#almost every time this happened nanami would be there to comfort her but eventually it ruined him too

[itadore-you]

every day I think abt this one fic I used to follow like the gospel from 2020 WRITERMILK WHO WROTE FUCKTOY ON WATTPAD U MADE ME WHO I AM U GOT ME INTO FANFICTION I LOVE YOU

[ponderingmoonlight]

hi, <3

I've been working for a week now, so I don't have time to send you ideas, but there are SO MANY in my head.😭😭😭 I do not know what to do!!!I think you've already guessed that I'm in love with Nanami's dad!! He's so cute as the father figure.Imagine that Kento and his wife had their first child (a girl) and when Kento comes home to his daughter and wife, he sees that his daughter is wearing a small bodysuit with the text “I love daddy” and Nanami just looks and is touched. DADNANAMIDADNANAMIDADNANAMI🤤🫦

Okay I cried my eyes out while writing this and the cover sent me over the edge 😭 But THANK YOU SO MUCH for that precious request my love, let me know what you think <3

Nanami's reaction to his daughter wearing a jumper saying "I love daddy"

Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x fem!daughter

Word Count: 1,3k

Synopsis: After the incidents of Shibuya and his wife getting severely injured, Nanami is relieved to know his new family safe and sound. A little suprise from his precious wife seems to be enough to make a grown man cry in joy though...

Warnings: cuteness overload, this had me balling in the best way, might be the comfort you need this is canon

This is like a spin-off to the "Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife" fic - just click on it to read it first!

To say the last few months were a trip to heaven and hell at the same time would be an understatement. Despite the horror the Shibuya incident caused, even though the attack of Haruta left both you and your precious baby to risk, you somehow made it all out alive. Kento, you and the little angel of daughter you gave birth to exactly one month after Shibuya.

“I’ll leave in five minutes, regardless of what you have to tell me afterwards”, he sends towards the man in front of him who is asking him for the hundredth time about the Shibuya incident.

Finally, this way too long day is over. A day without seeing you the whole time, a day without his little one by his side. Due to the fact that delivering your baby girl was rather difficult after the severe wound wasn’t healed yet, Shoko prescribed strict bed rest for you within the next few months. You are barely able to stand up on your own, let alone go to the toilet. Most of the time you lay on the couch with your daughter by your side, watching your favourite show on TV until you greet him with the brightest of smiles.

But even though every minor step causes you visible pain and it’s hard for you to be on your own, you insisted on him continuing doing his job. After all, somebody has to take care of poor Yuji when you���re not around. And since Gojo is gone, whole Jujutsu High seems to be an endless mess. Yes, somehow you did eventually convince him of leaving you every single morning. Even though he hates letting go of you after what happened not long ago.

“I will leave now”, he announces before grabbing his suitcase and walking away without waiting for an answer.

In the meantime, it’s hard for you to sit still.

“Come on angel, please hold still for a second. We just need leg number one, leg number two, and…There you go!”

Your eyes almost overflow with joy, just staring at the tiny jumper your daughter wears makes you feel emotional all over again. Kento worked so much these last weeks, making sure that especially Yuji feels better after all those things that happened to him during Shibuya. And the fact that you’ve got severely injured…You’ll never forget the look of horror on his face when you collapsed into his arms, Shoko making it just in time before everything went black. For the split of a second you thought everything is over, that this will be the last time you’ve seen your husband. Oh, how you begged Shoko to save the life of your unborn child instead of yours, how you held onto Kento’s hand for dear life.

But seeing that bundle of joy laying in front of you, giggling happily while kicking her tiny feet in her brand-new jumper…You have to read the words all over again, the simple writing that says “I love daddy”. You were mindlessly scrolling through baby stuff when it caught your attention, thinking about how your beloved husband would react to it. There was absolutely no way out of ordering it.

“Daddy will love to see you in this.”

Just the thought of how Kento will react makes you kick your feet too, smiling down at your giggling daughter. Even though every little movement sends a wave of pain through your entire body, you try to stay as positive as possible. The discomfort will go away eventually, but the joy Kento has gifted you with will stay forever.

You can sense him before he put the key into the lock right away, heart pounding so hard that it feels like jumping out of your body.

“This is out time angel”, you whisper into your daughter’s tiny ear before sitting up and staring at the door in sheer excitement.

Nanami’s heart skips a beat when seeing you, looking so adorable dressed in his way too big t-shirt and sweatpants.

“What are you smiling about, sweetheart?”

The second he lays his eyes on your flawless face decorated with that breath-taking smile, he is lost all over again. But by now it’s not only you who awaits him. No, next to you curled up on the couch lays the little bundle of joy that makes his happiness complete.

“I’m just so glad your back! How-ah…”

A minor groan escapes your lips as you try to sit up straight, Kento instantly rushing to your side.

“Hey, think about what Shoko said. No need to rush, we have the whole evening for ourselves, darling”, he gently speaks out, his hands caressing your back moderately.

He hasn’t seen it yet, the blanket on top of your daughter hiding the jumper very well from him. But you can’t contain your excitement any longer. For a moment, you’ll have to put your aching aside.

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to show you…”

Your husband tilts his head to the side, a tender smile creeping up his face before he can stop it. You look so utterly excited that he can’t help but wonder what you mean.

“I wonder what leaves you this excited.”

“Well, there aren’t many things apart from you that get me excited”, you reply with a sly grin.

“But maybe you should take a closer look at your daughter.”

Your heartbeat picks up even more as soon as he looks at your precious little angel, hand gently brushing over her tiny cheek. Slowly, he lifts her off the couch, blanket falling down and revealing her new jumper. You hold your breath, your husband’s eyes locked onto her body.

“I love daddy”, he reads out loud.

His smile widens, eyes turning glossy in pure admiration. Oh, how much he adores you, how much he loves you in every single way. Why does he suddenly turn this emotional? Why does the sheer sight of his daughter with a jumper saying “I love daddy” make him tear up? The last months were so rough on him, it was never granted that he’ll be able to hold his daughter like this while you sit next to him. For a few horrible seconds, he thought he lost you both.

But now you’re here. And you really think that he’s a good dad.

“Words can’t express how much that means to me…”, he mumbles, pressing his daughter against his chest and closing his eyes.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you cry love”, you instantly reply while getting up from the couch way too quickly.

Your husband catches you just in time before you fall back onto the couch, his free hand wrapped tightly around your waist while his daughter rests against his shoulder.

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me, (y/n). And to top it all off, you gifted me this beautiful daughter. You are so strong, I am so proud of everything you have done these last few months.”

His words his you in your feelings with full force. Despite the fact that you are a strong and composed woman, tears start to stream down your face like a waterfall while your gaze never leaves his. God, how much you love that man, how thankful you are for the fact that he survived. And for the bundle of joy that rests against his shoulder. You never thought your life would turn out like this, eventually. A snack of a husband holding you tightly in one hand while carrying your daughter with the other.

“I love you, Kento Nanami. That jumper says nothing but the truth”, you hush lightly.

Oh, Kento will definitely make sure of that.

“I love you too, sweetheart. And you, my little angel.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

[nyxwanderland]

♡ those eyes

pairing → gojo satoru x reader genre → fluff warnings ��� none word count → 1429

satoru always looked at someone with so much love in his eyes that everyone in the room would know where he was giving all of his attention—a person so important that he would pause whatever he'd be doing and just stare at them. 

it was as if time stood still whenever satoru laid his eyes on this special someone. his gaze was filled with an indescribable tenderness, leaving no doubt about the depth of his affection.

and that person was you.

sure, it annoyed the hell out of nanami, shoko and his students, but he would never stop gazing at the way you work, the way you teach the students with enthusiasm, the way you devour your lunch after a tiring training session—just anything you do left him staring at you in awe. 

everyone present knew how lovestruck he was, except for you.

you simply never thought of the possibility that he could have feelings for you, never realizing the way his eyes lit up whenever you entered the room or how he would always find an excuse to be near you. 

you were too oblivious to notice the way his gaze lingered on you or the way his voice would soften whenever he spoke to you, despite being one of his closest friends since high school. you always assumed that his actions were simply friendly gestures, never suspecting that his affection ran deeper than that. however, you did wonder whether those moments were something more about his constant presence in your life.

his heart yearned for a chance to express his love and admiration for you, but fear held him back from confessing his true feelings. 

satoru was simply afraid of taking the risk and potentially jeopardizing your friendship. the fear of losing you as a friend outweighed any potential romantic outcome, so he chose to bury his own feelings deep within, hoping they would eventually fade away. 

unfortunately for him, they never did.

"y/n, are you done yet~?" he whined as he poked his head into the classroom, watching you teach the first-years. 

you sighed in frustration and turned to face satoru with a frown. "how many times do i have to tell you to never interrupt my class?," you replied. "i'm almost done, so wait for me."

"you have all the time to spend with y/n-sensei after class," nobara said, smirking at the white-haired male. " you don't have to worry about us stealing her from you."

"oi!" satoru cried out, flustered at her comment. he was glad that he had his blindfold on, or you would have witnessed his reddened ears. he turned to you. "i'll be waiting, 'kay?"

you nodded, smiling as your heart skipped a beat out of the blue. he may be insufferable at times, but there was always a part of you that couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

☆

you and satoru sat in a park under a tree , enjoying the shade and the gentle breeze. you bought some food on the way before arriving there. this was a normal routine for the two of you—a simple yet comforting way to spend time together. it was times like this when he would remove his blindfold and become relaxed. he always felt at ease with you around.

"how was your day?" you asked. it was a habit of yours to check in with satoru at the end of every day, ever since the fateful day happened when one of your best friends left.

"mm, it was alright," he replied with his mouth stuffed with a chocolate chip muffin. swallowing his food, he continued while trailing off in the end, "you were too busy today, so i... missed you." 

ignoring the blush that crept on your cheeks, you nonchalantly said as you reached for a napkin in your pocket, "is that so?"

as you spoke, you leaned towards him to wipe off the crumbs that stuck to his cheek, gradually making your way towards the corner of his lips—a gesture that you didn't realize you were doing. satoru didn't mind, of course; he was too distracted by the sudden close proximity between you and him, and your lips—

"i guess i didn't realize how much i missed you too," you admitted softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. your eyes were still glued to his face.

once again, his already endearing gaze softened even more. he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. 

you finally locked your eyes with his gorgeous blue ones. it wasn't the first time you realized it, but the way he looked at you made your heart beat erratically. it made you feel nervous and excited all at once. you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way about you, if he could hear the rapid thumping of your heart. the intensity of his gaze made it hard to breathe, but you couldn't tear your eyes away, wanting to savor every moment of this connection between you. 

unable to maintain eye contact any longer, you looked away as heat rushed to your cheeks, betraying the effect he had on you. "why do you look at me with those eyes...?" 

you finally said it. the question you were dying to ask. 

satoru knew exactly what you were talking about, yet he said, "what eyes?"

you looked at him again, only to see him staring at you so gently as if you'd break apart if he hardened his gaze just a bit. you cleared your throat. "those eyes. like, right now."

"i look at you like this all the time," he said as casually as he could although his mind was going crazy. it was as if he was trying to protect himself from getting too close, yet his eyes betrayed his true emotions. "the same goes for everybody."

"no, it's different. it feels like you're looking at me as if..."

you stopped. you didn't want to say something that could lead to a worst-case scenario. but satoru prepared himself to say the next words.

"...as if i'm in love with you?"

your eyes widened. you wanted to speak, but your mind was indulged in screaming that all you could say, "huh?" 

he hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. he took a deep breath before finally admitting, "yes, as if I'm in love with you." 

it was a moment you had both secretly hoped for, but now that it was out in the open, the weight of those words hung in the air between you. 

"i-it's fine if you don't feel the same way—"

his sentence was cut short as you held his face and brought him close to connect his lips with yours. in that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away. the kiss spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never fully capture. it was a silent affirmation of the love that had been silently growing between you both. 

you parted away first, worried that he had malfunctioned. you were right.

satoru's face was frozen in shock and as red as a cherry, his eyes wide and unblinking. it took a moment for him to regain his composure, but when he did, a radiant smile spread across his face. it was clear that the kiss had exceeded his wildest expectations.

"so..." he mumbled while twiddling his thumbs and shifting his gaze away from you. he couldn't help but feel nervous with the way you looked at him with those eyes. i guess this is how she felt. 

it was amusing to see him so embarrassed and at a loss for words. you couldn't help but chuckle, finding his shyness endearing. "...does that mean you like me back?"

you laughed, and your voice and smile radiate warmth. "you’re still asking if i feel the same? what do you think that kiss meant?"

satoru's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, and he finally mustered the courage to respond, "i just wanted to be sure. i've never felt this way before." 

you held his hand and placed it on your cheek, yours on top. "and also, i don't just like you. i'm in love with you, satoru." satoru's eyes widened in surprise, his heart pounding in his chest. he had hoped for this moment, but hearing those words from you made it feel surreal. a wave of happiness washed over him as he encircled his arms around you and whispered,

"I love you too, more than words can express." 

☆

my coping mechanism hehe

[artemis32]

Yandere Nanami Kento I

****

A bit shorter than usual :))

I solemnly believe that Nanami is a tea kind of man and I will die on this hill

****

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

****

****

This poor man wants a normal, boring life so badly.

He's so so tired of all the death and loss and despair of the jujutsu world.

And he's so so tired of the dreary 9 to 5, the borderline monotony of the life of non-sorcerers.

I would imagine he struggles a lot with the concept of balance. He works so much, both as a sorcerer and as a salaryman, and he tends to put in more work than is expected of him.

He meets you early one morning, likely on the way to work, or on a mission - or perhaps on one of the rare days he has off.

You're sitting on a park bench the first time he sees you. You've got a takeaway cup in your hands, steam rising up and dispersing into the air.

His first thought is that you look so cute - what with your massive scarf wrapped around your neck, obscuring the lower half of your face.

You pull it down to take a sip of your drink, and he momentarily catches a glimpse of your full face. He sees the way your nose scrunches up when you take a sip of the too hot drink, scorching your tongue.

Fluffy grey earmuffs cover your ears, and he notes that you look a bit like a snowman, what with your think scarf and jacket.

The only part of you that remains visible when you pull your scarf back up is your eyes.

And he thinks to himself that you might have the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen. They're bright and clear, and so full of something close to hope, joy - whatever it is, it's something he's long forgotten.

You look so perfect, almost ethereal sitting here in the freezing morning air amongst the snow and trees.

In his mind, he makes up a small story, an idea of you, of your life, of why you're here.

He thinks, maybe you're an office worker like himself, and you've managed to steal a moment away from your busy schedule to enjoy life.

Maybe you're a student at the nearby University, taking a break, a short morning stroll before a day full of studying.

Perhaps you're neither. He plays with the idea for a moment. It's ridiculous, nearly impossible, but perhaps you're like him.

A jujutsu sorcerer.

And perhaps - unlike him - you managed to get out of the life he so despised. You were taking the opportunity you'd been given.

You had escaped, and now you were enjoying the life yout thought you'd never have, the life you never thought you'd live long enough to enjoy.

Somewhere along the line, he made up his mind.

You're perfect. You're beautiful, and clearly you appreciate life for what it is, and for what it could be.

He thinks about approaching you, about sitting down next to you and introducing himself.

But before he can, you stand up and begin walking away.

And as much as it pains him, he let's you. He makes no move to follow you.

What would I have done? Asked her about her life? No, that's an unusual thing for a stranger to ask out of the blue. It's better this way.

With that final thought, he stands and heads back home, thinking about his next mission, about what he wants for dinner - anything but you.

****

Six weeks later, he and Itadori walk down an empty street in some forgotten corner of the Kanagawa Prefecture, looking for a recognisable street after getting lost no less than three hours prior.

They eventually decide to enter a café across the street, waiting instead for Ijichi to find them.

The café is warm and well lit, with a few people scattered throughout the small space. They make their way to the back, settling down at the semi-hidden table.

Itadori orders a large slice of cake, his face lighting up with a grin when it arrives, while Nanami orders a simple cup of tea.

The two enjoy a comfortable silence, disrupted every now and then when Itadori decides to speak up.

Then, the most unlikely thing happens.

The bell above the door rings, echoing throughout the café. Something at the back of his mind urges him to look, and so Nanami looks up and makes direct eye contact with you.

You.

The person he believed he would never see again.

I imagine that he would approach you this time around, not wanting to waste another opportunity.

Just before he and Itadori leave, he stops by your table where you sit with a cup of tea and a muffin, pouring over a thick novel.

You look up as he approaches, recognition flashing in your eyes as you give him a slight smile.

He would introduce himself, tell you about how he recognised you from that morning weeks ago. The two of you would talk for a while, at least until you're interrupted by an enthusiastic Itadori.

He jumps in, immediately asking, "Nanamin, who is this beautiful woman? Is she your girlfriend?"

Both of you flush and you quickly correct him.

Needless to say, you're everything he'd hoped you would be. In fact, you're even better than the image he'd made up in his mind.

You agree to see him again, going against your usual reaction to strangers asking for your personal information. Something about the tired looking blond man draws you in, capturing your attention.

****

Your relationship progresses slowly. Not in a bad way, the two of you enjoy the way things change over time.

He doesn't believe it possible, but he falls even more in love with you.

I don't believe he'd be particularly possessive or hostile in any way, and he definitely wouldn't steal you away from your life. Not when you were the closest thing to normalcy he's ever had.

He'd keep curses away from you and be there as often as his busy schedule allowed. He only hopes you never begin to question his work or erratic lifestyle.

For your sake, you're better off not investigating his life. You wouldn't want to find out exactly what he did for work.

And you definitely don't want to accuse him of anything, calling him crazy when he decides to tell you about the jujitsu world. He wouldn't appreciate that in the slightest.

If your safety is ever threatened by curses - or jujutsu sorcerers - well, he's grown too used to you, too accustomed to your company and affection. He would never willingly give it up, not now that he's accepted his new life.

He'll just have to keep you close. After all, you're safest when you're near him. And he wouldn't mind being closer to you.

It's for the best. You love him don't you?

Then you shouldn't mind being stuck to his side. It's not that he's locking you up for any negative reason. It's for your own protection, and for his peace of mind. Think of it more like him keeping the bad out, away from you.

He loves you, and he wants to keep you safe.

Naturally, you forgive him soon enough, persuaded by his words, everything he says sounding perfectly logical.

You think to yourself, why would I want to leave him? He loves me and I love him. This is what's best for the both of us.

Becoming the perfect housewife is easy, especially when it's for the one you love.

You're his slice of heaven, hidden away where no one can find you. No one but him.

[seijorhi]

To the Wolves

my (first) entry for the Deal With the Devil collab, because i couldn’t resist writing for Yakuza Getou <33

Getou Suguru x Female Reader

TW Extremely dubious consent, coercion, manipulation, threats, implied murder, smut, nsfw

“No. I- I won’t.”

