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densesindealer · 2 months ago

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Neo Word: Pacification Project Chapter Four

Dense and @thelewdpokemanik finally back with the fourth chapter of our story, sorry it took so long, you can blame Akane. Our story can still be found up on AO3 here. We hope to be finally returning to form with this chapter out of the way.

Akane stomped her way around the first island, frustrated, and, though she’d be damned to admit it, sore.

She’d lost to Coach Nekomaru and he’d insisted that she let Mikan fuss over her for like, forever when she wasn’t even that injured. She took a beating sure, but it was her pride that was bruised the most, not her body.

To make matters worse, after expending all of that energy fighting Nekomaru, she was hungry. She would love to get Teruteru to whip something up for her, but the chef was too busy preparing for the night’s party to cater to her demands. Sure, she could just go grab something in the kitchen if she really got desperate, but damn if the little man didn’t make good food.

Thinking about the massive meal the chef was going to prepare made her mouth water. Maybe she could wait out her appetite, and then cash in on it later that night with all of that food.

The gymnast paused, crossing her arms under her bust to think about what the best choice would be. If she followed her gut and waited it out, she wouldn’t be able to get another fight in with Nekomaru.

Then again, he hadn’t given her more than one fight a day since getting here anyway.

Hell, she’d damn near begged him for a second fight yesterday and he’d immediately turned her down. When she pressed the matter he threatened to turn ‘it’ away from her for the foreseeable future.

And she’d be damned if she passed up on one of the man’s massages. He was almost as good at that as he was at fighting.

As she stood there deep in her internal debate, the looming presence of the coach snuck up on her. His loud booming voice shook her from her state of pondering.

“Akane!” Loud as he ever was, she immediately felt a surge of hope that he was back to give her another fight.

But the moment she saw the look in his eyes, her hopes died as she realized he had a much different plan for the two of them.

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Akane groaned, only just keeping herself from sneezing from the amount of dust she was inhaling in the dirty storage room. “Why the hell are we doing this?”

“No complaining!” Coach Nekomaru called back, his arms folding an ironing table and leaning it against a wall. “We’re here to help our fellow students, and you need to learn some discipline, not to mention team spirit! If nothing else, you should contribute to the party you’ll be enjoying!”

Akane rolled her eyes. God, Coach could be so annoying when he got going on that kind of stuff. As long as she won it was fine, right?

Though she hadn’t been winning lately… She hadn’t even managed to get any food from the kitchen before Teruteru chased her out with a wooden spoon in hand, surprisingly territorial for such a little fella.

Maybe she should ask him for a fight sometime…

Akane clicked her tongue. Whatever. Cleaning was something to do, at least. Though this room really was a mess.

It was full to the brim with random shit, like the aforementioned ironing board, and three irons. Who the hell needed three irons? It also had a bunch of sheets, and cardboard boxes covering the whole back wall, not to mention everything else she couldn’t see in the dark room…

Akane sighed. Well, better get started. Coach Nekomaru could be annoying, but she didn’t want him to threaten to cut her off from ‘it’ again, not even jokingly.

And so, Nekomaru and Akane worked, moving the crap that filled the room around, and taking out the garbage they collected every so often as they slowly emptied the room of cardboard boxes.

It was alright work. Akane could at least feel her muscles work as she walked around and lifted shit, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Just most of one.

At least, until Akane realized that the box she’d just lifted was a fuck-ton heavier than all the others, making her blink, almost dropping it to the ground as she did.

“Shit-” But thankfully, she corrected her grip in time to not crush her feet or anything. God, how weak was she getting without fighting? Almost losing to a box…

“Akane! What’s up?” Coach called calmly, no doubt hearing her cursing.

“Nothin’. Just this box…” She said, hefting it out of the room and into the well-lit hallway, only to blink when Coach Nekomaru’s hand landed heavily on her shoulder.

“Wait. Let me see that.” He asked, and Akane shrugged, dropping the box to the floor.

Hm. Actually, this wasn’t a brown cardboard box. This was a proper, like, packaging box, with the name of the product on it and everything.

‘NXT Level Training Dummy’

On it, a plastic man was depicted, standing in some sort of stance maybe, with metal support holding some of the limbs in place.

“Oh ho! I was right!” Coach Nekomaru said, making Akane blink.

“About what?”

“This thing’s worth its weight in gold!” He proclaimed, slapping a big hand on top of the box.

Huh. Must be pretty pricey considering how heavy it was.

“It’s a ‘NXT Level Training Dummy’! This thing’s top-of-the-line when it comes to helping fighters train! A high-end dummy that fights back!”

Akane blinked. “Huh?”

“Yeah! You turn this baby on, and it’ll fight back against you! Of course, it still isn’t as good as a real flesh and blood partner, but I’ve used it in the past, and it's a damn good substitute!” Coach Nekomaru declared, and Akane lost all interest.

“If it's not as good as a real fight, then what’s the point?” She asked, shaking her head and heading back into the storage room.

“Wait, Akane.” Coach said, making her groan.

“What? Let’s get this done already so we can get to the food!”

Coach Nekomaru laughed loudly. “Finding some motivation now? Good! But what I was about to say is that you should take the dummy with you to your cottage.”

Akane blinked. “What? Why?”

“To train with of course!”

“You just said it wasn’t as good as the real thing!”

“And I also said it was the next best thing!”

“Why would I want to fight a dummy when I could fight you instead!”

Coach Nekomaru frowned. “That’s not like you at all, Akane. Refusing a fight?”

Akane frowned in turn. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means- What’s better? No fight, or a fight with a dummy?”

Akane opened her mouth, only to close it again. She hated wanting to fight, but not having anyone to do so. But wasn’t a fake fight worse than no fight at all?

Akane wasn’t sure.

Coach Nekomaru nodded. “Why don’t you try it out? Take it back to your cabin, and you can test it out. See what you think?”

Akane looked down at the dummy illustrated on the box. It was still in its fighting stance, though…

For some reason, Akane almost felt like it was taunting her. Like she was afraid she would lose to the dummy like she lost to Coach Nekomaru every day.

She grit her teeth, and crossed her arms. “Fine! I’ll beat up the stupid dummy!”

Coach laughed, slapping her on the back. “Good! Who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy training with it more than you do me!”

Yeah right. Like that was ever going to happen.

They tucked the box to the side, away from the trash, and resumed their cleaning, though the dummy never fully left Akane’s mind.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt compelled to try it out. She wanted to at least answer Coach Nekomaru’s question, if only so she could stop thinking about it, and get back to fantasizing about tonight’s food, and her next fight.

An exaggerated sigh passed her lips, bored of the seemingly endless cleaning. Her hands were better when she used them for fighting, though sadly, it appeared as if her next one would be against a dummy rather than Coach Nekomaru…

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Thankfully, the party’s food had been just as good as Akane had hoped for, if not even better somehow.

Teruteru really deserved to be known as the Ultimate Cook for a reason.

Sadly, her own bottomless stomach had managed to outlast his day’s worth of meal, especially when Byakuya had been matching her bite for bite, somehow still keeping his guard high all night long, even as he ate his fill.

Coach Nekomaru had also refilled his energy, but he still had refused her demand for another fight in the same day, instead pushing the dummy back into her hands and urging her to take it back to her cabin with her to try out.

Akane sighed. Stupid Coach. Stupid dummy.

She let the box crash down onto her cabin floor, and honestly, she was ready to just call it a day. But not really.

She was still wired up, and fiending for a fight. She couldn’t sleep like this!

But Coach Nekomaru would definitely give her shit if she went out in the middle of the night for a fight…

…

Akane stared down at the box at her feet, and sighed.

…

Fuck it.

She ripped off the cellophane tape keeping it closed, and began tearing the box open, revealing the dummy within.

It was exactly as shown on the box, just folded a bunch to actually fit inside, though…

Akane hummed curiously for a moment, before pulling it out.

It seemed, hm. Not, actually the same?

Akane began unfolding it, letting it stand up on its own in the same stance shown on the box, but…

Something was different.

She couldn’t really see what with her eyes, but her gut was telling her something was fishy. She was normally one for trusting what her gut told her. Though as she studied the dummy, trying her best to match it up to the picture on the box, it appeared normal. Yet her gut still pooled with something, almost akin to anticipation.

Oh, it definitely had the potential to be more fun than when she’d first been introduced to the idea.

It stood as tall as her, mostly made of a soft-looking skin-colored silicon, though strategically placed metallic parts helped it stand firmer, not to mention hit harder, no doubt. Those parts were white. On the silicon chest covering, Akane could see squiggly lines here and there, that vaguely gave her the impression of musculature, though they lacked most of the firmness she associated with it.

On the dummy’s face were some generic features Akane barely noticed, instead poking a finger into the dummy’s chest.

It was soft, and easily pressed in under her nail. Akane hummed for a moment.

Somehow, she got the impression the material would at least be satisfying to hit, close enough to a person that she could at least pretend it was one. That might be good enough, for now at least.

Still, she wasn’t going to hit an unmoving dummy. So, she quickly plugged it in, before returning to her position in front of it.

Hm. Now that he was plugged in, she watched it whir to life, whatever passed as it’s stand-ins for muscles coming to life, the joints of its limbs helping it stand to attention. And the eyes in the head of the dummy seemed slightly shiny. Was it watching her somehow?

Akane clicked her tongue, before shaking her head. Whatever.

As long as she could fight it, she didn’t give a crap about how it worked.

The dummy was still immobile, but Akane was done waiting. She lunged forward with a smile, her fist shooting into the dummy’s side, just under its ‘ribs’-

Only to miss completely and only hit the air as the dummy’s upper half spun on its axis, easily moving out of the way of Akane’s punch.

Her eyes barely had the time to widen before her instincts screamed at her, and only by throwing herself back desperately did she manage to only be clipped by the metal-covered elbow of the dummy as it swung at her head.

She spun on her heel, trying to keep her balance after her mad attempt to dodge, and only managed to do so by grabbing hold of the wall behind her.

She blinked, bewildered, a hand coming up to her lightly stinging chin, feeling the way faint sparks of pain danced under her fingers.

Dummy had some bite then, huh?

Akane smiled as she dashed toward the dummy once more, this time ready for it to dodge- only for her fist to slam into a metal bar as its forearm came up to block, making Akane blink in surprise again. The dummy had completely absorbed the hit, not even moving backward under her full-force punch.

So stunned was she, that she didn’t even notice the counterattack until a fist was buried in her stomach, launching her backward several steps as she coughed painfully, a hand rubbing at her sore abs, not to mention the way her knuckles stung from punching the metallic frame of the dummy.

Damn. Coach Nekomaru wasn’t just talking the thing up apparently. It really could fight.

But Akane wasn’t about to lose to some stupid dummy.

At least, that’s what she had told herself several minutes ago, when she had charged at it with a roar of challenge. Only to be countered with each attack leaving her on the losing end.

Now, bruised and battered, panting as she stared at the still untouched dummy, that confidence felt more like a small, heavy ball in her stomach that left her uneasy.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the yawn pulling at her lungs in the late hour of the night.

Fucking fuck. Shit. Goddammit.

Akane growled at the dummy, who pridefully refused to answer, leaving her to nurse her bruises as she went into the shower to clean up.

Her frustration didn’t leave her as she showered, nor as she dried, nor as she returned to bed, naked, glaring at the still-standing dummy.

Tomorrow.

She’d take her revenge tomorrow, and then she’d show Coach Nekomaru what his stupid dummy was worth.

With that thought in mind, Akane fell into an uneasy sleep, eager to stop thinking about the dummy.

Sadly for the gymnast, that wish would remain unanswered as the dummy haunted her dreams that night, somehow dancing around her as she tried to hit it, only to fail miserably at every opportunity.

On the other hand, the dummy’s blows always managed to find her, no matter how quickly she tried to dodge. The artificial flesh dug into skin, though the pain was barely noticeable compared to the shame she felt losing to it again and again.

Every blow felt like a mark of failure, a proof of her weakness as a dummy beat her with such ease.

And when she woke up the next morning, having slept so uneasily all night, to the sight of the still-standing dummy, looming over her, she jumped out of bed with a fire in her belly, not even stopping to dress herself.

The Morning Announcement hadn’t rang yet, which meant she had time before breakfast.

She would beat this dummy into a plastic pulp, and go celebrate her victory with a nice meal~

With an eager grin, Akane charged the dummy once more, her fist raised.

The dummy dodged her first blow, but Akane was ready for it this time.

She swung a wide kick toward the dummy’s turned upper half- only for her jaw to drop when the dummy folded in half at the waist, letting her kick sail over it harmlessly, and leaving Akane completely off-balance.

She was almost completely turned back and away from the dummy when she managed to stop her kick, and when she heard the dummy’s articulations force it back upright, she barely managed to grit her teeth before the dummy’s own kick slammed into her side, sending her to the ground with a cry of pain.

“Fuck!” Akane cursed, slamming her fist on the floor of the cabin. She tried to stand up again, but her side protested, forcing her to keep her torso curled inward, like a cowed animal.

She curled her hands into fists once more, feeling her nails digging into her palms.

“You- piece of shit!” She yelled, before charging again, ignoring the way pain lanced through her middle as she did, but this exchange was just as one-sided as the last.

And the next one even more so.

As was the next one.

The fifth time Akane fell to the ground, she curled up in a ball around the pain she felt in her stomach from the dummy’s front kick.

But this time, when she tried to stand up again, she simply couldn’t, her body refusing to obey her as it lit up in pain.

She panted, turning her head the slightest amount to glare at the dummy who was still standing tall over her, only for them to widen as the dummy took a step forward toward her.

She tried to stand again, only to fail once more, scrabbling on the floor like a wild animal, only to gasp as the dummy’s arms wrapped around her middle and lifted her up.

Akane tried to fight it off, but she couldn’t actually get enough momentum going to hit the dummy, nor could her fingers break its titanium grip.

That didn’t mean she didn’t try, of course. Only that she was completely ineffective.

She was completely helpless in its arms.

With a kick, the dummy opened the door of her cabin, and with the same ceremony it would show to putting out the trash, the dummy threw Akane outside her room, letting her roll on the paved road for a moment, her naked skin getting scratches on top of her bruises, and it was all she could do to stare at the dummy as it closed the door behind her, leaving her outside, naked.

It kicked her out of her room! Naked!

Fuck! If Byakuya saw her like this, he would lecture her for like, an hour!

Akane forced herself back to her feet, slowly and painfully. She still couldn’t really force her back up straight, but that didn’t stop her from walking to her door and throwing it open-

The dummy’s fist crashed into her chest, sending her back down to the ground, her heavy limbs not even trying to block the hit.

She fell on her butt, which meant she at least had a cushion to mitigate some of the pain, though clearly not all of it as she rubbed her stinging chest.

Fuck, She couldn’t fight her way back in right now…

Which meant being naked wasn’t her fault!

Akane felt relief at having an excuse to give Byakuya, only to freeze as another thought crossed her mind.

“Shit! I can’t let Coach Nekomaru know the dummy kicked me out of my room!” She scrambled back up to her feet, her eyes shooting to the other side of the divide, where his cabin was.

Coach would be out any moment now, and if he saw her naked like this, she couldn’t possibly explain that a dummy beat her and threw her out of her room! He would definitely refuse to fight her if she couldn’t even fight a dummy!

She needed to find clothes, and fast!

She spun on her heel, and began scanning the other cabins.

Chiaki, Ibuki, Mikan, Peko, Hiyoko and Mahiru’s clothes wouldn’t fit her.

Sonia was the right height, but she only had those long dresses, and Akane refused to wear one.

Which left her with- Nagito!

Akane rushed to the other side of the cabins to the only girl’s cabin on that side, and knocked furiously against the door.

“Nagito! Open up!” Akane called through the door, only taking a moment to make sure no one else was out and about.

She manages to hear something falling, or maybe someone cursing? An indistinct sound through the wooden door, moments before it was pulled open roughly, revealing an irritated Nagito behind it. The white-haired girl glared at the gymnast, only to blink as she actually took her appearance in.

“Akane?” She asked, confused. “You’re naked.”

Akane shrugged. “You’re not exactly dressed yourself.”

Indeed, Nagito’s t-shirt was askew, a milky white shoulder naked, and the thin fabric did nothing at all to hide the nipples poking through the fabric. As for her bottoms, Nagito was only wearing a pair of green panties. All in all, she was barely more dressed than Akane, but still-

“I’m in my cabin. I can dress how I want. What’s your excuse?”

Akane grimaced. “The dummy kicked me out of my cabin before I could get dressed. Can I borrow some of your clothes?”

Nagito’s confused expression swiftly morphed into anger. “No! You can’t have the clothes that Master gave me!”

She tried to slam the door in Akane’s face, but the gymnast forced it to stay open, leaning halfway through the doorway.

“C’mon~ Don’t be so stingy, Nagito!”

“No! You don’t deserve Master’s gifts!” Nagito protested, but even tired as she was, Akane could feel the way she was slowly but surely overpowering Nagito, And Nagito herself could feel it too, judging by the way her disgusted face was slowly but surely giving way to panic.

Akane smirked as she took a step past the doorway, though her nose twisted as she was instantly assaulted by the thick smell of a bitch in heat.

“Damn, did you really spend all day yesterday flicking the bean?” Akane asked, scrunching up her nose.

Nagito grit her teeth. “Fuck off! I’ve got better things to do than dealing with you! Just leave already!” She said, pushing against the door with all her weight, though she could only slow Akane.

“Stop being so selfish! I need clothes!”

“Selfish!? Get your own clothes! Master’s gifts aren’t for the likes of you!” Nagito declared, making Akane scoff.

“He ain’t even here, if your Master even exists at all. He won’t care.” Akane said uncaringly, only to almost stumble as Nagito began redoubling her efforts.

“Master’s real, you stupid whore! And!” Nagito yelled, pushing again, and this time Akane did stumble as Nagito threw herself against her door.

“Woah!”

“I won’t let you touch his gifts!” Nagito cried, and with one final shove, Akane was sent falling back down on her ass, blinking up at the triumphant Nagito stupidly.

The girl smirked down at the gymnast, a hand rubbing at the heart print on her shirt almost subconsciously, and Akane grit her teeth at the contented look in the lucky student’s eyes.

First the dummy, and now Nagito- Nothing was going Akane’s way today…

“Shit!” Akane cursed, before standing back up shakily, just in time to watch Nagito stare at her through a crack in the now almost shut door.

“If you’re so desperate for clothes, why don’t you go see Monokuma or Monomi? They probably expected a dumbass like you to manage to lose yours.” Nagito said, before closing the door with a final click, leaving Akane just as naked, and feeling twice as weak.

