killersmash

[killersmash]

Ultimate Despair

Hushed whispers amongst the front of house staff began to circulate as their latest guest stepped unassumingly through the door, both from the shock of recognizing a famed athlete-turned-television-star, and from the manner in which he trudged as if the leader of his own requiem march. Had he arrived for a meal and a moment’s respite, or to attend a funeral? His somber countenance suggested the latter, but that need for fulfillment defiantly shone through his eyes, perhaps against his own will. Teruteru had only the briefest moment to size up the diminutive man, but he knew that needy, hungry gaze all too well; a gaze equally hungry for sustenance both tangible and intangible, he supposed.

The waitress wordlessly received his order, and with an affirmative nod, presented it to Teruteru, who curiously peeked out of his station and into the dining room. So the rumors were true – the former tennis star, Ryoma Hoshi, now an inmate on death row, wanted something to eat. The chef’s heart ached for the man. To be subject to such passionless, soulless, clinical prison food, with nary a comforting hand or a gentle embrace to warm him – it was worse than hell. All of the unspeakable horrors he had witnessed as a member of Ultimate Despair paled in comparison to the unimaginable thought of someone in such a dire state of neglect.

“He requests you choose what you think is best,” the waitress said. It wasn’t a particularly extraordinary request; Teruteru loved surprising his customers with his personal picks or a new recipe he was eager to present. However, given the flat tone in which the waitress delivered the order to him, Teruteru believed the man was under the impression this meal was to be his last. He shook his head, chuckling. He knew the ghastly reputation of his restaurant preceded him despite all his efforts to prove he had become a changed man who no longer walked the path of despair. Nonetheless, like a conductor commanding his well-practiced orchestra, his hands began to move effortlessly over his ingredients as he prepared them with a delicate finesse. He cherished his ingredients the same way a painter loves their brush and palette, and his dishes were as much a symphony of flavor as they were a melody of visual delight.

For someone who had long forgotten the comforts of home and a loving touch, there was no greater match – his mother’s famed nikujaga, meticulously perfected by the graces of a three Michelin star chef. Teruteru deigned to deliver the meal to Hoshi personally. With an eager grin on his face and a softness to his eyes that defied his despair-worn demeanor, he presented the meal in his characteristic boisterous manner.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Had I known I’d be in the presence of someone of yer renown I’d’ve come out to greet’cha personally,” Teruteru remarked, as he sat the bowl down in front of his guest. “‘s one o’ my fav’rite things to serve folks, y’know. My mama’s recipe. Though…I’ve stopped servin’ meat. It’s too, uh…it’s too ‘spensive these days, so I hope y’ain’t mind seafood in its place.”

Looked exactly like everyone had said.  Clothes of quality and the passionate exuberance of superiority to those around him. Should have expected nothing less, really. Crusty cackles leave his throat from a gritted frown- only a little, they’re drowned out as quick as they come, at the loathly revelation that he’s in the presence of someone that respects him. Hoshi’s stomach churns at the thought. To people that have maimed and tortured countless of innocent lives, cooked and played with their bodies as if it meant nothing, of course he’d be considered almost a similar figure worth to an idol to them. Not that any could compare to Ultimate Despair herself, but that’s a mercy he’d love to keep.  It looks like his purpose may not be achieved here after all. 

....The food itself looks delightful. It smells wonderful. He hates all of it.  Even at the mercy that he’s not being served parts of the human body to his knowledge, but he can live the rest of his short life in denial and add it to the many regrets he holds in his heart, such sentimentality is merely a lost cause to placate what could never be. Clasping his hands in light prayer, making his quick dues of humility before eating with soft-spoken words;  “Thank you for the meal.” He’s kept his manners before now, it’s better to be formal for the grave. 

When chopsticks soon grasp a potato at random and popped into Hoshi’s maw, it’s the cruel realization at such a heartless punchline to his expense. The taste was just as much- better even, than he could have imagined it to be. The potato soft and melts into his mouth without a problem, warmth and comfort that had been missing long before the tragedy held the world in such a miserable state. A feeling that often rested with him despite how often he wished to escape its throes:  Nostalgia. 