Sitting comfortably on the old, worn couch in your cramped little apartment, Getou raises a single eyebrow, “Oh? Is that so?”

His voice is perfectly pleasant, the smile on his face a touch amused, but you’re not so naive as to believe that the question is anything but a generous offer for you to rethink your reply. A smart person would take it – since the day you’d first arrived home to find him waiting for you, Getou hadn’t so much as laid a finger on you. He had no need for guns or knives, never shouted or bullied you, his reputation more than enough to cow you into submission before he’d even opened his mouth.

Of course, once he had, the simple threats to your friends and family’s lives had made certain that you were more than amenable to his request.

A mutually beneficial arrangement, he’d called it, as if there hadn’t been tears silently streaming down your face, your whole body stiff with fear. 

But that was the world he came from. Violence and ruthlessness, cruelty masquerading as kindness.

By all accounts, someone like you – a lowly admin assistant living a very boring, mundane life – should never have crossed paths with a man like Getou. The irony, of course, being that it was precisely because of your job that he’d been drawn to you in the first place. 

“I-I said no,” you stammer. “I’m not doing it.”

Getou sighs, long, pale fingers idly fixing the cuff of his left sleeve. “I had no idea the lives of your loved ones meant so little to you.”  

“Please, I-” you break off, biting your lip as your hands curl into useless fists at your side, “I can’t. Anything else, I’ll do anything, I swear it, just… please.”

Men like Getou aren’t the type to be swayed by pretty words or tearful pleas, but there’s an unmistakable glimmer of interest that flickers in his eyes at the offer. Casually, he leans forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and regarding you with a smirk. “So you’ll bring me the list of witnesses then?”

The barely audible hitch in your breath is enough to make him chuckle.

“No? How about those surveillance tapes, hm?” Smoothly, he rises to his feet and makes his way towards you. “Careful, little one, first rule of negotiation is knowing when you have something to bargain with. Don’t promise me what you can’t give.”

“Getou–”

He raises a hand and you quickly fall silent. There’s only inches between you two now, Getou’s taller, broader frame looming over yours. He could kill you like this, you realise with panic – reach out and wrap his hands around your throat and snap your pretty little neck before you could so much as scream. The tailored line of his jacket hides the gun he has holstered at his side, but Getou knows you're aware of its presence, have been since the very first time he’d broken into your home and threatened you. 

It’d take him only moments to draw the sidearm, even less for him to pull the trigger.

The walls of your apartment are thin, would your neighbours come if they heard gunfire? Would you, for that matter, if your roles were reversed?

Yet Getou makes no move for his gun, instead reaching for your chin, tilting it up with two curled fingers until you meet his gaze, “You understand, don’t you, that I make one phone call and that charming sister of yours and her fiance meet a very tragic, very untimely end?”

He pauses, waiting until you jerk a quick nod of assent before continuing. “You love them. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with prioritising the ones you love over everybody else.” His voice is gentle, but the words make you shake, dread rising from the pit of your stomach as the pad of his thumb grazes over your bottom lip. 

You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something to that, but even as you try, you can’t summon the words. The by now familiar scent of his cologne tickles your nose and invades your throat, the warmth of his touch burning through your veins. Your own heart hammers like a drumbeat in your chest, every cell in your body screaming danger, but you don’t run, you don’t even flinch.

Getou smiles kindly, and perhaps if you hadn’t seen first hand the aftermath of his handiwork you might be tempted to believe it. His spare hand reaches into his jacket, but instead of the gun you’re expecting, he pulls out his phone, the screen flickering to life with a swipe of his finger. “So tell me, before I make a call you and I both know you don’t want me to make, why you’ve suddenly decided that their lives aren’t worth your compliance?”

Nanami. Your boss’s face flashes to your mind, the odd, fleeting glances he’d sent your way over the past few weeks when he’d thought you weren’t paying attention. Your stomach erupts with butterflies, your cheeks unwittingly warming, but you just shake your head, “If I give you those files, you’ll kill them. You’ll hurt them.”

“Maybe,” he hums, “maybe not. It’s no less than those monkeys deserve, don’t you think?” He spits the word like it’s venom, the twitch in his jaw the only chink in his otherwise effortless composure. “You’re protecting them, even now.”

You make no attempt to defend yourself, terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting him off, but Getou seems entirely unfazed, laughing coldly at your stricken expression.

“Your boss, the one with the perpetual stick up his ass; Nanami,” potent disdain drips from his tone at the name, “Always so morally righteous, sitting up on his high horse. You think he cares for you, that he’ll protect you when all of this comes out? And it will come out eventually,” he says, his smirk widening at the sudden pallor in your face. “At some point there’ll be one too many unfortunate coincidences, and the higher ups will realise that they have a mole in their ranks. Fingers will be pointed of course, but eventually even those idiots will figure it out.”

A knot tightens inside of your chest at his words, constricting until it feels like you can’t breathe. You’re shaking your head, eyes filling with tears, “N-no–”

“Oh, little one,” Getou murmurs, dark eyes drinking in every ounce of your distress. “Surely you realised that they have security cameras covering every inch of your floor? There was no reason to look before, but once they do…” he trails off, letting go of your chin in favour of brushing the back of his knuckles along your cheek. “They’ll throw you to the wolves.”

His voice is soft and cruel, belied by the gentleness of his touch, but it does nothing to quell the rising sense of dread inside of you. You want to believe it’s a lie, another threat meant to scare you into submission, but some deeper part of you recognises the truth in his words. 

Nanami, who’d told you once that there was innocence and there was guilt and very little in between. Nanami, whose office you’d bugged, whose trial only weeks ago you’d all but derailed with a few misplaced documents. You think back to the late nights shared in his office, bowls of ramen and case files scattered across the desk between you. You think of the rare smiles, his oddly dry sense of humour, the pleasant fluttering in your heart–

“You’ll rot in prison long before I do, and there is not a soul among that insipid bunch that would lift a finger to stop that from happening to you.” 

A soft, strangled noise leaves your lips as you fight not to sob, and Getou sighs, the corners of his lips twitching downwards in contrived sympathy. “Say the word and I’ll walk away tonight. I’ll still have to kill your sister – I am a man of my word, you understand – but I promise it’ll be the last you see of me.”

He slides his phone back into the breast pocket of his jacket, taking your face in both of his hands as tears spill down long lashes. “And when they come for you, you can tell them I threatened you, show them what little proof you have – if you have any at all. Maybe it’ll even make a difference,” he says. “But I doubt it.”

Every word is like a knife, slicing away at the raw, bleeding, vulnerable parts of you.

“Please…” It’s weak and desperate, your voice cracked and broken. You don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore; your sister’s life, for Getou’s mercy, or maybe just for him to stop saying such awful things. He must take pity on you though, because he sighs once more, his right thumb sweeping across your wet cheek to brush away silvery tear tracks. 

“I’m not a complete monster, you know. I protect what’s mine.”

And in one breath, everything screeches to a standstill and a trickle of very real fear creeps down your spine. There’s no mistaking his implication, not when he’s holding your face like that, his eyes dark and simmering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“W-what?”

Getou closes the gap between you two, a startled noise leaving your lips as his hips press flush up against you. “Don’t play stupid, sweet thing,” he murmurs, and it sounds like a warning, “It doesn’t suit you.”

One hand slips to your neck, the other curling almost possessively around your waist. There’s no room for you to move, to back away or free yourself. For a moment, neither of you speak, the heavy silence deafening between you.

Does he notice the way your pulse races under his fingertips as they circle your throat, how you’re shaking like a leaf beneath him? Does he want you afraid? A scared little bunny rabbit cowering from the gaping maw of the big, bad wolf? 

Judging from the bulge of his semi-hard cock pressing into the soft flesh of your belly, he’s not entirely unaffected, and for the first time it’s not Getou’s gun or his threats that you’re most afraid of. 

It’s the selfish, twisted want that glitters and glints in those pitiless depths. You’ve never felt so entirely at somebody else’s mercy as you do with Getou now, staring you down like he wants to lay you bare, claim you again and again for all the world to see. And you don’t understand. There’s a thousand and one questions running through your mind, your insides twisted up into knots. 

You know what it is he’s asking of you – though asking feels like a generous word when he can so easily just take – but none of this makes sense, not when he was threatening your family’s lives only minutes ago. 

As if he can sense the turmoil and confusion raging through you, he leans down, his lips ghosting over the outer shell of your ear. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll walk away right now.”

I am a man of my word. 

His earlier statement rings through your head as you search his face for any sign of deception – you find none. But walking away means your sister dies. It means you’re left on your own to fend off the wolves when they find out what you’ve done.

Nanami might believe you. He might even defend you, but you’ve worked in the Prosecutor’s office long enough to know that duress isn’t the bulletproof defence people think it is, and for tangling with the likes of him…

You were screwed the moment he showed up in your living room, this- this is just the coup de grâce. The final damnation.

“Why me?” 

Getou doesn’t answer, but when he draws you into a kiss, his lips moving torturously slow against yours, there’s an edge of… something there, lying hidden just beneath the surface. And it terrifies you, more than his words and his promises ever could.

But when your back’s to the wall, what choice do you really have?

It feels like defeat when he takes you by the hand and leads you into your bedroom, ignoring the uncertain glance you cast over your shoulder towards the living room. You don’t want any of this, but you can pretend that it’s just… business if he fucks you out there.

Not in the bed you sleep in.

It’d be easier, you think, if it was cold and impersonal. If you cried and it stung and the only sounds in the room were flesh hitting flesh, ragged breathing and an occasional rough grunt.

There’s nothing impersonal about the way he watches you strip out of your clothes at his command. His own join yours on the floor without much ceremony – his gun pointedly set just within reach atop your nightstand.

The first time you’d laid eyes on Getou Suguru, it was two months into your new job; a photograph pinned to a thick, heavy file Nanami had dropped on your desk. A surveillance picture, you’d gathered, snapped as the man was exiting some neon lit club downtown. And you remembered the smug smirk he’d had, staring directly down the lens of the camera like it was a challenge, but that wasn’t what had struck you most.

It was the flutter of interest that’d shot through your veins the moment before common sense kicked in. Tall and fit, with long, dark hair swept up in the wind, a sharp jaw and a handsome face, you remember thinking he was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Now, standing naked before you, bright, colourful tattoos inked across his torso, accentuating the muscles that rise and fall with every measured breath, you can’t bear to look. It’s easier just to stare at the wooden floorboards, the corner of the shagged rug you’d bought at a thrift store when you first moved in. Easier to pretend Getou isn’t pulling you closer once more, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses along your neck, murmuring words that are lost to you entirely as his hands wander. You can feel it now, the heat of his body as he cages you in, his cock, thick and heavy and flushed nudging insistently up against your stomach.

You expect him to shove you to your knees, to force his cock down your throat in some archaic show of dominance before he claims your cunt, but he doesn’t. 

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he whispers into your ear, teeth catching lightly on the sensitive lobe as you shiver. “Like you do when I’m not here, those pretty legs spread, fucking yourself on your fingers…”

The comment feels too familiar to be entirely offhanded, striking a chord of panic somewhere deep inside of you–

But it doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t matter now.

You allow him to kiss you again before climbing onto the mattress. Like a good girl, you fall back onto the pillows, let your legs ease apart, wrapping your lips around two fingers and sucking for a brief moment before gliding your hand down between your thighs. 

His breath hitches, a soft curse sounding when saliva slicked digits spread your folds, the tip of your middle finger brushing lightly against your clit as you stroke your pussy. Your nipples harden and peak under the cool night air and you use your free hand to palm at your breast, pinching and teasing at the sensitive bud while one finger slips into the warmth of your cunt. 

The mattress dips, Getou climbing onto the bed, settling himself back on his knees, your spread legs either side of him.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. 

Your heart stutters, movements jerking as you brace for him to interfere, to touch you, but aside from nudging your thighs further apart to get a better view of your glistening cunt, he seems content simply to sit back and watch, his own hand lazily stroking at his cock.

Trying in vain to block him out, you squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the way your fingers feel between your legs, the pleasure–

 (Not the shame, don’t think about that, don’t think about Getou watching you debase yourself for his enjoyment)

–that pools in your core as you rub the shining pearl of your clit. It’s a familiar dance, a routine you’d normally help along with a glass of wine and a few faithful toys, but you don’t exactly have that luxury here.

And even with the rigid tension in your shoulders, the unwanted presence of a man you’re terrified of impossible to ignore, you can’t help the quiet moan that slips past your lips, the way your hips stutter, grinding against the heel of your palm as your fingers hit that sweet, delightful spot inside of you. 

Getou tenses at the sound, the last, fragile thread of his composure snapping–

He strikes fast. One moment you’re biting down on your bottom lip, your index and middle fingers knuckle deep in your dripping pussy, the next he’s braced atop you, one hand locked around your wrist, the other propping himself up. And as your eyes fly open with a startled cry, his lips crash against your once more – desperate and ravenous, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth to taste you.

And you don’t fight it when he pulls your hand from your pussy and drags it to his crotch, his fingers entwining with yours as he wraps them around his heavy, throbbing cock and moans. It’s humiliating, the way he thrusts into your hand, tightening his grip so you’re forced to feel every shivery twitch of his dick while he sucks eagerly on your tongue.

This is the choice you’d made, the deal you struck. It’s too late to back out now, and even if you tried to… 

“I want you,” he pants, his lips glistening with saliva, an almost manic look in those dark, pretty eyes, “to ride me.”

… you’re not so sure Getou would let you.

So you allow yourself to be manhandled, lifted and situated across his lap like a doll. Hands braced on his tattooed chest, you lift your hips just enough for him to guide his cock to your slick entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length.

Every inch hurts. 

It doesn’t make it any less painful, the way Getou soothes you, his thumbs stroking gently at your waist as you whine and mewl, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock as he stuffs you full.

“Fuck– good girl, taking me so well,” he purrs.

You’re not sure if it’s shame, pleasure, or some sense of twisted pride at the praise that has your pussy clenching, fire racing through your veins when Getou experimentally rocks his hips upwards. And if your cheeks weren’t already burning, the lewd moan that escapes you when the head of his cock hits your g-spot would certainly do the trick. 

Ever observant, he wastes no time capitalising on your slip, lifting you up just to drive you back down onto his length at the perfect angle. You shudder around him, keening out a cry that has him groaning in pleasure.

There’s no illusion of control here between you two.

You might be the one on top, but Getou’s grip’s too tight, guiding every roll of your hips against his, his own rising in time to fuck his cock deeper into your warm, velvety cunt. And somewhere distantly you recognise that this could be a thousand times worse. How easily he could change the narrative in a heartbeat, flip you over, force your face into the pillows and fuck you like a dog until you’re gasping for air. He could use you, hurt you, probably kill you without ever needing to touch the gun he’d left on your nightstand – and you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of stopping him.

But he doesn’t. Lying back against your pillows, dark hair falling from his half up-do, cheeks flushed from exertion, Getou’s attention is wholly fixed on you - on your face, eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he hits somewhere deep inside of you that has you seeing stars, on your tits, the way they bounce every time you sink back down onto his cock.

His eyes are hooded, dark and intense, searching for every hint of pleasure he’s drawn from you. You gasp his name, fingers digging into his chest, your cunt fluttering so deliciously around him – and he loses that last little bit of his self control. 

He jerks upright, one arm wrapping around your waist to anchor you to him as he braces himself with the other, and before you can so much as gasp his mouth is at your tits, hot tongue laving at soft, supple skin there.

“Suguru,” he growls, hips snapping feverishly against yours. 

“Suguru,” you parrot, head lolling back as heat coils tighter in your core. 

You’ll worry about the consequences later, when he pulls you boneless and sated into his arms and you feel his heart thumping at your back as he kisses you and tells you to sleep. When tomorrow you arrive at work and Nanami stares a beat too long as the love bites scattered across your throat, no doubt wondering why you won’t so much as look at him.

For now, you settle for pulling him closer, gasping as you chase that quaking, blissful end.

[angry-geese]

Sage

nanami kento x reader

warnings: none! sfw. entirely fluff, this will quite literally rot your teeth. gn!reader though there is mentions of them being pregnant. aside from that gn pronouns are used.

notes: some dad!nanami and domestic fluff

word count: 1,435

Nanami settled into being a father better than he thought he would.

You were another jujutsu sorcerer, working with Gojo at the time. Your meeting with Nanami was only by chance. The two of you bonded over bullying Gojo. Though you found him much less annoying than Nanami did, you still made it known how you didn't appreciate his antics.

Slowly you wormed your way more into his life. The two of you frequented the same bakery. Early mornings turned into getting pastries together. You offered to pay the first time. He had your order memorized. He picked up little things about you that you hadn't even noticed yourself. Nanami was observant. He didn't intend to memorize these things—he wasn't certain why he was watching you—but he did. The one day you showed up late he had your order waiting for you in his arms. Since you were still under the impression he didn't like you, it was surprising.

The next day he had your order waiting for you.

No matter how many times you offered to pay him back, he always refused. Reluctantly he enjoyed your company. Though you weren't officially partners, Gojo usually ended up sending you on the same missions. Working together turned into spending time together outside of work. Much of your free time was spent at his home, or him at yours. The two of you were inseparable.

Nanami made it known he'd never date a coworker. He was awfully vocal about his distaste for work. The last thing he'd ever want was his personal and work life crossing over. But he made an exception for you.

He realized he was too far gone when he couldn't imagine life without you.

You were always calm and collected and strong in a way he could respect. The jujutsu world was never kind to you, but you took whatever it threw at you with grace. He respected you before he liked you. But when he fell for you, he fell hard.

His confession wasn't anything grand, but he still tried to make it special. After a mission, he invited you out to dinner. The place was a bit fancier than what you usually went to. He insisted it was a special occasion.

Nanami was almost too nervous to get his confession out, but after a few drinks he managed.

To be honest, you were under the impression you were already dating.

Dating wasn't all that different from the way things were before. You were a bit more affectionate around him. You had no problems with draping yourself over his form. Or giving him a kiss without warning. Anything to bother him while he worked. You two would move in together almost instantly.

His plan always was settling down. The idea of a family was scary, but appealing. The typical life of a jujutsu sorcerer—or any normal life at that—wasn’t for him.

From the beginning he wanted kids. You did too—eventually—there was a mutual agreement on it. You weren't exactly trying for one, but you weren't trying to avoid it either. If it happened, it happened, that was your logic. The two of you were well off enough financially to care for a child.

You would find out about your pregnancy not long after.

You didn't tell Nanami for a while. While you knew he would be happy with the news, it never felt like the right moment. You wanted to surprise him with it but the moment to do so never presented itself.

Gojo—of all people—spoiled the surprise. Really it was an accident. You made an offhand comment about missing going to bars. As a joke, he asked: "what? Are you pregnant?"