“D-Dammit…”

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Thankfully, Akane had managed to make her way into the old building next to the hotel before anyone else woke up.

Nagito never spoke with anyone else if she could help it, but if someone else saw her without her clothes, they might tell Coach Nekomaru.

And she couldn’t have that. No, Akane just needed a change of clothes, and then she could go eat breakfast, regain her energy, and go beat up that dummy once and for all.

And Nagito had at least given her another option to check out.

“Hey! Monokuma!” Akane said, waving her arms in front of a camera. “Come on out! I wanna talk!”

Akane didn’t have to wait long before Monokuma jumped out of the shadows, landing in front of Akane with a small puff of air as his squishy body hit the floor.

“Puhuhuhuhu~ It does warm my teacher's heart to have my students rely on me so eagerly.” The bear’s high-pitched voice said, before pointing a nubby hand at Akane’s bare tits. “But! Don’t you have any shame, showing your lewd body to your innocent teacher!”

Akane blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about!?” Monokuma repeated, pointing even more intently. “I’m talking about you, you exhibitionist! Look at yourself!”

Akane did.

“Look at those fat, groppable tits! That round, spankable ass! You’ve got so much meat on you you can’t take a step without bouncing like jello!”

Akane felt herself blushing. “I-I’m not fat!” She protested, and Monokuma’s eye twitched.

“I’m talking about your chest, chocolate tits! Don’t you have any shame? Or are you just a natural-born slut? You’re parading yourself in front of all those cameras without a care! Are you hoping someone is watching you through them!? Hoping some guy’s gonna take a liking to your lewd body and become your-” Monokuma froze for a moment in the middle of his monologue, making Akane blink, confused.

“My what?”

“Nothing!” The bear declared, stomping his soft feet against the ground in anger. “I just- Argh! You- If you want clothes just go to the supermarket, you stupid bimbo! I’m sure you’ll find whatever you’ll need to seduce yourself a hunk of a man- I mean- gawdammit!”

And with that final, frustrated cry, Monokuma vanished, leaving Akane to stare where he had stood moments, scratching her head.

Was Monokuma alright? He seemed strange, in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Well, not like Akane cared about his well-being, though the supermarket was a good idea.

Without wasting a moment thinking about Monokuma’s strange behavior, she dashed out of the old hotel, and rushed to the supermarket to find herself something to wear.

That dummy was as good as dead!

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God, the supermarket was a nightmare to try and find anything in. Just a bunch of useless junk, hell the snacks they had weren’t even that good! It was a struggle to find anything even feasible to use as clothing when the place was stocked up with crap like night-vision goggles, lines of junk food that was way worse than Teruteru could make and surfboards. Who would ever need that many surfboards?

With an aggravated groan as she moved more and more of the crap the store was selling she finally had some luck. Not that it was much. Tucked in the furthest corner from the entrance, hidden behind a terribly placed cut-out of Monokuma, was at least one shelf with clothes. Not that there was much there.

Only a few articles of clothing were available, and once Akane discarded what she physically couldn’t wear, she was left with only three.

A deep scarlet bustier that was partially see-through, lace work covering its middle in intricate designs, thin enough that she was worried she might tear just taking it in her hands. The actual cups at least were actually opaque, so Coach Nekomaru wouldn’t say anything. Probably. Hopefully.

To go with the top was a pair of skin-tight black leather pants. that Akane already dreaded trying to wear. She hated pants this tight, they didn’t let her move like she wanted. They got in the way of her strongest kicks, it made fighting a pain in the ass. And these pants especially were strange. Akane was pretty sure she hadn’t ever seen anyone wear something like this that wasn’t a hooker. The back of it looked torn, but the fabric was too smooth for it to actually be so. Meaning that, the way the fabric split down the middle and went halfway down her ass if she wore them, the two sides only just held together by string that left a lot of free space in between each strand to make sure not to block the view of her ass cleavage- all of that was intentional.

Thankfully, closing out the ensemble was a lacy pair of underwear, the same shade as the bustier. They were delicate and frilly, and looked uncomfortable, and honestly, they might not even be thick enough to actually hide her ass if she wore those pants.

A ragged growl left her lips before she could register it. She was angry, rightfully so. First, that stupid dummy managed to beat her, and then it kicked her out of her room before she even had the opportunity to get dressed or beat it. Now here she was, stuck with this shit, clothes that even looking at made her feel too womanly.

She didn’t want to be stuck wearing this crap, it was made for someone who actually wanted to look like a woman, she didn’t care about that. No, she wanted people to know she could fight, she wasn’t some fragile princess, she was a fighter and a damn good one, and these clothes didn’t show that. They would make her look like a hooker, or some girl trying to use her appearance to gain some dude’s attention at the very least.

It was everything she never wanted to be all wrapped into one and they were the only clothes around.

Maybe she could make it back to her dorm as she was, fight the dummy, kick it’s ass and wear her old clothes before anybody woke up. That had potential, better than wearing these and appearing weak for even a second. Yeah, that’s what she was going to-

The blaring to life of the speakers caused immediate panic to set within her, she knew what that meant.

Sure enough Monokuma’s high-pitched voice came through, as the monitors showed the black and white bear. It was morning time, and with that, the guarantee everyone was either awake or about to be.

Her hope for making it back to her room and beating that stupid dummy was immediately dashed. No chance she could make it back to her room faster than anybody would see her in the buff, and if one person did, Coach Nekomaru and Byakuya were sure to hear about it. Of all the things she needed, hearing a lecture from either of them was pretty low down the list. It always made her feel like a weak child.

She really didn’t have a choice, it was either face the lecture or bear with the clothing she had in her reach to avoid it. She’d only really need it until she got back to her dorm- By the time she was there and beat that stupid robotic monstrosity, she could change back into her old outfit and not have to worry anymore.

Akane grimaced, but still put on the clothing. The underwear felt like a size too small, and like it might tear in two if she so much as ran with them on, forget kicking. Not that the pants would allow her to- just bending at the knees was a struggle, though they weren’t as uncomfortable as she first feared. Still completely impractical and a nightmare to fight in for sure, but they didn’t feel like they would chaff as badly as she first thought.

Still annoying though.

And the bustier was actually pretty comfortable? The cloth was soft against her skin, much softer than anything else she’d ever worn- not that she cared about that of course. She cared about the way it hugged her middle too tightly, and pulled when she twisted her shoulders. At least it was the right size, hugging her tits tightly and holding them in place. It wouldn’t last in a fight of course, but it would last for the walk back to her dorm room.

Akane hummed for a moment after getting dressed. She’d never had clothes that hugged her skin so closely. They were impossible to ignore, as opposed to the loose, practical clothes she was used to that only just fluttered against her skin. These almost felt as if they were glued to her frame, and it honestly didn’t feel as bad as she initially feared.

Tight? Of course. Impractical? Absolutely. Girly? More than Akane would prefer, without a doubt.

Just wearing this crap made her feel weak, but it was better than facing a lecture from Byakuya or making a fool of herself in front of Nekomaru. Hopefully, she could just make it back to her cabin, show that stupid dummy its place, and get back into something more comfortable. Something that didn’t make her look like a whore.

Luck was mostly on her side heading back to her dorm, while others were leaving their cabins nobody really paid any attention to her. Nekomaru had to have left his room already or had remained asleep because she never saw him. However, her luck couldn’t last forever.

“Holy crap, Akane?” The high-pitched voice of Hiyoko stopped her in her tracks.

“What?” She tried her best to sound casual despite her appearance being anything other than normal.

For a moment, Hiyoko only stared at the gymnast, her mouth working soundlessly for a beat, before a smirk stretched her lips.

“Hehe…did you finally realize you had more boobs than brains?” She said, a small hand coming up to cover her giggling mouth.

Akane frowned. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you’re finally dressed like the cheap whore you were always destined to be!” Akane growled, taking a step toward the blonde, whose smirk only grew wider when she saw the way Akane’s pants strained slightly under her too-large footstep.

“Oh I know, I know. You finally realized there’s no way a weakling like you will ever actually manage to beat Nekomaru, so you’ve decided to try and seduce him! Gonna let him bonk you on the head and drag you back into his cabin caveman-style? Must’ve strained your pea-brain to come up with a scheme that complicated.”

Akane flinched despite herself, before shaking her head angrily. “I’m not weak!” She said, but Hiyoko had smelled blood in the water, and she wasn’t about to let go when she only just found a chink in Akane’s armor.

“Puh-lease~” Hiyoko said, her face taking on a moue of pity. “Nekomaru’s a tower of muscle. Anyone with eyes can see that if he wanted to, he would fold you in half in a second. Only reason there’s even a fight at all is because of how easy Nekomaru takes it on you, though I wouldn’t expect a stupid, brainless bimbo like you to have ever realized it.”

Akane could feel cold sweat dripping down her back, her muscles locking up involuntarily. “Y-You’re lying.”

But was she? Coach Nekomaru said so himself yesterday, right? That he was going soft on her? But, like, he wasn’t going that soft.

Right?

Hiyoko shook her head ‘sadly’ “Poor Akane… So stupid she can’t even realize what is so obvious to everyone else on this island. Listen up, I’m gonna give you some free advice.” Hiyoko said, taking rapid steps toward Akane.

Akane watched the blonde approach, perplexed- before crying out when her small hand lashed out and slapped one of her boobs.

“This stupidly lewd body of yours is obviously made for one thing only, and it’s not fighting.”

“Ow! You little-” Akane’s hand reached forward to try and grab the blonde, but her top caught in the movement, not letting her actually extend her reach properly and allowing Hiyoko to easily dance out of her grasp.

“D-Dammit…”

“So slooow~ Almost as slow as your brain, slowpoke.” Hiyoko said, giggling. “No amount of training will ever make up for your weakness, bimbo. How about instead of wasting your time fighting, you actually try and work on where your true talent lies? Who knows, maybe Nekomaru will actually help you become the Ultimate Whore~”

Akane could only grit her teeth as she watched a cackling Hiyoko scamper away, just knowing that there was no way she could catch up to the lithe dancer with these stupid clothes on.

Watching the girl go, her own irritation at its peak, she finally managed to make it back to her own cabin. Hiyoko’s words lingered in her mind as she prepared to open her door.

She wasn’t weak, she knew she wasn’t. Yet the fact she had to dress like this and how she ended up in this position at the dummy’s hands made her feel like maybe she was overestimating herself.

Was Hiyoko right? Was Nekomaru taking it easy on her because he knew she couldn’t handle it? Hell, was the even dummy too much for her?

Akane shook the questions and doubts from her mind. She was better than that shit. She was a fighter, strong as hell and she’d show them. She’d show Hiyoko she was wrong, Nekomaru that he didn’t need to take it easy on her-

And most of all, she’d show that stupid dummy that it had nothing on her.

A fire relit in her belly and she was ready, cracking her knuckles before throwing open her door, burying those doubts Hiyoko had helped form. This dummy wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Yet opening her door, where she expected the monstrosity of a machine to immediately attack, was nothing. It didn’t strike, it didn’t send out a flurry of kicks or chops, absolutely nothing.

Instead the dummy stood tall in the center of her room, facing her as she stepped forward. Almost like it was eyeing her as prey, and though she’d never admit it, the sight made her skin crawl. Despite this being her cabin, Akane couldn’t help but feel as if she had wandered into a dangerous animal's territory. It cut an imposing figure, seemingly looming over her despite the fact it had no height advantage over her.

Its head moved slightly, like it had eyes raking over her form, almost like it was appraising her outfit. Whether to judge her for her ability to fight in it, or for if she looked good in it, she wasn’t entirely sure.

Whatever it was doing, Akane wasn’t planning to let this opening go to waste. She needed to strike first and needed to lay into it hard, and even with her currently limited mobility, she couldn’t let it rear up for any offense of its own.

With a cry, Akane charged, doing her level best to ignore the way her tight clothing immediately began fighting her movements. She tried to send a high kick at the dummy’s head- only for her pants to categorically refuse to allow that, leaving her off balance as her foot flew toward the dummy’s middle, where it was easily- caught.

Akane was forcefully kept upright by the dummy’s grip on her leg as it was held between its torso and arm. She jerked it, trying to free herself, but the grip was solid like steel, not letting her move an inch, at least, not of her own volition.

The dummy’s grip shifted, lifting her leg higher, making Akane’s eyes widen as she felt her pants strain against the motion, her one leg still on the ground tilting- until, with a push, her leg was released, making her almost spin in a pirouette as she tried, but failed, to remain standing. She ended up landing on her hands and knees facing the door, and though she was uninjured, she felt her face heat up at the way her opponent was so casually manhandling her.

With a growl, she stood up again and turned around, only to blink as the dummy’s ‘eyes’ rose up to meet hers.

Was it- Was it just staring at her ass?

Wait- no- it didn’t hit her! When it caught her and she was at its mercy- It just, pushed her over- so it could stare at her ass?

Akane stared at the dummy with wide eyes, trying to make sense of these events, only to blink again as she realized that the dummy’s ‘eyes’ hadn’t actually met hers. No, they had stopped early.

Akane opened her mouth to say something, only to immediately shut it again, her mouth stretching out into a savage grin.

Her muscles tensed, and using the dummy’s distraction against it, she launched another surprise attack, her fist flying toward the side of the dummy’s head in a vicious right hook.

The dummy seemed to jump, almost in surprise, though it quickly managed to rebalance itself and dodge her strike, though clearly without the ease Akane had come to expect from it.

In fact, if she had been but a tiny bit faster, she might’ve managed to touch it!

Had it really just been distracted by her body?

Akane had no time to consider that since the dummy’s counterattack soon struck her, and though she braced herself for the hit-

She wasn’t ready for the open-palm strike on her ass as the dummy moved around her, making her cry out.

Akane froze for a moment, her eyes wide and bulging as she tried to understand what had just happened, which only left her open for the dummy’s second strike on her other cheek, making her jump with a growl.

Akane spun on her heel, turning to face the dummy once more, ignoring the way her face was burning in humiliation, not to mention the heat radiating from her ass.

“Y-You fucker!” She screamed out in rage at the dummy, the machine that had the audacity to treat her like that.

The anger she felt was all the motivation she needed to launch herself back at the plastic predator, ignoring the way her clothing constricted as she lunged forward. Hands outstretched to attempt any kind of a punch or even a grapple if need be. Only for the dummy to twist and allow her to sail past cleanly, not wasting a moment to send a strike once again aimed at her ass.

The sound of the spank echoed in her cottage, followed by the softest of groans that Akane involuntarily let out. She grit her teeth to attempt to curb the sound- it was a natural response to the spank, nothing more. Yet it didn’t quell the rage she felt at once more being treated like a joke by a training dummy. She was better than that, no matter what anybody said.

A growl replaced the groan and she spun around to face the dummy once again. She couldn’t let these attacks stand, it was treating her like a joke like a toy. She clamped down her mind against the unbidden thoughts, and readied herself to attempt another strike, carefully tracking the dummy for another attack aimed towards her ass. Akane launched an intentionally slower-paced punch, hoping to catch it off guard when it went for the inevitable swing that it seemed to be favoring.

Sure enough, she witnessed his arm extend after a relatively simple dodge of her attack, spinning on her heel to turn her backside from its reach, shock filled her as a slap didn’t land where she expected it. Instead of its plastic hand falling on her backside, it collided against her chest, causing a whorish moan to escape her lips at the contact. As much as she wished to ignore it, some deep recess of her mind made sure that was what she remembered first.

How could she not have noticed it? Why did it feel so good? She knew an attack was coming, she saw it move and she should have been able to block it, hell she should have known where it was aiming too. So why hadn’t she been able to do anything? Why did it feel so good? The thought crept back into Akane’s mind and she ruthlessly stamped it back down.

She was wrong before, it wasn’t treating her like a joke. It was treating her like a woman, like a toy. Her earlier worries came back to her along with Hiyoko’s words. It was treating her like a slut, like Hiyoko had called her, like how her clothes made her feel. A primal growl escaped her once more, she was better than that, Hiyoko was wrong about her right? This dummy was going to learn that the hard way, and no matter how it felt, she was going to beat this machine until it couldn’t function.

Centering her mind, readying herself, Akane took off in a flurry of blows, matched beat for beat by the dummy. Every punch she threw drew one back, every kick was dodged, and the slaps and spanks kept coming. She ignored every feeling, the flutter in her chest when it grazed any part of her body, the way her voice came out without her intent every time she was struck. She was better than that, and she could ignore that feeling in order to destroy this fucking dummy.

Her clothes strained with every movement, and her mind raced to keep up even as her body slowed down. She knew the clothing inhibited her movement, but the last time she’d attempted this without anything on, she ended up locked out of her room. There was no time to adjust her outfit, to attempt to change into something more suitable, and she barely cared. All she needed to do was maintain her focus, prove that she wasn’t just some weak slut girl who didn’t know how to fight.

Ignoring the light shaking in her body, chalking it up to just being a bit out of breath, she brought herself back to center. Then the thought struck her, that she was always the one pressing the attack, and every time the dummy countered with ease. That must have been what she was doing wrong, she was allowing the damn thing the opportunity to strike back. If she let it make the first move, she could perform a counter of her own. It would be easier to tell where it was aiming and to avoid the strike, even though a traitorous part of her mind wasn’t sure getting hit was such a bad thing.

So she put forth her new plan, staring down the machine, preparing herself for it to attack. Her eyes focused on its hands, ready to take hold of an arm and to throw it when it inevitably-

“Ahhn~” The most whorish sound she had produced spilled from her lips when the dummy struck her.

She was so focused on her own plan and tracking the aim, but she forgot just how fast the damn thing could move, hell she hadn’t even really seen it strike. Yet somehow it had a hand latched to her breast, and her body felt a heat that made her legs quake. She needed to strike, it was distracted now, and even if its grip seemingly refused to loosen, it was providing her with the perfect opportunity to perform the toss of her dreams.

Yet her hands refused to move, hell her entire body did as the dummy’s hand shamelessly groped her abundant chest. Another wanton moan left her lips as the hand grazed her hardened nipple. When did they get like that? From the movement she noticed her entire body somehow felt even weaker.

With a great amount of effort, when it shouldn’t have been nearly as hard to move, she managed to finally raise her arm. She was prepared to strike, finally a moment to capitalize that she could take. Yet her hand clenched around the robotic wrist, and pressed the dummy’s hand further into her chest. Instead of sending the monstrosity flying away from her, she brought it closer, and she let out a soft mewl.

Why did…why had she done that?

