. This is part of what I need my eyes to do. Get started.”

He watches as Naegi wobbles for a moment, turning between him, the shelf, and the door, before reaching for the first file on the far right of the shelf and starting to skim through it. He’s slow, taking a good few moments to look through each page, so Byakuya sits down in the large leather chair by the desk, sinking comfortably into it.

It’s quiet in the library, silent if not for the distant hum of the building’s internal machinery and the occasional flip and shuffle of Naegi going through a folder. Not for the first time, Byakuya wishes for a radio, or a music player. Boredom was a dangerous thing - as Pennyworth had taught him, it dulled the brain and made for delayed, clumsy reactions - and Byakuya had already exhausted the few tricks and games he knew to combat it on his own.

Maybe, it’s for this reason that he decides to initiate conversation. With Naegi, of all people.

“What do you think of her?”

The commoner takes a little moment to respond, and when he registers the question, he predictably begins to sputter, fumbling with the papers in his hands. “I-I-! …Um, w-who…?”

Byakuya rolls his eyes. “Kyoko Kirigiri. Who else?”

Kyoko Kirigiri. He was hoping that, if this school was the Hope’s Peak Academy they were meant to enroll in, that there would be more information eventually revealed about her as well. But for the time being, she was a wild card, and a mystery. These were two things that made her dangerous, and a possible threat.

“Sh-she’s…well, she’s nice…I think?” Naegi tilts his head to the side, unsure about his own answer. “I mean…she helped me out a lot with the trial. I don’t think I would’ve been able to get through it without her help.”

Interesting. That was true from what Byakuya could tell, but it also seemed that Naegi had been doing most of the talking, with occasional interjections from Kirigiri to help push him in the right direction. It was a demonstration of clever manipulation, and one that irked him. If Naegi was going to be working for him, he needed to be free of outside influence.

“Keep looking through the files.” He nods at the shelf, and Naegi fumbles with the folder with his hands, flipping it closed and sliding it away. “I saw you and her talking the other day after the trial. What were you discussing?” He asks, voice casual and almost bored.

“Oh, that? That…” He trails off. He seems to almost visibly deflate, his form drooping over like an unwatered plant. “That was…about Sayaka. She wanted to reassure me that Sayaka still cared about me, at the end.”

Still cared about you? The notion was so preposterous that Byakuya couldn’t help stifling a laugh, instead snorting at the thought.

“...What’s so funny?”

“Sorry. I simply find the idea of it ridiculous, is all.” Sayaka Maizono, caring for him? Perhaps, but the entire plan that she had prepared was, albeit hastily executed, commendable in its elaborate design, considering the short time period in which it was concocted. Trying to derive small comfort from such an assumption was like trying to squeeze water from a stone; a pointless, frivolous task.

“Why?” Naegi’s voice is raised now, and he sounds angry. “It’s not ridiculous. We really were good friends-”

“Oh, please. Were you friends back in middle school? Or did you only watch her from afar?” Naegi shrinks back at the words, which meant that Byakuya had been spot-on. “And she only reached out to you after we found ourselves trapped here, and said all the right things to get you to follow after her like a starving dog.”

“Shut up.” Naegi says, voice so quiet he almost missed it.

“She could’ve used any of the half-witted fools in this class, but she used you because she knew you were unlikely to betray her.”

“Shut up.”

“Did you happen to make a promise to ‘help her no matter what?’”

“I said, shut UP!”

The sudden shout is accompanied by the rustle of papers hitting the ground, as Naegi drops whatever was in his hands to the floor. Byakuya remains carefully composed, though he suddenly feels incredibly wary.

“I’m only telling the truth.” He keeps his voice level, calm. Naegi was standing up, and somehow seemed bigger than before; though that was perhaps due to how Byakuya was sitting down. “It was obvious that she was trying to pin you under her thumb. She was going to betray you eventually, so it’s better to forget about her and move on.”

“You don’t get to say that stuff about her.”

“And why can’t I? Everything I say is simply meant as advice. Advice that you clearly need.” He continues anyways, trying to hide the unease creeping at the edges of his voice. Why did he feel so threatened? The only one here was Naegi. “You know it’s happening again, right? That Kyoko woman. She’ll do the exact same thing as Sayaka and you’ll be none the wiser.”

“She’s not like that.” His words are a low whisper now, barely audible. It seems to fill up the entire room.

“And how do you know? What do you know about her that no one else does?”

At last, he’s met with silence. A question that can’t be answered. He watches the realization sink into Naegi, watches his demeanor change, shrinking back to being small and meek again, and without realizing it he lets out a breath he’d been holding.

“...I don’t know.” Naegi says aloud, at last, and his voice is so small again. “I…I don’t know anything about her.”

“Right.” Byakuya nods, while feeling an inexplicable rush of relief. “So-”

“But I also don’t know anything about you.”

“...Excuse me?”

Not for the first time, he wishes he could discern facial features. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on them before; how telling they were to a person’s character, their emotions, their whims and ideals. Even Naegi, someone who should’ve been inconsequential to him, was capable of becoming dangerous. A treacherous link in a chain.

But Byakuya had no choice but to rely on him anyway.

Naegi turns around, and Byakuya suddenly realizes he was about to leave. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Sorry, I…can’t really think straight right now. I probably won’t be able to help you for a little bit.” There’s a tremor in his voice. Anger? Grief? “But I don’t know anything about you either. Yes, I know your talent,” He adds, as Byakuya opens his mouth to correct him. “And your secret, but…that’s still not enough, right?”

“This-This is different, though.” We’re built on more stable footing, he thinks. Naegi knew his secret and would help him navigate as needed. In return, he would use his authority to ensure the lives of Naegi’s family. That was their deal.

“Maybe, but still. There’s a lot I don’t know about you. And you’re right - I don’t know if I can trust Kyoko’s words, because she could just be trying to use me. Just like Sayaka did…” His voice trails, and he shakes his head. “But I also don’t know if I can trust you. Aren’t you just using me, like you say Kyoko wants to?”

Was he stupid? “Like I said, this is different.” He stands up, steps forward - and hears the crunch of papers beneath his feet, but there’s no time to worry about that now - “I’ve already sworn on my family’s name - there’s nothing else in the world that means more to me, not even my own life - and look at me. Do you really think I’m capable of anything when I’m like this?” He holds his hands out, gestures towards himself. This wasn’t turning out the way he wanted - all he had wanted was respite from boredom, and reassurance that Naegi wouldn’t betray him, and to get some sense into the damn peasant - “Makoto.”

Naegi turns away again. “...I’m sorry.” Byakuya can hear his hand on the doorknob, trembling slightly. “I promise, I’ll keep up my part of the deal still, but…please, let me off for now. To think for a bit.”

He still doesn’t move, however, and Byakuya belatedly realizes that he was waiting for permission. He hears the papers beneath his shoes crumple, as his heels dig into the carpet.

“...Fine, then.” He spits. “Get out. Go play with Kyoko, or whoever you want, and get your pathetic heart broken and betrayed all over again.” He watches Naegi cringe under these words, shying away as if they were physical blows. “Don’t come back to me until I say so.”

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff chapters #thpff #danganronpa #danganronpa fanfic #byakuya togami #makoto naegi

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