There was no way you could respond without outing yourself. It was a bit embarrassing that your coworker found out before your husband. Nanami took your silence as a yes.

Upon hearing the news, he was ecstatic.

The second he could, he quit. The jujutsu world is no place for a family. He would be content with never seeing another sorcerer again.

He would hardly leave your side for the next nine months.

Nanami would tag along to each and every one of your doctors appointments. God forbid you lifted something too heavy, or were on your feet too long. He was always on your case about pushing yourself too hard. His presence was suffocating at times, but you knew he meant well. If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask and he’d bring it to you. You tried not to abuse this power too much.

The two of you decided to keep the gender a secret until your child was born.

A few months later you'd have a girl.

Eventually one of you would have to go back to work. Maternity leave wouldn't last forever. Your “normal” job paid enough to support the three of you. You weren't rich, but you made enough to live comfortably. Nanami agreed to stay home and take care of the baby.

He took to being a stay-at-home father better than he thought he would. Being a househusband was a better fit for him than any office work. A deep fear lingers in him that he’ll be a bad parent; the same doubts that any new parent has. He’s not nearly as bad as he says he is. You make sure he knows that.

"She's so little," he says, "am I doing this right?"

The idea of being responsible for such a small and fragile thing scares him.

The tiny bundle rests against his chest. A tuft of soft blonde hair is visible from under her yellow cap. Nanami smooths a hand over her head, fixing her hat. He can't stop the smile that spreads across his face and she chirps happily. Her pudgy fingers reach out and wrap around his much larger one.

"It's a baby carrier, how complicated can it be?" You ask.

The instructions look like they're written in Greek.

He notices your confused look and says a weak: "I told you"

The parts look nothing like the picture. Her baby carrier is a mess of straps and unnecessary clips. You can't tell what parts are spares, or just things you've left out.

It's oddly stressful.

Since when were these things so hard to put together?

"It looks nothing like the picture." He says.

"I mean, it doesn't look wrong." You say, a bit irritated. “As long as it keeps her in one place I think she’ll be fine.”

He fixes her hat one last time.

The walk to the bakery isn't a long one. When you two were looking for a house, you found one nearby. Nanami has your order memorized, and orders for the both of you. He’s made plenty of midnight trips to this place; you had cravings for some pretty strange things. You get your usual order of a coffee, a filled pastry, and a loaf of bread you plan on saving for breakfast tomorrow.

You gather your things and sit on a nearby bench to eat. Although it feels like such a little thing, this feels like the first time you've been out since you had the baby. Being away from work has made you both a bit stir crazy.

"You're dropping food on her head." You say.

A small "oh" leaves his mouth before he picks up the crumb, popping it into his mouth.

"Ken' that's gross."

He looks at you, then down at her, then back to you.

"Yeah."

He smooths a hand over her head. She squeals in delight, her pudgy hands outstretched. Nanami still can't get over how little she is. Months later he's still shocked that something so small is his. He acts like she's the most fragile thing on earth. Constantly you have to remind him that children are a lot more resilient than he thinks. If the baby is crying, he’s usually the first to console her. Even on nights that you offer, he refuses. He’ll stay up for hours reading to her.

He never thought he could love something so much. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, then yours. Moments like this are fleeting. He hates to get sentimental, but moments like this are fleeting. Before you know it, your kid will be all grown up and that thought terrifies him.

You lean your head against his shoulder. He almost seems surprised by it.

“We should hit that bookstore on the way back.” You offhandedly mention.

“Do you have room for more books?” He asks.

No, but you’re getting more anyway.

[haztory]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

--nanami kento x gn!reader; hurt, comfort, minor character death, established relationship, death from a disease

--summary: Death is part of the process, Nanami Kento learns early on. He's no stranger to it nor the quiet that follows it. But when it plagues you like this, he finds himself at a loss.

a/n: I don’t know where this came from. it just happened. have I mentioned I'm a huge nanami simp as well? something about capable men just gets to me hehe. anyways, enjoy!

i listened to ‘clouds’ by luke faulkner while writing this

(w.c. 2302)

Death is part of the process, Nanami Kento learns early on.

It’s not one he has to particularly enjoy, but it would be advantageous in the resting of his conscious to make peace with it. Rather than let death ruin the few hours of sleep he can manage a night, it’s significantly easier to never let it weigh too heavily on his mind, never let its stay linger for more than necessary in the space of his thoughts. His occupation demands a certain air of nonchalance from him, requires the detached, almost stoic acknowledgment of the situation. Eventually, familiarity will settle in the depth of his recollection and death becomes something one needn’t blink twice towards. 

It’s not an aspect of the job he likes, per se, but it’s significantly better than the alternative. This seemingly apathetic conception of human life is unfortunately an evil requirement. Instead of festering over the lives he didn’t save, he can focus on the ones he has yet to protect. His slate may be tainted with copious amounts of red— inky, dark, bleeding red; the kind that looks black as it accumulates— but in true Kento fashion, he’ll wipe it clean. Gently, with a clean rag and with slow, circular motions, he’ll wash away the evidence of his failures with as much respect as he can, regardless of how exhausted he may be and how much easier it would be to just run his body, suit, and knife through the stream of water.

The victims may no longer be of this earth, but their last physical embodiment lay wickedly upon his person, his weapon, and his soul. Where he couldn’t save them, the least he can do is lay their last parts to rest with as much kindness as one can muster: with a slow wipe and a silent prayer. 

Death is part of the process, but, if one allows it, it can also be the fuel towards excellence. A drive that settles in after the brief misfortune, kickstarting the desire for improvement; A need to do and be better. To work harder and save more people. But that’s all it must be. No residual guilt, no lasting regret, only fuel. That’s what Nanami Kento learns early on.

What he learns rather recently, though, is that death is much different when it’s inevitable. 

When there is no amount of slashing, no amount of fighting, no amount of improved skills that can prevent it. Even worse, when you know it’s coming and preparation can do very little in settling the grief. 

Death is part of the process, but how can one rationalize it when it doesn’t come from the immediate life or death situation he so often faces? When it doesn’t come from the hands of maniacal cursed spirits or the wickedness of greedy men, but instead, from the unforgiving nature of nature itself? How does one reconcile the inevitability of death when it happens to someone so young?

Cancer. 

She was only eleven.

Death is part of the process, Kento used to think, but as he stands amongst the sea of black on this fitting day of grey, he can’t help but notice how incredibly unfair this all is. Her mother stands a few feet away, silent as they scatter her ashes by the river she used to play in as a child. She stands flanked on either side by loved ones, and yet, the abysmal look on her face betrays any ideal that she may be comforted by the closeness of others; Hardly even cognizant of the fact that they’re there. He’s seen that look before, once on himself.  

It’s the face of vicissitude, the kind that casts someone past the rocks of sadness and out onto the sea of loneliness and despair. A place that no one can follow.

Spouses are called some variation of widow, children are called orphans. What does one call a parent who’s lost their child? No doubt the lack of a label only helps to contribute to the loneliness of it all. Suspended in pain without even the decency of a customary societal title attached to one’s name. Left with nothing but the echoing emptiness of a broken heart.

Grief personified. A hollow shell of a being. Just another person who lost someone they loved. Nothing more, nothing less.

Kento is used to death, but this? This has heartache weighing heavier on his shoulders than he’s used to, forcing his impeccably straight posture forward with a sag of tragedy. The silence of the fellow attendees forces him to maintain some morsel of composure, in fear of disturbing the serene devastation of it all that’s composed so fragilely. So delicate that even a sigh will break the glass of still anguish. As her ashes are scattered to the river and the priest begins the common prayer, the image of her weak smile in her last moments plays vividly behind Kento’s tinted glasses. He can hardly swallow the lump that tightens his throat.

He can hardly imagine how her mother feels. Can hardly imagine how you feel. She was your niece after all.

His eyes trail towards your figure. Standing to the right of your sister, dressed in the customary black, and hand held tightly in hers in solidarity of the magnitude of the loss. Kento didn’t mind standing towards the back, away from the bubble of intimacy that surrounded the two of you. It would’ve felt like an invasion of the sanctity of family to stand anywhere near. A foreigner, he’s always attributed himself to be whenever accompanied with your family— not out of their refusal to accommodate him, but rather his own voluntary maintenance of separation from their sphere of loving connection that was more or less absent from his own life— and any meager effort to share sentiments of sorrow would feel, more or less, inauthentic. At least at this moment.

So he waits, towards the back of the gathering. A far enough distance to ascertain his separation from the immediate family, but close enough to where, should you require him at any point, you need only turn around to seek him out. And he will come to you, as fast as his legs may go, regardless of the people that may be in the way. For his hand has been twitching this entire time with the need to physically comfort you and his eyes continuously dart back to your figure in watchful consideration.

The priest ends his prayer and the last of the ashes are sent off and silence once more encompasses the gathering. The aching kind, the one that wants to be disturbed so badly, but remains untouchable. The kind of agonizing mute that has surrounded his life since you received the fateful phone call a few days before.

Kento is no stranger to quiet. It’s his preferred method of life, not the kind of person to find delight in unnecessary, boastful noise, nor the kind to entertain it often. But this is the kind of quiet he finds greats distaste in. Especially since it’s deprived him of his favorite kind of din— yours.

The life that is so intricately intertwined with yours has held virtually no recognizable clamor in four days. No low chatter from the television, no raucous laughter induced from one of your social media apps, no prolonged discussion of each other’s days or interesting points of conversation. Only silence has filled every gap and crevice as you two packed bags and made arrangements to head to your hometown in preparation for the funeral. Lamenting silence filled the space as you sat side by side on the train towards your destination. Mournful silence encompassing the home of your sister upon your mutual entry into the area. Silence so thick yet so delicate, so long and so void that any attempt to dismantle it feels boilingly uncomfortable.

He doesn’t like the wall it has unintentionally placed between you two, wanting nothing more than to tear it down with his bare hands and have you back within the safety of his arms. But he knows better. 

Death is part of the process, and he must let grief run its course. He’ll just remain in the shadows as a beam of support, intent to provide the space and time you need, but always keeping a trained eye on you.

That’s what love is, he supposes. It’s an odd thing to think, especially as solemness surrounds him as it does now. The drag of sadness competing with the surge of love that overwhelms his veins. It’s burning, and intense, and while his is mostly in consideration of you (as most things in his life nowadays are), it’s peculiarly indicative of the moment. Poetic, almost. 

Bleeding affection borders this ceremony of gathered friends and family in a proper send-off, love encapsulated in the silent tears trailing down faces and memorialized in the air of stagnance. Pouring in every direction as they all gaze sadly at the traveling ashes of the young girl down the steady waters of the river.

It’s grief, yes, but also love, for what is grief but love with nowhere to go?

The ride home is like all the other days, incredibly hushed. Inaudible. He can barely hear your breaths. He wonders, and not for the first time, if when he dies, this is how you will grieve. In this tragic quiet, moving with such stillness that was he not watching, he wouldn’t know you moved at all. A vacant soul wandering just to survive. Jujutsu sorcerers unfairly make their peace with dying early on in their tenure, and maybe he’s committed you to a life of tragedy by involving himself so intimately with you. 

When he dies, and he will— this life that he has chosen spares him no luxuries, not even false beliefs— he will condemn you to a brutal reality that he could have spared you from were he not so selfish. He hates seeing you like this. Hates it with every fiber of his being.

Death is a part of the process. He understands that. He just wishes it wasn’t so collateral. A prolonged state of your affliction that resulted from his hand would surely be a more painful fate than any gruesome death.

Your parent’s home is warm, in sharp contrast to the events of the day. And while they stayed with your sister, Kento insisted you return to your place of stay to wash and change if only to give you a moment alone; So he can check on you in the sanctity of privacy, grant you a brief respite from the unrelenting tide of sorrow, cherish you in these sparing instances that he can never take for granted. 

You bathe alone, he gives you that. He makes tea the way your mother taught him how, even though you quite like the way he makes it and has it set on the table upon your return. Dressed in comfier attire and seated blankly at the table, he settles in beside you. His shoulder touching yours hoping to convey in this minute action that he’s here. 

He doesn’t need the words to say it. Just his presence. 

His hand too, as you settle your own silently in the space of his large one, gripping tightly onto the rough skin. He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand, bringing it to his lips as he placed two long kisses on its surface. You’ve made eye contact all day but this is the first time you’ve really looked at each other. 

Where he can see the pain swimming in the pools of your irises behind the film of unshed tears and you can see the unrestrained sympathy and worry in his. 

“She was eleven,” you whisper, unable to speak any louder.

He doesn’t say anything. There’s not much he can say, only press his lips harder to the back of your hand.

It’s the only moment you’ve had alone together since arriving, and while he was so desperate before to hear something, anything come from your mouth, he finds that the inactivity the fills space once more is rather appropriate. One that he doesn’t want to disturb. Not when there isn’t anything he can say that can heal this wound, nothing he can do except love and care for you when you’re too weak to do it yourself. 

He places a hand behind your head, tilting you forward as he places his lips upon your forehead and smoothing the stray hairs that have displaced themselves from your formal hairdo. Fingers travel down the back of your neck and rub gentle circles on your shoulder, healing any aches with his touch. 

“Drink,” he murmurs against your temple, and you do. A sign of progress that he relishes in. He’s more than eager to see the slow trek back to a state of normalcy, but he knows it’ll be different from here on out. There’s a hole in your heart and it will take a while to heal. 

But he’ll be there. For as long as he can, whenever he can. Because that’s what love is.

Death is part of the process, but he finds it’s infinitely more manageable with you. He knows you feel the same way when at the end of the day as you lay side by side in the guest room of your parents’ home, you take comfort in the safety of his arms and finally, fill the air with something other than the prolonged silence and let him comfort you. 

Death is part of the process, and he knows the inevitability of his own part in it. But in this moment with you, he’ll let himself indulge selfishly in your noise. It’s his favorite sound, after all. 

end notes: come shoot me a message! i love hearing from yall. 

[strawbeebo]

~♡ Damned If I Do ♡~

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem! (She/Her) Reader

Warnings: ❌MAJOR SPOILERS!!❌ Seriously, if you aren’t caught up with the manga, don’t even finish reading this description lmaooo

Words: 5.5K

Genre: Fluff & Angst

A/N: this has shit that’s 100% me taking shit into my own hands and assuming the shibuya incident ends with things going well for those still alive and everyone returning to the Tokyo school for rehabilitation and mourning so ye ye ye. also i’m delving into completely unfamiliar territory so don’t @ me if it makes no sense LMAO

As always, if you enjoy this and want to see more of my work, PLEASE consider reblogging as it’s the best way for my works to get around and keepin’ me motivated to make more for y’all!

❌ MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD ❌

Gojō remembered the first time he met you, after all, how couldn’t he? It was actually a pretty funny situation, but if Nanami had a say in it he would heartily disagree.

It was his birthday, something Nanami had never put much thought into and actually preferred others to treat it in the same way. For the longest time, his birthday was just another day that happened to show that he had been on this hell of an earth for one year longer than the year before. It was a countdown leading to nothing when he had nothing he really wanted to live for, but when he met you, that seemed to change in a blink of the eye. Well, at least your relationship felt just like that, a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ type situation, but despite that, the handful of years he had spent with you felt like something he never could have even dreamed up happening.

You had met by chance, running into each other at the grocery store. It was nothing special, he had quite a few more items than you did so he offered up the spot ahead of him so that you could get through more quickly. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately so, the line was still fairly long so you decided to strike up a conversation with him following your list of ‘thank you’s’. You thought he was nice, a little bit on the serious side and not overly cordial, but you could tell just from that short conversation that he was the type of person you could sit with and not say a single word and still feel comfortable and content. He had a sort of calming, mature air about him and with a handsome face to match, you couldn’t help but think about how surely a man like that had someone waiting for him back home, wherever that was. Either way, before your conversation could go on for long, you had to turn your focus to checking out, so you thanked him once more for letting you pass him and simply went on your way, not thinking in the slightest that such a minor encounter with a stranger would change your life like it had. Your life continued on as normal and so did his and, for a few months at least, things went on as such until the two paths of your respective lives came together once more.

This time, it was at a small café that you later learned was near his place of work, so he frequented it often. You actually didn’t see him at first, he had intentionally chosen a table that was at one of the corners closer to the entrance so he could be away from the noise of the front counter, but the cafe was a bit packed that afternoon so it didn’t really matter in the end. You had only noticed him because you were looking for a place where you could sit and your disappointment in the fact that there didn’t seem to be any empty tables was soon replaced with intrigue in response to seeing that vaguely familiar face. It took you a moment, but his unique features allowed for your memory to be jogged quickly as you made your way over to him after putting in your order, starting with a small wave to get his attention.

To your surprise he actually remembered you, though that was for the better since it made you feel a little bit less creepy about remembering him. You introduced yourself, something you didn’t feel like you had to do last time but for some reason with this meeting, you felt it was appropriate. He returned the favor, ‘Kento Nanami’ was his name, something that at first didn’t seem to suit him well, but who were you to say? Your small talk continued and, while you didn’t actually have any intention of ‘using’ him for the empty chair that sat across from him, the topic of how busy the cafe was came up and his request for you to sit with him followed soon after. You turned him down initially, you assumed he was working since he had both his laptop and his phone laid out in front of him and you didn’t want to be an annoyance, but he politely insisted it was not bother for him, so you eventually accepted his offer.

You were only on your break after all, so you figured it wouldn’t be long and that if you drank your coffee and ate your chocolate croissant quietly, he wouldn’t regret allowing you to share the small table, though once again to your surprise, it was him who started up another conversation a few minutes after you got settled. You talked about your respective work, his disdain for his job being clear as day even as he seemed to try and justify it either to you or to himself, but you almost felt bad speaking of your boring day to day job that didn’t seem nearly as bad as his. Aside from work however, you spent a lot of time talking about good places to eat in the area as it seemed you shared a love for good food amongst a few other things. He was as nice to talk to as you had initially imagined he would be, to a point where you had to cross your fingers and hope that he didn’t notice your interest peak and your eyes flicker to his ring finger when he happened to mention living alone. To be honest, you had never really been one to put yourself out there unless the person who you found an interest in had a clear interest in you in return, but when you stood up to leave, you felt compelled to slip him your number written on a piece of notepad paper you always kept in your purse, telling him if you ever happened to be out at the same time, you’d like to meet up for coffee or something another time.