She was supposed to be fighting right? So why was she…acting…acting like a-

Whore

The word Hiyoko had called her earlier rang through her head, and something deep in her core vibrated just thinking of it. She was supposed to be fighting, hell not just fighting, but winning. Akane was supposed to be beating this dummy and proving she had what it took to take down Nekomaru. It was all to prove she could fight, that she wasn’t some weak girl who needed someone to take it easy on her.

Yet, she was acting just like a whore.

Exactly how Hiyoko had described her.

Exactly how her clothes made her feel.

Exactly what she was supposed to be.

Her mind was hazy as she tried to fight the thoughts that formed. This was all because of that stupid machine. This stupid dummy, it was taking advantage of her, making her feel weak and Hiyoko hadn’t helped. She just needed to fight back, she could do that right? Fighting is what she was made for, and just because the dummy was making her feel good doesn’t mean the loss wasn’t stinging more.

The signs of her arousal leaking down her thighs were only a coincidence.

She could do this, her mind focused once more, her grip tightened on the robot's wrist as she yanked its hand from her chest. Akane only stuttered for a brief moment, a momentary feeling of loss as the lack of contact. Taking a deep breath, she launched her other hand towards the dummy and-

Thud

It was an oddly soft sound for the collision, but that didn’t matter, because she had finally managed to land a solid blow. There was finally definitive proof that she knew what she was doing, that she was built for this.

Better yet, the dummy seemed to be reeling from her attack, it wasn’t moving, just staring down at her. Almost like it was processing what happened, and realizing she was finally learning. She looked the dummy over, ready to assess the damage she had managed to do, when she noticed exactly where her hand had landed.

Her hand was placed directly on the dummy’s crotch.

Exactly where it was supposed to be.

Hah! That’s why it must have been stunned, her hand was…oh god her hand was on its crotch!

She pulled her hand back with a quick tug, like she had been burned. Her cheeks felt warm and she realized what she had done. How had she even done that? She was aiming for its chest, that was way lower…so how had she…

What was happening to her? She couldn’t manage to keep her thoughts organized and everything was confusing. Her head was foggy and her body felt weaker than ever, and she was the one who had landed a hit this time, even if it wasn’t in the right place.

Her eyes lowered to the floor, and strangely the dummy didn’t strike despite the window of opportunity she was providing. Akane didn’t mind, it gave her time to try and organize her mind.

What little she could through whatever haze was consuming it.

Why was everything going so wrong?

She couldn’t manage to beat it when she first tried. There hadn’t been so much as a scratch on the damn thing when it tossed her out of her own damn room that morning. When she had managed to return more clothed? Well even then she couldn’t do a damn thing to it, even then it managed to best her at every turn.

Why was it managing to beat her so easily?

Hell, it was even toying with her!

It was…it lunged at her lewdly, it took advantage of her restrictive clothing to strike her in places that were the most sensitive. It made her feel ineffective, it made her feel weak.

It made her feel soft.

It made her feel good.

Finally the thought came to her, and this time she didn’t fight it. The dummy had made her feel good, every time it beat her, it could have done so much worse. It could have punched, kicked, even thrown her. Yet it hadn’t, instead, it made her feel so good she couldn’t even control her own voice.

The wet feeling on her thighs proved that to be the case, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit the truth before.

Every loss she took, every failure, felt good, better than anything.

It was better than food, better than fighting Nekomaru.

It was better than winning.

It felt good to lose.

It felt so good to lose.

As the thought repeated itself in a loop on her mind, a question began to form. One she didn’t think she’d need to ask, yet it was there all the same.

Did she even want to win?

That’s…what she was good at right?

She was good at winning?

Somehow the concept seemed just as foreign as the question of whether or not she wanted to win. Was that why she hadn’t noticed how good it felt to lose? Was she too good at winning that a loss never occurred?

No.

She lost to Nekomaru every time they fought. Yet that didn’t feel the same.

So why was this so different? Why did it feel so good?

Her eyes rose to find the dummy, to study it as though it held the answers she sought, and everything finally connected. It was like she was looking at it in a whole new light.

She took in every detail of the dummy she hadn’t cared to look at before. Her eyes roamed its form and raked in every ounce of perfection that she could. It’s muscles were definitely not extremely defined, but they clearly hid a power that she herself lacked. It wasn’t even tall, hell it was shorter than her, yet it was imposing and made her feel small.

Her eyes continued to roam, and she landed on its face, which after all this time she had largely ignored. It had soft eyes, ones devoid of malice, with a soft hazel colouring to them. A small smile graced its face, one that felt both encouraging and demanding, though she didn’t quite know what it seemed to want anymore. Finally the light brown hair caught her attention, it was somehow both spiky and soft, even with the antenna, a…ah…ahoge maybe, on top of it.

It was designed to look like perfection, at least that was the first thought that managed to fight its way through the haze in her mind.

That was why it felt so good to lose with the dummy and never with Nekomaru.

This…he was perfection in a way Nekomaru wasn’t.

Not the dummy, not truly, but the man they had modeled it after.

Her realization was sudden, abrupt, yet it wasn’t short of wonder. It was the final moment of understanding with everything that had happened. She was an idiot for not understanding earlier.

Did she even want to win?

Why would she?

She wasn’t good at winning against him.

That was what made it fun, the way he put her in her place. He turned her to putty with ease, and made her soak her gorgeous clothes by doing so.

This was what she was good at.

This is what she was made for.

Hiyoko was right.

Akane was a whore, a bimbo, brainless and stupid, because she didn’t understand until now.

She had spent so much time trying to win against him when that wasn’t what she was meant to do.

No.

Akane was made to lose to him.

She was made to submit to him.

She was made to submit to her master, like a good whore should.

The thought made a familiar feeling climb its way back up. The lust was unyielding and her arousal was reignited. Accepting her place was a pleasure that didn’t compare to the feeling of the dummy’s hand on her body.

But that didn’t mean she was adverse to it~

Akane was panting as she stared at the effigy of her Master, an unhinged smile on her face.

“Please, show me my place, Master~” She begged, before lunging at the dummy.

But there was no fighting this time. Her legs were weak and unsteady, her cunt was drooling, and her arms were made to embrace her Master.

And that’s exactly what she did, throwing herself at him, her arms around the dummy’s neck and hanging off it, staring up into the replica of her Master’s visage as the dummy’s hand fell on her ass one more time, eagerly taking what he wanted from her body.

Heavenly pain shot through Akane’s spine and exploded like fireworks in her brain as she moaned, again and again as the dummy spanked her harshly, its strong hands easily sending quakes through her fat ass.

If this is what a replica of her master was capable of, she couldn’t wait to see what He would do to her~

The thought ignited her arousal, and when the dummy’s hand gripped her ass, mauling it like it was branding it for her Master-

Her vision swam, and for just a moment, she saw not the dummy, but her Master, standing above her and rewarding her for her lewd body-

And she came.

Pleasure and pain intermingled intoxicatingly in Akane’s brain, turning every thought not related to her Master into a slurry as her weak body failed her.

Her battered body fell to the ground bonelessly, her pleasure-drunk brain intermingling truth and illusion.

And she smiled up at her Master as she passed out, happier than she had ever been.

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When Akane next woke up, it was to sunlight piercing through her window and jabbing at her eyes.

She slowly raised herself, groaning as her bruised body aching from sleeping on the floor, at her Master’s feet-

‘Master <3’

The thought was like adrenaline to Akane, who looked back up to the dummy-

Who looked like an ordinary dummy.

Akane felt her heart deflate as she saw that it was no longer her Master’s effigy- Or rather, maybe her Master had been the one to inhabit it?

Just the thought of it made Akane’s pussy moisten.

She grinned as she forced herself to her feet, her smile only widening as she felt the bruises her Master had left on her yesterday make themselves known.

She waddled to the mirror in the bathroom, and shimmied out of her pants, staring at her own ass, at the purple bruise her Master had lovingly given her~

Akane’s hand traced the brand, a whimper climbing out of her throat as her nail glided over the sensitive skin, but the pain couldn’t do anything to wipe the smile off her face. No, if anything, it only fueled it.

Akane giggled stupidly to herself, her free hand diving into the front of her pants.

She couldn’t wait to see her Master again <3

#danganronpa18 #akane owari18

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densesindealer · 2 months ago

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MHA Story!

So I somehow ended up finally starting an idea for an MHA story that has been living in my head for a while. So I have no officially written the first chapter and posted it on AO3, I'd post it here as well, but quite honestly, it's easier to just post a link to the story.

Summary: Growing up quirkless was basically a death sentence, at the very least it wasn't going to lead to a pretty life. That was what was expected when he was diagnosed as Quirkless at four years old. Thirteen years later was when everything changed, when All Might told him those fateful words, that he could be a hero.

However the true start of his journey was a year later, when an eighteen year old Izuku Midoriya awakened his true quirk, the one he didn't think he had. That was when life truly changed, or perhaps when it truly began, with untold power at his fingertips, and the desire to be less selfless and more selfish growing the more he used it. It started as a mere accident, but things rarely stayed accidental in the world of quirks.

He would change, things would be different, and when the world is in your grasp? Well, it's hard not to take the plunge.

If you're curious what it's about, it's a story focused on Midoriya and him having a quirk of his own. One that is far more lewd than usual, and one that is quite frankly, disgustingly overpowered, which is the point. It's a story focused on Mind Control, Gender Transformation, Harems, and of course, Lewds. If that interests you please check it out, though right now the first chapter is just set up, and the second chapter will be much the same.

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densesindealer · 2 months ago

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MHA Story!

He would change, things would be different, and when the world is in your grasp? Well, it's hard not to take the plunge.

#Dense's Stories #MHA18 #Izuku Midoriya18

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densesindealer · 2 months ago

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Oh, i actually wanted to ask another thing: You have a story with akane as your main focus? 'cause if it is that way, damn. Tough work :/

No, the main focus is the entire cast of the second game at the moment. Each character has an individual chapter. Hers was just a roadblock. If I was tackling a story focused solely around Akane, I would probably manage better because I would feel more comfortable tweaking parts of her character for the sake of the story.

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densesindealer · 2 months ago

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I mean... maybe you aren't that creative then, cause people had done cool stuff with her.

First off, that comes across as rude for no reason. Don't know if that was your intent, but I'd highly recommend not just saying something that sounds insulting.

Secondly, just because someone else had some good ideas for her doesn't mean every other writer will. That's the opposite of how creativity tends to work.

Finally, Akane can be used for stories just fine. It's this story in particular or stories in which she isn't changed at the start that give me issues. I'm more than happy to write ideas for Akane that are formed on the basis of "What if her life was just slightly harder?" or "What if she did x, or acted like y?" Those ideas are fun to do, but they aren't viable for this story at all.

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densesindealer · 2 months ago

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About akane...doesnt that give you a lot of freedom to create? There was some writer who said that, or something similar...

There is not any relationship between Owari and her siblings? Make one! Maybe she is afraid of failure because shes the oldest and thinks that she has to act unstoppable (showing that shes not dumb at all), maybe life hardened her and thats her trying to protect her family, maybe you can try and make the siblings more relevant in your story...

While there is not a lot of lore with her, that gives you the liberty of making one and making her a more complex character :D

I'm with you on the ability to make a character complex, but that isn't so much her potential. Akane herself has nothing going for her, and doing that would be "what if Akane was different?" It's actually fun to write characters like that sometimes, but it's not the character having potential as much as it is a personal storyline or idea having it.

I think that's because, from at least my point of view, what's being described comes across like this. It's less of "How would these things affect Akane?" and more, "How would the story change if Akane acted differently?"

That doesn't mean that's bad by any stretch, but it's just not what I'm aiming for in this situation. The story is about the characters acting as themselves and how they would be changed or transformed from that point. Not even via deep consequences or anything (Well, except Makoto, his entire storyline is how his actions and their results affect him).

Instead, it's about who they are fully, naturally, and how their genuine traits could be flipped in full.

I don't know if any of what I said makes sense, I just woke up. Hopefully, I got my point across, tho.

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densesindealer · 2 months ago

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She does care about her siblings, maybe you can use that?

See I thought about that at first, because that is something the game tells you repeatedly. Yet in the story and even in her free time events, her siblings aren't really ever important. They are the catalyst for why she fights to be strong at least in part but not really. They just kind of exist and that's it. Instead, they provide nothing and she remains an oblivious idiot, who focuses on food and fighting because she is terrified of being weak. Her siblings genuinely contribute nothing to her story, because they only provide and are mentioned at the bare minimum level to pretend she has depth.

Regardless of how I feel about her backstory, it also wouldn't work with the story nor the plan for her character. It's genuinely just that she is so ungodly bland that it's hard to think of a way to write her character because she doesn't have anything to work off of. Writing someone who cares about their sibling is better off in the hands of Makoto, Fuyuhiko, Rantaro, or even Asahina who have better established relationships with their siblings, or where it's central to parts of their characterization as a whole like Rantaro and Fuyuhiko.

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densesindealer · 2 months ago

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Akane Owari? What did she do?

Her existence is an issue and her pulse is my problem.

The real answer is that Akane has no personality traits that amount to good character writing. Food, Fighting and Idiocy. She doesn't inspire any amount of creativity from me, and I'm working on my longer form story I have with my partner and she is the fucking roadblock of my nightmares.

#Hajime and Himiko are still worse tho

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densesindealer · 2 months ago

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Just for reference, I absolutely loathe Akane now. That's it, that's the post. Fuck Akane and her entire bloodline.

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densesindealer · 8 months ago

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how do making prompts work?

how specific should we be with our requests?

You essentially just choose any character or characters you want to see in a story, along with any kinks and a basic overall story, with as much or little detail as you want.

You just send a request to my inbox, phrasing the story however you'd like, making sure to include your characters and what specifically, story wise or basic plot wise you want.

That's pretty much it.

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densesindealer · 8 months ago

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what kind of writings are these?

slow corruption

mind break

instant loss

I'm assuming you're asking me to explain them the way I see them. They can be different from person to person sometimes, but usually are similar at the very least.

Slow Corruption - This is a slow level of someone turning into a slut, be it in general or in the case of how I write, for one person specifically. Meaning they start the story as their normal self, and as it progresses (usually at a slower pace than a day or less) they change more and more. Mentally they're more addicted to the attention of one specific person, generally their hornier, sometimes it's that they're dumber or more. The corruption is mostly an alteration of the person they were into someone that the male muse in that scenario would want as a whore, slave or something like that. It focuses on the mental aspect of the character rather than anything physical.

Mind Break - In comparion to Slow Corruption, this is much much faster. It's when the pleasure of a situation rewrites them. Mostly getting screwed so well, and feeling so much pleasure their mind breaks and they become addicted to the person screwing them, usually swearing themselves body and soul to the person doing it. It's so much pleasure that it breaks their brain and they end up completely addicted and can't do anything but crave more.

Instant Loss - This is the most murky area to me in terms of it being different for whoever is writing it. To me, instant loss is when a challenge or fight is initiated only for one side to end up losing in a matter of moments, and then to end up paying that loss or challenge forward by getting screwed into submission. It's that or, when someone gets fucked assuming they can hold out against it and leave it as is (when someone is resistant to the idea but has no choice like it was a bet or needed to gain information) but from the moment it starts, they lose completely, giving into the pleasure the moment it comes. Losing their original purpose and switching over, they could care less about winning, holding out, their original purpose or lover, all in favour of getting fucked. All in an instant. Something that usually pops up in this is someone being cocky about someone being small, only to be immediately shocked by the size of the person screwing them.

That's the best way I can think of to describe all of those, at least the way I tend to see them. Ya'll are always free to ask me stuff like this.

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densesindealer · 8 months ago

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requests still open?

Requests on my blog are always open, I just tend to bounce between projects so I'm never consistent with anything getting posted here.

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densesindealer · 10 months ago

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Neo World: Pacification Project, Chapter Three

Dense and @thelewdpokemanik back again with the third chapter of our story. It can still be found up on AO3 here. We hope to keep it going strong, so please enjoy!

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Chapter Three: Panic, Persuasion, Pacification

His entire body felt numb, that was the only possible way to describe the state he was in. His stomach was twisting itself in knots and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. He must have gone pale, or at the very least it must have been evident that his thoughts were a mess. If it wasn’t for the soft squeeze of the hand on his shoulder he would have believed this was merely a dream.

What had he done?

He did his best to resist the urge to retch, to avoid the disgust creeping its way up his throat. Another gentle squeeze, grounding him and carefully guiding his swaying body to a seat. His vision was hazy, it was hard to focus on anything other than the reality of what had occurred.

“Makoto.” Another squeeze, this time on his thigh, and he tried his best to focus his vision.

Slowly the figure in front of him came into proper view, Celeste, possibly his closest friend staring at him in deep concern. Always the calming force to his anxiety.

“Makoto, breathe.” He didn’t debate the command, and sucked in a deep breath. Such a simple action but upon releasing it he felt his tension ease, or at the least, the trembling in his hands cease.

“Wh-What did I-”

Celeste cut him off sternly, though not unkindly. “No, you will not go blaming yourself for this.”

Makoto barely heard her. “I did this…I made hi-”

“Look at me.” His eyes carefully rose to peer into the rubies that made up her own.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you understand me?” Celeste enunciated carefully, and Makoto felt frustrated with the sincerity he saw in her eyes.

“I chose to use that program! How could you say I didn’t do anything wrong when I caused this?”

“You did what was right! You stopped Nagito from committing a murder! You did nothing wrong.” The words felt heavy upon his ears, unnatural.

Wrong.

She stared at him, scrutinizing every twitch of his body, carefully calculating her next move, before finally letting out a soft sigh. She sank down to her knees to match his eye level.

“I understand how you feel, but look at this matter from a different perspective.” Celeste began, making Makoto blink.

“I don’t-”

“What would have been the preferred outcome?”

“What?”

“Should we have left Nagito to plot a murder? Should we simply have done nothing and let him start another killing game?” Celeste proposed.

Makoto’s stomach churned. “Of course not! None of them deserve to die!”

Celeste nodded, a slight smile on her lips. “On that we agree. Staying out of it was simply out of the question. So…what should we have done?”

Makoto’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, though only just the one. “We should have found a way to stop him… Helped him realize that he didn’t need to do something so drastic.”

“Is that not what we did?”

Makoto’s eyes flashed in irritation. “It’s not the same, and you know it.”

Celeste didn’t try to defend herself, though her expression was still perfectly at ease. “Is it pretty? Is it perfect? Of course not, but was it necessary?”

“No! It wasn’t! We should’ve tried to find another way to change his mind!”

“What other way? We’re functionally locked out of there, and you used the only way you had to save someone’s life. Probably saved Nagito’s life too.”

Makoto’s head fell in his hands. “I ruined his life.”