Lips press into a fine line, staring intently down at the meal that could have been cooked by his own loved ones had he not seen the chef himself. What a damn cruel joke. Another sip of water, it burns less harsh than the guilty bile in his throat. He deserves nothing of this caliber. No wonder such a meal was given to him by a member of Despair. A deep breath, and he eats the rest of the meal without emotional qualms to hold him back so openly.   It tastes wonderful. All of it, really. Although unconventional in the use of seafood, the fatty selections mend wonderfully into the varied selection of vegetables to make up for the unusual combination. Carrots are steeped with care and skill, onions practically drip with affection from a fine hand and delectable broth. The green beans provide a well-needed crunch, refreshing with noodles that feel hand-made.

He finishes fast, always better to eat food quickly- wastes less time behind the eyes of a guards or executioners. The water follows right after, cool and refreshing after such a warm meal that leaves him satisfied enough in his stewing misery. Chopsticks are placed upon the napkin next to the table, dishes displayed in front from usual routine. If the world were ever to return to normalcy, it’s better to be prepared for the lifestyle ahead. Hands clasp together on the table, and he takes a moment to think of what proper words for the dead he can say before he’s dissected. While empty, the bowl is a fine thing to look at while contemplating his thoughts.

“....The meal was wonderful. One of the best I’ve ever had.” A deep breath, gather your resolve and commit to the very end. You owe it to them. “But I will not accept your proposal. I’d rather be killed than become one of the Remnants. I’ll take my punishment accordingly.” Eyes finally turn to face the man who will execute the Ultimate Prisoner. Passionate and enflamed, desire even- craving for an ending which Hoshi envisions so brightly he can’t help but bring forth a smile that had been lost for years. “I’ll walk to the back to be executed appropriately. ” 

[killersmash]

Ristorante Hanamura.

There’s a layer of humor almost, in seeing such a place among the cindered air and crumbled buildings. A place that holds such dignity and high class atop the blood spilled of hundreds of innocent people to achieve. Fitting for someone like him, who has done nothing but take advantage of the unfortunate even before the Tragedy and slaughter, to be rewarded before his untimely demise. The irony in knowing someone such as himself will be entering a place like this almost makes him want to laugh. All he can manage is hacking phlegm into the fountain up front.

Hoshi takes a minute to steel his resolve, button his shirt at least a little bit (although it doesn’t do much, it’s still stained with blood, rust and whatever else) and take a deep breath. This was it then. He was going to enter, and he was going to die. There’s hesitation, fear; but it’s swallowed down under feelings of scorn. He was sure everyone that had survived the Killing Game would rather he killed himself anyways. It was the least he could do for wasting their time on someone like him, for a world that never mattered. He wishes he could go back to the past and spare them the time, but the least he can do now is make sure he doesn’t take anymore in the future. Even if this failed, if who he thought was here wasn’t after all, he would find a way to pay his dues to everyone he’d killed. With one last deep breath in ashy air, he walks within the restaurant. 

....And he’s almost a bit shocked by how nice it is.  That sounded harsh. While not in the best of shape, this place had running water and a somewhat stable infrastructure from even the outside- that’s quite heavenly compared to most of Japan at this rate. A part of the prisoner wants to turn back, the burning desire in him like there always has been to run away, yet he stays. A woman walks up, quite less brutally damaged and threatening than he had figured, as she leads him to a table and leaves a menu in his spot. 

Such formality. Maybe he does this with everyone before killing them.  At least he gets to have his last meal before death. Might as well go all the way, yes? How horribly selfish of him to think such but surely he can embrace a little of life before he likely gets his head chopped off or some other horrid form of death from kitchen equipment. The waitress comes back with water (how pure, it feels almost like a sick joke but it’s real and clean) that burns his throat when he swallows. It’s foreign. Undeserved. It makes him heavy with stones in his heart. 

