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pearl-blue-musings · 3 months

Note

I left ya a tip on kofi for your kindness <3

Since i already read something you wrote about Mondo (and fell in love with it) i wanted to request a smut oneshot with a fem!reader (possibly her being a bit chubby, shy and short 👉👈) where she asked him to Take her around, since he haves a motorbike, to do some shopping!

He doesn't really like going around shopping and stuff (boring asf), but his Girlfriend being a tease not even realizing it (wearing jeans, trying clothes and other stuff) turns him on <33

He haves to wait till they go home to Finally take whats his <33

I'm so sorry i've been so specific 😭😭😭

Have a nice day!

Hi sweetie!! You are just the absolute sweetest 🥹 oh I’ve absolutely got you!!! Mondo is just the sweetest mkay and I’m here to share the good word

Mondo Oowada x fem!reader

You tried to keep your cute giggle to yourself when your boyfriend Mondo picked you up, his ears tinted red from your outfit

He throws you a helmet, muttering under his breath how too damn cute you look and blushes harder when your arms wrap around his waist snuggly

The ride to the mall was uneventful yet fun, anytime the two of you stopped at a red light on his bike his fingers would tickle your ankles

Your laugh would always send the butterflies in his stomach soaring; who knew he’d be so lucky after dealing with all the despair to find you?

Once he’s parked the bike at the mall, your shopping trip began

He takes your hand in his and proudly walks you through the mall. His thumb rubs over your palm before kissing it softly. Today is your day and he’s gonna spoil you rotten, even though he’d rather be anywhere than a mall

But you love shopping so who is he to say no?

The first store you stop at is a boutique for mid and plus size women. Mondo had done his research about stores you’ve mentioned in passing and was happy the mall had one of these stores. Upon entering, you’re excited and elated to see clothes that are made just for you and in styles that accommodate everyone. Your eyes light up as they scan the store, lingering for longer on a few items. Mondo noticed where your eyes landed and walked to the employee and asked for the exact things you wanted.

You smile widely at him and the worker leads you to the back. You push back the curtain of the dressing room, marveling at the size. You turn around cutely toward your boyfriend and wave him over to you. “Ya want me to…come in?” You nod and he looks around nervously. Mondo may look menacing, but if there’s anything his brother and his gang taught him is to respect women. He blushes lightly and scratches at his neck before following you into the dressing room, clothes set up already.

Mondo always made you feel safe in your skin. He loves every part of you, holding you close and grabbing onto every ounce of skin he can. On days you’ve felt badly about your size, he kisses your face all over and tells you “there’s more of ya to love. And I’ll never get tired of it.” As you’re remembering his words, you’re squeezing into a pair of jeans. You wriggle your hips as the right yet stretchy material shapes your curves nicely. You latch the button of the jeans and then reach over to try on the corset they picked out, the sweet pink and red forming a heart shape around your breasts, perking them up. You smile widely and giggle giddily at how you look. “Babe! What do you think?”

The man is too stunned to speak.

His cheeks are all shades of red as he turns his head away as much as his pompadour allows him. He taps his heel rapidly and you finally know why. In between his lap is a growing bulge. Oh? Oohhh. Your jaw drops at the sight and now it dawns on you. You just gave your boyfriend a little striptease in the dressing room. You smirk and bite your lip, slowly walking toward him with a sway in your hips. Mondo inhales sharply and sneaks a glance at you. God the way that corset frames you makes him want to buy you a whole set of them. And the jeans? Jesus he’ll do anything, build up a whole new Hopes Peak if he has to to get all of your clothes like that.

You lean over slightly and press your hands on his knees for stability. His breath quickens as you press your hands further up his thighs. Even through his pants you can see his cock twitch. And Mondo is doing everything in his power to keep his hips in control. You puff out some air over his lips, pressing your breasts together up in his face. “Excuse me ma’am? Am I allowed to wear the outfit out the store?”

“Of course ma’am! I’m so glad you love our products! I’ll ring them up now.”