Celeste scoffed. “Please. She doesn’t have a life to ruin anymore. You’ve already gone against the Future Foundation to save them, and now, you saved her life again.”

“His.”

“You saved her life, and probably the life of many others by stopping Monokuma’s Killing Game! Are you really going to stand there and say you regret doing that!?” Celeste said, her eyes almost physically drilling into the top of Makoto’s skull, even though he couldn’t meet them.

Because he knew. He knew he didn’t regret it. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t allow the Killing Game to start again.

And if he knew then what he did now- If he had to go back, and decide…

Makoto would use the Pacification Program to stop Nagito. Every time.

If he had to choose between using the Pacification Program and allowing someone to start the Killing Game, he would choose the former.

Every. Time.

Makoto’s shoulders slumped. Well, there wasn’t anything to do about it now, was there?

“God, what are we going to tell Kyoko?” He wondered aloud, already feeling the dread pooling in his stomach.

“You will tell her nothing.” Celeste hissed, making him look up at her venomous expression.

“Celeste-”

“No! I will not hear it!” Celeste said, her arms crossing angrily. “I am not giving her the opportunity to stab us in the back again!”

Makoto winced. “She’s not like that anymore…”

Celeste clicked her tongue. “If you truly believe that, then you are a fool. Kyoko will only give you enough trust to hang yourself with.”

“Which I did…”

“You did not! But Kyoko is stupid enough to believe you did, I have no doubt.” Celeste bit out, her voice a cold hiss.

“I mean…” Makoto’s eyes drifted to the pod where Nagito’s body rested. His changed body, let’s be clear.

He was still wearing his old clothes, and they fit her- him, pretty badly. Makoto was almost worried he might suffocate in them or something, the chest was so tight, her breasts almost looking ready to pop out of them, no, his breasts- His breasts?

Makoto stared at the sleeping- Nagito for a moment longer, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head telling him the shirt should be removed- for health reasons only, of course!

“How do you expect us to explain that?” He asked Celeste instead, who smiled demurely.

“We won’t have to, of course. Kyoko’s too busy in the field to bother coming by, and as long as we don’t bring her attention to it, why would she even ask about Nagito’s gender?”

Makoto grimaced, but he could hardly fight the point. “And once the program runs its course? What are we going to say then?”

Celeste shrugged. “I think we have more important things to worry about. We don’t even know if they’ll make it to the end. Maybe our problem will solve itself.” Celeste said pleasantly, and Makoto couldn’t help the uncomfortable chuckle that escaped him.

“Please don’t joke about that…”

Celeste’s smile softened a touch, growing a bit more sincere. “Don’t worry, Makoto. We’ve already proven that the Pacification Program can be used to stop the Killing Game, right? If things turn dire again, we’ll just have to use it again.”

Makoto paused, his eyes growing wide. “Again? Celeste, please remember what just happened!”

“I do. You stopped Nagito from starting the Killing Game. Did anything else more important than that happen that I missed?” Celeste asked kindly, though…

Makoto recognized that tone of voice. He played with Celeste often enough to do so.

She wouldn’t ask the question if she didn’t already know the answer.

And- Makoto knew it too.

Every. Time. He would choose the Program over the Killing Game every time.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, before blinking as he felt Celeste’s hands clasp his in his lap.

“Makoto. You did good. You stopped Nagito, and probably saved her life.” Celeste said softly, her accent nowhere to be heard.

“You did good, Makoto. You did the right thing.” She repeated, and Makoto felt himself nodding after a moment.

“Y-Yeah…” He had to believe he had. No, he did believe he had.

As for Nagito…

Makoto would have to make sure he apologized to her properly once she woke up.

But, until then… Well, he was still quite busy.

Makoto turned back toward the monitors depicting the Neo World Program’s camera feeds.

It was- strange, watching who he intellectually knew was the Ultimate Impostor, even though his eyes wouldn’t allow him to think of him as anyone other than Byakuya Togami.

Though, Byakuya had never been so keen to claim responsibility for the whole group. Especially not their safety, so in that manner, Makoto could see through the Impostor’s disguise.

“Finally.” His tinny voice came through the speaker as Nagito entered the hotel. “Please make sure to not waste my time thusly in the future.”

Makoto couldn’t help but blush a little bit as he watched Nagito through the monitor. The- girl, he supposed, still had hints of a blush on her face, and though her makeup was impeccable, well-

It did little to chase out the memory Makoto had of her ecstasy-filled expression as she fingered herself desperately in her own room.

Both he and Celeste had been simply stunned by the scene, and neither of them had moved for several minutes as they stared at the new girl, begging for her master’s touch…

Celeste’s blush had been so bright it had actually brought color to her pale cheeks, and her eyes had seemed almost like crosshairs as she stared at him when he finally got enough of a hold of himself to toggle the main monitor away from that camera, switching it for another, which thankfully got rid of the audio. Thankfully, it seemed like she didn’t resent him making her witness that at least.

And, well. It was hard to think of Nagito as a guy after watching her cum her brains out, a brainless smile on her lips as she soaked her bedsheets.

Makoto blushed, shifting in his seat as he tried to focus on the screen in front of him, and not on the tightness of his pants.

Nagito only rolled her eyes before taking a seat, her legs crossing as she shot Hajime a glare, for some reason.

“I was busy with actually important stuff. So, say your piece so I can go back to actually doing that~” Nagito smiled as she finished, her eyes seeming to go a bit hazy as she, presumably, focused on, uh, what she would rather be doing.

Celeste giggled in her seat beside her. “She probably can’t be trusted to do anything other than cum her brains out, honestly. Good for her~” She purred, and Makoto winced.

Yeesh. Did Celeste have something against the lucky student?

The Impostor sighed, before crossing his arms. “Well, now that everyone is here, I suppose it is time for me to say my piece.”

Makoto couldn’t deny his nervosity here. They’d stopped Nagito, but would the Impostor… No, no, no, Makoto refused to believe it! He’d been such a good leader for the others thus far- but what if Nagito’s notes made him do something, thoughtlessly?

Makoto’s eyes drifted toward his second monitor, before he shook his head.

No, he wouldn’t have to use the Pacification Program. Everything would be fine. Right?

“Rejoice! I have decided that we will have a party tonight!”

“Huh?” Makoto said, surprised, echoed by multiple students on the monitor.

“I see,” Celeste said, attracting his attention. “He is trying to counteract Nagito’s note by keeping an eye on everyone.”

“Ah! This party’s just an excuse then, right?” Makoto had been surprised to hear the Impostor do something so frivolous, but that made more sense. “He’s trying to hide the note from the others, so there won’t be a panic, while still trying to stop the killing from happening, huh?”

“He almost reminds me of you.”

“Of me?”

“Yes, trying his best to protect others and draw them together. If he had half of your charisma, he would make for a compelling leader to the other students.”

Makoto chuckled. “He seems to be doing a fine enough job as far as I can see.” And indeed he was. Under his strict supervision, roles were assigned to students as they prepared for the party that would be happening tonight, in the abandoned building next door.

Sonia eagerly volunteered to clean, though several other students saw reason and decided to go with her, since the princess clearly had more enthusiasm than know-how.

Teruteru was eager to put his talent to work in the kitchen, and Peko went off to find Fuyuhiko and keep him abreast of the happenings.

Nagito wasn’t even considered for any role. Instead, the rest of the group seemed to know exactly what to expect of her. That is, that she would simply ignore their instructions and return to her cabin as soon as possible for, obvious reasons.

Makoto hummed for a moment. “Nobody’s said anything yet. They all seem to think Nagito was always as she is now. He is.” Makoto corrected himself, though judging from Celeste’s giggle, he hadn’t been very convincing.

“Nagito herself seems completely unperturbed by this change, as do Monokuma and Monomi. Is that a feature of the Pacification Program?” She asked instead, putting a finger to her chin.

“It might be. Wouldn’t do much Pacifying if it sent everyone into a panic, would it?”

Celeste nodded her head silently, watching as the group dispersed. The Impostor himself busily began making additional preparations for the party, mostly security concerns.

He really seemed like a good leader…

“Speaking of the Pacification Program,” Celeste said, making Makoto blink. “Why did it turn Nagito into a girl?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, you didn’t make it do so?”

“Of course not!” Makoto replied, a blush reddening his cheeks, making Celeste smirk.

“I didn’t think so. But clearly, something must’ve.”

Makoto nodded slowly, thinking. He opened up the .txt file attached to the program to read through it again, carefully. He blinked when Celeste’s hand landed on his left shoulder, and blushed when she rested her head on his right, her pale face appearing in the corner of his vision, her drill twintail pressing against his back.

For a moment, Makoto froze as the strong scent of roses filled his nose, backed by the bittersweet aroma of tea, making his heart pound in his chest. His body felt hyper aware of her presence as she read over his shoulder, and he found that the words were bleeding into one another in front of his eyes as he failed to focus on them.

Instead, all of his attention was stolen by the soft breathing he could hear in his ear, by the light pressure of her delicate fingers on his shoulder, by the heat he could feel just an inch away from his back-

“Here.” Celeste said, a perfectly manicured nail tapping on the screen and making Makoto jump.

“Wh-What?”

“This part here.” Celeste repeated, before reading out loud. “‘From there it will attempt to alter the base coding of the target into something more useful for the system moderator.’”

Makoto blinked. “Yeah? How does that explain what happened to Nagito? Are you saying changing him into a girl made him- more useful?”

Celeste’s head turned for a moment, and suddenly, Makoto realized just how close her face was to him, as she hadn’t backed a single inch from her perch.

Her eyes seemed like incredibly large rubies as she spoke, her breath gliding across Makoto’s skin.

“This Program probably does consider girls more useful to you, Makoto. After all, you are a man.” She said, and somehow, impossibly, seemed to inch even closer to him, until her lips brushed his as she spoke.

“I’m sure you can imagine many uses for a female body…” She whispered, and Makoto could only stare, wide-eyed, back into Celeste’s heated gaze, where he could see a spark of- something dancing within them.

Not humor, or satisfaction. Something more- primal, perhaps.

Numbly, Makoto nodded, and Celeste smirked for a moment.

“Good~” She said, before standing back up and stretching, leaving Makoto to stare shell-shocked into her chest as she arched in front of him. “I need a moment. I’ll be back once I’ve fetched myself something to drink.”

Thusly, Celeste walked away from the operations room, toward her personal lodgings, leaving Makoto to stare after her for a moment, a singular word bouncing around in his mind as he did.

“Good?” He repeated to himself, stunned, and torn between disbelief, confusion- and- well, something he thought should remain unnamed.

Instead, he turned back toward the monitors, only to blush when his eyes immediately landed on a masturbating Nagito once more.

“Gonna have to look out for that…” Makoto said, pretending that the new spectacle was actually responsible for his present arousal.

He quickly shifted his vision to another camera, jumping around from each monitor until he found two unoccupied students. Akane and Nekomaru, and he switched their feed over to the main monitor, letting the audio from that feed come through.

Just in time for the sound of wood cracking to make him jump, his finger slipping off the key as he watched Akane fly into a tree, breaking it in half as she cried out in pain.

Makoto’s jaw fell open for a moment, and he almost jumped to his second monitor, only to notice how Akane was smiling.

“You going soft on me, Coach?” She called, completely ignoring the way blood was dribbling down her forehead from a cut, making Makoto wince.

“Soft?” Nekomaru’s booming voice said. “Of course! I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again- You lack discipline! You are wasting your potential! Even a mere Team Manager like me can easily take you down!”

Akane’s face twisted in irritation, and immediately charged again at speed Makoto might've called superhuman before he met Sakura.

Now, he could only agree with Nekomaru.

Akane was all instinct and violence, without even a hint of technique, unlike Nekomaru’s practiced form as he manhandled her and threw her to the ground once more in a great cloud of sand.

The girl coughed as she tried to stand up again, only for her limbs to fail her. “D-Damnit…”

Nekomaru laughed uproariously. “What did I tell you!? You charge in, again and again, without a single thought! Of course you’re going to stay weak!”

Makoto stared at Nekomaru’s tall silhouette, a whisper of something in his gut.

The team manager- was lying, he was pretty sure… But why?

Akane growled something incomprehensible, before finally making it up to her feet, though she was swaying in place.

“Next time-”

“You’ll lose again, until you learn how to properly use that body of yours. Now, go see Mikan, she’ll patch you up.” Nekomaru said, ignoring the way Akane stomped her way past him.

Makoto didn’t follow her, instead watching Nekomaru as he stood still, staring out into the sea.

Until he collapsed to one knee, groaning, a hand against his chest.

Makoto almost jumped out of his seat at the sight, only to freeze again as Nekomaru laughed lightly, weakly.

“Damn. My weak body really isn’t fit to be an athlete, huh?” He said softly, before rising back up to his feet carefully, as if a single gust of wind could knock him back down.

“But I would be a failure of a Team Manager if I didn’t pound some sense into that girl before she goes and gets herself killed fighting a Monobeast, or Monokuma himself.”

Nekomaru’s words floated on the wind for a moment, the moment almost fragile as the team manager panted heavily, before he straightened his back again with gusto.

“I!” He screamed, almost blowing the speakers off the monitor Makoto was using. “AM NEKOMARU NIDAI! ULTIMATE TEAM MANAGER!” He yelled, his whole body tense, as if he was using every muscle in his body to scream the words.

“AND NOTHING WILL STOP ME FROM TRAINING MY ATHLETES! NOT EVEN DEATH!”

For a few moments, silence reigned in the operations room as Makoto stared at the heavily breathing Nekomaru for a few moments longer, before the team manager began leaving the beach, his declaration having apparently helped him recover.

Makoto was still staring into the empty monitor, his mind running a mile a minute.

He- hadn’t been expecting that at all. He’d gotten used to incredible level of hand-to-hand combat, though he was patently not a fighter at all, especially compared to the likes of Sakura or the Great Gozu, the former Ultimate Wrestler.

But still, there was a level of- not professionalism in their fights, but…

Celeste’s voice drifted in his ear. ‘Savoir-faire’, yes.

Those two knew what they were doing, and were able to fight seriously without risking either of their lives.

Nothing like Nekomaru and Akane.

No, even though Nekomaru had a better handle on fighting, he was also weaker than Akane, and couldn’t afford to hold back at all, no matter what he told her.

Akane, on the other hand, was like a wild animal. Dangerous.

Both to herself, and others.

Akane had already said several times that she would fight Monokuma given the opportunity, but Makoto hadn’t realized how real the possibility was until he saw her fight.

Thankfully, Nekomaru seemed to have a handle on her, and was able to direct her energy toward safer outlets, but…

Makoto couldn’t help but wonder, for how long?

How long until Nekomaru was simply no longer able to keep up? Be it because of Akane improving or his own body failing him?

And even if he could manage to keep up, maybe with Mikan’s help- How long until Akane ran into Monokuma in the middle of the night, and let herself be goaded into a fight.

The thought sent a shiver down Makoto’s spine.

He’d seen Sakura and Monokuma fight, and that had been a robot constrained by physics. Not a nigh-omnipotent virus.

If the two fought, not only would Akane lose, but…

She would be executed.

Makoto could almost feel the crash of the compactor through his bones as he clutched the desk in front of him.

He- He couldn’t let that happen to someone else.

But he also couldn’t stop it.

Not unless he used the Pacification Program again, but…

The thought of it made his stomach twist with guilt. He- no, he hadn’t made a mistake with Nagito, but- He hadn’t known what the Pacification Program would do.

Now he did.

It might save Akane’s life, in exchange for- everything else.

And it was a ‘might’. Akane might grow under Nekomaru’s tutelage, or change her mind, or maybe whatever Usami did to Monokuma would stop the Killing Game before it ever started.

Maybe. But was Makoto willing to bet on a ‘maybe’? He couldn’t watch everything that happened on the island- Not realistically. Akane just might slip through his fingers and get herself hurt, or even killed without him ever knowing. Or maybe he would notice too late- The Pacification Program did seem to take a bit to work, if what it had done to Nagito was any indication.

It was not a quick thing, to Pacify someone. And if Makoto waited, he might miss his chance to target Akane altogether.

Makoto worried his lip as he thought. What would he regret more? Pacifying Akane uselessly, or letting her die?

Just the thought made his blood run cold.

No, he could never live with himself if he let Akane die. But could he live with Pacifying her, even if it didn’t end up saving her life? Was he fine changing her like he did Nagito, on the off-chance that it would save her?

Makoto’s head fell in his hands as he sighed. His thoughts were going around in circles uselessly.

“Makoto? Is everything alright?” Celeste said as she reentered the room, making him jump.

His mouth opened, a reassurance behind his tongue, only for his body to sag.

“I- think I need your help, Celeste.” He said instead, and the gambler’s smile at his words helped soothe his heart, if only a little.

“Well, I suppose I could lend a helping hand if you’re so desperate~” Celeste teased, making Makoto chuckle weakly at her joke, though his mood quickly turned.

Celeste seemed to realize it as well, and took her seat back, an eyebrow raised. “I only stepped out for a few minutes. What happened?” She asked seriously, making Makoto grimace.

Had it really only been such a short time? Makoto felt like he’d been struggling for a solution for an hour.

He looked at the monitor in front of him, still showing the empty beach and the broken tree, staring for a moment, chewing on his next words. Thankfully, Celeste let him do so, waiting for him to speak up again.

“I’m- thinking about using the Pacification Program again.” Makoto said, and it was like he’d opened the floodgates. His words almost fell out of him faster than he could speak them as he told Celeste about the fight, Nekomaru’s struggle, Akane’s wildness. His thoughts, his fears, his worries.

By the time the flow dried, Celeste’s cup of tea had gone cold between her hands, and Makoto almost felt deflated.

The gambler hummed for a moment, hiding her mouth behind her cup, though she grimaced ever-so-slightly at the beverage’s lost prime.

“I believe you’re overthinking it. Your hesitation stems from what happened with Nagito, correct?”

Makoto nodded hesitantly. “Well, yeah, but… I just don’t know if the risks are worth-”

Celeste cut him off, her voice somehow both soft and as steel. “Once more, overthinking it. We agreed that what happened with Nagito was better than the alternative, did we not?”

Makoto licked his dry lips. “Yeah, I…I guess we did?”

“Then why does that same logic not follow now? It’s merely the same situation but from the perspective of the victim.”

“I don’t really think what Nagito was planning and this-”

“Both would end in the same outcome, albeit one less loss of life. You know as well as I that picking a fight with Monokuma would lead to death.”

Makoto didn’t bother answering. They’d both had front row seats to Mondo nearly losing his arm in that explosion.