He, much like you, wasn’t particularly romantically focused, but he accepted the offer nonetheless. If anything, he wouldn’t deny it was nice to have some company that wasn’t his coworkers. You were polite and all, though for some reason, he felt a want to get to know you on more than a ‘small talk with a stranger’ level. He didn’t have much to go on, but that was all the more reason to get to know you more, and that he did. You had one more meeting over coffee, and then once again, this time at a different café you had told him about. He liked to stick to his routine, but it was cute how excited you got raving about how amazing their cherry danishes were, so he decided it couldn’t hurt. From there his feelings of ‘it couldn’t hurt to go’ slowly turned to him waiting to see you again, for once tapping his pen in annoyance not just because he wanted to get out of another pointless meeting, but because he wanted to see you. You had become a breath of fresh air in his mundane life, one that made all those late nights seem slightly less exhausting and after some time, made the idea of making money for himself come second in his thoughts. Your coffee dates turned to dinners out, then to him cooking dinner for you, then to nights spent together that ended with both of you being late for work the following mornings.

You had gotten more than ‘close’ over the span of a year or so, so much so that after many evenings of you commenting on how you could tell something was wrong, he decided that you were someone he could trust with the information regarding his former work as a sorcerer and eventually, you were a big part in convincing him to go back to it, something that, thinking back, you both regretted and welcomed as a fantastic idea. Despite the injuries you’d see him with, he seemed...lighter, as if something that had been previously bothering him had vanished with him returning to the objectively much more relentless work. Still, you could tell he was happy in his own way and as cheesy as it sounded, if he was happy, then so were you. A few months after that and you decided there was no point in living separately if you were spending almost every night over at his place anyways, so the two of you moved in together. Things were about as normal as you could possibly imagine being with someone who did what he did, but with you, a sense of normalcy was all he wanted.

Another year passed and he fully welcomed his thoughts making the change from thinking about how he was going to live out the rest of his life in a tedious manner to how he was going to live his life with you in it. Hell, even his acquaintances could tell you were more than just some woman he was seeing because if you were, they wouldn’t know about you at all. He was rather private like that, everything about his personal life was very much on a need-to-know basis that in his eyes, they didn’t need to know, especially Gojō, but unfortunately you had asked for a few contact numbers just for emergencies and Gojō happened to be one of them. It didn’t take him very long to abuse said connection though, and before Nanami knew it, he was walking into a private party room of a small restaurant the two of you frequented often, only this time he was met with an obnoxiously loud array of ‘Happy Birthday’s being shouted at him. Still, the sheepish smile you wore as Gojō explained he had been secretly planning this little surprise party with you was more than enough to make him ok with his birthday being celebrated in such an over the top way. More than that, something about the way you interacted with his coworkers and students made him...oddly happy. The way you handled Itadori’s numerous enamored questions about your relationship, being able to hear that loud, full on laugh you let out at the stupid stories Gojō told about when the two of them were in school, and all the little small talk in between as you got to know eachother. He hated to admit to thinking of them as his family, but he knew there was no other explanation as to why he felt so fortunate to see you all get along so well.

That night felt like it went on forever, though slowly the party began to thin. The students left first, they had lessons early in the morning after all, and eventually it was down to him, Gojō, and you. You shared a drink with them before tapping out early with an apology, you had pulled an all nighter the night before and the exhaustion was starting to set in, but you insisted he stay out a little bit longer and enjoy himself and after a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye and a whispered “Happy birthday, Kento.”, you were off to hopefully catch the last train home. Nanami knew what was coming next as he could see the knowing look on Gojō’s face before he even turned back to look at him, and maybe it was the alcohol, but he didn’t mind the conversation that he knew was about to follow.

It started with a simple comment.

“She seems awfully nice. Too good for you, don’t you think, ‘Nanamin’?~”

If he were being honest, he would have answered ‘yes’, but that wasn’t something he really wanted to get into. Instead he brushed him off, making a comment on how he sincerely hoped he wasn’t suggesting that somehow Gojō would be a far better option for you, to which he laughed in return. They talked quietly like that for a while, after all Gojō hadn’t gotten to hear the whole story yet and he was intrigued about how this seemingly normal woman managed to wiggle her way into the overly serious and stoic Nanami’s heart. He didn’t ask that directly though, instead he just listed off different harmless questions about what you did for work or what kinds of things you liked. It wasn’t the answer itself that necessarily mattered, but with the way Nanami spoke about you, he could tell that he was simply taken by you. For someone so blunt and pessimistic, when he spoke about you, even if his tone didn’t change, Gojō could practically see the passion he held for you in his eyes. Still, he couldn’t let his carefree reputation be tarnished so to hide his interest he would crack a few jokes and, as always, Nanami would respond with something clever. The night droned on like that until finally, in a slightly more serious tone, Gojō asked a question that Nanami had already asked himself many times over.

“So, you gonna’ marry her?”

It was a simple question with a technically simple answer, however it took much more pondering than one would think. The life he lived was a dangerous one, one that rarely made room for romance at all, let alone marriage, but somewhere along the way, you had helped him break from his repetitive schedule of a life that was meticulously planned and for once, this was something he was certain of even if the outcome itself wasn’t so. The two of you had already had this conversation, more than once actually since he was the one who needed some convincing, so it was really just a matter of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. Still, he didn’t have to let Gojō know that.

“....I’ve thought about it.”

“Uh huh. So can I see the ring?”

He should have known there wasn’t a single thing on this planet that Gojō couldn’t pick up on. With a sigh, he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out the small black box that he had carried with him practically every day that he wasn’t working since he had bought the damn thing and placed it on the table. Gojō snapped it up almost immediately, flipping the lid open and lowering his glasses to look at the ring properly. It was simple, something that wasn’t surprising since Nanami didn’t put much meaning into materialistic things and you didn’t seem like the type to want something too excessive anyways.

“A sorcerer’s salary sure doesn’t buy much does it.~~”

The box was snatched away from him in a matter of seconds as he continued to laugh it off as Nanami mumbled about how ‘he shouldn’t have bothered’ despite the fact he knew Gojō was just messing with him. Slowly, the topic faded and after one more drink, they were back to their own personal realities which, luckily for him, involved slipping into bed with who he was sure was the love of his life.

The morning came and went and your worlds settled back into their odd sense of a different kind of ‘mundane’, one that involved curses and demons, but was saved by the comfort and love you had for one another. However even that could only hold up your spirits for so long and with every passing day, it seemed like Nanami was always coming home with worse news, and that was with him sparing you as many of the details as he possibly could. Even with him explaining it to you, there were still things you didn’t understand, but you knew that things were escalating in the world of jujutsu sorcerers and curses. The flashes of true normalcy and happy days seemed to appear so few and far in between lately, the days where you could visit him and the students he helped out with became a thing of the past as said meetings were deemed ‘unsafe’ by the higher ups.

Then, all at once, it seemed the steady decline of the situation seemed to falter just for a moment before sinking even deeper than any of them could have possibly imagined. You knew this mission in Shibuya was different from anything leading up to it just from the way Nanami spoke to you before he left. He made a point to never treat you like a child or as if you couldn’t handle the work he did, however this time, unlike before, he made a point of telling you about the amount of sorcerers that would be there and that they already had an idea of what the curses’ plans were. He was reassuring you that this would be no different than any other mission, and that alone was enough to let you know things were much more dire, but as if that weren’t enough, he held you with a lack of his usual confidence, keeping his arms locked around you for longer than usual before pressing a sweet kiss against your lips that you wished to god you could have savored more than you did. He assured you once more, told you he would call you as soon as he possibly could, and he was gone.

You didn’t even live that close to Shibuya, but with the amount of noise and the way the ground shook that night, you felt even people halfway across the world could feel the sheer amount of power that was devastating the area. You didn’t dare turn on the news, so instead you simply waited. You kept waiting until somehow, you fell asleep. You waited through your morning coffee that you could hardly stomach, waited through the calls and texts from coworkers and friends asking if you had seen the news, you waited and waited and waited. Every call that wasn’t from him became irritating, and as the afternoon passed and the sun began to set, you felt every wave of emotion fall over you. You began to agonize as night fell, calling Gojō you don’t know how many times before eventually falling asleep, no doubt due to stress.

You woke up to a call from the principal of the school Kento worked for, someone you had never even spoken to before, asking you to come to the school the following day. That wasn’t the call you were waiting for, that wasn’t who you wanted to hear, but what else could you do? How long could you reasonably wait to hear Kento over the phone apologizing for being so late and complaining about the amount of overtime these curses were running up? All you could do was agree to be picked up by one of the few sorcerers left, who oddly enough wasn’t the usual black haired man who you had seen drop off Kento on occasion. The young woman didn’t speak much aside from confirming your name, but you were glad for that as you didn’t know what you would say. Or rather, you didn’t want to ask the question that was clawing at your skull because somewhere deep past the threads of hope you were hanging on to, you knew what the answer would be. You could feel something was wrong from the moment you woke up that morning to right this second as you walked with bated breath before being asked to sit in a small lounge room.

It wasn’t long before you heard the slide of the door and were met with the familiar young face of Itadori and lengthy figure of Gojō who, for as strong as Kento had described him as, looked particularly exhausted and lacked that usual grin he always wore.

“...We need to talk.”

Never had those words made your chest feel so tight, but as the rest of his explanation spilled past his lips, you felt emptier than you ever thought was possible.

You knew from the beginning of the end that he was gone.

You knew, yet nothing could have prepared you for the words your heard cried from young Itadori’s mouth as he practically collapsed down onto his hands and knees with his head bowed to the floor as he sobbed out a whirlpool of apologies and regrets that made your stomach turn in knots. You felt cold and painfully numb, as if you were off in a dream somewhere watching all this happen, your brain scrambling for a way to prove that none of this was real. You didn’t feel in control when you got on your knees and hugged Itadori close to you, your own tears finally beginning to spill from your eyes as reality set in and yet, you still tried to mutter through your own weeping that it was ok, it wasn’t his fault, it will be okay. It felt like an eternity that you were crumpled on that floor next to this poor boy, your thoughts completely shut down by your emotions. You had talked about this so many times, sworn up and down that no matter what happened to him, you wanted nothing more than just just be with him. Now, you couldn’t remember how you convinced him of that, because suddenly you weren’t sure how you could possibly be ok with him gone. What was next? Did you even have a single faction of your future planned that didn’t involve him? Over and over your brain went back and forth, between acceptance of this new reality and ridiculous explanations as to the ‘fact’ that somehow, they were wrong. That they missed something, that Kento hated overtime more than anything else and would be waltzing in with nothing more than a few scratches and bruises and ask you what you were doing on the floor like that. It was then that you must have either passed out or dozed off as you could have sworn you felt the phantom of his embrace and his lips pressed to your forehead.

——————————————————————————

For all the late night dramas you watched on television, you could never quite understand what people meant when they said ‘it all passed in a blur’ in regards to what followed after a loved one passed away, but now you knew with certainty that description was not far off from reality. You felt as though you did nothing but cry for days, days that were spent at the school since the mere thought of going home to an empty apartment made you feel sick. Every time you thought you couldn’t cry any longer, there was always something, an item belonging to Kento being offered up to you or a question in regards to his funeral that would send you further down the spiral that you already thought you had reached the bottom of.

The numbness began to fade, slowly, but as awful as it sounded, luckily things around you seemed to be moving just as slowly due to the sheer amount of chaos there was to be dealt with. You tried your best to pull yourself back up again and you were fortunate for the lack of pressure from the others to do so because the reality was, you didn’t know what to do, so for a while, you really didn’t do much of anything. Some days you cried for hours on end, some days you were angry, some days you just didn’t feel much of anything. Days turned to months, though now some of those days were occupied by grief counseling that seemed to help the more you got used to it. You were finally able to return home, though even after another few months of counseling, it felt hard at times with how empty it was. Still, having all of Kento’s friends and acquaintances nearby helped and you all supported one another in the ways that you could.

Eventually you found yourself able to think about Kento more fondly and less about the fact that he was gone. You slowly began working again, you were lucky to have an understanding boss who didn’t have a problem with you having days here or there where you still couldn’t quite handle a normal work day. You also took your counselors’ advice of taking care of yourself physically quite seriously, though most of that motivation came from the fact that if Kento could say something to you now, he would be more than willing to scold you for missing meals or not drinking enough water. Little things like that were working their way into your thoughts more often and you found yourself able to smile again, pushing yourself forward with the idea that Kento would give you as much time as you needed, but you knew he would still hope that you’d be able to find your old flow of life once more.

It had been a while, you still felt off in regards to being social, but you had finally decided to reach out to Gojō and ask him out for a drink. To be honest, you hadn’t been keeping up with the sorcerers as of late. At first you obsessed over it, your lover had given his life over their cause after all, but it was doing you no good and eventually Gojō genuinely convinced you that he was going to keep you up to date on everything significant and let you know what was happening. As far as you knew, they were still in a bit of a recovery period, thought that was partially because the opposition had been awfully quiet while they were left with little to no leads to follow. Still, Gojō was more than happy to hear from you about something other than updates and happily accepted your offer.

He wasn’t surprised at your choice of restaurant being that same one both you and Nanami had loved, but he still felt ill prepared to face that longing look you had as the two of you met up in front of the place. You still looked worn down, but you seemed well off enough considering the situation and the amount of time that had passed.

“He pretended to be pissed off the last time we were here together, but he was really happy that day.” You started, nursing a cup of the shared bottle of sake the two of you had ordered.

“Really? I’m sure he’d deny that with everything he had.”

“Yeah,” You said with a short laugh and a tired smile. “He probably would.”

The two of you talked a bit about nothing in particular, you could tell he was avoiding any mention of his work and the current state of things, but you didn’t mind. That wasn’t why you wanted to see him anyways, though to be honest, you didn’t know exactly why you had wanted to meet up with him. Maybe you just wanted to feel close to Kento again, a part of you dreaming of a world where the three of you were chatting over drinks, just like before. Your chatter quieted, the silence between the two of you drowned by the quiet murmur of the other customers before you finally decided to speak something that had been on your mind as of late.

“I- um…” You started, the telltale tightening of your throat creeping up on you as you gently fiddled with your cup. “...I’ve- I keep thinking...or maybe daydreaming...I think about what would have- what we would have...been.” You finished, stumbling over your words in the process as you tried to fight back against your own emotions.

You knew that thinking about all the ‘what if’s’ was probably horrible for your mental state, but sometimes, when you were really alone with your thoughts, you just couldn’t help yourself. A part of you thought that maybe if you thought about it enough, if you wished for it hard enough, your dreams would somehow come true. Even knowing that in the end that could never happen, those thoughts were always bittersweet in a way. In the end you were and always would be happy for everything you had with him, even if your time together was cut short.

“This has been a topic of debate, you know.” He spoke, tapping a finger on the table a few times as if in thought. “The consensus was ‘don’t give it to her’ but I disagree and I think Nanami would agree with me for once, so I took it anyway.”

For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had heard you correctly, or maybe he didn’t understand what you were saying? Your questions were quickly snuffed out before you could even ask them though as a small black box was placed down in front of you and your heart just about stopped. Your mouth hung open as you looked at him and he simply gestured for you to open the box. You did just that, staring at the simple ring with a single pear-cut opal set in the center, a stone you had commented on loving seemingly years ago. Your fingers felt tingly as you reached for it, your mouth finally closing once you finally held it in your hands. All at once your emotions began to overflow with the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes.

“I’m no expert, but I think you woulda’ gotten married. Obviously I would be the best man and Nanami would find some new ugly tie to wear.” He said with an air of reminiscence for something that never actually was.

“You’d probably look great, but that’s a given. Then you’d party and get drunk and finally go home so you could do some stuff that would end up with us having some good news a few months later….Ok maybe no kids but I’m sure the two of you could make a damn good night out of it.”

You were silent for a moment, and then you burst out with laughter that quickly dissolved into crying as he handed you napkin after napkin to wipe your face with. You wondered how Gojō could make everything sound so simple and make you somehow both overjoyed and saddened at the same time, but after a while, you were left smiling even though you still had tears running down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry that couldn’t come true.” He spoke in a more serious tone, a gentle smile gracing his features. “-But, who knows? Maybe it could, someday, with someone. Point is, you should know that all Nanami ever wanted was to be happy with you. Whether or not that was for a hundred years or two, he was more willing to ride that train through than he was with anything else. He knew there was a chance that being happy with you could only last so long, but he’d want you to keep living and loving the things and people that you do. That’s what he fought for, after all.”

You nodded, laughing once more through your most likely obnoxious crying. You knew there was no way you could ever get over that want to have lived a happy life forever with Kento, but you also knew it would break his heart if you were never at least able to enjoy the rest of your life alongside the grief you held. You wiped your eyes once more, your tears finally ceasing, and you slipped the ring onto your left ring finger and lifted your hand up to admire it and everything it represented.

“Would you look at that!~ Guess he really did have an eye for perfect measurements.”

You smiled and gave him a nod, unable to tear your eyes away from the ring that now sat proudly on your finger. This was where your life and your love had led you, mourning for the loss of everything you had and yearning for the things that you now knew would have been, yet you knew from him proclaiming it many times that if there was one thing Kento cherished, it was the fact that you gave him something to look forward to, a reason to truly live rather than just go through the motions. He would want you to live the rest of your life just the same, even if it was without him. You would love those you held dear, you would laugh til’ you couldn’t breathe and cry until you ran out of tears. You would eat your favorite foods, sleep in on your days off for as long as you could, and be sure your calendar was marked with little “X’s” for even the smallest of things to look forward to. You would live your life to what you felt was the fullest with him in your heart throughout all of it until maybe, someday, you could see him once more to finish your story with a long awaited “I do”.

[forbidding-souda]

hiii can i request hcs for the the sdgr2 girls with a chubby fem s/o pls 👉👈

SDR2 girls with chubby fem S/O

Kisses!! :D definitely xx

-Mod Souda

Hiyoko Saionji

Hugs you like a pillow all the time.

Too often, literally cannot separate from you sometimes.

If you have a sugar tooth, the two of you will debate your favorite candies together.

She gets heated in the argument.

Eventually, you’ll just agree to disagree, which doesn’t satisfy her too much.

Forces you to try to eat all her favorites foods. Will cry if you don’t.

Will cry if you don’t.

Also forces you to come to all of her dances. Not that you mind about that though, as you would have went anyways.

But the idea of you caring for her enough to go on your own free will scares her.

You don’t get made fun of often, because being apart of the class means being a friend to everyone, but Teruteru is the one to always make flirting comments because of your weight.

Hiyoko bops him on the head each time, scolding him to death.

Sometimes, when she thinks you’re sleeping at night, she’ll cry sympathetic tears for you. 

“I’m sorry I can’t stop him,” she whispers, holding you tight. 

Sonia Nevermind

Ironically her pet-name for you is princess.

She’s very cautious about things that can offend you, if anything.

Has a killer death stare when people say insensitive things.

Her favorite thing is having you too match clothes, and she has her own tailor to make you both clothes.

May or may not convince you to wear gothic clothes.

You have to deal with her rants about serial killers, too.

Sometimes she’ll wake you up in the middle of the night like, “I still don’t understand how he got away with it for so long.”