You turn to face Mondo and his entire face is covered. You press up off of him and and put your shoes back on. The both of you are secretly happy he’s wearing his baggier pants today otherwise you would most likely be banned from your now favorite store! Mondo holds your other clothes and the two of you leave the dressing room. Your boyfriend quickly pays and practically drags you out the door.

You can’t help the silly and goofy smile on your face as you two speed walk back to his bike. In record time you make it to his place. Mondo haphazardly parks his bike and doesn’t even take off your helmets until you’re in his place. He throws off his and you calmly take off yours with a yelp. His hands grab at your ass and press you against the closed door, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“That outfit,” he breathes against your ear, “is too damn sexy. And I can’t wait ta see it on the floor.” His voice rumbles in your ear and goes straight to your core. He kisses you possessively as he walks you toward his bedroom, where he can let his cock free until he decides to plunge it inside you where it belongs.

#merrykitten #i hope you like it #mondo owada #mondo x reader #mondo x fem!reader #mondo oowada #mondo owada x reader #mondo owada x fem!reader #danganronpa #danganronpa mondo #my writing #i did the thing

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morangoowada · 4 months

Text

DND AU INFO POST

Intro:

This AU features Kiyotaka, Mondo, Leon, Chihiro and Yasuhiro, the main party on an adventure together as a group. They are investigating a certain mistery revolving around their land, where multiple people are disappearing without a single trace. During their investigation they encounter a lot of different individuals and obstacles.

(And as the title of the au says, it has a Dungeons and Dragons setting.)

Character sheets:

Some boundaries and disclaimers:

Fanarts are completely okay, I would love seeing all your takes on the designs, if you ever make any please tag me.

I know people have different takes on different characters, but if you're gonna draw any of my designs, PLEASE don't whitewash the characters. Taking my designs and just whitewashing them is completely unacceptable. (This applies to any AU I ever make, please be decent)

I have no issue with people making ship content of the characters, just be careful because there are some canon relationships in there.

Asks about my Au are completely fine, so if you ever have any questions or just wanna say something about it, please send them to me

Now... Here is the fanfic. Please be patient with me this is like my first fic ever..

@dnd-au-archives The archive blog!!

(This post will probably be updated in the future)

#dnd au #kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo owada #chihiro fujisaki #leon kuwata #yasuhiro hagakure #help I finally finished all those sheets... they were on my basement for more than months #i am quite nervous about this oejdowjpdjd help #if y'all noticed that it's been a while since I last posted a chapter... I'm having some trouble with writing it sorry #anyway thank you everyone who said they wanted to see this... I almost gave up halfway through it #morangoowada art

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mondothebombo · 7 months

Note

🌹🌹🌹🌹

han!! you also get a wytyaa chapter 8 snippet, here’s a jay and lloyd bonding moment!!!

“Let’s just say I understand the touch thing. You can probably connect the dots.”

Lloyd’s face falls and he immediately hugs Jay tightly. The blue ninja hugs him back just as tight, although mindful of the younger’s injuries.

“Oh, Jay,” Lloyd finally says, releasing his brother. “I’m so sor—“

“No, stop,” Jay interrupts and he turns to face Lloyd. “That’s not why I told you. I told you so you’d understand that it’s not your fault, what Harumi did to you.”

Lloyd’s stomach twists and he looks away. “B-But I was the one who—“

“Lloyd,” Jay says sternly. “I’m only gonna say this once, so you better listen. It is no one’s fault but the person who hurt you.” Jay squeezes his eyes shut, before fixing Lloyd with a look, and Lloyd doesn’t think he’s ever seen the master of lightning so serious before. “They made their choices to do what they did. It wasn’t my fault then, and it’s not yours now. Okay? It took me awhile to believe it, but it’s true. If you never listen to another word I say ever again, please at least know that.”

Lloyd’s eyes well up with tears, but he doesn’t want to cry.

“It wasn’t your fault, Lloyd.”

#ninjago #wytyaa #when you think you're all alone #mondo’s fic #mondo’s writing #my fic #ninjago fanfiction

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 2 months

Text

Chapter 23

ohhh baby we back in it now

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

byakuya pov finally

bonus headcanon coming into play here: byakuya being Wasian

shoutout @digitaldollsworld for helping me conceptualize byakuya's mom! both of us are Sick about her

Content warning tags: wall-punching, grieving/mourning, unreality (dreaming)

< previous - from start - next >

There’s a woman standing in his office.