“So if you are so worried that Akane will act the fool and put herself at risk, what makes that so different from the risk of Nagito’s life?” Celeste’s words had a way of pulling the rug out from under Makoto’s feet. What seemed like incredibly complex situations were being calmly broken down and divided, ordered and presented.

But still, “I didn’t know what the Program did then.”

“Would you still use it now, even knowing the outcome? Would you still save his life?”

“Of course.” His response came without hesitation.

“So then, I believe we can agree Akane needs someone to save hers, lest she get herself killed and start the game anyways.”

“I don’t even know if she’d really do something like that!” Makoto protested, though Celeste didn’t waver.

“Is it worth the risk? Should we have blind faith that someone will always be able to talk her down from her ideas of grandeur?”

“I just don’t want to-”

“Makoto,” Celeste cut him off once more, and again, Makoto’s protests were brushed past skillfully. “You know I’m correct. You agree with me on every point I’ve raised. Clearly, none of what was raised thus far is your real issue. Tell me why you are against this, and if you do not know, reflect on it.”

Makoto paused for a moment, his train of thought cut off unexpectedly at the change of track.

She was right. This situation, saving Akane… It was the same choice he’d made before. So why? Why was he struggling to find a reason to save her? Why was he holding back when the opportunity was right in front of him?

No matter how much he twisted the situation around in his mind, he agreed with Celeste, and more importantly, with himself. This was the right thing to do.

But- Was it for the right reasons?

Unbidden, his eyes turned toward the monitors, tracking the various students as they went about their day.

The Impostor was scouting the outside of the abandoned building, carefully testing every point of entry.

Sonia and the others were cleaning as best they could with Teruteru flitting in and about to set up the kitchen for the night.

And Nagito was ruining her bed, screaming her orgasm silently, though Makoto could easily read the words on her lips.

‘Master’.

He gulped, staring at the picture. The words Celeste had pointed out in the instructions were still clear in his mind.

‘Alter the base coding into something more useful to the user.’

In other words, the Pacification Program must’ve made him Nagito’s master.

The thought made something pool in his stomach.

It was guilt. At least, in part.

He wished it was in its entirety. He wished he could look at that screen, and only feel guilt for his terrible mistake, and none of the anticipation, excitement, and arousal he felt at the sight.

But he didn’t. He really didn’t.

“I-” Makoto started, only for his words to flee him immediately.

His lack of a response must have truly gained her attention, as her eyes which at first had been watching him, traced his line of sight to the monitor he’d been unable to look away from.

“Oh?” It was a simple word, phrased as a question before she pressed on, “It frightens you to admit that the consequences don’t feel quite as wrong as you’d like.”

Makoto’s eyes widened, before he raised his hands in front of his chest, trying to deny the accusation. “No…that’s not-”

“Isn’t it? You may not want to admit it, but some part of you is more than just alright with what happened. Somewhere inside you’ve realized that you aren’t put off by what Nagito became.” Celeste pushed, her red eyes drilling into Makoto.

“I…I don’t enjoy this, you’re-”

Celeste raised her tea cup to her lips again, though she didn’t drink from it this time, only using it to hide her smile. “You shouldn’t lie to yourself dear, you and I share a mind that Nagito is much better like this~”

“Why are you so okay with this?” Makoto finally pushed back, feeling something akin to panic running up his back.

“Let’s weigh the options, shall we? The Nagito before, one with a rather demented view of hope, willing to take a life? Or the Nagito we have now, one who’s only focus is bringing herself to climax and is only willing to follow her master’s orders?”

Makoto found his words struggling to come out more and more as Celeste spoke. “I-”

“I don’t see much of a contest, and judging by the way your eyes are acting, this is a sight some part of you is willing to admit it prefers.” Makoto’s eyes snapped back to Celeste from where they had begun drifting toward a particular monitor, wide brown meeting amused red.

“It’s wrong.” It was a weak argument, and both of them knew it, a feeble attempt to convince either of them he wasn’t seriously considering her words.

“It’s not wrong to enjoy this, you just wish it to be. You’re focusing so much on your own rigid set of rules that you aren’t basking in the full outcome.” Celeste calmly said, making Makoto hesitate.

And when he didn’t answer, she answered for him. “Yes, it may not be the original expectation, but it’s not a crime to enjoy yourself. You’ve saved a life, you can save another, this is a gift for your efforts.”

“I just…” Makoto’s own words sounded weak to his ears as he tried to justify himself for- for what exactly?

“Let go, just this once, let yourself enjoy this, it’s only to save her.” Celeste said, smiling reassuringly, and Makoto felt himself wilt.

“But…” He tried, he really did, to come up with a reason she was wrong. His mind kept coming up blank, and even when anything started to form, his eyes caught Nagito’s monitor and immediately they would return to silence.

Was Celeste right? Was it really okay to not worry so much? Nagito did seem to be much happier like this, and she was safe from Monokuma.

Was it fine if he let go and enjoyed this? If he took pleasure in the act, did that make the act wrong, somehow? Did it negate the good it did in saving their lives, to enjoy the side effects that came with it?

Makoto’s eyes drifted to Nagito’s monitor once more, watching her.

It was impossible to deny the truth, some part of him had already found enjoyment in this outcome. Both in saving a life, and Nagito’s newfound devotion. If it was to save a life, he’d do it a thousand times over, and nothing in his head nor in his heart could find an argument against that.

So then why? Why was he still so unsure if he was doing this for the right reasons? His earlier conversations with Celeste played on loop in his mind. Was there truly harm being done, enjoying this when it meant saving a life too?

One last time his eyes flicked back to Nagito, screaming silently in bliss, and his resolve hardened. She was different now, that much was true, but there was more to it than that. She was safe, free from her possible fate, and she was enjoying every moment of it.

So why couldn’t he? He’d done what was right, stopped a murder. It wasn’t harming anyone to enjoy the outcome, was it?

No, it wasn’t. Like Celeste had said before, he’d acted the savior, he’d done that for so long. It wasn’t wrong to enjoy himself too, not when it meant saving others, especially not then.

Makoto nodded to himself, slowly, and then more solidly.

“Yeah. You’re right, Celeste. Thanks.” He said, smiling at the gambler, who returned it with one of her own.

“You are quite welcome, dear,” She said, her eyes almost shining. “It’s always a pleasure to talk these things through with you. Especially when it allows you to realize you truly can help the Remnants better themselves.”

Something is the way she spoke, and the way her eyes bore into his made him shift uncomfortably in his seat, though it did nothing to get rid of his relieved smile. It also didn’t change the fact she was correct. He could help them, it was his responsibility. He pushed the lingering concern from earlier to the side, and opened the program once more.

It would never be wrong to save a life. He had to believe that. He did believe that. And if any backlash like with Nagito did arise? He would be responsible for that too.

For better or for worse.

#danganronpa18 #makoto naegi18 #thelewdpokemanik

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densesindealer · 10 months ago

Text

Neo World: Pacification Project, Chapter Two

Hello again! @thelewdpokemanik and I are back, more than pleased, to bring you another part of our story! We've really been having fun writing this and I hope we can keep our updates pretty evenly spaced.

As always you can still find this story on AO3 here.

So without further ado, we hope you all enjoy!

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Chapter Two: Devoted to Hope

This entire situation felt almost unreal, though bizarre as it was, it still wasn’t unbelievable for someone like him, unlike for his classmates. His life had been anything but ordinary. He could keep his calm in these kinds of situations. His classmates, on the other hand, yelled and fought, proclaiming their disbelief one moment and their despair the next. Afraid, angry, resigned…hopeless. All of it disgusted him, in truth. That damnable two-toned bear, his plan to have them all kill each other- It was repulsive. It wasn’t fostering hope, only a twisted malediction, Monokuma’s mad craving of despair.

Even though the black and white bear had managed to defeat their supposed protector, their field trip advisor, he still backed away after their encounter, letting the students stew in his words about their new lives. Though Nagito noted that the bear seemed to be backing down oddly, as though something about his encounter with Usami caused him to retreat even in supposed victory.

The yelling of his fellow classmates grew tiring, and he tuned most of them out. Their hopelessness made his skin crawl, but he supposed he understood. He didn’t quite ignore all of them though. Byakuya was the stand out, the exception. He took the time to space out his thoughts before he spoke, and when he did, his words carried weight.

It was a rousing speech if he was being honest, one above what Nagito expected when looking upon the faces of his classmates.

The affluent progeny preached of trust first and foremost, coming together because not doing so would be giving Monokuma exactly what he wanted. The bear sought to make them uneasy, distrusting, prime candidates to fall into the trap of committing a murder.

He wanted them to despair.

What truly stood out to him about Byakuya’s speech was what his mind usually focused itself on. The underlying sentiment of something greater, something to be cherished.

Hope.

It made him giddy to even think about. However small the flame may burn within the others, someone else besides himself knew the wonders hope could bring them. At the very least, he knew when it was needed, though if you asked Nagito, he would always say it was a necessity.

The rest of his speech barely landed on his ears, not that it truly needed to, just one small word, one small theme and his brain was running with it. Of course this was what was needed. Hope. It’s what this must have been made for, this killing game, this design for despair.

It was all made for one purpose, to bring out hope from the depths of despair.

He needed to thank Byakuya at some point, if not for him his thoughts would be amiss. He wouldn’t know how he could bring his classmates hope. Now? Well, now it was as simple as it could possibly be, just waiting for a golden opportunity. Oh yes, this would all be perfect. They’d all know of Hope and they’d understand his love for that glorious feeling.

Even if they needed to overcome immense despair to get there.

He was so lost in his own thoughts, he barely noticed when the others began to break away. The lucky student didn’t contribute to their conversations about the possibility of one of them being responsible for this. It didn’t matter who did it, they would deserve his thanks too, for an opportunity to show so many people, his betters in all ways that mattered, the joys of his beloved hope. That would be better than anything he could have ever dreamed of.

The chance to show those who were so much more deserving of their talents, of their ultimate titles what true hope felt like? The thought made him giddy. He couldn’t help himself, even if he’d wanted to. A small chuckle escaped his lips.

“Uh… You doing okay there?” Hajime stood in front of him, a wide-eyed look on his plain face.

Ah, the boy was nervous around him. He must have made for quite the sight.

“I’m fine, it’s just a lot to take in.” It wasn’t truly a lie. It was a lot to take in, this chance he had. One he intended to make the most of.

“Yeah, to think this would happen… It’s just… It doesn’t make any sense.” Hajime seemed more at ease speaking to him, strange for the quick suspicion from not even a minute before.

Nagito didn’t really care. Of all the students here, Hajime was the one he favored the least. He didn’t know his own talent, and Nagito would have doubted he had one if not for his admission into Hope’s Peak Academy. Still he supposed he was an Ultimate, so perhaps it was too harsh an assessment when compared to himself.

Hajime may not have remembered his talent, but whatever it was, it surely couldn’t have made the boy as useless as his own.

“Do… Do you think someone might really consider murder?” His concern was still evident, seeking comfort from the same person who’d been his crutch since they’d first arrived here.

“Of course not! You need to have faith in your classmates, Hajime!” Nagito answered quickly, the words rolling off his tongue with ease.

That was a particularly cruel lie, he supposed, but it was in that cruelty that he would hopefully find the strength to grow, and prove he was worthy of his title of Ultimate.

The boy wouldn’t understand if Nagito told him the truth anyway. There was no doubt someone was planning a murder. Hajime just so happened to be talking to them. The when, why and who still remained a mystery, even to him, but he knew it would come to him in time. After all, luck was on his side, as it always had been.

With Hajime reasonably cowed, his questions ceased, and thankfully he left to find the others. Ah, Nagito was alone now, well properly alone anyways. The Ultimates must have all spread out while he had been preoccupied.

That was good. It gave him time to think, to plan, to look around. He did need a foundation for a murder if he wanted any chance of showing them the treasure that was hope.

He wandered around the first island, the only one they had access to. The others were guarded by those threatening machines Monokuma called monobeasts. His options were rather limited by that, but it wasn’t necessarily a problem. He would simply have to use this adversity to help him come up with an even more despondent murder.

The lucky student was careful to avoid any prolonged interactions with many of the other students. They had better people to spend their time on than wasting it on him. That didn’t mean he didn’t keep an eye on them, however. It was important to learn enough about them to foster their hope as much as he could whilst he was around.

Not to mention he needed a target, someone that provided less than everyone else. The runt of the litter that would help the others grow stronger.

The Rocketpunch Market was filled to the brim with mostly useless items, a disappointment to be sure, but not a problem nonetheless. He needed tact, a mystery to his crime, the items in the supermarket would be more fit for a hands-on approach. How could they overcome their despair if the answer was right in front of them? There wouldn’t be a journey, no obstacles to overcome. That was where hope flourished, in the face of overwhelming odds. When no avenues seemed to lead to an answer, when the night seemed the darkest, only then would hope shine through!

He wondered idly if Monokuma already knew what he was planning, if he was watching him, thinking he’d already fallen into despair.

If he was, he’d sorely misunderstood the lucky student’s intent.

The next few locations he visited were somehow even less useful than the supermarket. The airport was empty of anything other than planes missing their engines, the ranch devoid of anything other than Gundham and the animals he had apparently taken a quick liking to.

At least the beach had something that caught his attention. Shaped like a coconut tree in its concept, but it was far from it. It was called the MonoMono Machine, clearly a machine full of prize capsules, with a slot for coins. It intrigued him, especially given his talent, but lacking anything to use with the machine it was merely something of interest to note.

“Well that’s not beary fair!” Monokuma cried out, jumping out from wherever it had been hiding, and already Nagito wished for this interaction to end.

“What do you want?” He could never sound this irritated with an Ultimate, but this monster focused on despair- It was everything Nagito hated in one bear-shaped package.

“Oh, only what any other bear would want. Violent deaths, supreme chaos, the loving embrace of sweet, sweet despair~” The bear’s voice was as sickeningly sweet as his first appearance only a few hours ago, but something seemed strange. A slight twitching of his ears, a dimming of his mechanical eye as he spoke that seemed almost involuntary. Was he malfunctioning?

“Though right now, I’m here to help! Be grateful for your teacher’s kindness, you brat!” Even with an offer of supposed aid, his voice still made Nagito’s insides twist in disgust.

Before he could even utter a word, Monokuma thrust out one of his paws, a handful of copper coins resting upon it.

“These, my dearest- well, not quite- lucky student, are Monocoins!”

“For the prize machine, then?” Nagito barely wished to speak more than he had to, at least not with this two-toned monstrosity.

“Not just any prize machine! It's the MonoMono Machine!” Monokuma insisted, making Nagito grimace, before carefully reaching out, and plucking the coins out of the bear’s hand.

Without a second thought, he wiped his hands on his pants, to cleanse them of any of the filth that may have tarnished them from Monokuma’s despair-laden paws.

Nagito held up a coin to his eye, turning it so it could catch the bright light of the moon, revealing the engraved visage of the despairful bear upon it. Truly hopeless. “So…”

“Soooooo, it’s the most amazing machine anyone could ever dream of! All you need to do is put in a few Monocoins, and anything you could ever hope for may be waiting for you in one of those pods!”

Nagito blinked despite himself. “Anything?”

“Yep, correctamundo! You hit the nail on the head! Anything at all!”

“Even-”

“Yes, even a way off this island, a one-way ticket to your own freedom!” Monokuma answered eagerly, completely missing what Nagito was actually about to ask, though from the eager glint in his mechanical eye…

Maybe the Mono-Mono Machine could actually give him something to help him plan a murder, and Monokuma understood more than he let on.

It didn’t matter, in truth. No matter what Monokuma thought, wanted, or planned.

Hope would win out in the end. Nagito was certain of it.

“I see.” He finally settled on, making Monokuma stomp his foot childishly.

“‘I see’? That’s it!? I give you a beary generous donation, a chance of escape and the only response I get is an ‘I see?’ You ungrateful little-”

Whatever tirade Monokuma decided to go on afterward fell on deaf ears, being tuned out in favor of not having to listen to him drone on. Instead, the lucky student shifted his attention to the MonoMono Machine. Even though he loathed accepting help from such a despair-fueled creature, Nagito deposited the few coins Monokuma had given him in the slot and spun the handle.

The machine lit up, and began playing obnoxiously loud music. It was far too much if you asked him. The lights were too bright, too garish and the music was almost as grating as Monokuma’s voice, which was fitting given it was named after him. A, thankfully, short few seconds passed before the slot at the bottom of the tree opened and out came a capsule. Then a second came soon after, he must have been luc- a third followed suit, and perhaps it only took a single coin to-

“Wowie! That’s super duper ultra mega rare right there! That’s the big jackpot, three prize pods for the price of one is the biggest prize you can get!” Monokuma was almost standing on top of him, his words reverberating in his ear. It was his luck then. Though, if it meant Monokuma getting so up-close and personal, perhaps it was bad luck rather than good.

Not that he should have been surprised. While he liked to think hope defined him well, his luck was a constant presence in his life too.

Once more ignoring the bear, much to its chagrin, he popped open a capsule, which made a surprisingly satisfying sound. Probably not enough to justify sitting through that light show again, but still-

Oh? “A can of glowing paint?” Nagito said out loud, pleasantly surprised. This was surprisingly practical. His earlier thought came back to him as he read the information on the metallic can. A ray of hope shining through the night, hm?

Well, if the first capsule was a success, he might as well check the other two. Two more pleasant pops, and two more capsules were opened, which contained a notebook and a pen respectively. Again, surprisingly practical. He flipped the notebook open, testing out the pen on the inside for a moment, and watched as it wrote neatly a few words, before pausing.

Nagito looked around him for a moment, dreading having to speak with it, but he needed at least some form of an answer to his question.

“How exactly, would one get more coins for this?” Monokuma gave him a devilish grin in response. Hm, odd to be able to use that word to describe the smile of a plushie-like bear.

“Upupupu, piqued your interest, did I? Well, it’s quite simple really, just bear with me here! They’re all over this place, I hid ‘em all over when all of you were busy with Monomi’s trashy romance plot!” A simple question, answered in such a drawn out manner… He was beginning to hate Monokuma for more than just his love of despair.

He hummed for a moment, contemplating his next choices, before deciding this was enough time with the monochrome animatronic. He looked over his shoulder, back toward Hotel Mirai, debating his options.

Well, he hadn’t gotten this far by ignoring his luck, had he? Maybe he could come back to the machine if need be. He just needed to find some of those coins laying about to use it again. Even if that meant dealing with the migraine-inducing lightshow and that god-awful racket that was supposed to pass as music.

For now, however, Nagito began making his way back to the Hotel, some basis of a plan forming in his mind, but it was still a work in progress. At least for now, he could grab something quick to fuel himself, and work out the other details as he ate in the safety of his room.