Dangerously in love with you. She’ll surprise you with kisses all the time.

“Surprise smooch!” She calls out, jumping on your back and making you fall over.

Kisses you softly. She’s never aggressive about it. 

For showing off in public, her only issue is if you can learn the dozen of mandatory languages in such short time.

Since you need to be on her intelligence level to be with her, of course!

Almost forgets that you think you’re different from everyone else.

But you’re not! And no one in her kingdom really cares about the way you look, just the way you hold yourself and your devotion to making her happy.

Akane Owari

Worships you in every way.

Holds onto you while she tells you how much she loves you.

Will definitely die for you in every sense of the phrase.

Takes cooking classes with you! She was definitely a mother figure with her siblings, and so cooking with her is the moment you can see her settle down and be stern.

She gets serious about food.

But she’ll eat whatever you make, even if it isn’t too good. 

Defends your honor against people who laugh at you!

And in turn you get to bandage her wounds.

Especially when she butts heads with Nidai.

Which happens a lot.

She’s a hard person to try and wrestle down to give her kisses. She will literally just try and make you chase her.

“Come on! I know you can do it!” She laughs as she literally climbs a building.

Peko Pekoyama

A little nervous about Kuzuryuu finding out she is together with a girl.

But he knows her better than anyone, so she knows that he already knows. 

Especially when he gets you gifts, specifically giving Peko the gifts to give to you.

Like a treaty.

When you both finally meet he pretends like he has never done such a thing.

Peko tries to keep you away from him, though. It’s a dangerous world and she doesn’t want you to be involved in it.

You don’t see her all the often either. But when you do, it’s when she sneaks into your house.

You’ll go downstairs to her reading silently on your couch. 

You’ve literally just gotten used to it.

She steals some of your clothes, too, since they are more comfortable than anything she owns. 

And in summer time, that’s her opportunity to take all of your long sleeves when you won’t wear them. 

Since your clothes are bigger than hers, too, she usually wears them as pajamas. But if her duty is to blend in, then she will 100% wear your clothes.

Mahiru Koizumi

Makes you model for her all the time.

It’s a bit embarrassing for you, since you don’t consider yourself the most qualified.

But she wouldn’t photograph anyone else.

She’s definitely someone who will try and get any immature male to leave your sight!

Especially Kazuichi for some reason.

When she asked you out, you thought it was a joke at first!

Something that embarrasses you is how she brags about dating you.

She’s no ashamed of who she is, or who you are.

Has a thing for giving gifts wrapped up. She would die to reason something with a ribbon on top.

So you’ll give her little lip glosses and bracelets, putting them in a small box and covering them in glitter for her.

It’s in inner joke between you two for you to get down on one knee when you give her these trinkets.

Because you know if it was an actual proposal the box wouldn’t have Sanrio stickers all over it.

Ibuki Mioda

She’s a very sweet person, very sensitive to your emotions, which you didn’t expect when you asked her out.

She also calls you bubblegum all the time!

And cares about your opinion on anything.

Even though she cares a lot, she has absolutely no idea what to say when you are down.

Likes your body a lot ^ it’s easy to huge. 

If you ever say something negative about yourself she’ll just stand there like |

“What are you talking about? I don’t get it?”

Anyways luv she is your number one hype man.

And you hype her up all the time in return, though no matter how much you do, it never feels like enough.

Mikan Tsumiki

She’s a kissy, smoochy, huggy, cuddly person.

Wants to hold your hand every second of the day.

And it’s fun dating a nurse because she always knows what to do.

“You need more sleep, and maybe less stress!”

Even though she knows it’s bad for both of you, she likes hanging out with you in the morning, drinking her coffee, and eating sweets for breakfast.

Her favorite type of date is one where the two of you watch horror movies together!

Comforting you if you get jump scared, no matter how small, makes her feel better about herself.

She prefers old horror movies over newer ones. Some are so cryptid you haven't even heard of them.

Forces you to watch them sometimes.

She just loves experiencing horror movies with you.

Chiaki Nanami

One of the first times you saw her giggle was when she saw how nervous you got when you asked her out.

Your hands were shaking so she held them to calm you down.

She’s always been the calm one. A good listener, too!

Sleeps on your shoulder almost every day. Even in public. It’s hard to wake her up.

You get to listen to her talk about games for hours. 

If you’re ever insecure, she’ll share with you her favorite character designs of characters that are shaped like you.

She can sense whenever you get uncomfortable in front of other people, too.

Somehow she developed that sense. Like a psychic.

And if you’re standing next to her during that situation, she’ll walk in front of you and just continue walking. The sign is to follow her and dip.

An easy way to get out of that situation.

Will not tolerate you talking bad about yourself, no matter if it’s passive-aggressive or not. 

[igirisuhito]

Title: Afflicted Relationship(s): Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito Rating: Mature Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / ? Chapter Summary: Monokuma has a fresh new motive! Monomi has been a bit too comfortable lately, so why not let the chains go and let the biggest secret they're trying to suppress manifest within the simulation under the guise of illness? Trigger Warnings: Vomiting, Illness, Personality issues Author’s Note: This fic is an AU of sdr2 chapter 3. Rather slow to update. Can’t tell you how long it will run for but if you like to keep track, I recommend subscribing on Ao3.

[Ao3 Link]

┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈

"Hghh-GAH!"

My body shot up involuntarily, kicking me from my sleep. My breathing was laboured and sweat dripped down my forehead, was that a nightmare? As quickly as it had come, the nightmare had completely dissolved, feeling out of reach in the depths of my mind yet leaving a bad taste in my mouth

My body was hot, unusually so. It's so hot here on tropical Jabberwock Island but I was finally starting to get used to it. This heat was more...feverish. Have I come down with something? Can I even get sick here? Surely not.

…Can viruses travel across water?

Pocketing the thought in my mind to ask Tsumiki later, I buttoned my shirt and lifted myself from the bed. My body was heavy, exhausted, like I hadn’t rested in years. Vertigo made the floor deceptively uneven beneath my feet.

Oh god. Something is wrong.

I picked up my jeans from the floor and pulled them on, stumbling slightly as I tried to balance and get my legs in the right holes. I wrapped my tie around my collar and knotted it loosely before quickly slipping my sneakers on, not even bothering to redo the laces. I really should have had a shower with how sticky with sweat my skin was, but I really had to get to breakfast.

A weird thought floated through the back of my mind, it was almost as if I was…underdressed? This is what I wear every day…?

I stepped towards the door slowly. My heart was pounding in my ears, like I'd been running a marathon. Ohhh something was definitely off.

I turned the knob and stepped outside into the daylight. Crap the sun was bright. With slow steps, I made my way from the cabins to the restaurant where everybody usually met up.

My fingers glided along the banister as I stepped up the wooden stairs. This mundane task felt so much more difficult today. Upon making it upstairs and entering through the diner’s side entrance, I was confronted by the sound of loud sobs.

I assumed it was Saionji or Tsumiki, but the sobs didn't quite match those two. They were louder, less whiny. The sight that appeared before me was Owari leaning into Tsumiki's chest, bawling her eyes out and staining the nurse's white apron. It was such an unusual scene, I found myself glancing multiple times to see if it was actually happening.

"Ah! H-hinata! I-i-is there any ch-chance you could please give- give me a hand here?" The Ultimate Nurse stuttered out, clearly distressed and overwhelmed.

I attempted to step forward to help her with Owari, but my body was frozen, stuck in place.

Huh?

"My assistance won't make any difference to her condition."

A deep, unfamiliar voice spoke. I snapped my head around the room attempting to find its owner, but there was only there was only the three of us here.

Was that…? No, surely not. I don't talk in such a pretentious way.

"H-hinata…"

I stared at her with what I assumed was panic. Tsumiki flinched and was now clinging to Owari tighter than Owari had been clinging to her.

"Hey, what the fuck is going on here?" A familiar gruff voice broke the tension.

Kuzuryuu emerged from the stairs and looked towards the two girls clinging to each other desperately. He then glanced to me, expectant of an answer.

"At first glance it would seem the stress of Nidai's loss has finally tipped Owari over the edge and into despair, but it's rather something much more sinister."

There that voice was again! I could feel my lips moving and the words coming out, but there was absolutely no thought of these words going through my mind! The Ultimate Gangster appeared shocked as well.

"Wait what the fuck is wrong with you? You sound like fucking Komaeda."

"Huh? Who sounds like me?"

As if on queue, Komaeda arrived to the scene with Nanami in tow. The girl barely looked up from her device before sitting down at a table.

"Oi, say to Komaeda what you said to me!" Kuzuryuu barked at me.

Oh god this is going downhill so fast.

"I see no reason to repeat myself." Desperately seeking her help, advice, anything, I approached the dining table and sat myself next to the gamer girl.

Nanami paused her game to look at me with a wide eyed expression. "Hinata…" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Amazing! You've finally developed a personality fit for an Ultimate such as yourself!" Komaeda clasped his hands together excitedly. "What brought this on?"

It seemed whatever had possessed me and myself both agreed to ignore the Luckster.

Soon Saionji and Mioda were entering the room, Saionji giggling nefariously behind her small little hand.

"Hey guys look! Ibuki will do whatever I tell her to today!" Saionji yelled across the dining hall enthusiastically. "Ibuki! Go jump on Tsumiki!"

The colourful girl made a salute "Right away, Hiyoko-chan!" and threw herself at the Ultimate Nurse, who was still cradling Owari. Tsumiki screamed as she hit the floor with both Owari and Mioda on top of her.

"My my what's going on?" Sonia and Tanaka emerged from the stairs with a dejected looking Souda trailing behind.

"A new motive!"

A shrill voice shrieked excitedly. Suddenly, a familiar monochromatic bear popped up at the end of the dining table. Man, way too much is happening too fast, especially when I'm feeling like this.

"Motive?" Komaeda was the first to speak up, sounding almost excited.

"That's riiiight! The motive for the next murder! I've decided to inflict some of you with a bad boy I like to call 'Despair Disease!" Monokuma grinned a toothy smile as he addressed everyone in the room.

"I'm sure you've all gotten a good idea of what's happening by now, but I'll give you a nice little rundown regardless, just so you brainless bastards can understand." Monokuma pointed a furry paw at Owari.

"Akane Owari has Coward Disease."

Then to Mioda. "Ibuki Mioda has Gullible Disease."

Then to me. "Hajime Hinata has Apathy Disease."

Huh…me?

I was one of the motives…?

The words left my mouth too quickly once again. "There's no cure then, unless a murder occurs?"

The bear nodded. "That's right my hollow friend! Unless you take advantage of your 'no strings attached' state and kill somebody, you could be stuck like this forever!"

The room got suddenly hotter, forcing me to loosen my tie a bit so I could breathe. My eyes were becoming unfocused and everything was drifting away. The only sounds I could hear were Monokuma's rambles, Owari screaming about her fear of death, and the blood rushing in my ears.

Monokuma had made us the perfect candidates for a killing.

With this thought the world began to spin, even though I was still seated.

"Hinata-san…are you okay?" Chiaki's soft voice was distant as my head became unbearably heavy and the world slipped through my fingers. The last thing I felt was my forehead hitting the wooden dining table.

-

I awoke to the sensation of my muscles being stretched. Specifically, the ones in my arms.

"...ant…d...t...an…….'s t-...eavy…."

"urel….n…..t-m-t….ike…..you -an…ft another person, Souda!"

"I can't! It's not my fault he's so-"

"Ah! Hinata-kun!"

My eyes slowly fluttered open and I groaned. My head ached and there was sweat coating my body from head to toe. I could feel the hard floor on my back, pressing my shirt to stick damply to my skin.

A mess of fluffy white hair and sunken grey eyes was leaning into my gaze. The very sight of Komaeda made me want to close my eyes again.

The two boys were stood at either end of me, Souda still holding my arms up. His face was twisted into an uncomfortable look.

"You pick up heavy machinery almost daily, Souda. You're only feigning this weakness so that you don't have to carry me, right?" I mumbled, letting out an exasperated sigh and glancing back at the pink haired male.

Souda let go of my arms with a shocked expression, allowing them to fall to my side with a thud. "W-what?! I wouldn't do something like that to my soul-friend!"

I examined his expression closely, Souda wore a nervous smile. "How boring. It's not of any issue, I can walk by myself."

I set my palms down on the floor beside me and sat up. Komaeda reached out and uttered a "Wait" when suddenly I was overcome with an aching pain in my head. A small hiss escaped my lips and I faltered.

"It's so incredibly brave of you to try to move yourself, Hinata-kun! However, Tsumiki-san said you shouldn't try to in your state.” Komaeda spoke, concern apparent in his voice. “Souda and I planned to take you to the hospital, unless you don’t want talentless scum like me carrying you!”

“I don’t. I can take care of myself.” I had another go at lifting myself off the floor. My knees stuttered for a moment, but I managed to stand. My head was still pounding, but it was so much more tolerable than allowing myself to be carried.

Komaeda’s expression morphed into one of hurt, but his eyes gleamed with a whole different emotion; intrigue. “Hinata-kun…”

“Seriously Hinata! You could hurt yourself!” Souda objected, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I swatted his hand away and began to walk towards the stairs of the hotel. “Why are you two looking at me like that? You should have expected this.”

Komaeda and Souda stayed silent as I made my slow descent down the stairs. If my hearing was a little bit worse, I probably wouldn’t have heard the “stubborn bastard” Souda eventually muttered out.

I gripped the handrail tightly once I stepped off the last step, now finding myself in the games room. Son of a bitch- my head hurts so badly. It was almost as if somebody was shoving an ice pick through my brain. My body was still glazed with sweat and my eyes bleary. Whatever Monokuma had inflicted us with, it was pretty unbearable.

I know I’ve always been a prideful person, but even in this situation I should be completely fine with leaving my health in the hands of Tsumiki. Being the Ultimate Nurse, she would definitely be able to relieve my symptoms somewhat. But the very thought of seeking help seemed anything but of interest.

What is wrong with me? I thought Monokuma said I had apathy disease, not ‘huge prick’ disease. I felt like a completely different person. The very thought made my throat dry up.

On another note, what does apathy mean again? It means like...not caring, right? So I surely couldn’t be concerned about what Tsumiki thinks of me...I don’t get it. Something just feels incredibly wrong about putting myself in her, or anyone's, hands.

Shoving those thoughts down, I decided to make my way to the third island. The sun made my fever all the more excruciating and I found myself feeling faint, but I powered on anyway.

I crossed the bridge to the centre island, then took the bridge to the third island. I've never been so incredibly grateful for that red and white building to not be on the other side of the island.

I pushed open the door of the hospital building, finding myself in a small reception room. It was painted a dull blue-green colour, and bore a large white reception desk. There was also a small assembly of chairs, forming what I presumed is a waiting area. Kuzuryuu was lounged in one of these chairs in a seemingly uncomfortable position.

The Gangster jumped up the second he saw me, as it he had been awaiting my arrival. “Dude, did you fucking walk here? Did Komaeda and Souda ditch you?!” “Yes, and no. I left them at the hotel.” I explained, making eye contact with the shorter boy.

“Why the fuck would you do that? You’re sick as a dog! You passed out at breakfast, remember?!”

“I recall.”

“Then why’d you-”

“I don’t need to explain my actions to you.”

Kuzuryuu’s face twisted in a scowl, before he sighed and dropped all emotion from his face. “Man I don’t get this shit. Just go talk to Tsumiki okay? She’s in the first room treating Owari’s fever.”

I nodded and made my way into the hallway past the desk. There were doors on the left, labelled with numbers, patient rooms. On the right were windowed rooms with various…Monokuma displays?

Something about this place made my headache even worse.

I swallowed down the feeling and opened the door to the firsr room, stepping inside and quietly closing the door behind me. The room was filled with the loud sound of Owari sobbing her heart out. At this point, her voice was beginning to break, sounding hoarse and desperate. Tsumiki whirled around to face me, a wet rag in hand.

“H-Hinata! I-I-I’m glad you’re- you’re here. If y-you’d like, um, y-you can go rest in the second room. I’ll be- um, w-with you in a sec!” She stammered out, flashing a forced smile.

“I’ll stay there, as I assume the others will see me as a contagion risk, but I don’t wish for you to treat me.” I spoke sternly.

Tsumiki looked shocked, and then tears began to drip from her eyes. “I-I-I’m s-sorry! I-I didn’t know that- that I-I was in-in-inadequate in my n-nursing!”

I left the room before I had to listen to her cry any further, it was boring to listen to somebody act to so pathetically. As I stepped back out into the hallway, a rush of dizziness and nausea overcame me. I staggered slightly and leant an arm on the nearest wall, squeezing my eyes shut tight and trying to still the room around me.

Jesus Christ I feel like crap.

Light footsteps approached in my direction. I couldn't see who it was, but the sound of metal chain clinking against itself hinted as to who the footsteps' owner might be.

Komaeda's voice sounded cheerful. “Hinata-kun! Kuzuryuu-san told me you made it here okay! Ah, you look awfully-”

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, I understand. It’s only natural for you to have that reaction upon running into somebody like me.” Komaeda laughed at his own self-deprecation.

“No, Komae-” I gagged on my words and quickly pressed a hand over my mouth.

Komaeda’s eyes went wide, followed by a soft “oh”. The boy then grabbed my wrist, pulling me into the second patient’s room. The room had a small ensuite bathroom, much alike most hospitals. I didn’t bother looking around too much, instead opting to make my way into the bathroom as quickly as possible. I spied the toilet and removed the hand from my mouth, opting to lean it against the cistern and sinking to my knees.

I heaved into the toilet, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes as my throat burned and my head screamed. This feeling was utterly...despairing.

After what felt like hours, my stomach had finally begun to calm down. I wiped my mouth with a groan and laid my face on the cool tiles of the floor.

“That’s kind of unhygienic, you know.” A breathy voice spoke from the doorway.

“It doesn’t matter.” I mumbled.

I heard Komaeda’s footsteps come closer, followed by a cool hand being pressed to my forehead. A quiet sigh escaped my mouth in relief.

“You’re incredibly hot, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda paused for longer than necessary, “Hang on, I’ll go get Tsumiki.”

He removed his hand from my forehead and I groaned out in annoyance. “Nooo.”

“Huh? Why don’t you want me to go get Tsumiki.”

“I don’t want to be treated.”

“Wh- why?”

“I want to see what happens.”

Komaeda laughed a wheezy little laugh. "Hinata-kun, normally I'd agree to anything you say, but an Ultimate like yourself shouldn't force yourself to go through something like this."

“Your opinion on the matter isn’t important, Komaeda. I’m just telling you not to get Tsumiki.” I stated firmly. “Besides, knowing the people here, it won’t be long before a murder occurs and I'm free from this.”

Komaeda tilted his head, looking somewhat intrigued by my statement. He had hardly reacted to my harsh words. “Not that I disagree, but why do you think that will be the case?”