Byakuya stands behind the cracked-open doorway, peeking through - though, part of him does rile up with the indignity of having to spy into his own office - at the intruder, standing in front of his desk, back facing the door.

He can’t see her face. But he can see her flax-yellow hair, tied back with a wrinkled, silken scarf that’s probably the most expensive thing she’s wearing. Her cotton jumpsuit is so stained and faded that hardly any of the original blue is still there. Her canvas shoes are discolored with mud.

She would look more out of place, if the shabbiness of her hadn’t seeped into her surroundings. The carpet is splattered with crusted clay, and shards of stone stick out of the plush threads like thorns. The mahogany surface of his desk is creaking and bent under the weight of a large cube of fleshy, white marble, splintering under the lacquer.

As he watches, she lifts her bare hands - ugly, roughened, thickly muscled fingers, nails cracked and filthy - like a conductor before an orchestra. She pauses, head tilted like a bird, thinking, and Byakuya inexplicably finds himself holding his breath; and then, she places her palms against the stone.

The surface of it warps and distends beneath her touch, first like a swollen balloon, and then like clay, twisting and following her hands like a swimming fish. And he watches, fascinated despite himself, as she bends and shapes it, twisting pieces off, smoothing edges down. She pinches out a piece in the middle for a nose, smoothes down a sharp edge for a sloping curve of a cheek, flicks her nail sharply beneath the brow to pull out a crease for an eyelid.

It’s magic. In seemingly no time at all, there on his desk is a bust; the head of a man brought to life, caught in a soft, gentle expression. The sculptor pauses, and steps backwards to take in her work.

There’s something reverent about it, and Byakuya suddenly has the feeling that he’s witnessing something not meant for him to see.

But he creaks the door open slightly more to get a better look, finding it strange how he was more curious than angry, even despite the intrusion. As he approaches, the bust’s eyes suddenly flick towards him, and immediately the serenity is replaced by a solemn, pinched brow, the smile replaced by a severe slash of a frown. And Byaukuya realizes he recognizes this face.

The marble-wrought head of Kijo Togami is sitting on his desk, scowling at him.

“Byakuya?”

He turns to the woman. She’s facing him now, though she has no face to speak of - it is blurred and unfocused, like a distant background character of an impressionist oil painting, the features mere shifting smears against a flat plane - but he knows her. He knows her.

“Byakuya,” She repeats, the syllables awkward on her tongue. She’s speaking French, and she sounds distant. Muted, underwater. But her voice still has the same, oddly musical quality to it that he remembers, making everything she said sound like a lullaby. “Bijou. Did I not tell you to stay out of my studio?”

Her studio?

“This is my office.” He protests back. He can’t tell if he’s speaking Japanese or not; every word feels clumsy and foreign, like he’s just learned how to talk. “What are you doing here, Mother?”

She just sighs. Shakes her head, her featureless face. There’s no anger in it, no loving exasperation either; just a neutral disapproval of his presence. His unwanted existence in her space. “Bijou,” She says again, and the nickname irritates him. A sweet-sounding endearment that was ultimately empty, a placeholder for her to refer to him by, because his own name was too clumsy to speak with her accent. “When did you become so grown? When will you stop being so cold?”

The stone Kijo Togami is still frowning at him. In this instant, both the man he calls ‘Father’ and the woman who had birthed him - one painfully-detailed stone, the other indistinct flesh - stand before him. One silent and forever displeased, the other sweet but hollow-sounding and entirely uncaring that they shared any blood at all.

“How strange it is, that you look so much like me,” She sighs, raising a hand to his face. He flinches away from it, the sandpaper sharpness of her palms, the filth that stains the creases of her skin, the heat that comes off of it like a kiln. “And yet, you are so much like him.”

—

He wakes up with a gasp, eyes snapping open.