But, before he could reach his cottage, after passing a rather excitable Teruteru in the kitchen and Chiaki focused intensely on whatever game she was playing in the hotel lobby, his eye caught on something. A rather innocuous building. It wasn’t being used, and he remembered Monomi warding Hajime and himself away because it was in a state of disrepair. Maybe… Another piece of the puzzle was slowly coming together in his mind.

If he’d been warned away, it was likely everyone else had been as well. If he was lucky, nobody would think to walk into the old hotel building, and he’d be entirely free from prying eyes. If push came to shove, he would simply be able to say he was exploring the building because Monomi had made it seem so suspicious.

Glancing around as quickly as he could while staying discreet, he cracked open the door of the building and slipped inside, certain nobody was around to see him. Well, Monomi certainly had been correct about the building being dirty. The ground was covered in a thick layer of dust, and the ceilings were littered in cobwebs. Why have the building here in the first place if they would just let it wither away like this?

He let out a breath, noticing how even the air felt heavy to take in, but as he continued to trek onward and explore, a gracious smile crossed his face. He was thankful Monomi had seen fit to ward anyone who thought of entering this building away. It made his plan nearly perfect.

A location where nobody would have had the time to learn the layout? The warning itself was a decent safeguard now that everybody was on edge thanks to Monokuma’s announcement of this killing game. Of course, he had luck on his side. Maybe a few more trips to the MonoMono Machine once he’d managed to scrounge up what coins he could find and he would be all set to achieve his goal.

Though it may have been a bit too early for that.

Nagito knew he could always lure someone here to act as his stepping stone towards a larger goal and strike away from everyone else, but that would hardly do. He needed something bigger, something better. In the darkness of the old hotel, inspiration struck. What he needed was a party, or at the very least, the perception of one.

He already knew who would be trusted enough to be able to gather his classmates for him, and he’d already shown he sought to protect everyone else. Byakuya couldn’t be his target, but he would certainly be a great deal of help in bringing one to him. It was finally connecting, what needed to be done, and in the silence of the rundown halls, he let himself laugh. The path forward seemed so clear! This was exactly what he had to do.

Not for himself, but for his classmates, for their hope. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Walking away from Byakuya’s bungalow in the early hours of the morning, before anyone was liable to wake up, Nagito felt his plan was rather exceptional. The letter had been a nice touch, his luck from that garish machine paying off. Truthfully, his plan relied on quite a large amount of luck, though relying on that had never been a weak point of his.

There wasn’t much else he could do at the moment. The first dominoes were in place, and the rest couldn’t come until much later. Thus, he settled on the most logical option, creating a backup plan, just in case he had miscalculated in his initial approach. While the letter should work well enough to cause Byakuya to gather the rest of their class, there was no real guarantee anybody would care to listen. That would bring a whole host of problems to his initial plan if it occurred, so it was better to be safe than sorry.

He pat his pockets idly, just to make sure he hadn’t managed to misplace them. Monocoins. He’d found quite a large amount of them over the course of the night, so many that he doubted anybody else cared to look for them. Not that it mattered, it was actually quite fortunate that nobody would want to use the machine. It gave him better odds to find something that could prove useful.

Nagito opted to move silently, or at least as quietly as one could with an exorbitant amount of change bouncing around in their pockets. He didn’t particularly fear waking anyone, but should anyone else be up and about, he certainly wouldn’t want to gain their attention. He strolled down to the beach, and, having failed to run into anyone, it was likely they were all still fast asleep. Like this, he didn’t have to worry about the sounds of the MonoMono Machine attracting any attention.

He fished around in his pockets for a few moments, trying to take a few coins in hand, enough to spin the machine a few times. Had it always looked like this? It seemed, well, different, for lack of a better word. He reasoned that it was the work of the early morning light making it appear taller than before. It was unlikely that Monokuma would bother with changing the height of the machine when it didn’t serve any functional purpose, other than perhaps making whoever used it feel small and insignificant.

Well, now that he thought about it, that did seem to be a very Monokuma-esque thing to do.

Regardless of his thoughts on the matter, the machine seemed just as harmless as it had been the previous day. He could say he was hoping he would get lucky with his capsules, but when had he ever been anything but lucky? A few coins went into the slot, and he braced himself for what was undoubtedly the worst-

What?

Did…did it always sound like this? Those lights weren’t the same either, right? Was it Monokuma’s lingering presence that had made them so unbearable the last time he had used it?

He had no reasonable explanation for what was happening, Monokuma wouldn’t have changed all of this just because one person was put off by it. That didn’t even fit the despair-hungry bear’s entire motivation. That only left him begging the question of why, how it had changed, it was…almost pleasant now.

The lights, instead of being a garish mix of black, white and red, were now a significantly milder tone. Shades of pink were littered about in the lights, with the occasional contrast of a baby blue light to break up its monotony. He wouldn’t say it was the most gorgeous appearance the MonoMono Machine could have, but it was certainly an improvement from what it had been.

The music itself was surprisingly toned down as well, not nearly as loud, and certainly not as mind-numbing. Softer than expected, yet somehow it complimented the lights well enough that he couldn’t say he minded. At least his trip here wouldn’t be excruciating. This wasn’t a change the lucky student had expected, but it was certainly not unwelcome.

He was so focused on the changes to the machine he hardly noticed when his prize capsule fell from the slot, only catching on when the music stopped and the lights went out.

It wasn’t that important to wonder why it changed, he had a larger goal here.

Nagito swiftly reached out, grasping the capsule in his hands. He already felt his luck paying off and it wasn’t even opened yet. A single pop, was that different too? No, it sounded just as pleasant as it had before, so at least that hadn’t changed.

Though perhaps he shouldn’t have thought he was going to be lucky on his first attempt; this reward screamed useless, at least for the purpose of his goals. Out of the capsule, his hands grasped a singular earring, missing its other half. This couldn’t even be used well as a gift to a classmate.

He supposed it was fair that he would receive something he couldn’t make use of on his first spin of the day; he did, after all, earn three rewards that all proved to have a purpose in one go the previous day. Well, it wasn’t a problem, he had more than enough Monocoins to spare.

Another few coins went in the slot, another twist of the machine’s handle. Anticipation filled him, surely it would be better this time. As he waited, he couldn’t stop himself from observing the changes once more. They were actually pretty nice, if nothing else. The lights, the more he studied them, were soothing and the music was extremely calming. This was more akin to what he felt Monomi would have put on the islands rather than Monokuma.

He tried not to dwell on either, but the dulcet tones it provided were admittedly catchy and hard to ignore. They were a pleasant sound you’d have a hard time finding on the island.

Oh.

The machine’s reward had come out again and he hadn’t been paying attention. Why did he care so much if one of the animatronics had changed the machine’s appearance? It’s not like it was going to disrupt his chance to help his plan along.

He didn’t hesitate to reach out once more, and with another pop, still the most pleasant part of this process if you asked him, he had his reward in hand.

Another earring. How…invigorating.

It matched the first, so at least he had a proper pair now, and, he supposed of all possibilities, a pair of earrings someone else may like as a gift wasn’t the worst outcome. Perhaps it wasn’t bad luck, though he doubted he’d have the time to ever find who would wish to receive them. They weren’t simple, per se, they would hang down past the ears, and the insignia on them held no real meaning to him, but he supposed the hearts on them might be to someone else’s taste.

If anything, he was almost certain Ibuki would at least try them out. He knew she had enough piercings to at least test them out before tossing them. Sonia may take them too, if only because she would feel bad turning down a gift, likely not wanting to insult what was a new custom she didn’t understand. For now though, he stowed them away, feeling them land heavily in his empty pocket.

More coins, a third spin, his eyes following those lights, and that soft music drifting into his mind. He almost wished the music was a bit louder, he wanted to hear more of it. No complaints about the lights, they were perfectly bright and absolutely eye-catching.

They weren’t truly a problem as they were, chasing out any lingering thoughts about the earrings, and letting him focus on what was truly important.

Yes!

His capsule popped out, and he found himself more excited than he had for the previous two. Surely this one would be good, and even if it wasn’t, the way those prize pods popped was a delightful enough sound that it served as a reward of its own.

The lucky student deftly reached out for the pod, and didn’t pause for even a moment before he opened it. The pop of it made his brain tingle for just a moment, a smile gracing his face despite himself, and he eagerly looked toward his reward.

It wasn’t immediately obvious to him what this was. An unassuming, closed disc-like shape. Taking notice of the small clasp, he pressed whatever he had received open. What greeted him was the sight of a white haired boy, who’s gray eyes peered hazily back at him.

Ah, a compact mirror.

Nagito stared at his own reflection for a few moments longer, watching himself blink once, and then twice, before shaking his head and closing it. Well, it wasn’t completely useless like the, the- earrings, but he wasn’t exactly certain how he could use a compact mirror either, except for what he’d just done. Still, he carefully put the mirror away in a pocket of his coat, and turned his attention back toward the machine.

This one was going to be the one, he could feel it. This one was where his luck would start to turn around. Another handful of coins in the slot, a quick turn of the handle, and-

That delightful music immediately flooded his ears and drowned out the sounds of the waves crashing onto the shore of the beach. The machine once more lit up and drew in his attention, the soft shades of pink and the baby blue lights rotating around peacefully. They certainly did wonders to focus Nagito’s mind.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

His reward came out, and he couldn’t help the animated excitement that flooded his body. There wasn’t a motion wasted between the capsule coming out of the machine and his hands shooting out to collect it. The ever present pop of the prize pod made him let out a wistful sigh, it was definitely the most pleasurable part of this. He carefully dumped the contents of the capsule into his waiting hands.

At first he struggled to wrap his mind around what this was even supposed to be, yet it spoke to him more than either of the earrings did. He turned it over in his grip, noting the small metal chain dangling from one of its ends, and the buckle that allowed you to adjust it. It was almost like a small…um…belt? Yeah! Like a belt.

Ohhhh, it was a collar! How didn’t he notice right away!

He wanted to say it was useless…but…even if it was just a bit feminine, it did look really appealing, and he wanted to use at least one of his rewards. He’d earned them after all, so why shouldn’t he?

Carefully unbuckling his gift, he slipped it around his neck, making sure not to make it too tight and allowing it to rest comfortably on his skin. He opened up the mirror he’d received earlier to look himself over, and beamed. The deep black of the collar contrasted with his pale skin and white hair wonderfully. Though, he paused for a moment in his admiration of his new accessory. His adam's apple seemed almost imperceptible, was it even still there? No, that wouldn’t make sense, the collar must have just done a good job of hiding it.

He was overthinking it, probably just a trip of his perception, especially given he’d never worn a…no…hadn’t he always been…? Idly, he scratched at his chest, a frown pulling at his features as he tried to think about it, before shaking his worries away. Whatever, it didn’t really matter. The gorgeous collar was on and his concerns were quieted, leaving him free to focus on what really mattered.

Fifth time had to be the charm. That was the umm… the saying, right? It probably shouldn’t have been difficult to remember, but he found that it was a strain to think about. Well, he shouldn’t be focusing on something pointless like that anyway. Not when this wonderful machine was right in front of him!

He barely even thought about the act of slotting the coins, that wasn’t what he needed to focus on. It was what came after that always struck him more, that always grabbed his attention.

Oh…yes…that was it…

The music drifted to his ears, and he felt his entire body slump in relaxation. Those pesky thoughts from before faded away, and he felt more at ease than ever before. No worries, just the velvety tones of the machine, where all of his attention ought to-

No! That couldn’t be right! He couldn’t just focus on that, what the hell was he thinking!? There was no way he could just listen to those sounds as if it was all that mattered!

Not when those utterly astounding lights were there to accompany them! It would be unthinkable to give all his attention to the music when those pinks and blues were right there to remind him of their presence. They were begging to be looked at, and he couldn’t ignore their plea.

He wouldn’t even say he wanted to, why would he when they made such a…um…such a…

The words felt like they wouldn’t form through the thick cloud in his mind. He could barely remember what he’d even been getting at. Well if he’d forgotten, it probably wasn’t important. Not like the music, the lights, the-

Pop

He hadn’t even noticed he’d grab the prize capsule, but how could he even dream of ignoring that delicious sound. That fuzzy feeling that lit up in his brain, navigating the fog, all to reward him for opening it up, just for listening.

The items inside fell into his hands with a lively giggle, this wasn’t a bad reward at all. It was confusing at first, trying to focus on what he’d received, but it only took a few moments to realize what it was.

It’s…it’s um…one of those…make-up sets?

He’d seen girls use them before, but he wasn’t quite sure if that was what they were called. It was just a small bag of varied cosmetics, most of which he could confidently say weren’t familiar to him.

Delicately rummaging around in the bag, he tried to think of what use it could serve him. Worrying his lip in contemplation, he pulled out a tube of lipstick. It had very pretty deep jade coloring to it, and he had to admit that it was eye-catching. It wasn’t something he would use himself, but…

His mind drifted off for a moment, failing to actually come up with a conclusion to that line of thought, and his eyes briefly left the item in his hands to look back at the machine that had so generously donated this to him. It was a gift, wasn’t it? He couldn’t just give it away.

More than that, it was a reward he had earned. He couldn’t just throw away something he had worked so hard to gain. Not when it was the MonoMono Machine that had given it to him.

The warring thoughts quelled, Nagito knew what was needed. He twisted the bottom of the tube, cautious not to damage it with clumsy movements, lest he destroy his hard-earned gift. His nails clicked gently against the plastic as he did, making him blink for a moment. When was the last time he trimmed them? Well, they didn’t actually look so out of place, instead complimenting his delicate fingers. He had more important things to worry about anyway. He pressed the tube to his lips, ready to at least try it for himself and-

Heavenly.

It was the only word that he could think of that could even remotely begin to describe the sensation. The tube had only touched his lips for a moment but his body was immediately awash in abject delight. It felt extraordinary, mind-numbingly blissful, and he barely even recognized the fact he somehow knew how to put it on.

That was such a silly notion, it made it sound like he’d just learned the skill. How would he not know how to apply his makeup if he wore it every day?

He couldn’t help the giddy shaking of his fingers as he moved them back into the bag, eager to try the rest of his gifts. Simple black mascara that was no less appealing, deep jade eyeliner to match his lipstick which he applied in thick, curled wings that made his eyes pop.

Pop.

Wasn’t that such a delightful word to think of? It was almost enough to distract him from the last item in his cosmetics bag. A bottle of black nail polish, a change from the more facially targeted items from before. Not that he really cared about that, it was still an important part of his look.

With hands as dainty as his, he always needed a way to make them stand out. He was thankful that this was in his bag, part of his reward, because he really couldn’t remember what he had done with his other bottles. Or at least, that was probably the reason he hadn’t worn any this morning, right? He scratched at his chest for a moment before he applied the nail polish, no sense in ruining his work because he had an itch before his nails had dried.

With delicate strokes, he slowly painted his nails, and felt immediate relief in the wow factor he always longed for. The deep coloring of the black polish stood out just as he wanted when contrasting his pale skin. He blew on each of his nails for a moment, just to hopefully help his nails set, he certainly didn’t want their shine or beauty to fade.

His chest was getting irritated again, he really hated this shirt. The material always felt loose and everytime it brushed against his rather large chest he felt the urge to scratch at himself. Wait…was that…did that seem right? Were his…were his…his, like, uh… What were those again?

Nagito stared down at himself for a moment longer before shaking his head. Either way, his stupid shirt didn’t fit, and he hated it.

His coat wasn’t much better. The faded green wasn’t exactly a welcome color, and the material felt ratty and aged. Maybe he’d see if he could borrow something from another student. That could come later though, he had bigger concerns.

He’d spent so much time relishing in his reward that he had taken his attention away from the machine. That just wouldn’t do, not at all. Taking just a few moments to check over his nails to make sure they were properly dry, he reached a hand into his pocket to fish out more coins for the machines.

The lights came back, and he blinked dumbly up at them, they seemed almost…bri…bri…brighter now? They were just so pretty that it was hard to even think of what he had wanted to say. The only thing missing was the-

The music returned and an unrepentant squeal left his lips in his excitement to let it flood into his mind. It was…was…um…like louder now? God it was so hard to think of words when those pretty lights kept distracting him and that delicious music made his head go blissfully numb.

He couldn’t help but let a blissful moan escape his lips at the wonderful treatment from the music and lights. It made him feel feminine, and that made him giggle vapidly. Feminine was such a cute word, it made him feel all warm and fuzzy.

Hehe Yay!

This was her…his? Yeah…um…his right? Whatever, it was the best part! The caps…capsa…capsu…the little thingie that made that-

Uhhh…

The moan ended his train of thought as the pod made that wonderful pop that left his knees buckling. The experience was just so pleasurable that he couldn’t help himself from enjoying it. The pops always managed to seep into his brain, even through the blissful haze the music and lights always left for him, just to make sure he knew he was being rewarded.

My reward!

See! She…no…um…he knew the pops were the best part! They always brought him rewards, even if it was hard to remember that under the delight of the machine’s other features. Her…his…fingers reached out and grabbed the gift, a large pod for her, a bigger reward for him to enjoy!

God he could barely even see what he received, his unruly hair was getting in his eyes. While she’d never…he’d never minded that it cascaded down to the small of his back, even if it was an untamed mess of waves and curls, the fact it was in his face was so aggravating! He tried his best to part his hair as neatly as he could with most of it to one side. This was so much better! Now she could see properly and everybody could see his pretty makeup.

This must have been the most lucky gift yet! He’d just been complaining about how he needed to get some new clothes and the machine was rewarding her more than ever! Their colors were absolutely gorgeous, and they matched his makeup so well!

Carefully unfolding them, she sucked in a giddy breath and squealed! This hoodie was utterly perfect, it wasn’t as long as his old one and it was the same color as his lipstick! It would make his collar pop, she just knew it! What really caught his attention was the design on the right side of it. It was a gorgeous maroon vine that stood out against the green of the rest of the hoodie.

The vine started on the sleeve, where her bicep would be when he put it on, and looped over the shoulder down towards the center where the zipper line was. He just wanted to put it on right away but he couldn’t! Not when he hadn’t even checked his other gift yet!

At first it seemed so simple, just a normal white shirt, but oh, how wrong he was for thinking that. Turning it around a soft gasp slid past her lips, how could she have called this simple? It matched his sweater down to the design, the vine coming from its right side to land over its left side. His eyes couldn’t help but trace the vine, watching every curl and loop until it came to a stop forming a delightfully elegant heart.

His breath hitched as she finally saw the words, in stylized calligraphy, lodged inside of the heart.