I shrugged slightly and pushed myself up from the floor, now sitting up. The room was still spinning dangerously around me. “You’re all psychotic. That’s all.”

This statement seemed to tickle Komaeda, as he laughed and drew a big grin on his face. “It’s surprising how much more honest you are at the moment. Has your new apathetic outlook made you unbothered with hurting people’s feelings?”

I sighed. “You can sit here and philosophise all you like about the despair disease and its impacts. I’m going to go get a drink to calm this migraine."

I pulled myself up, slowly rising to my feet when a shocking pain pulsed through my head again.

"Ghuh-!"

My legs went weak and Komaeda reached out, grabbing hold of my torso to keep me from crashing to the floor below.

"You probably shouldn't try to do that." He muttered, gripping my waist tightly.

"No shit. Let go." I hissed, reaching out and latching on to Komaeda's shoulders.

The boy laughed heartily, making no attempt to remove his hands. "You tell me to let go whilst using my body to prop yourself up? You're awfully strange Hinata-kun."

Komaeda moved to my side and, removing one of his arms from my waist and now placing his hand over mine. "Please put your arm around my shoulder, we should just get you to your bed."

I sighed loudly in defeat and placed my arm around Komaeda's shoulder. The boy nodded and slowly started to move forward.

"I really don't need your help for this Komaeda."

"I know. Thankyou for allowing me to assist you, even if garbage like myself isn't worthy to."

I didn't bother to entertain Komaeda with a response. Instead I leaned more of my body weight onto the boy and groaned.

"It's alright, Hinata-kun, you're doing an amazing job." Komaeda breathed in a hushed tone.

The sound of his voice so close to me made me shiver, but it provided a momentary distraction from the pain.

My knees bumped into something hard and I looked up, realising we had made it across the room. Komaeda slipped his hand out from my waist and helped me lower myself to sit on the mattress.

"God I'm so hot." I murmured.

Komaeda pressed a cool hand to my cheek, making me sigh in relief. Using his right hand, he pressed his fingers into the knot of my tie, pulling it further undone from my neck.

"You should probably change into a hospital gown, it would at least be much cooler than wearing jeans." Komaeda spoke in a low voice.

He must be trying to help my migraine by being quiet. How…considerate of him?

"I...you're right." I sighed, bringing my fingers to undo the top button of my shirt.

Komaeda backed off, removing his hand from my face quickly. "Oh, Hinata-kun! Should I leave?"

I undid the rest of my buttons and shrugged off my shirt and tie. "Do what you want."

The boy nodded quickly, his cheeks were slightly flushed. "I-I'm going to get you a gown." And with that, he dashed out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

Weirdo.

I undid my belt and lifted my hips from the bed, carefully wiggling myself out of my jeans. They were awfully tight on my body, probably from the sweat of the fever.

I discarded my jeans and laid back on the bed with a groan. I probably shouldn't lie down yet, but I'm so goddamn sore and tired. The bed was hard and uncomfortable, but it was so nice to be off my feet for even a moment.

The door opened again and in stepped Komaeda, holding a folded up gown in his hands. "Ah, Hinata-kun, are you okay?"

"No." I mumbled, rolling over so I was now face-down in the pillow.

"I'm sorry, can I get you anything?" Komaeda spoke softly as a weight sat on the edge of the bed, most likely him.

"Water."

"Can do." The weight disappeared once again. "I left your gown on the bed if you want to change."

"Mhm." I mustered the strength to push myself up before scanning my eyes around the room. Komaeda was gone once again, I never heard the door click when he left, how strange.

I picked up the gown from the edge of the mattress. It was incredibly lightweight, but the linen was soft. I slipped my arms into the sleeves and pulled it up onto my shoulders. I then tied it around the waist loosely and sat back down on the bed.

Komaeda returned a few moments later with a tray holding a jug of water and a cup. He set the tray down on the bedside table and began to pour a cup of water.

"Are you feeling any better, Hinata-kun?" He quizzed, not taking his eyes away from what he was doing.

"I'm less hot." I mumbled.

"That's good." The boy turned to me, holding a plastic cup of water in his outstretched hand. I took it carefully with two hands, raising it to my lips and sipping.

The cool water felt like heaven on my burning throat. I squeezed my eyes closed tight and drank the whole cup, finishing with a pleased sigh.

"Ah, you probably shouldn't drink too fast, you don't want to make yourself sick again." Komaeda smiled and took the cup from my hands.

"That would be exciting though, wouldn't it? To be desperately seeking a release from pain only for it to make things worse? Actually, no, that's so incredibly predictable…" I babbled out, somewhat dazed and sleepy now that the ache in my throat was relieved.

"Haha, you're starting to sound a bit like me. How scary." Komaeda chuckled to himself, pouring another cup of water.

I slowly lowered my body back onto the bed, resting my head against the pillow. "Mmnn...it would be most unfortunate to have a mindset as boring as yours."

Komaeda gave a sad smile and placed the plastic cup onto the tray. "I think I'll go. I need to talk to Kuzuryuu-san about what everybody else is doing. Please call for Tsumiki-san if you need anything."

"Mmm."

The last thing I heard was the sound of Komaeda muttering to himself and the click of the door behind him. Fatigue took hold and I found myself falling into a deep sleep.

[nanamicide]

Red Butterflies - chapter 1

This is my attempt at getting back into writing and at Kamunami. I hope you enjoy! 

This is basically an AU in which Sakakura told Munakata what he knew about Junko.

Summary: Chiaki Nanami hasn’t seen Hajime Hinata in over a year, and she’s finally decided to move on. 

Read on AO3

The sun was about to set when Chiaki Nanami finally gave up and decided to head back to her dorm. Despite the sunlight hitting her face, she wasn’t feeling warm or grateful for the beauty of the moment. There once was a time when she would look at the sky turning orange, basking the buildings that made up the academy in majestic  golden light, and she’d think about how lucky she was to be witnessing that moment. But that feeling was gone. It had slowly left her, along with him. She had to face it: he wouldn’t be joining her anymore, no matter how long she waited. It had been over a year since she’d last seen him, after all. And yet, part of her still hoped that she would see him again. That even if she hadn’t managed to work up the courage to tell him how she felt, she would get the chance to make up for it eventually. Wrapping her fingers around her backpack straps, she sighed. It hurt, but she wouldn’t wait anymore. Hinata-kun wasn’t coming back. She knew it.

The sun continued to set, and Chiaki stared at the ground as she slowly walked towards the place she’d been calling home for the past two years. She tried to remember their last encounter, as if it could hold some sort of answer. But just like every night for the past year, the list of questions she needed to find a response to only grew bigger with every effort she made to ease her pain. It was true that a lot had happened in the year he had stopped showing up to play video games with her, but it all seemed completely unrelated to what had been going on with them. Almost as if they had nothing to do with it. This meant that whatever she was looking for lay in her memory of the last evening they’d spent time together. There was only one problem: as time went by, that memory was fading away. She remembered everything about him, from how the color of his suit and hair made his green eyes stand out, to his smile and the way he would chuckle every time she beat him at video games. If she focused just hard enough, she could still hear his voice, and her heart would start beating faster when she’d recall the way he would say her name. But she couldn’t remember anything she’d done or said. There was something so special about him. And that special thing, even though she had no idea what it was or what to call it, had made her feel as though she was drunk every time she’d spent time with him. And because of that, she couldn’t remember what had pushed him away from her.

She walked in her room, kicked her shoes off and closed the curtains to avoid the golden light that painfully reminded her of him.

“I’m home,” she spoke softly, as if to snap herself out of her thoughts.

She was grateful that there was nothing special about her room. Other than the few video game posters she’d hung over the time she’d spent here, it looked just like any high school student’s dorm room. That was what she liked so much about it. She could just sit here for hours, playing the games she liked so much without being reminded of how special she was for attending Hope’s Peak Academy and being class rep. It was true that when it had first happened, Chiaki was thrilled with both of these opportunities, especially the latter. But now without Hinata-kun around, it felt like a sham when she was at her lowest. What was so special about her if the only guy she had ever felt anything towards had been able to completely cut contact with her out of nowhere? Sure, she was good at video games and remained undefeated, but that was all there was to her talent. In a way, she thought it was all there was to her as a person, and she hated it. He’d made her feel different, confident almost, and she missed it. She missed him. That was why she had kept the habit pf waiting for him near the fountain every day after he classes ended, even a year after he had stopped showing up. She longed for him, and for all the things he’d made her feel in their short time together.

No more of this, she thought. Sure, every moment I’ve spent with Hinata-kun was amazing, but I can’t keep feeling this way. I didn’t do anything to him. I tried my best to help him and to make him feel like his lack of talent didn’t mean anything to me. It’s not my fault he stopped hanging out with me. It’s not my fault the feelings were one-sided. Chiaki took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. It’s just a shame he disappeared a few days before the academy finally started changing for the best. It’s probably why it’s so hard to move on. I don’t know what he’s up to, and I don’t know if Munakata-san’s way of running things has helped him. I hope it has, and I wish I could see it for myself. I wish I could give him back what he’s given me, even though he’s taken it all away so abruptly.

She crashed onto her bed and closed her eyes. Even though she couldn’t help herself, she knew it was pointless to keep thinking about it. She had to move on now and let her life go back to normal. That’s why she’d made her decision: this evening was the last time she’d wait for him by the fountain. She had waited long enough. Besides, it was about time she’d stop neglecting her class rep duties. She slapped her cheeks and sat up. If she’d just try, things would turn out okay, right? Hinata-kun may have abandoned her, but Yukizome-sensei and her classmates had chosen her as class rep, and regardless of how she’d been acting since he stopped showing up to their gaming sessions, that hadn’t changed. She had to gain back that confidence her first year at Hope’s Peak had given her. And to make that happen, she knew she had to look back on her time with him as a positive experience that had helped her grow as a person, rather than as something she needed in her life to feel good. Of course, all of this was easier said than done, and she knew it as well. But she would still try. She finally felt ready. It was as though deciding to stop waiting around for Hinata-kun to come back had lifted a huge weight off her chest; a weight that had been keeping her from having the strength to move forward and keep growing for a year.

Figuring that it was enough introspecting for the day, Chiaki grabbed her gaming console and turned it on. For now, she would just do what she did best. But since today marked the day she finally gave up on Hinata-kun, she would do something she hadn’t done in a year. She would play with someone else, and she would beat them. Games are fun, she smiled to herself. I can enjoy and share them with people who aren’t Hinata-kun. Focusing on the bright screen and smashing the controls almost rhythmically, Chiaki did just that. She hadn’t played against someone else in what felt like forever, but she was happy to notice that it hadn’t gotten boring, even though Hinata-kun would never be her opponent again. However, that specific match didn’t last long.

“Huh? I lost?” Chiaki’s eyes widened. She had never lost against anyone else before. There was a reason why Hope’s Peak Academy had recruited her as the Ultimate Gamer. Well, maybe I was just too lost in thought to win this one. She quickly opened the chat room and typed in two simple words: Rematch please? She wanted to know if there now was someone who was better at video games than she was, or if she had really just been too distracted by all the introspecting she had done earlier. She was practically sure it wouldn’t be the former, but she entertained the thought as she waited for her opponent’s reply. What exactly would she do? Would she be just another high school girl? Would she have to leave Hope’s Peak?

The sound of the chat notification brought her attention back to the screen. The words ‘No. This is boring.’ had appeared, and she couldn’t believe it. Had she really been so bad that the person she’d been playing against had been bored the entire time? She quickly typed an apology, explaining that she would be more focused this time and promising that the rematch wouldn’t be boring. A few seconds later, the stranger obliged and started another game. Chiaki sat up, furrowed her brow, and gave it her all. She couldn’t let anyone believe that the games she loved so much were boring, especially not after playing against her. But no matter how hard she tried, she lost again. She was confused. It’d never happened before. How could this person beat her twice in a row?

It wasn’t long before the chat notification snapped her out of her thoughts again. And once again, the screen read a short and simple sentence: ‘As expected, I won. Boring.’ Chiaki felt slightly frustrated. Sure, she’d stopped playing with other people after Hinata-kun had disappeared, but she had kept playing on her own. There was no way she’d just become bad at video games. She replied, asking the opponent if he wanted to try another game. In a way, no matter how frustrating this was, she had to admit she also felt excited about it. There was something thrilling about not knowing whether she’d win or not. That didn’t mean she hadn’t had fun every time she’d played with her classmates, but this was different. And right now, she liked different. Routine was comforting, but something new would make it easier to move and stop brooding over what happened a year ago. Once the stranger accepted to play another game, she hurriedly sent them a friend request. Izukura, huh? If I just try, if I give it my best, I’ll win. And you won’t be able to call this boring a third time.

This went on like this for hours, until the mysterious Izukura disconnected and stopped responding to her messages. However, Chiaki wasn’t bothered by it. For the first time since Hinata-kun had left, she had fun playing video games. It didn’t matter that she’d lost every single match they had played together. She was only grateful that she got to experience this. And to think I could have experienced this a few months ago, if only I had chosen to move on. How silly am I? She got off her bed and opened the curtains. The golden light of the sunset had given place to the dark shades of the night. Chiaki looked up at the moon and thought that the scenery was just as beautiful as the one she was used to meeting Hinata-kun in.

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: Surprisingly, We Made It!

Author: @thatsrightdollface

For: @namsuuuuuuu

Rating/Warnings: This is probably somewhere between G and T, tbh.  I guess I might tag this for the idea that Chiaki is mentioned as dead?   She’s… A ghost.  This is a fantasy AU!

Prompt: komaeda and hinata both trying to break into the same place on the same night by accident, only to be chased by the police upon meeting and having to hide in a closet/cupboard/safe together until they leave

Author’s Notes: Hi!!!  I hope you enjoy this~ :D  It’s the first gift out of three that I have for you this time, so please be on the lookout for the others!!!  Rounded up, this is about 3,000 words.  

The museum became a different place at night — Nagito Komaeda had known it would, but it was something else to see those bustling halls transformed into a grey-tile tomb like this.  The display cases seemed to watch him pass, waiting and polished, decorated with dead things: mummified hands, chipped pottery, swords people had assured him were definitely haunted when he took the museum’s official tour earlier that day.  Komaeda was good at drifting through places most of the time.  He was sure no one from his tour group would remember him when the museum started looking into suspects the next morning.

Komaeda smiled at somebody’s death mask, sitting propped up on a green velvet display in one of those glass cases.  He wouldn’t be here long.  He’d just take what he needed and be on his way.  The security systems fizzled out as Komaeda wandered by, after all.  Bits of dust formed over the cameras, crawling like mold.  This wouldn’t be the first piece of the puzzle to Komaeda’s life he’d stolen out of a museum. If he unraveled the whole mystery of his good luck/horrible luck curse, the roller coaster balance of his existence, maybe Komaeda would even get to rest someday.  Maybe he’d finally know what any of the ridiculous things that happened to him meant.

Komaeda hummed to himself as he strode through the museum.  He patted a display of a saber tooth tiger on the head and murmured, “Hi, kitty,” in a sing-song voice — he was wearing torn clothes, and the edges of his hair were singed from a fire that’d started out of thin air in his hotel room yesterday morning.  Even the air was subject to Komaeda’s madcap luck, see?  His curse.  Even the air would have to explain itself when Komaeda found the crumbly ancient book he’d come here for.  And, you know, figured out how to read it.  He had an anthropologist contact lined up.  It would be alright.

Things always swung back around, for Komaeda.  The dice rolled into a winning order even if they were weighted to go the other way.  At a cost, of course.  Always at a cost.

Komaeda wouldn’t have to pick the display case lock to get the book he needed, he didn’t think.  The thing would just fall right into his open hands, somehow, and then he’d turn on his heal and head out.  The museum smelled like freshly mopped floors and old, rotting paper.  When Komaeda’d passed a security guard earlier, he had waved cheerfully and pretended to flash a badge.  It worked.  It so often worked, and then Komaeda got arrested for a murder he didn’t commit or something just going out to buy bread.  He was used to it.  As used to it as a person could be, he thought.

When the cop bellowed, “Get back here, you!” somewhere off in the distance, well…  Komaeda murmured, “Oh no,” to himself almost playfully, as if he were keeping up the game.  But then he heard some frantic pounding footsteps right behind him…  The skidding of sneakers  over freshly washed tile, the shattering of a display glass window, all that.  He started to walk a little faster, glancing over his shoulder.

A guy with spiky hair blew by Komaeda, breathing heavily, sneakers squeaking all over the floor in possibly the least-stealthy way possible.  “Get out of here!” the spiky haired guy called.  “Officer Nidai’s not messing around!”

Officer Nidai?  Wonderful.  Komaeda knew Officer Nekomaru Nidai all too well.  Just his luck that guy would be here, wasn’t it?  He’d been suspicious of Komaeda ever since he turned up in town.  Whenever somebody caught Nagito Komaeda in the act, of course he just slipped away again like water between cracks in the concrete.  Like clouds dissolving into the sky.  His luck, eventually, turned.  Always, always.  But that didn’t mean people couldn’t try their own luck at catching him, every now and again.  It was annoying, but Komaeda shrugged off fatal things as “annoying” so often nowadays he was beginning to forget the meaning of the word.

Komaeda sighed and ran a hand through his pale, flyaway hair.  It would’ve been no good to lose this chance — he was so desperately close to another piece of his puzzle.  He stared running, too, and by the time he found an open door to duck inside it sounded like Officer Nidai had been joined by a whole crew of cop-friends in the museum hallways.  They were calling encouragement to each other, or something.  Listening to them might’ve been pretty goofy, under different circumstances.  So tragically earnest. It was like they were living in a separate world than the one Komaeda knew.

“What rotten luck,” Komaeda told the cramped, empty room he’d found himself in.  Or, the room he thought was empty, anyway.

The spiky haired boy who’d been charging through the halls flicked on a desk lamp, peering up at Komaeda with a baffled, frustrated expression on.  He’d been hiding under a table, it looked like, and up close Komaeda could see a whole stash of video game stuff secured in a cutesy canvas shopping bag over his shoulder.  Was that what he snuck in here to steal?  That?  There were so many priceless jeweled glass eyes in this particular museum, so many spells written in actual molten gold ink.  Did this guy seriously just rob the Lost and Found?

“Rotten luck?  That’s, uh, one way of putting it.  I swear I locked that door,” the spiky-haired guy hissed.  Komaeda nodded.  Yes, he probably had.  Locked doors didn’t really have anything on a luck-curse, though, did they?