“....I’m not picky.” It’s been so long since he’s spoken anything aloud, his voice is hoarse and crackles lightly. “Please let the chef pick what he thinks is best.” Maybe if he’s lucky the Despair will just come out and kill him now.

@cooking-with-despair​

[killersmash]

Greetings everyone!  In Our Hearts, a digital Danganronpa Charity Fanzine, is on our Interest Check!  In Our Hearts is a zine dedicated to unpopular characters in the 3 mainline Danganronpa games! Welcome to artists and writers alike! 

If you’re interested, please fill out our Interest Check! We need your input! Check out our Tumblr or our Carrd for more info!

Thank you for reading! 

[killersmash]

Momota

Guys like Hoshi don’t really click for Kaito. Loners, cynical bastards. But the first and most important skills for astronauts is communication - and it’s especially important for those he doesn’t understand. So he’s going to make an effort. 

First, he nabs some pastries from the kitchen - who can say no to pastries? - then wanders until he finds Hoshi on his own, predictably. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” Kaito greets, voice cheerful. “Brought you this, they’re killer.” The words don’t, exactly, occur to him before it’s too late, and even then it really doesn’t properly dawn on him. Instead, he simply offers the pastry. “Tojo-san is really some kind of witch or something.” Without asking, Kaito sits on the bench across from his classmate, making himself comfortable in his space. 

Simple times for relaxation were something Hoshi previously thought were nothing more than dreams never to be within his reach. Life surprised him in many ways however, so while this freedom was nothing more than temporary, would it be wrong to want to indulge a little?  Most likely, but he already knew that. 

Momota’s presence was enough to already damper the hopes for a quiet day Hoshi had in mind, but the misguided tongue leaves nothing but a rotten burn in the prisoners throat. The pastry is accepted without complaint, lest he deal with arguing that he’d rather not put up with, even if there’s no effort to eat it. 

“...Don’t you have anything better to do than talking with a murderer?”

[killersmash]

Weird woman .

“ are you sitting ? “ sei’s head gently lulls slightly, not wanting to bother the other too much. she holds her moonblast closely, free eye switching around the bar. usually, she would speak with jill or stella – but stella was not here, and jill seemed to have her hands full with dorothy and betty hitting her with the one two combo. 

“ may i sit with ? if its not too much of a bother. “ usually she wouldn’t bother anyone, especially with so many open seats – but something drew her. maybe the old combat medic in her that could tell that this was someone that needed someone.

Her words draw Hoshi from his own inner contemplation. It was hard to say for sure, but the feeling of sugar on his tongue made it just a bit easier to be swallowed by the world around him. Much easier to ignore your feelings and melt away from life, watching the earth from afar as if he had never existed within it from the very beginning. While he could never truly remove the stain that was his choices from the world around him, a man could dream. ..Now he wasn’t quite sure if his drink was really alcohol-free like advertised. 

It takes a bit to remember that he still has yet to respond to what she’s said. Luckily, she repeats herself without him even having to ask. “....You can sit here.” The killer would bring himself to apologize, but bringing in such pointless conflicts would just be a waste of everyone’s time. Much like how what injured her was none of his business either; not his place to pry or bother her. From the way she looked, it wouldn’t be surprising if others had tried to fawn over her status. Didn’t need anything like that from him. Instead, he diverted his attention to the drink before him, stirring it with loose interest at best in perhaps a vague hope he could reclaim that dream-like status from before. Maybe that’s why the drink was called what it was.

[killersmash]

it’s one of my fav v3 boys’ birthday!! give him the appreciation he deserves!!

[killersmash]

Happy birthday Hoshi-kun !

On that note, yes! I am accepting Birthday Asks for today and tomorrow!  Please feel free to send some if you’d want to! 

And if you wanted to plot smth as well, I’d be down for that too!

[killersmash]

Happy birthday Hoshi-kun !

On that note, yes! I am accepting Birthday Asks for today and tomorrow!  Please feel free to send some if you’d want to! 

And if you wanted to plot smth as well, I’d be down for that too!