‘Good Girl’

The words bounced around in his mind. His mind? Why did that feel so wrong…he…wasn’t he a…? Was he? The notion felt so wrong, so heavy. Holding on to the thought was a strain. It didn’t make sense and it left him feeling dizzy. Why would the shirt have something like this written on it?

‘Good Girl’

Her eyes had drifted back down to the writing in a daze. Why would the shirt have something like this written on it? The answer felt so obvious now. Just like the fuzzy-feeling pops, it was to remind her of the important things.

Not the silly notion of being a boy, those kinds of thoughts made her dizzy. The words were just helping her remember that she didn’t need to be thinking such stupid things. Reminding her of what mattered, the truth, what she was and always had been.

‘Good Girl’

The words were in front of her eyes again and she giggled vapidly. That was right, a good girl, that’s what she was. That was what she was meant to be, not some stupid boy, just a perfectly good girl. The realization made her giddy and her body tingle, her legs shaking at the thought.

If thinking of what she was, felt this good, how would it feel if she said it? If she announced to the world that she finally realized that she was meant to be a good girl? She had to try it, just once for her own curiosity.

“Good girl.”

The words rolled off her tongue, leaving a heady taste behind them as they did, and her eyes fluttered, a jolt in her lower belly shooting up into her brain and making her gasp.

“I’m- I’m a good girl.” She repeated, and the words were like a thunderbolt, shooting through her. Her legs shook for a moment, weakened for a brief beat of ecstasy that Nagito wished would last so much longer.

Thankfully, she knew exactly how to make it so.

“I’m a good girl~” She repeated again, and whined high in her throat as she did, her eyes screwing shut as her brain lit up like a christmas tree, before dimming further than before. Her heart was beating like mad in her chest, as if trying to break out of its cage through her ribs, and her hand came to rest on it for a moment, only to find a hardened nipple beneath her fingers.

Instinctually, she pinched it, and gasped. Another jolt of pleasure shocked her brain, but she wasn’t satisfied with just this.

“I’m a good girl!” She cried, her hand groping her heaving tit, and her legs collapsed underneath her, though she barely noticed. No, her mind was already chasing the next hit.

“I’m a good girl! I’m a good girl~” She moaned, her free hand pulling at the hem of her pants, almost ripping the button off as she did. She needed to feel even more pleasure. She needed to jack-

Her fingers found her moistened slit, and she moaned as they easily dipped inside. Her earlier thought melted away in pleasure.

“I’m a good girl!” She cried, again and again on the beach, mauling one of her tits and fingering herself desperately, but it was as if there was a ceiling to her pleasure, a cap she just couldn’t breach through no matter how loudly she cried, or how wet she got.

So unfair! Unjust! Nagito was being a good girl, she deserved to cum! She whined, her back arching as she lifted her shirt to grab at her tit directly, only to freeze as her eyes landed on the chain resting there.

The chain leading up to her collar.

Shakily, Nagito grabbed hold of it, the metal feeling cold, and oh-so-strong between her weak fingers. She pulled at it lightly, and her brain melted as she felt her collar being tugged.

Her pleasure-drunk brain tried to make sense of it all. The collar, the makeup, the shirt-

Nagito’s masturbation redoubled in effort as she panted, her eyes staring out into nothing, or perhaps something only she could see.

None of it was for her.

No, those weren’t gifts for her.

She moaned aloud as she pulled at her chain again, letting herself crash into the sand without resistance.

No, those were all for someone else.

Someone to use her.

Someone to own her.

She was a gift for them.

She couldn’t just be a good girl on her own. No, she was someone’s good girl~

Nagito’s eyes rolled for a moment as her fingers flicked at her clit.

“I-I’m a good girl for my master!” She cried in ecstasy, the revelation so profound it wasn’t even washed away by the tidal wave of pleasure that lay waste to everything else in her mind as she came, almost violently.

Her back arched as she loudly announced her pleasure, her loyalty to her master, her discovery of her true place in life-

When she came down from the high of her pleasure, panting and out of breath, she took a moment to try and collect her thoughts, fleeting as they were. Her thighs were soaked in her own juices, and her pants were practically useless now, not that she minded the loss all that much.

With a gasp she lurched forward. She’d nearly forgotten about her gift from her master! She’d be so lost in her own world of pleasure that she’d forgotten to put on the outfit he’d prepared for her.

Nagito hurriedly collected the clothes she had so thoughtlessly dropped in her pursuit of pleasure and rushed to replace the disgusting garments she was wearing. She only took a moment to wistfully sigh at the symbol on her shirt before draping over herself. It fit perfectly, as expected, clinging to the curves of her chest, leaving enough cleavage in view to let her master know she was always available. It cut off at her midriff, leaving a tantalizing portion of her pale skin visible, just to entice him further. She could almost feel her master’s words through the ink, branding her bare skin. It felt incredible~

The hoodie slipped on with ease, and was as comfortable as she could have dreamed it would be. Of course it was, her master wouldn’t have given it to her otherwise. It hung just to the hem of her pants, which would work well if she ever wished to put herself on display, it wouldn’t cover her from view.

Though thinking back to her pants, she realized they didn’t fit with the rest of her outfit at all, and she was almost thankful they were ruined. Now at least, she’d have the chance to find something prettier to dress herself in, something that would compliment her outfit and make sure her master knew she was a good slutty girl for him~

Maybe the Rocketpunch Market would have some, or something she could borrow from one of the other girls? She didn’t know where she was going to find-

Oh…she was so stupid! The answer was right in front of her.

She let out an airheaded giggle as her eyes traced the machine that started all of this. How had she ever forgotten it, her master must have put it here just for her to use it. No wonder nobody else ever collected any of those coins, they were obviously for her.

Knowing her master had never steered her wrong, she collected the last of her coins from her discarded pants’ pocket, enough for one last spin of the machine, and trusted her luck. No…her silly talent didn’t matter, she trusted her master to reward her. Good girls got the best rewards, and she’d been getting them all.

The machine lit up, its familiar colors a welcome sight, and the rhythmic music returned. She couldn’t help but hum along to its catchy tune as she tapped her fingers against her bare thighs, patiently waiting for her master’s choice. After a few moments, the slot opened and out came the last capsule she could afford.

She carefully opened the capsule and-

Pop!

She moaned whorishly at the sound, her brain going fuzzy, and she felt the urge to show herself off. Her master was asking…no, demanding she do so with the sound. She resisted the urge despite herself, her master wasn’t here right now, it was just reminding her of her place, what she would need to do in the future.

Nagito shook away the pleasurable feeling, even though she wished she could live in its bliss for the rest of her life. She carefully took out the items from the capsule, and sighed happily. Her master didn’t let her down, she knew he wouldn’t.

Her hands grasped at the items carefully, she couldn’t damage a reward from her master, a good girl treated his gifts with respect and love. A pair of lacy jade panties were the first thing she took note of, matching her sweater and her makeup. Not that it mattered much when it came to her sweater; she’d only want to be seen in them when the hoodie, not to mention the rest of her clothes were off, and preferably for her master’s pleasure.

A simple pair of black thigh highs were next, followed by a short black skirt that looked like it would barely go past the pair of panties she had received. Finally a pair of black mary janes to replace her shoes. This was the perfect way to complete her look and she relished in the rewards.

She took a moment to peek around her surroundings to make sure nobody was around to see her. She quickly took off her shoes, stripped off her bottoms and those garish boxers she had been wearing, dropping them in a pile before sliding on the panties and her new skirt as quickly as she could without damaging them.

Once more she checked around her and let out a sigh of relief when it was evident nobody was nearby. She didn’t want to go around letting anybody see her like that, no that was a sight for her master’s eyes only. Finally she slid her new thigh highs up her legs, savoring the way they felt as she did, and then slid on her shoes.

Nagito paused then, taking a moment to appreciate the feel of her new clothes on her body. She finally felt complete, felt that everything was just as it should be. She knew her place, and she finally reflected that for everyone else to see. More importantly, for her master to appreciate. She reflected who she was deep in her soul, the perfect appearance for a good girl like her.

The thought still made her sigh in pleasure, and she felt a familiar urge building up the more she repeated the words. Now though, she was free to seek that feeling whenever, and wherever she wanted, until her master came for her.

With that thought happily lodged in the forefront of her mind, she scooped up her previous clothing, if only to prevent the rule about littering from making a fuss, and collected her empty capsules with them. Humming a familiar melody to herself, she made her way back to her room, sparing the machine that her master had made for her one last glance.

Everything was as it should have been.

No more thoughts about…whatever it was she had been doing yesterday.

No more worries, no more stress, no more planning.

Well, maybe a little planning…after all those capsules gave her a really good idea when she thought about their sound, and they could be a reward in their own way.

She stepped into her room and let out a happy sigh. Good girls deserved rewards, and she had a lot of time to thoroughly reward herself.

Pop! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ It was with her fingers buried deep in her core that the doorbell to her cottage rang. She let out an aggravated groan. She’d been so close and someone just had to come and ruin it! Huffing to herself and wiping off her fingers, she stood up, just in time for the doorbell to ring again.

She heard it the first time, and now it was even more annoying. Swinging open the door she was greeted by the sight of Hajime at her doorstep, his finger primed to press the bell again.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at her, and she realized she must have looked quite the sight. Her clothes were ruffled and her hair was more wild than usual, her skin had an unusual shine to it, coated in sweat. How long had she been lost in the throes of her own pleasure? Did she miss the morning announcement?

“S…sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.” Really? He finally mustered up the courage to speak and he thought she’d been asleep?

“What did you need?” She tried her best to keep any venom from her tongue and his interruption, not like he could have known what she was doing before he’d arrived.

He went silent again, and his eyes carefully raked over her form. Her face quickly twisted up in disgust as she traced his eyes to her bust.

“Hey! Someone like you doesn’t have the right to check me out!” The disdain must have been evident in her words because his eyes quickly shot back to hers.

“Sorry…Byakuya wanted all of us to get together, guess he needed to say something.” He wisely chose to address his original reason for coming instead of trying to defend his misstep.

“Sure, I’ll be there in a bit, let me just fix up my makeup.” The lucky student didn’t give the boy a chance to respond before she shut the door on him, preventing his roaming eyes from seeing any more of her.

She needed a moment to calm herself once she had closed the entrance to her cottage. Who the hell did he think he was, staring at her like that! She didn’t look like this for him to appreciate, this was all for her master. Someone like Hajime would never understand that he paled in comparison.

Nagito stopped her train of thought before it could go any further, and took a deep breath. It seemed her earlier act would have to wait until later to be resumed, so she made her way towards her room’s dresser, fetching her cosmetic bag. She drew her compact mirror from her pocket and began to touch up her makeup. She needed to look her best.

She knew her master was watching, somewhere, at least she had hope that he could see her, even now.

When she was certain her appearance was the best she could possibly make it, she once more opened the door to her cottage and stepped out to make her way towards Hotel Mirai.

The lucky student hoped Byakuya’s message would be quick. This was all such a hassle, but she doubted there was any avoiding it. Though she did wonder what he wanted with all of them, she had better, more pleasurable things to be doing. She would just have to go and see, and then she could get back to doing something worthwhile.

Dreaming of her master, and being a good girl for him. That was her purpose, after all.

#danganronpa18 #makoto naegi18 #nagito komaeda18 #thelewdpokemanik

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densesindealer · 10 months ago

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Neo World: Pacification Program

Hello everyone, Dense here! This story, Neo World: Pacification Program, wasn't a solo effort. @thelewdpokemanik and I have been working, and intend to continue working on this story together. We're writing each chapter as a pair, so forgive us if you sometimes notice some differences between our two styles of writing.

You can also find this story, and stay the most updated on it, on AO3, which can be found here.

The idea for this story was born out of the desire to work on a story together, and after brainstorming we came up with this! We found the idea to be fun and unique, and decided to just throw ourselves at it and enjoy the ride.

As always, comments, kudos and whatever else you desire are never required, but we do love getting the feedback.

Without further ado, Poke and Dense present, Neo World: Pacification Program! We hope that you all enjoy this journey with us. <3

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Chapter One: Problems, Planning, Pacification

“How the hell did this happen?” Mondo screamed, slamming his fist on the arm of his chair, making the metal creak painfully. His voice bounced off the walls of the mechanical operation room housing the Neo World Program computer, which really, was a gross understatement. It was a true marvel of technological advancement, including all the monitors, storage banks, the pods containing the sleeping members of his senior class- and many more things Makoto couldn’t even hope to understand.

The biker was hunched in his seat as if he were prepared to lunge if he didn’t like the answer, though Makoto knew better.

He still grimaced in his seat. “We- aren’t sure? I mean, obviously, one of the Remnants must have brought the virus with them, but…”

“We don’t exactly have the Ultimate Programmer here with us to follow along with the Neo World Program’s code,” Celeste said, ignoring the way Mondo twitched at her words. The biker had never gotten over Chihiro’s death at Toko’s hands, and honestly, there was a very real chance he would never move on. Well, it's not like Makoto had any room to talk, of course.

The only reason he could count the number of deaths he hadn’t gotten over on his hands was because only ten students had died during the Killing Game. Their Killing Game now.

Because there might very well be a second one soon.

“No doubt, that Izuru fellow had ulterior motives in helping us. I said he wasn’t trustworthy from the start, but of course, someone wouldn’t listen to reason…” The gambler said, shooting Makoto a look many would call venomous, but Makoto could see that while frustrated, there was next-to-no anger there.

“We wouldn’t have been able to find and capture all the Remnants without his help, Celeste, you know that. And Chiaki vouched for him, didn’t she?”

Indeed, Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer and former Class Representative of Class 77, had vouched for the mysterious Ultimate. She had also been the one to approach Makoto, asking for his help saving her classmates, though he couldn’t say he understood why she trusted him in particular with this. It could have been that he was the Ultimate Hope, or maybe that he was the unofficial leader of the surviving class of Junko’s game. He didn’t know why she chose him over any of his other classmates. He did however know that the rest of Future Foundation would have categorically refused, if not outright arrested her for even proposing this, where he was eager to help.

Of course, things had escalated since then.

And that was before Monokuma came back, somehow.

Celeste clicked her tongue. “That girl is too much like you, Makoto. She would vouch for her killer as she bled to death.”

Makoto laughed awkwardly at that, though he hardly felt jovial. This was worse than what he’d thought the worst-case scenario would be.

“So, what do we know?” Kyoko’s calm voice sounded through the laptop’s speaker.

The detective was working in concert with Sakura, helping keep the heat off the other survivors as they went MIA with the Remnants- no, with Class 77.

“Well, things were working properly in the beginning. Usami was taking care of the students, and as expected, Izuru was replaced by his former self, Hajime Hinata. Chiaki did warn us that this would happen, so...” Makoto explained half-heartedly, his mind still focused on the issue at hand.

“So the likelihood that it is relevant is minor,” Kyoko nodded along, also focused on the more pressing issue. “What then?”

“Well, Monokuma appeared.” Makoto explained, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach he’d felt at the sight. For a moment, he’d almost thought it a nightmare if not for the way Celeste’s clawed hand had been digging into his shoulder like a talon.

“But wasn’t Usami supposed to be armed to deal with viruses and attacks?” Sakura’s calm voice asked from Kyoko’s monitor. “What came of that?”

“Monokuma overpowered her, somehow. He stole her administrator privileges and, uh, repainted her and is calling her ‘Monomi’. As far as we can tell, her actual AI hasn’t been affected in this process, probably for him to enjoy her suffering.” Makoto explained, only for Celeste to jump in.

“We’ve confirmed that Monokuma was attacked by the rabbit in some fashion, but none of us here can actually decipher what Fujisaki and Gekkogahara’s work does.” Celeste shot Makoto a smirk then. “I suppose all we can do is Hope it’ll be enough.”

The Ultimate Hope groaned. Ever since Celeste had called him that on live television, it had, effectively, become his official title, and the gambler was more than happy to tease him about it at every opportunity. Not to mention teasing him in other ways…

Makoto shook off his blush and cleared his throat. “Yeah. Usami seems to have done something during their fight, but what exactly, we really can’t tell…”

Kyoko hummed for a moment, before continuing. “Monokuma took over the program, but to what extent?”

Makoto grimaced again. “Almost completely. Usami’s been completely depowered, we can’t interfere at all with what’s happening inside- Though, we still have access to the cameras and can import stuff in-”

“You. Will. Not. Enter that simulation, Makoto Naegi. I forbid it,” Celeste said, her voice cold as ice, and Makoto felt his blood run cold. “No doubt that bitch left those untouched expressly to make you jump in like the self-sacrificing idiot you are.”

Yeah… Celeste still hadn’t forgiven him for not throwing Kyoko under the bus during Junko’s staged trial. At least, she hadn’t tried to kill him.

Makoto could still clearly see the scar Celeste had left on Kyoko’s face with her claw on her monitor. The pale line went from the corner of her mouth, and stretched out to just under her cheekbone, pulling slightly whenever Kyoko spoke.

Kyoko didn’t seem to bregrudge Celeste for it however. ‘I have worse scars’ she’d once said, ‘and this one I deserve.’

Celeste’s choice of words had been a lot less…diplomatic. ‘Should’ve taken the lying whore’s tongue with it.’ or, something to that effect…

Makoto chose not to linger on it, honestly. He had lost too many friends to begrudge those that had survived.

“I agree.” Sakura said, followed by Kyoko’s silent nod.

“Guys…” Makoto tried to plead his case, that he wasn’t actually that bad-

“If he tries, I’ll tie him down to his chair,” Mondo promised, making Celeste scoff.

“You won’t touch him, you brute. No, if Makoto does anything stupid, he’ll answer to me.”

The luckster couldn’t quite hide his wince at that. Celeste could kill a man with her words, but never did they cut so deep as when she tried to imprint on Makoto that she was going to find a way to stop him from passing on before the rest of them. It always hurt to know he worried her so much, especially when he could see the tears held back tightly just behind her mask.

And it’s not like Makoto wanted to sacrifice himself or anything. He’d be perfectly happy never putting his life in danger again, thank you very much.

But on the other hand, he was incapable of refusing to offer his help when someone needed it. Not that he wanted to be the kind of person who would, in all honesty.

Anyway.

“Celeste, you said ‘that bitch’ earlier?” Kyoko asked, bringing the conversation back on topic (thankfully for Makoto). “Then, do you think…”

“That this is one of Enoshima’s ploys? Obviously. It’s got her name written all over this.”

“But- she’s dead, right?” Mondo asked, and Makoto nodded definitively.

Though he hadn’t seen her corpse himself, well…

The Remnants had brought enough pieces back to remove any doubt he might’ve had.