He’s greeted with the pitch darkness of his ceiling, cut through with a thin slash of white from his bathroom light, streaming through the cracked-open door. A reminder he had taken to preparing for himself before he went to bed, that his eyes were still there, and he sighs and presses a palm to his chest as he stares up at it. Feeling his heart pounding beneath his fingertips, then slowing, in time with his breaths.

A dream. He can’t remember the last time he dreamed so vividly, but he had been subjected to some unpleasantly…shocking events the last few days (he won’t call them traumatic, he’s witnessed far worse in his life). The details of the dream are already slipping away as he tries to recall it, like sand between his fingers. It’s hardly important.

He lies in bed a moment longer, trying to see if sleep will come, but even with the adrenaline fading he’s wide-awake. Annoying, but not surprising, considering how he had spent much of the day before napping in short, fitful bursts. He pushes himself upright, reaching under his pillow for his handbook; may as well make use of the time.

The clock on his handbook reads: three AM. His neglected stomach gurgles as he squints at the dim glow of the screen, and he sighs. He hasn’t eaten since Celeste’s little tea party the day before, and he might as well go to the kitchen now. There likely wouldn’t be anyone wandering around to disturb him. And with Ishimaru gone, there was no one left to seriously uphold the nightly curfew; he drags himself out of bed with a grunt, grabbing his bathrobe off the end of his bedpost as he goes.

He’s not expecting the trap that he finds when he opens the door, however. The first step he takes past the threshold is accompanied by a loud, startling crunch, and he jumps backwards, just barely stifling a shriek. He throws his hand against the light switch, digging it into his palm as he flicks in on, and at once the yellow glow streaming from his room illuminates the something round, brown, and somewhat deflated sitting in the hallway.

For a moment, he thinks it's some kind of rodent, dead and trodden under his foot. But closer inspection reveals it to be packaged bread, only slightly crushed in its plastic wrapper. There’s no note, but he can guess who the offering is from.

He sighs, picks it up by the corner, and tosses it behind him towards his trash can as he leaves.

The hallways are dim, and almost silent if not for the dull hum of the school’s inner machinery. The whoosh of air conditioning, the muffled clang of pipes. None of the construction that Hagakure had reported days ago, not even when he strains his ears.

But he does catch the quiet murmur of conversation as he passes the bathhouse, and he pauses, staring at the light that streams from behind the curtain, the quick-flicker of shadows moving from inside.

“It wasn’t your fault!”

He freezes, standing just outside. That was Chihiro’s - no, Alter Ego’s - voice.

“I know Master wouldn’t resent you.” It continues, earnest and bright. “And based on my data…I don’t think Kiyotaka would blame you either!”

“But it was my fault,” Mondo’s voice is strained and hollow, grieving still. “If I hadn’t left them alone - if I’d tried to just talk to him -”

Byakuya shifts slightly. He doesn’t want to be here, to have to witness Mondo’s continued breakdown. He still hasn’t forgiven the other boy, but having to see him stuck in the depths of misery was…unpleasant. And he’s not so petty to want retribution while the target of his ire was in such a state.

He tiptoes past, giving the bathhouse entrance a wide berth. From inside, he hears more indistinct voices, one low and gravelly from crying, the other electronic and gentle. And then-

“Brother, what are you looking so down for?” This one was new, but chillingly familiar. Loud and overeager and belonging to someone who was supposed to be dead. “You-”

Crash.

The sound of crunching metal. In the quiet of the hallway, it’s as loud as an explosion, and it makes Byakuya jump. Before he can reconsider, he’s sprinting into the bathhouse, throwing aside the curtain.

It takes him a moment to process what he’s seeing. Owada is standing, partly-hunched, one hand punching against the wall of lockers hard enough to warp the thin metal door. Someone is standing beneath him hands raised in self-defense - it takes Byakuya a moment to recognize that it’s Makoto, dressed in the white and dark blue of his pajamas, lacking the signature green of his jacket - and from somewhere behind Makoto, there’s a dim, neon-green glow, and a confused, worried voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-!”