[killersmash]

Happy Birthday to my favorite DR character! Hoshi is an absolute delight to RP, and I’m just... so happy that he was created. I really am.  Pictures of my Hoshi collection from my Twitter!

[killersmash]

cognitive assessment

alcoholism . amnesia . anxiety . appetite loss . binge eating . co-dependence . c-ptsd . cynicism . defensiveness . denial . depersonalisation . depression . derealisation . devaluation. displacement . dissociation . drug abuse . dysphoria . emotional detachment . flashbacks . flat affect . guilt . hallucinations . hypersomnia . hypervigilance . hypochondria . idealisation . insomnia . intellectualisation . introjection . isolation . low self-esteem . narcissism . night terrors . obsessive compulsion . panic attacks . passive aggression . paranoia . phobias . projection . psychosis . ptsd . rationalisation . regression . repression . restrictive eating . risky sex . self-harm . somatization . splitting . stress-eating . sublimation . suicidal ideation . sleepwalking . suppression . thousand-yard stare . triggers . trust issues . violence . whiplash temper

[killersmash]

[killersmash]

Friendly reminder that Hoshi has literally no hobbies, and the only things he can talk about in-game in any sort of depth is death, prison, his dead loved ones or his many traumas. 

[killersmash]

Saihara .

the moment hoshi-kun gives you the go-ahead, a twinge of guilt pierces your neck. the lump in your throat should have dissolved by now. there’s no need to worry in the first place –– he seems okay with you taking the leaf off. fingers dive onto the edges of your hospital gown, freshly manicured nails digging into the black & white hem. whether it’s shinichi’s emotions bleeding into your personality or just your own feelings poisoning your actions, you’ve really got your work cut out for you, as the therapists always said. people are always a work in progress –– a canvas that’s constantly shifting colors & patterns with every change in life. but the way they said it cuts deep, like there’s something wrong with you that will never be fixed.

with a sharp exhale, you pluck the golden leaf from his head & toss it over your shoulder. as it drifts in the chilly breeze, the pain slowly dissipates, leaving your throat as clear as a highway at 4 am. 

a sigh whistles past your lips, which is promptly whisked away by the breeze. ❝ don’t worry… ‘ you hypocrite, how dare you give someone advice that’s meant for yourself. ignoring the thought, your gaze drifts toward the sky, lips blooming into a slight smile. ❝ sometimes, it’s nice to just… relax for a bit. get away from everything… ‘ with hoshi-kun, there’s no need to worry about filling the air with pointless small talk. ( then again, there’s really no point in doing that in the first place. not with everything you two have been through. ) sometimes, all you wanted is some peace & quiet –– just a blissful void where your thoughts can be washed away by the babbling brook beneath your feet. & to your relief, he’s more than willing to indulge your selfish desires. 

but perhaps the hard flagstones aren’t the most comfortable spot to relax on. if you’re being honest, the stray twigs are starting to dig into your skin. lord knows how hoshi-kun must be feeling right now, with more machines covering his body than skin. you could always go back to your room, but the hospital a/c dries your throat. 

gaze drifts off into the distance, stopping at a hammock swinging lazily between two oak trees. you vaguely remember hoshi-kun’s eyes lighting up when you gave him a hammock in the simulation… perhaps he might be more comfortable over there. ❝ ah, do you want to move to that hammock over there ? it looks like it could fit both of us. but… if you want to stay here, that’s fine too. ‘

Thoughts reminisce on the feeling of fingers tapping lightly into his skull, a soft voice lulling him to security- and it makes Hoshi feel a bit guilty to compare his friend to that of the deceased. Or, arguably worse. Yet he holds that moment to his heart regardless, a moment of respite from the animus the world embraced him with so often otherwise. His heart feels a bit lighter, something he’d keep a secret. 