“Yes, but I don’t think she was stupid enough to actually stop her planning at her death. No, Enoshima is far too clever for that.” Celeste said, a note of begrudging respect in her voice that Makoto could only agree with.

Junko was many things. Insane, sado-masochistic, cruel, self-destructive-

But most of all, she was intelligent. Incredibly so.

If she wanted to plan something like this, even something that would only come to pass after her death, she definitely could.

“But how, is the question.” Sakura said. “Fearsome as Junko is, she cannot rise from the dead.”

Hopefully.

“No. But she has spent many years in the same class as the Ultimate Programmer as he developed Alter Ego technology, and was familiar with the Ultimate Neurologist.”

Kyoko’s voice almost seemed like it deafened Makoto for a moment as her words shot through him.

“Are you saying- Junko…”

“Made an Alter Ego herself? I don’t know. But I think it is a very real possibility, especially since she has been known to be very adept with technology in the past. It would explain how efficiently she took over the simulation. If Usami wasn’t fighting one AI, but two…”

Mondo’s jaw was tightly set. “Then it was two on one, and Usami couldn’t fight back.”

“She did manage to infect the Monokuma AI with something, so to say she was powerless would be false, but whether or not she was effective…” Sakura let the sentence hang.

She didn’t need to say it for everyone to understand.

“All we can do is wait, regrettably.” Celeste finally said, and Makoto found himself squirming slightly.

Yeah… Nothing anyone could do.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to see. Makoto, Celeste, please keep us abreast of the situation as it evolves. As of now, it seems like the Killing Game has yet to begin, but that could change at any moment.” Kyoko said, and Makoto wanted to jump up and say there was no chance it would begin at all-

But he knew better, sadly.

“I’ll make sure Yasuhiro is informed about the situation discreetly.” Kyoko added, and Makoto nodded absent-mindedly.

Hiro was still in the heart of Future Foundation, working and acting as if nothing was wrong at all.

He was ideally placed to learn about Future Foundation’s movements, but it also meant that all of his communications were heavily scrutinized- no doubt Kyoko would need to sneak the message to him somehow. It also meant that, under no circumstances could Hiro hint at knowing Jabberwock Island even existed, and especially not send a message here.

After a few perfunctory goodbyes, Mondo stomped back outside the room, no doubt looking to take out his anger on something or other, while Makoto sagged back in the chair he’d been occupying a few hours ago when Monokuma first appeared.

God, what a nightmare…

Makoto looked into the screen in front of him, jumping from camera to camera and observing the 16 students who were now stuck inside the game he’d only just escaped with his life a few months ago.

And there was nothing he could do to help except hope for the best.

…

Unbidden, Makoto’s eyes drifted to the second monitor, the one showing the drives of the Neo World Program.

He’d gone through them wildly when Monokuma first appeared, but he could barely understand what was in it, let alone figure out what had changed.

Though, there was one thing he’d recognized, if only because it was possibly labeled explicitly for him, or whoever was using the program when something went wrong.

“So? What’s your backup plan?” Celeste asked from the seat next to him, making him jump.

“Gah! C-Celeste!? Wh-What are you talking about!?” Makoto tried to deny it, but Celeste only smiled at him.

“You’re hiding something, Makoto, and not very well. Not that you can hide anything from me of course.” Was that a note of smugness in her voice?

But it was true that Celeste could read him like a book. Maybe that was the price to pay for him to be able to see past her mask himself.

Makoto sighed, before navigating the drive back to the simply named folder he’d found earlier today.

‘In Case Of Usami Failure!’

And inside that folder was a single program, and a text document, which Makoto opened, before sliding his chair out of the way for Celeste to read herself.

“Thank you very much~” Celeste said, leaning over Makoto and making him blush as he felt her body pressing into him lightly as she read.

He looked away, though his eyes struggled to find where to land for a moment, before he eventually closed them, not needing to read the file again.

He’d done so again, and again, and again already.

‘Hello! If you’re reading this .txt file, then this must mean something went wrong that Usami failed to fix! Depending on what or why, you might need to take matters into your own hands! If you do, here’s what you need!

In this folder, you will find a .exe program! It is functionally the same thing as the Pacification Program Usami carries with her, except you can direct it yourself, should the need arise. To do so, all you must do is boot up the .exe, and navigate through the island using the 3D render the program offers. Simply select a target, and focus the Pacification Program to whatever intensity may be needed.

This does of course come with risks, so please take care to use this responsibly. The subjects inside of this program are treated as ‘rogue code’ by the Pacification Program, and this can affect the Rehabilitation Program the Neo World Program’s foundation rests on. As it is designed to do in the worst-case scenario, the program will first move to pacify the malicious code to prevent it from further harming the Neo World. From there it will attempt to alter the base coding of the target into something more useful for the system moderator.

The Pacification Program is relatively untested, and it should only be used in the case of an extreme emergency! If at all possible, contact technical support before resorting to this option. Love love <;3’

Makoto only had to wait a moment before Celeste’s eyes turned back toward him, the rubies glinting with intelligence as she took her seat again, her hands folded in her lap primly.

“So?” She asked, and Makoto grimaced.

“I tried using it on Monokuma, but it couldn’t select him as a target. Maybe it’s because he’s not an original part of the program, or maybe it's because Usami did manage to infect him and he can’t be targeted again or something. I tried using the 3D map to search the island, but it’s literally changing as I navigate it, and some parts are completely closed off and inaccessible, like the ruins. As far as I can tell, it isn’t really useful in this situation.”

Celeste’s smile widened a fraction. “If you believed that, you wouldn’t be so bothered by it.”

Makoto smiled shakily. “You know me too well…”

“Fufufu~ Oh, Makoto, you couldn’t be more wrong~” Celeste slightly teased him, but her eyes were still serious.

“Well, I tested the program for a little bit. It all seems focused on calming people down, making them more compliant, less aggressive, etc. I can target everything on the island with it, except for Monokuma, as I said. I think it works just as it's advertised, making sure conflicts don't happen on the island.”

Makoto paused for a moment, staring back at Celeste’s pale face.

“If- the worst came to pass, I was thinking maybe I could use it to stop things from- happening?” Makoto winced at his own words as he tried to tip-toe around actually saying what he was worried about.

“You think you could use this Pacification Program to stop a murder, should it come to that?”

“It shouldn't have to, but- I know better than that. My hope is that if one of them does fall to that temptation, I can stop it before it's too late, save them where I- '' Makoto choked on the words before they finished leaving his mouth.

Where I couldn't save them before.

The words were left unsaid, but both knew what he had been getting at. The loss of their friends still weighed heavy on all of the survivors, and him more so than anyone else.

His guilt cut him deeper than anyone else’s did, his heart almost bleeding out of his chest sometimes, and Celeste no doubt recognized the pain he felt so vividly still. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, always had, and now was no different.

He took a deep breath, and slowly let it out, letting his shoulders fall with it. “Like I said, I hope I won’t have to use it, and not only because I want to believe in them, but also because, well, I’m not a genius. I think I can figure it out, but I’m sure there’s a reason it's supposed to be for emergencies only. On the other hand…”

“If this isn’t an emergency, then what is, hm?” Celeste finished the thought, a clawed finger resting on her chin, her eyes still drilling into Makoto.

For a moment, the pair sat in silence, only disturbed by the simulated ambience coming through the cameras and the sound of machinery all around them.

It was strange how things happened.

When Makoto had first met Celeste, he had only felt deceit and danger coming from her, and had actively feared being left alone with her, lest she somehow manage to talk him out of all of his worldly possession, or worse, into a game of mahjong.

But now, sitting next to her, on the run from what now stood as the government, harboring fugitives on a deserted island and hoping they would survive, he wasn’t sure there was anyone he trusted more.

O-Of course, he trusted all of his friends from Class 78! No doubt about that! Mondo had sworn to protect him more than once, and Sakura had been ready to lay her own life down to save them all. Hiro might act like a doofus, but even now, he worked at the heart of Future Foundation to help them, and though Kyoko might act cold, he knew that she cared for all of them deep down.

Though she might’ve not trusted him as he trusted her in the past, it was the past, truthfully. Kyoko had changed, and seen the error of her ways. Even now, she was trusting them with this project, when all of their lives may very well lie in the balance.

But still, sitting here with Celeste, he felt, at peace, almost.

As if anything was possible.

Even beating Junko for a second time, and stopping a tragedy from repeating itself.

Makoto took another deep breath. “Thanks for volunteering to stay with me here, Celeste.”

The girl’s pale face split into a smile. “Well, if you do feel so grateful, maybe you’d like to pay me back~”

Makoto’s face exploded into a blush as Celeste teased him, again, and he turned away from her to instead focus on the monitor.

Another round of camera checks told Makoto that all of Class 77 was sleeping in bed. Which was normal, of course. The simulated time matched the time on the real island, and it was approaching- wow, two in the morning?

Well, Makoto had been very busy thus far, of course, but still.

He swallowed a yawn and blinked, hard.

“Are you planning to stay here all night?” Celeste asked, only half-surprised.

“Well, night time is dangerous, right? You’re the one who introduced the night time rule, Celeste.” Makoto said, but Celeste only rolled her eyes.

“Of course you are. What, are you planning to stay awake forever?”

Makoto looked away. “Of course not, but…”

But Makoto simply didn’t know when to leave. What if the moment he abandoned his vigil something happened? Should he sleep when the students went to bed? But that would also be when they were at their most vulnerable, wasn't it? Should he sleep during the day then? But that didn't seem right either, wouldn't that be when most of them were out and about?

“You are ridiculous, Makoto. The worst possible outcome is you falling asleep unexpectedly.”

“No, the worst possible outcome is me failing these people and letting the Killing Game start again.” Makoto snapped, only to immediately regret his harsher tone.

For a moment, a more uncomfortable silence reigned in the operating room, and Makoto felt as if he had something stuck in his throat, at least until Celeste stood up, and laid her hand on his shoulder.

“Go to sleep, Makoto. No one will make a move so soon. We can arrange a schedule tomorrow, and make sure one of us is always watching in the future.” Celeste said softly, and Makoto felt his unknowingly tense shoulders sagging.

He wanted to try and justify staying up, but he was cut off by another yawn, making Celeste giggle.

“As usual, your body is incredibly honest~” Celeste said, and Makoto felt a blush rise to his cheeks as her fingers rolled on his shoulder for a moment, before pulling at him lightly. “Come on. Walk me to my room, hm? You’d be a failure of a knight to not escort your lady.”

Makoto couldn’t stop his tired chuckle. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

As Makoto stood up, he couldn’t help but agree with his earlier thought.

He really was glad Celeste was here with him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They'd won, but it sometimes didn’t feel that way. He bore the pain of ten lives lost, the grief that came from losing them. Though unlike his fellow survivors, he even mourned the final loss of their game. For as much wrong as she did, he had wished, still did in many ways, that he could have saved Junko from her own pit of despair.

Her laugh, even if it sounded hollow, the proclamation that despair made Junko everything she was, all before she sealed her own fate. She'd never given him the chance to argue against it, and sometimes he chose to believe it was that she knew he would have succeeded. Makoto never had that chance, and she put herself through a gauntlet of despair, every execution she ever inflicted on their classmates, all in one bundle for her to face.

Yes, even her death hung heavy upon him, though not the heaviest of their losses, not nearly the heaviest.

When Mukuro took Byakuya's life, it pained him the same way. He'd never managed to break through Byakuya's shell, not as much as he wanted. He'd never really known who Mukuro truly was, but he always saw glimpses of the true girl buried beneath the disguise she wore.

She'd told him once she held out hope that he would stop Junko, though she never said her name, she never had the chance before she was dragged away to her own punishment. He still couldn't understand why she chose Byakuya as her victim, what of his demeanor screamed a traitor even Mukuro didn't know of.

He always blamed himself though, like Mukuro was protecting him from Byakuya's consistently cruel comments. Every time they visited him at night they didn't hesitate to remind him of that.

Makoto would never claim they were alone, they all blamed him, just as much as he did. Kiyotaka, Hifumi, Leon, they visited on occasion, not as much as the others, not that he felt the bitter sting of their loss any less.

He should have noticed the way Hifumi was breaking down, the longer they stayed, the lessening grip on reality. Yet he didn't, he spent less time with Hifumi than any other member of his class, and that was something he could have, no should have changed.

As Hifumi broke down, his reality became incomprehensible, a merge of his stories, his adoration of all things 2D, and utter despair of not having his crutch. He supposed Alter Ego had been the boy's tipping point, nobody there to ground him, he fell into the trap of viewing Alter Ego as a living, breathing person, and refused to let go.

Asahina suggesting they use the AI, sophisticated as it was to break down Monokuma, was the final nail in both of their coffins. She had become a threat to the only thing keeping Hifumi's fragile hold on his own sanity, and it took more than just the pair down with him. Kiyotaka was just an unfortunate accident to make everything worse.

Long after Asahina had lost her life, after Hifumi had bloodied his hands, Kiyotaka found him. If Makoto had known, if he had been there to stop him, he'd still be here. He could have stopped their fight, talked them down, Hifumi would never have fallen, and Kiyotaka wouldn't have faced execution.

The moral compass that man possessed would never have allowed him to let it lie. A simple confrontation to stop Hifumi from doing what he didn't know had already been done. It was far too late, and Hifumi was far too gone.

Makoto may not know exactly how it happened, but he certainly knew the outcome, a single fall down a staircase, the wrong landing on a bannister, and an execution of a man who hadn't intended any harm. Three lives lost because he wasn't there when he needed to be.

Toko was always the one who found humor in that, despite Makoto finding none. She always found the death of a friend funny, well not Toko precisely. Her crippling case of a split personality found twisted enjoyment in it, or Makoto imagined she did. Her hands weren't clean of blood, and she didn't think twice about reminding him that he had stained his own with hers.

If he had just been more understanding, pushed harder for Chihiro to trust him. If he had just truly befriended the scared boy, she never would have had such an easy target. If he had been able to show that their secrets were always safe, Toko would never have sunk into herself further than ever, her other self never would have been let free.

Toko finding out that her perfect prey was right in front of her, no longer in control? It was a spark in the powder keg, and she was never coming back from the explosion that ensued. No, he had failed them, and they paid the ultimate price for it.

Yet still, they never hurt the worst, no they never could. While he had believed he could have done more, he knew that in truth, it was always a pipe dream. Blaming himself for what was mostly out of his control.

They weren't. That was his failure, the trump card of his nightmares. Whenever he saw that fiery red hair, or heard that sickeningly sweet laugh, that was when it hurt the most. Why shouldn't it? It was the first of his many failures, but more than that it was the only one that he knew he could have done more.

Yes, Sayaka Maizono was his biggest regret, his biggest failure, his most painful memory. The videos were such a simple motive, yet they were the most effective. He remembered it clear as day, holding her in his arms as she shed every tear she could, and he didn't even say anything that made it better, not truly.

Yet he didn't pay for that failure, Leon took on that debt.

If Makoto had stayed with Sayaka that night, neither of them would have been hurt, they'd be safe. He knew she was scared and he left her, yet that wasn't what truly sealed their fates.

No, it was still Sayaka's plan. He believed he'd helped her, but he should have known better. He should have known from the way she spoke that she was lying to him. Of course he didn't, he was too blind to the truth, he cared too much, trusted with too much, and left as she had asked.

Their fate was that which haunted him the most. The ring of a doorbell, a plan set in motion, a shower to dread cleansing himself in.

He could never truly know what happened that night. He could deduce, extrapolate, hope, imagine, fear- but never really know.

Still, he’d seen the scene in his nightmares so frequently he could almost believe it was undeniable truth.

Sayaka’s fear, her guilt, her resolve as she played him for a fool, planning to make him take the fall for him.

Was it relief she felt when Makoto agreed to switch rooms? Or maybe resignation?

And when she wrote those words, invited Leon to his room- did she know she was starting the Killing Game? Did she care?

She could’ve stopped there, couldn’t she? Could’ve tore the letter to shreds and flushed it down the toilet in the morning, and no one would’ve known.

Or maybe the moment she began writing, she had already chosen her path.

Maybe it was the moment she met Makoto deep into the night.

Maybe it was the moment the Killing Game rules were announced.

Makoto couldn’t know. He would never be able to know. That was the cruel finality of death.

Still, the thoughts haunted him, and nightmares regarding Sayaka, not to mention all of his other friends plagued him.

But this wasn’t a nightmare.

This was reality.

A cruel trick, a tragedy repeating itself right in front of his eyes.

Makoto stared unseeingly at the monitor as Nagito walked away from the Ultimate Impostor’s cabin, having just slipped a note under his door, an hour before the morning announcement.

His fingers felt numb as he gripped the desk in front of him like a buoy, the only thing stopping him from falling off his chair and drowning in a sea of despair.

“Makoto. Breathe.” Celeste said next to him, her hand digging into the flesh of his arm, and Makoto’s lungs felt like they would explode as he breathed in shakily.

“Wh-What-” Makoto’s voice broke for a moment, and he cleared his throat. “What does the letter say?”

Celeste paused for a moment, hesitating, before navigating the cameras, though her hand never left him, for which he was thankful. He needed the anchor, desperately.

Celeste found the Impostor’s room camera, and paused again.

“Celeste?”

She grit her teeth.

“‘Be careful. The first kill will happen tonight. Someone will definitely kill someone.’”

Makoto could almost smell the faint smell of lavender in the air, and for a moment, he was back on those trial grounds, listening to Kyoko explain Sayaka’s plan.

Celeste’s nails bit into his flesh through his suit.

No. No, he couldn’t allow this to happen.

Numbly, he navigated the drives, and found the Pacification Program folder once more, only to pause when Celeste pulled at him.

His eyes met hers, only to come face-to-face with her full trust, and Makoto couldn’t help but relax, just a little bit.

She didn’t say anything. Only nodded, once, seriously, which Makoto returned, first tiredly, but then resolved.

No, he would stop this Killing Game from starting. He had to.

His free hand left the desk, and instead settled on Celeste’s own hand, feeling her cold fingers under his.

“I can't let this happen.” She hadn't questioned him, but he provided an answer anyway.

“I would never suggest you did, I know better than that. Always the noble knight.” Her soft tone was a warming comfort he needed, even if only a few words.

With a tightened determination settling in his chest, he drew his eyes back to the computer screen. The debate they could have had about this decision was solved before it ever truly began.

He wouldn’t allow Nagito to kickstart the Killing Game. He wouldn’t allow anyone to do so.

And when he opened the Pacification Program, it was with resolve and hope bolstering his heart.

#thelewdpokemanik #densesindealer #danganronpa18 #Makoto Naegi18

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