Komaeda locked the door behind him, again, nodding to the boy under the table with a careful smile.  Testing the door so he could see it didn’t just swing open this time, revealing them both to the hall.  The office they’d ended up in was one of those glorified broom closet spaces, books stacked haphazardly everywhere.  There were pinned butterflies hanging on the walls, and dusty photograph frames buried under paperwork on the desk.  There weren’t any windows or obvious trapdoors leading to secret museum catacombs around — yes, Komaeda had found himself stuck in museum-catacombs before, and he’d nearly starved to death before making his way back to the gift shop.  Not a good chance of that here, though, it didn’t look like.  For better or for worse.

Komaeda sized the spiky haired guy up for a second — he was cute, in a flustered, running-headlong-through-a-museum-at-two-AM kind of way.   His hands were broad and warm-looking; his eyes were challenging and proud, as if he were half-convinced Komaeda was a double agent for the museum or something.

“Looks like we’re stuck,” Komaeda said.  “Don’t worry.  I’m sure they’ll go away soon.”

They didn’t, of course.  Just his luck.

…

Hajime Hinata had only been messing around with supernatural nonsense for a handful of weeks, now, and even he could tell the guy he met on his poorly-planned-out museum heist was soaked in weird old curses.   They clung to this dizzy-eyed stranger same as his own skin, same as his shadow.  Hinata would’ve guessed the guy’d been born with those curses already latched on, honestly, and they were at least part of the reason he could slip locked doors open without even trying.  Part of why his smile looked wrong, too, somehow, like Hinata would always be looking at him through a funhouse mirror.

From the stolen-back bag of video game stuff slung over his shoulder, Hinata’s friend Chiaki Nanami said, “We should keep an eye on this guy, maybe, Hajime.  Everyone he loved died…  Messy.  They’re whispering about it right now.”

Chiaki had died so recently, it still didn’t feel real.  She had hung on to pieces of her life without really meaning to, so…  Of course Hinata was doing his best to gather her back up.  Chiaki had been his best friend since they were learning to count, after all.  They had played a few of the games in her old canvas bag together, but not all of them by a long shot.  It was better Chiaki speak through these clunky things — through her old hair ribbons and photographs and commemorative game art books — than disappear completely, if you asked Hinata.  The museum people hadn’t been willing to give him the bag during the day, so this was what had to happen next, right?

He’d tried this the easy way.  At least he had to give himself that. Hinata shifted Chiaki’s bag a little way out of the cursed guy’s view. If anything, the stranger looked softly amused by his efforts. He shook his head.

“I’m not interested in your prizes,” he told Hinata, voice swaying and almost, almost prim.  A former rich-kid’s voice.  “I’m sure you have your reasons for everything, just like I do.  Right?”  After a few moments of awkward, waiting silence, the guy drifted over to the far wall of that tiny office — maybe it was Hinata’s imagination, but it looked like he was feeling through the stacked book piles there with his eyes gently closed.  Trustingly closed.  Eventually, the stranger pulled back, holding a notebook full of dark green pen scribbles that seemed to squirm over the pages.  His rattling laugh was low and muffled in his chest — still a little too loud for Hinata’s comfort though.   Obviously.

“The beginnings of a translation…!” the dizzy-eyed boy murmured. He had to know Hinata had no idea what he was talking about, didn’t he?   “What are the odds, what are the —”

“Could you shut the hell up?  Seriously?” Hinata said.  “Don’t you hear Officer Nidai’s buddies down the hall?”

“Oh, yes,” said the stranger, turning to Hinata with wide eyes and a shaky smile.  “But they won’t hear me unless they’re supposed to.  I’m sorry — you don’t know that…”

“No, I don’t,” Hinata confirmed.

The stranger considered this.  He said, “It was good of you to tell me to run back there.  You’re probably a kind person, aren’t you, Mr. Pointy-Hair?”

“Hinata,” said Hinata, before immediately kicking himself. You’re really, really not supposed to tell people your actual name if you’re trying to rob a place!  …  Even if they’re trying to rob the same damn place, apparently?  Or at least they’re getting weirdly excited about the chance to snoop through somebody’s spooky notebook?

“His name is Komaeda,” Chiaki offered from the bag at Hinata’s side. “Nagito Komaeda. If he gives you a different name…”

But Nagito Komaeda didn’t throw around any fake names at all.  He grinned, amazed and warm and slightly mocking, like he couldn’t believe Hinata had actually handed him his name so earnestly.  He stepped over to sit in front of Hinata, moving gingerly, sitting cross-legged on the ground.  He said, “You’re new at this, aren’t you?”

“I’m not exactly making a career out of sneaking into museums, no,” Hinata said, glaring.  “I’m not some comic book supervillain, or anything like that.”

The dizzy-eyed stranger chewed on his lip, thoughtful.  Hinata wasn’t entirely sure he got the joke.  He said, “In that case…  Please, call me Komaeda.  It’s the least I can do.”  His voice was so wandering, hazy and formal both at once.  The notebook disappeared into a pocket inside his long, tattered coat; up close, Hinata realized this stranger — Komaeda — smelled like burning.  His skin was a crisscross of faded scars.

The office/closet doorknob rattled furiously, about then.  Somebody grunted, “Keys’s not working…!” and then, louder, “Wait — damn key snapped off in my hand!”  They stalked away, and Komaeda nodded, again. Serene as anything, as if stuff like this happened to him every day.

“They‘ll come back,” he said.  “Officer Nidai is a persistent one.”   He might’ve looked self-conscious for a second — realizing he sounded like a hardened crook, or something — because he added, “Or so I’ve heard.  But we have a little while yet, I think.  Are those games in your bag any good?”

“These are my friend’s —” Hinata protested…  But Chiaki shushed him.  Gently.

She said, “They’re your games, now, really,” and “This isn’t my body, Hajime.  Only a window…  You know that.  I can look away, sometimes.  I’ll look away for a little while now, if you want.”

Everyone Nagito Komaeda loved died messily, Chiaki had said.  She didn’t say it again now, but Hinata thought maybe she was reconsidering this dizzy-eyed stranger.  At the very least, he might know how to hurry out of a museum in the middle of the night without getting caught.  He might know what it was like to lose a friend, too, and to want to believe that couldn’t be true with all his heart.  Hinata might get something out of talking to a person like him.

“Be careful,” said Chiaki.  “And be nice, okay?  Unless he turns out to be a jerk.  A cursed jerk.”  Hinata could’ve sworn she was snickering.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Komaeda’s already giving you ‘I-like-you’ eyes.”

“He is not,” grumbled Hinata.

Komaeda tactfully ignored that last bit.  He said, “Ooh, your friend has ‘Void Escape 2.’ I like that one.”  Komaeda glanced at the door, and then back to Hinata.  “I’ve…  Never played two-player mode, actually.   We could kill a little time?”

This was absurd. This was a million-to-one chance meeting.  This was…

This was Hinata hiding in some musty middle-of-the-night museum office, offering a cursed, supervillain-y stranger snacks from his bag. Trying out a video game together.  What the hell?!

Hinata should’ve known better. On so many levels, he should have known.  But, apparently…  No.

When Officer Nidai finally got that particular office door open, Hinata and Komaeda huddled together under the tiny desk, close enough that the smell of burning felt everywhere for a little while.  Close enough that Komaeda’s wavy singed hair brushed Hinata’s cheek. They’d draped Komaeda’s coat over the both of them in some sort of effort to look like just another lumpy pile.  Maybe books, or crinkled papers, or whatever it was museum researchers wore out in the field.

The notebook Komaeda had been trying to smuggle away felt cold against Hinata’s skin, twitching like a living thing.

Officer Nidai didn’t find them.  Somehow.  Honestly, they made such a terrible pile of paper/field clothes/random crap that Hinata was fairly surprised.  Komaeda, though…  Komaeda shrugged it off and said, “Alright, then.  That’s our cue: time to go!”

They snuck out the museum’s dusky hallways together, then, with Komaeda holding Hinata’s sleeve and guiding him down what he claimed was “the luckiest” path to the parking lot.  The sky was huge and hollow-looking up above them, when they finally made it. Hinata had parked his car at the grocery store down the road — he gave Komaeda a ride back into the city, even though Komaeda’d assured him he would have found his way no matter what.

Just before dropping Komaeda off down some lonely backstreet — one of those tipped-over-garbage-can-alleys, without a proper street name anywhere — Hinata asked something he knew would haunt him whether he managed to choke it out or not.  He asked for Komaeda’s phone number, whatever his curses.  Whatever a weird night this had been.  He tried to ask casually, the way Chiaki might have.  Like he only wanted to be friends. Like he was just a little worried about him, even though…  Huh.

Something had felt right and warm, so familiar, about Komaeda’s hand on Hinata’s sleeve.  About Komaeda’s spinning, smothered laughter.  Whoever he was, whatever he’d done.  Whatever exactly had been translated in that notebook waiting tucked against his heart, just then.

Komaeda shook his head no, and Hinata muttered something embarrassed.  Said to forget he asked; glowered at the road.  Komaeda watched him, apparently baffled.  He folded his arms around himself, leaning the back of his head against Hinata’s car door window.  He would leave dark ash smeared on the glass, when he left.

“I…  Have no idea why you’d want to call someone like me,” Komaeda offered, after a moment of tension, the dark city passing by all around them.  After he’d apparently hunted around his mind for the right words and come back feeling empty-handed.  “I don’t even have a phone.  Never keep any number for long…”  He cleared his throat.  “If you want, though, you can give me your number. I’ll check in with you, until it gets…”  An awkward laugh, here.  “Until you tell me to stop, I guess.”

Maybe that should’ve been enough to scare Hinata off, but he scribbled his number down on a scrap of paper torn out of that cryptic, slithering-ink notebook Komaeda’d stolen anyway.  He couldn’t believe he was doing it, even as his pen slipped and Komaeda clarified, “Is that an eight or a four, Hinata?” in a soft, wondering voice.

Hinata told him, and Komaeda murmured the full number back, very solemn.  Like a promise.

Hinata took a long, roundabout way home, that night, and Komaeda waved after him until he’d disappeared off to kinder streets.  He turned around on the worn-slick heel of his shoe and started humming again, the way he had back in the museum.  It was a hopeful song, maybe.  It was almost morning.

[blackjacketmuses]

hc; team dr and the show

DRV3 headcanons for the actual Danganronpa TV show and other pertinent things!

Under a cut for length, whew!

DR Seasons

Previous: two main games + anime + UDG + light novels etc; the Hope’s Peak Arc

Year 1 - s1-6

Year 2 - s7-12

Year 3 - s13-18

Year 4 - s19-24

Year 5 - s25-30

Year 6 - s31-36

Year 7 - s37-42

Year 8 - s43-48

Year 9 (final) s49-53

Recent History / The Fall of DR

In between years 6 and 7, the team switched the full writing team out from professionals to megafans -- there was a pretty big recruitment drive on the forums. The new team started writing on season 37.

From that point on, some fans noticed a slow downturn in the writing of the series. The fanwriters would pull from previous seasons -- especially the Hope’s Peak Saga -- for much of their plot elements and backstory, and even in victim/culprit/motives. A lot of things became derivative as the fanwriters only focused on feeding their nostalgia and repeating what they loved about the show, and some complaints were made on forums of how tropey, cliche, and sterotypical the plot and characters got at points, especially with the slow increase in pop culture references. Not only that, but things kept getting more brutal.

But despite a chunk of the fandom disliking the way the show was going, most fans didn’t care -- the dissatisfied fans were outnumbered by those who loved the show still. To them, it was the repeated elements that kept them coming back. The murders, the death, the familiar and beloved plot elements and the characters that fought despair to make sure hope always won, that was what they wanted. Maybe for some of them it was cathartic, but it blinded them to how the series was going downhill. All they wanted was their fix.

In season 49, the newest in-game Mastermind was introduced: a cosplayer and megafan named Tsumugi Shirogane, who had been on the writing staff since season 42. It was then that a larger portion of the fans became disillusioned, as Tsumugi slowly began the worst run of the show’s history: as the seasons ticked by, it was clear that the woman was obsessed with the Hope’s Peak Arc and the series was her life -- to unhealthy levels. And in the five seasons she ran, she visibly treated the whole thing like her personal dollhouse, living out her fantasy of being the next Junko gleefully with no consideration for anything but her own personal enjoyment.

Four seasons went by relatively calmly -- even if they were increasingly erratic and increasingly full of pop culture references and tropes and stereotypes -- and then...no one is sure what the catalyst was for Tsumugi Shirogane’s complete psychotic break, but it happened on live TV at the climax of season 53 after one of the most plot-hole-filled and ridiculous season’s in the show’s history. It and the protagonist’s -- Shuichi Saihara -- speech to the fandom at large finally struck a chord with even the diehards in the RoboChat, and the season was shut down with a non-ending.

In the wake of this, a lawsuit has been filed -- Rantaro Amami, Kaede Akamatsu, Shuichi Saihara, et al. vs. Team Danganronpa -- in which the participants of Season 53, as well as others from previous seasons, are seeking reparations. The charges filed are, among other things, Endangerment of Minors, Criminal Negligence, Copyright Infringement, Defamation, Improper Medical Care, and a whole hell of a lot of damages thanks to psychological trauma.

The show has been suspended pending a thorough investigation into the studio -- there have been hints that the show has been operating without proper paperwork or inspections.

How The Show Works

Danganronpa is a virtual reality game show. The contestants -- 14 of them, plus the mastermind (a staff member who works with the crew from inside the game) and the AI audience camera “Robot” -- are all given the most basic of debriefs (their memories will temporarily be suppressed in favor of their in-game character’s persona, and they will believe the game is real), and are then all hooked up to the computer simulation via Virtual Reality Pods.

Once inside the ‘game’, as mentioned, their real selves are temporarily suppressed and replaced by their character’s persona -- they keep their name and appearance, but are otherwise turned into Ultimate students. The contestants all choose only the basics of their personas, the application form having a request section, but the final say on talent, backstory, and personality is the studio and writers’. They do not tell the contestants what their personas will contain beforehand. However, their personas cannot be far from their true selves: the simulation cannot rewrite personalities entirely, simply enhance certain traits or diminish other ones, or add a few odd quirks. Most contestants are similar to -- but not exact and certainly not as intense as, their in-game personas.

The contestants, once they are in the game, do no longer know that they are in a game, and believe the events of said game are completely real -- as such, the trauma and death feels completely and utterly real to them. Once a contestant dies in game, they are released from the simulation, and are taken to the medical room for a cursory physical examination in order to make sure their avatar’s ‘death’ did not leave any physical damage. This done, they are sent to the Contestant Lounge (a comfortable room with chairs, cots, a bathroom, a snackbar, and a huge TV showing the live stream) where they are to await the season’s end. They are allowed their phones back, but they are only allowed to call immediate family, and they are not allowed to leave until the season is over.

Fandom

While the fandom was almost entirely unified before the Writer Swap, afterwards it became more split. While roughly a quarter of the fandom became increasingly dissatisfied with the direction the show was taking under the new staff of fanwriters, most of them did not mind, and some didn’t even notice a change. Arguments broke out between Diehards and the rest, who collectively coined the term Reserves for themselves after the Reserve Course in SDR2, and though nothing came to real-world blows, there was definitely a schism.

The Reserves grew in number after season 49 onwards, and eventually even the Diehards had to admit the show wasn’t what it used to be, thus its shutdown after season 53.

Popular Knowledge

Unlike Tsumugi’s claims in the climax of season 53, the series is far from universally watched. It is a rather popular show, but it isn’t near top ten, or even top fifty. It isn’t even broadcast on TV itself: the episodes are released through the Team DR studio onto their streaming site, which also contains the link to the RoboStream and RoboChat, which is the live feed from their proxy’s cameras and the survey chat. It is reasonably popular, but far from universal pop culture. The games are far more known than the reality show itself.

Applications

Applications can be found through the Team DR website, and mostly only people who know about the show apply to be on it. It is not common knowledge -- at least a third of the fans believe the show to be entirely faked, with the characters completely fictional -- but the rest do know and do apply.

The application process is simply a form and a video, and requires only that the applicant submit proof of their attendance at a high school and that they be ages 15 to 17. It does not require any sort of parental permission (something they are getting hit for in the lawsuit), and does not do background checks (which is how underage kids have gotten into the show), but it does require at least a dozen or more pages of NDAs.

Survivor Perk

The Survivor Perk concept was introduced after the Writer Swap as incentives. A particularly selfless or MVP player in the game would be targeted in the final trial to “sacrifice themselves in the name of hope” -- and then would be given the option to play again in the next season. It was not used in every season, but came up sporadically as a concept.

RoboStream / RoboChat

The RoboStream was another concept introduced around the time of the Writer Swap as a way to bring the viewer base closer to the game itself: a live first-person stream from the POV of one of the contestants themselves, so the viewers could feel part of it. This concept was introduced in season 38 as M1-R41, an Ultimate Robot character whose appearance was slightly based on Chiaki Nanami from SDR2. She was immediately a favorite, and the RoboStream -- in its own section on the website -- was loved by the fandom as well. She would appear in every season afterwards as a staple alongside the mastermind until season 52.

As her repeated use in the show went on, however, M1-R41 -- pronounced and romanized by fans as Mirai -- who was in reality an AI, became increasingly self-aware, retaining memories of past seasons and realized what was going on and her real purpose, keeping it within the show itself. This manifested in season 52, where she and one of the contestants turned on the show in chapter 5 and were killed by the Exisals (who were as of then unmanned). She was decommissioned after that, and a new AI/Robot, as well as the new audience survey RoboChat system was introduced for what would end up being his one and only season -- K1-B0.

[dr-imaginesandscenariosarchive]

Can you do the crush with depression one again for komaeda, koizumi, nanami, maizono, and souda?

Well I did the original request so why not? I hope I got everything right, as I know every case of depression isn’t the same. ^^; Also any request with Nagito I will most likely take c: Enjoy the angst/fluff!~

 Just accept that all my writings are going to be long because ideas, yo. Also I went back to my old format, so sorry mobile users. It just..looked too cluttered for me. 

Any questions of why I write the characters the way I do can be answered on my personal ^^; I may see these characters differently than others do. 

- Mod Lexie 

Chiaki Nanami: 

She noticed but it took her a bit to realize. Though from the way you were acting? She quickly figured something was wrong. 

She had suggested you play video games with her, figuring it’d get you back to your normal self. At first, it worked. You seemed happy, despite her beating you multiple times. It didn’t matter though, it was all for fun. Though she hoped you didn’t see the blush that crept upon her cheeks. Showing what her feelings were for you.

Sadly over time, things began to diminish. You smiled less and barely spoke. As if you didn’t have anything to say nor had the energy to. She asked if something was wrong but you brushed it away. Coming up with an excuse like always. They started out believable but there’s only so many times you can say ‘I have work to do’. 

That was when she noticed your eyes. The color had…almost drained from them. Like you didn’t see any worth in the world anymore or even in living. It…honestly broke her heart. To see the person she had fallen for in so much pain and she couldn’t do a thing about it. 