Hearing someone like Saihara say something like that sends the former prisoner into a bit of a tizzy. It went against ideas in his head, notions, expectations and assumptions that he based the world on to feel even a bit of lucidity in his life- but that’s selfish. Hypocritical. How can he do that to others when accepting no such thing towards himself? Another reminder he needs to be scrubbed clean entirely, remove himself from everything and everyone lest he be a bigger burden on them more than he already is. Fear leaves disquiet in it’s wake. It’s silent as always. Maybe if he goes to sleep, he won’t wake up. Not a bad idea for someone as awful as him. He should Hold it. Relax. There’s ground beneath you, rough against your skin. Plastic in your hands. They both smell of a hospital room, but Saihara seems a bit nicer in comparison. A lot better at self care. Colors, you’re outside and in the crisp air with a friend.  And thankfully, that cavalcade of anxiety fades away into obscurity, ghosts of the past leaving for perhaps just a while of peace. 

A head turns to focus properly on Saihara’s words, always so good at keeping a straight face when you’re distressed Hoshi-kun, it’s a real shame that the prison guards don’t care, light smiles even prove to crack at dry lips and leave them pained and bleeding ever slightly past sunken eyes furrowed with concern. “...Are you sure? I.... wouldn’t want to be a burden with...” loose gestures to his own body fill the small gaps to be corrected. “...All my equipment.”  It was a miracle anyone would want to spend time with him.

Yet the idea has him excited. Very much so, despite his worried eyes lie a bright smile peeking past lips and hands rubbing one another verbose glee at the concept. Safety was something he wished he could feel as often. Should he really pass up an opportunity such as this? He thinks not. “...But, if you would want to, I’d be more than happy to.” Elated even by the concept, but that’s stupid to say out loud. 

Callous fingers try to rub away the lingering desires of sleep for just a bit longer. Should turn that machine on, he thinks, but he gives up before he even really tries to. While almost a bit giddy at the concept of having a single bit of rest free from plagues of nightmares or insomnia spells, he refused to do anything without confirmation. Because he was a coward. He hated taking initiative- too afraid to try. Thoughts are swallowed with air, back cracking as Hoshi sits himself up in preparation. Takes too long to do anything anymore. It’s so sad to think about. So he doesn’t. He’d rather stare at the sky and think about nothing.

[killersmash]

“The best way to enjoy Orange Juice, is with pulp.”

[killersmash]

@feebledetective:   1, 4, 10 and 12 if you haven't answer em already!! UwU

Ask Saishii About Hoshi .

1 .  Everything. KHksskh.. But if I had to pick one in particular, it’s how he’s lost his whole family tbh. And not just like only his parents, it’s literally everyone. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins... that kinda thought is frankly? Pretty terrifying. I don’t know how I would live through something like that, 

4 . “ Make your life known. “

10 .  Everything. But in all seriousness, there’s a lot of him that I like! His design slaps, his writing is great, his voice is lovely, his personality?? Amazing. Real talk, I could ramble a lot about why I love Hoshi so much, but there are a lot of positives and very few negatives.  I have a google doc here if you’d be interested in that long answer.

12 .  His refusal to just... accept things. It’s a depressing trait definitely, and sometimes even an irritating one, but it’s also pretty comical trying to see how many hoops this man will go through for even the simplest of things. You wanna hang out with him? Gotta spend 10 minutes in a debate because in fact, you unironically love his company and just wanna spend time with him even though he’s a murderer and a bad person and ya ya ya. This man would deadass call you daft for trying to treat him like a human being, and it’s very miserable to think about.... but also pretty funny from just how absurd it sounds.

[killersmash]

@ctrlaltkibo:  Would you like your muse as a person if you met them in real life?

Ask Saishii About Hoshi .

Yeah, I would! Hoshi’s the kinda guy that you could sit next to in public and just vibe with, and if he talked, besides like very minor things, I would absolutely love to be there for it. Kinda reminds me of a friend I had in high school tbh, although I would call Hoshi more somber compared to just calm and soft spoken.

The issue is less 'if I would like him’ and more ‘if he would like me’, because I’m half deaf and have a really loud talking voice because of it. I try to keep it in control, buuuuuut.... yeah. Don’t think Hoshi would be down for my yelling lol.

[killersmash]

Wow the ask-box really is just mega horrible huh.