That was when she couldn’t take it anymore. “…What’s actually wrong?” The way she said it was like…she knew and she wasn’t accepting any excuses this time. She wanted to hear it straight from you.

 The words danced on your tongue but your mouth refused to move. Opening and closing only nothing but air to pass through. Despite how much you wanted to. Before you knew it, your vision began to blur. Tears welling up as you shut your eyes and looked away from her.  

…It was all she needed to see. The way you were acting and now this? ..It was obvious what this was now. She hesitates, letting the silence trickle in. What...was she going to say now? She...never had depression before. Time slowly passes before you feel her hand on your shoulder. Her voice ringing out as the silence began to break. 

“Hey…don’t give up okay?” 

You turn to look into her eyes. Seeing the pure care and concern for you. It’s..almost comforting and hard to look away from. Like a warm light that washed over you. “I…don’t exactly know what’s all going on. Though…I can tell you’re fighting something and from how you’ve been acting…it’s starting to win.” 

There’s a moment of silence before she speaks again. “However, you don’t have to fight alone. You have friends, family, even teachers that will come to your aid.” She hesitates for a moment. “Even me.” 

This makes you blink for a moment before a soft sleepy smile forms across her lips. “I mean it. If you ever need someone to talk to, don’t be afraid to talk to me. I know I won’t know everything but I promise I’m a good listener.” 

“That’s why…I don’t want to give up. You’re strong. I know you are and with everyone’s help…we can help you fight whatever it is. I know…we can do it. I believe in you.” 

You manage to smile a little as the tears slowly trail down your cheeks. Managing to breathe out a small thank you as she keeps her hand on your shoulder. Your mouth finally moving as you relay everything that you had been feeling. Every thought, every feeling. All out there...for her to listen to.

She simply sits there and lets you speak. It hurts her that you feel like this but she wants to help you. Letting out your feelings is a good first step. There’s tears of course but she doesn’t speak until you’re done. Taking in everything you’ve said. When it’s all done, she wraps her arms around you in a comforting hug before asking if you’d like to do anything. 

You slowly nod and mention video games to which she immediately pulls out two handhelds from her bag. Going back to what you two would normally do. She beats you like always but this time though, she notices that cheerful smile returning. Making her smile in return. There was the person she fell for. 

Kazuichi Soda: 

It actually took him quite awhile to even notice it. You weren’t even that good at hiding it, he…just was too focused in his own things when he hung out with you. Doing whatever you wanted and even suggesting some of the things he liked. 

The entire time you were smiling. That beautiful look in your eyes still there. As long as you had that, why should he worry? Despite the things he did that made it very obvious that he liked you. Which earned a few chuckles from you and a very red face from him along with his beanie pulled over his head. It was...kind of cute actually. 

However, once you stopped hanging out with him as often...his heart broke. He cursed. He yelled. He called himself everything negative under the sun. Feeling like if he hadn’t been so friggin obvious, this wouldn’t have happened. You would have fallen for him in return and you’d be happy together.

 However...no matter what he did, he realized it was up to you whether you wanted to continue. If you did, great. If not, he had to respect that. In the end, he didn’t blame you. He only blamed himself for his actions.  

After that, when the two of you ran into each other...he only smiled. He didn’t ask to hang out with you again, figuring it’d be the same answer. He’d wish you well while he went off to do his own things. It hurt him immensely but he’d get over it. That’s how the saying goes right? If you love something, you let it go. Least that’s what Sonia had told him.  

Though...he had started to notice some peculiar signs about you. Especially how you were around people. You were usually such the social butterfly. Now? You barely talked to anyone. He took a moment to study your face. Your movements were sluggish and there were bags around your eyes. Like you barely slept. It was like…nothing mattered in the world. 

That was when it hit him like a ton of bricks. Knowing exactly what it was. 

He immediately went to find you. Practically running before he found you outside, just…staring at the sky. As if you were trying to find some kind of worth in the world around you. Leaving him to stare for a moment, before walking over to sit next to you. 

The far off look in your eyes shows that you didn’t even notice him. Making him clear his throat so you do.You slowly move to look at him, both of you greeting each other like normal. A fake smile forming across your lips. 

This time he knows it’s fake and he feels like an idiot for not noticing sooner. The signs were right there after all, why did he wait till now? No, now was not the time. You were more important and he knew it.  A sigh escaped his lips as he began to speak.

“…I know what’s going on.” He scratches the back of his head.

Your smile slowly fades before you begin to ask what he meant. He immediately stops you, explaining what he had noticed. You slowly close your mouth and look down at your hands. Letting silence build between you two. It takes all of his effort to not hold your hand before he speaks again.

“…Listen, I…get a feeling what’s going on in your head. You have a voice there that’s telling you all these things. All these…negative and insulting things. You…eventually start to believe them and think…it’s just easier to give up right?” 

He stopped for a moment, waiting to see you respond before speaking once more. 

“Well I’m here to tell you that it’s not. You may think so, but that voice will just keep going. Till…there’s nothing left. That’s why, I want you to fight it. There is something to keep fighting for. Life, isn’t what it seems right now. Plus, you’re not alone. You have a lot of people that will help you. Friends. Family. Anyone that will listen to you.” 

A blush began to form across his cheeks as he hesitated. Stammering out the words. “…E-Even me.” 

You slowly turn to face him before he looks you in the eyes. His lips slowly forming into a comforting smile. “…Yeah, I said it. Even me. Sometimes I may not know exactly what to say, but I’ll be here to listen to you. …So please, don’t give up okay? I believe in you. I believe you can fight this.” 

You just stare at him for a moment. It’s…kind of surprising that someone so carefree as him could sound like this. It was like…he had been through it himself. Before you know it, the tears begin to form and you embrace him in a fit of emotion. It takes him a bit but eventually he has his arms around you. Letting you cry and let out any pain you’ve been feeling.  It takes all his strength not to cry with you. 

Once you’re done, he reaches into his pocket to pull out a tissue. Letting you clean yourself up, asking if you’re all right for now. He suggests that you two go somewhere to get your mind off things for awhile. Thinking that it might help distract your thoughts. You agree and decide to go with him. Thanking him for his help with a genuine smile followed by that beautiful look in your eyes. It’s enough to make his heart melt. In the end though, he’s just happy you’re okay. He knows it’ll be a tough battle but if you let him, he’ll be by your side as a friend or something more. Even though he tried...he couldn’t stop his feelings for you.

Nagito Komaeda: 

At first, he’d be surprised you’re even near him. You had such a bright hope-filled aura. Why would you hang out with trash like him? Yet, somehow you wanted to. Making him chalk it up to his luck as he went along with it. Spending time after time with you, mainly talking about books you both read.

Before he even realized it...his heart had started to fall for you. You were just...so wonderful that he wanted to be near you. Though with it, a storm of emotions followed. Anger. Sadness. Happiness. Fear. All of it together and yet none he could grasp. All he knew was…you brought a light into his world and the last thing he wanted was it to be snuffed out. 

He kept his feelings hidden behind the mask that was his carefree smile. Fearing he might scare you off if he confessed too early. He had thought of avoiding you but, that would cause more harm than good. The last thing he wanted was you to be sad. The two of you spent your time together, smiling without a care in the world. Some of your actions caused a blush to creep across his cheeks but luckily, you didn’t notice. 

 Though as the days slowly passed, something was changing for you. Something...dark building within your head. The signs were small at first. Tiny bags under your eyes. A halfhearted laugh. Things ordinary people wouldn’t think too much about. 

Too bad he was anything but ordinary. Thanks to that, he noticed them immediately. Prompting him to ask you if everything was okay. You said everything was but it didn’t convince him. He could see the hope within you slowly ebbing away. Maybe this was his bad luck catching up with him. You weren’t happy with him anymore. No. This was something else. He knew it too. 

He offered to do anything he could to make you happy. Made jokes, took you to places with your friends, all kinds of things that he knew would cheer you up. He practically doted upon you, which made his feeling pretty obvious but he didn’t care at the moment. All that mattered was your happiness. He wanted that light to return, for your sake. 

You managed to crack a smile a few times but eventually you barely made a reaction. That hope of yours getting dimmer by the day. The bags underneath your eyes were more noticeable while you were barely eating. That’s when he realized his observations from before were correct. As much as he hated to admit it.

With a sigh, he headed to find you as soon as he was free. Finding you at the park as you sat on the swings. You weren’t moving, you were just...staring. Staring out at the trees as if you were in a trance. Stuck within your own head. 

His voice cut through, snapping you out of it. You almost jump before noticing him. The two of you greeting each other like always before your voices slowly faded. There was no conversation as you found yourself looking at the ground. Silence slowly building between you before he opened his mouth to speak. 

“…Don’t give up.” 

You move to look at him, about to ask what he means before he puts his hand up. Cutting off anything you were going to say as he explained the signs you had been showing. You can feel the guilt wash over you, leaving you to look away. Not wanting anyone else to worry about you. Making him close his eyes for a moment before speaking again.

“…I know what you’re going through. There’s…something in your head right? It’s like a dark veil that wraps around you. Obstructing you from seeing any light within. You open your mouth but it only suffocates you, making it…beyond impossible to breathe. You eventually give up fighting and let it take you over. There’s no…getting rid of it right? So why not give up?”

There’s another round of silence, his statement cutting through the air. His words caught your attention, leaving you shocked from his statement. What...was this? He seemed so carefree, smiling and making jokes all the time. Sure some of the things he said were a little weird, but aren’t we all nowadays? Even so, how was he right on his description? Did he…have the same thing? So many questions fill your mind as you look over at him. Letting him speak again with his usual carefree smile. 

“…Because there’s a reason to fight against it.  There’s a world out there practically brimming with hope. You may not see it now but if you give up, you’ll never see it. Then, you’ll never see just...how wonderful this world really is.” He takes a moment to breathe, looking into your eyes. “You’re not alone. You...never were. You have family and friends. They’re…all here for you. All you have to do...is talk about it. I’m sure...they’ll listen to you.” 

You slowly speak up, asking if you could speak to him as well. This...caught him off guard. You actually wanted to talk to him about this? Despite how you hiding it? This time he was the one that was at a loss for words, a blush creeping across his cheeks. He took a deep breath before responding, trying to hide his expression. “Y-Yeah…e-even…me.”

With his reaction you can’t help but chuckle, making him chuckle in return. The mood brightening as he continues to look in your eyes. “So..please, don’t give up. I believe in you. Hope..will overcome the despair in your mind. I know it will.” 

With all of his words, you manage to smile as tears begin to well up in your eyes. In a moment, you feel his arm draped around your shoulder. Simply telling you to just speak your mind. You slowly nod and start to tell him everything. All the things you had been feeling and all the things you had hidden. He simply stays there, letting you say whatever you have to. If he feels you’re holding back, he tells you that it’s okay. Leaving you to continue until you’re done, your eyes stinging from how much you’ve been crying.

He slowly reaches up to wipe the tears from your face, letting the silence stay as you calm down. When you’re done, he takes his chance to say his piece. Nothing bad of course. Only that he understands how you’re feeling and some suggestions to help yourself.  You take note of them, saying you’d try them before the two of you slowly stand up. You give a small smile before thanking him for his help. He shakes his head and says it’s not a problem. That he’s here for you. 

You both decide to go spend some time with your mutual friends. He had suggested that it would be just you and them, but you insisted he come too. As you all hang out together, he finally notices that happiness across your face is back. Making him smile in return. Seeing that hope-filled aura that makes his heart skip a beat. He wouldn’t tell you his true feelings, but part of him hopes you’ll feel the same for him. Like all things, he’ll leave it up to his luck. 

Mahiru Koizumi: ( Apologies if this is ooc ) 

Whenever the two of you would hang out, she would insist on taking a picture. You were almost always the subject of them. That beautiful smile shining out among the rest. It was like it completed the picture. 

One time though, she had noticed something was wrong. You were smiling but, it was like it wasn’t there. Like it was a mask on your face. She immediately asked what was wrong, but you tried to lie. Saying everything was okay. 

She wasn’t convinced. Prompting her to press you over and over about it until the subject was finally dropped once you started to look annoyed. She was worried but she didn’t want to pry and worry about losing her friendship with you. 

…She just watched as you slowly changed. You started to barely smile. Your movements were sluggish. You barely ate and it looked like you were barely sleeping. 

She scolded you a bit about not sleeping and telling you that you needed to eat. Which left you to give a half-hearted smile as you listened to her. Still acting the way you were.   It was like you just…wandering around the world without any kind of care in the world. . …It was enough to break her heart. 

Eventually she couldn’t take it anymore and she decided to confront you. This time not backing down as she was genuinely worried. This time, you don’t fight. You’re just…silent, leaving her to talk before she eventually goes silent. Taking a chance to process what’s all going on and that’s when she realizes. 

She takes a moment to think. She usually knew what to say but with this? It…kind of left her speechless. After all, she didn’t know how this was. Sure she had issues herself but, they were things she got over. This...was different all together. Eventually, she turned to talk to you as she placed a kind hand on your shoulder. Leaving you to face her.

“…Hey, you’re..not alone you know that?”  She continues to look into your eyes. “There’s…people you can talk to about these feelings. Your friends, your family, even me. I…may not know exactly what’s going on but I can listen and try to understand.” 

“Just…don’t give up, all right? You can get through this…I know you can.” 

She continues to smile her usual smile, making you smile a little in return as you thank her. You start to talk about all the things you’ve been feeling. Every single thought that’s run through your head. 

She doesn’t scold you nor interject, she only listens. There’s a few tears in her eyes that someone like you could be feeling all this negativity but, she has a feeling it’s worse for you. As she can tell by the tears in your eyes. 

 She can’t help but wrap her arms around you in a supporting hug. Letting both of you cry before you break away. She takes out a tissue and dabs at her eyes before dabbing at yours. Taking care of you like always before she offers her own words. She does suggest possibly getting some help such as a doctor. Which you only nod and say you’ll try it. In the end, you two go to hang out to brighten up the mood. Herself taking a picture of you, her heart skipping a beat when she sees you smile that smile once more. 

Sayka Maizono: ( More apologies if this is ooc, Sayaka is hard to write )

Despite the massive swarm of reporters and fans, the two of you had been good friends. You hung out and enjoyed each other’s company. You were kind, sweet, funny and just an overall wonderful person that she enjoyed her time with.  It didn’t take long for her to fall for you. 

One time though, while you got time to hang out with each other...you weren’t as happy as you had been. That look in your eyes not as bright as before. Due to her intuition, she picked up on it immediately. You tried to hide it with your smile but it was futile. She knew and she knew right then. 

She asked you what was wrong. You said everything was fine but she could tell it was a lie. “...Why are you lying to me? Do you not trust me?” This caught you off guard, asking how she knew to which she replied that she was psychic. Saying right after that she was kidding, she could tell it in your eyes. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you told her you did trust her, you just didn’t want to worry her. She looked confused for a second before, she realized what it was. Leaving her to look down as this time you were confused. “...You have depression?” 

Her words cut through the air like a knife. Leaving you...speechless. How did she..? Was she sure she wasn’t really psychic? It takes all your effort just to look away from her, wondering what else she might know if you continue to look at her. 

You hear her sigh and the two of you are left in silence. She knows what it is now but...what was she supposed to say? It wasn’t like she had it too. There was the occasional negativity but, nothing like...this. Eventually, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“...I believe in you.” 

You turn to face her. A gentle smile across her features. “I’m sorry...I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling but...I want to tell you that I believe you can get past it. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I..may not know what to say but I can listen. I’ll do...whatever I can to make you smile again.” 

Her words are simple yet, you can tell the passion behind them. It’s enough to make you crack a smile, thanking her. Leaving her to nod while she asks the question again, ‘What’s wrong?’. This time you tell her the truth. Everything you had been feeling, everything you had been thinking. All of it just...out on the table. There are tears in both of your eyes but she doesn’t leave. She stays near you as you relay everything. 

When it’s all over, she grabs your hand and takes you someplace you can go. Sort of like a date but more something to get your mind off it. Thinking that it would help. You have no choice but to follow, though you start to smile again while you spend the day with her. Herself dragging you around multiple places, anything to get you smiling again. When she looks at you, she can see that smile across your face as her heart flutters. She may have her career to think about right now, but she’ll always love seeing that wonderful smile. 

[dangkinronpa]

headcanons for hinata who was in love with autistic nanami

heres ur headcanons hinata! i hope u like them, and if u want me to make any changes just remember to let me know! - mod kiibo - hinata always cared about the people around him, and if he noticed that anyone ever seemed to be lonely he would make sure that he stopped and talked to them, at least for a little while. despite the fact that he always gave lonely people a chance, he never expected to fall for someone just because he wanted to be kind towards them - when hinata first decided that he wanted to talk to nanami for a little while, he wasnt sure if the two of them would ever end up becoming friends. she seemed really nice, though, and the two of them had a fairly decent first conversation (despite the fact that nanami was a little bit awkward). all in all, hinata found that he would have loved to befriend nanami - the two of them eventually became friends, and although nanami liked talking to hinata about things, she especially seemed to love telling him about video game series that she had fallen in love with. he eventually asked her why she was so interested in video games and nanami told him that they were her special interest in a calm voice - learning that nanami was autistic didnt change anything for hinata, and he still enjoyed spending time with her. after all, it wasnt like nanami had changed or started acting differently. the two of them were still friends, and hinata was sure that nothing would ever change that for him. he really did care about nanamis wellbeing and companionship - as much as hinata was fairly sure that nothing would ever make him want to stop being friends with nanami, he found himself falling in love with her and wanting to enter a romantic relationship. he wasnt sure what to do about the way he felt, but he couldnt deny that he would love to have been in a relationship with her at some point - there were plenty of times where hinata would just let nanami infodump about games that she found and had started playing, and hinata would always do his best to stay engaged in the conversation and remember anything that nanami had told him. if she ever apologized for talking about anything too much, he would always let her know that it was alright - not only did hinata do his best to always be available for nanami to talk about her special interests, but he tried to make sure that nanami felt comfortable doing things such as stimming whenever he was around. he wanted her to be comfortable around him, so he always made sure to treat any stimming that nanami did in a respectable manner - in fact, there were plenty of times where hinata would get nanami stim toys that she could play with, and he would always go and make sure that they had a video game motif to them. every time he gave them to nanami she would end up almost in tears and thanking him, and he would just casually say that he happened to see them around - if hinata was ever worried that something might be overstimulating nanami, he would do what he could to get her out of that situation and take her somewhere where she could manage to calm down a little bit. still, he wouldnt try to mention those moments; he just wanted to be kind to nanami, not get complimented for doing something to help her out - even though nanami wasnt always the best at conversations, hinata really enjoyed being able to talk to her and have her around every day. she was just really great in his opinion, and any time that he thought about her he would always think about how much he wanted to be with her. he had a lot of feelings when it came to nanami