“Don’t do that,” Owada snarls, drowning out Alter Ego’s stuttered apology. The locker door rattles where his fist is pressed into it. “Don’t just- wear his face, don’t you dare-”

“M-Mondo, it didn’t mean to! It was just trying-” Makoto breaks off, apparently noticing Byakuya. “B-Byakuya-?!”

Byakuya was immediately beginning to regret his decision to involve himself in the first place. “What is going on here?” He demands, crossing his arms and glaring imperiously.

Instead of replying, Owada pulls away, withdrawing his hand and retreating to slump over on the bench, despondent and unresponsive once more. Makoto twitches, turning between Owada, then Alter Ego, and back to Byakuya. “Um…”

“It’s not their fault!” Alter Ego pipes up hurriedly, its voice echoing tinnily from inside its locker, and Byakuya could feel a corresponding vibration from the handbook tucked in his shirt pocket. “It seems Mondo wanted to ask me a question, and Makoto was just helping to convey that-”

“I don’t care.” He snaps, and Alter Ego falls silent. “Neither of them are supposed to be here in the first place, and especially not after hours. Are the two of you trying to draw Monokuma’s suspicion? Endanger Alter Ego?” Makoto flinches a bit at that. Owada doesn’t even move. “Don’t you care about getting out of here at all?”

He’s not really expecting a reply, so he’s surprised when Owada speaks up. “ ‘Course not.” He rasps, so low and hollow that it was like he was speaking from the depths of a pit. Or maybe he was the pit, swelling with black-matter misery. “I…don’t care about anything anymore.”

Well. That’s to be expected. But even despite that, he finds himself a bit rattled. He’s been at the receiving end of anger, venom, screaming anguish and even vehement hate at this point. But this emptiness Owada is exhibiting was new; It seems like this school is insistent on teaching me new things, he thinks, and feels his lip curling up with the bitter irony.

“So you’re content to waste away? Throw away that anger that you were so proud of?” He raises a scathing eyebrow. “Go ahead and do that, then. I won’t stop you. But at the very least, spare the rest of us the dramatics of your little episode.”

“Byakuya!”

He twitches a bit, irritated. Makoto’s voice is shrill despite being hushed, and laced with anger; he’s standing stiffly next to Alter Ego’s open locker, hands trembling at his sides.

“What, Makoto.” He snaps, and only belatedly realizes that this was the first time he’s actually spoken to the other boy since the trial; in his irritation, he went and broke his own self-imposed vow of silence against him.

He doesn’t respond immediately, but doesn’t immediately shrink away either at the acidity of Byakuya’s tone. If anything he stands up a little straighter. “It’s only been a day since…you know.” He says, and his words are slow and careful, meticulously chosen. Like he’s in a trial again, trying to soothe skittish tempers - though Byakuya feels the exact opposite of ‘soothed’ by it - “Mondo asked to talk to Alter Ego. I went with him. It got a little heated-”

“A little? Is that what you call this?” He points at the locker next to his head; the one that Mondo had punched, the dent a clear, dark blotch of shadow in the middle of the flat green surface.

“That -” Makoto winces slightly. “We weren’t really expecting-”

“No, clearly not. And not thinking either, I imagine.”

“I-”

“I suppose safety and logic took second priority over trying to be helpful, hm? Since that’s all that’s important to you?” He’s not sure where these words are coming from, filled with acid. But it feels good to talk, to spit out every miserable thing that he’s feeling, that he’s felt because of Makoto. “You were so very kind to help me during that trial, after all.”

“Okay, that’s not-”

“That must be why you’re here now, I imagine. Sneaking out at this late hour past Kyoko, just so you could babysit this useless mess.” He sneers. “Did you decide to make Mondo your next pet project, trying to be his little assistant like you were mine?”

“Oh, for-” Makoto takes a deep breath, presses his hands to his eyes. “Can you shut the fuck up?! For one second?”

Whatever else Byakuya was about to say, dissipates like smoke out of his slack-jawed mouth. Even Owada seems to twitch up at this, the only sign of surprise he could give, compared to Byakuya’s shock.

Makoto is quiet for a few seconds, and the only sound is the quiet hum of pipes, and the sound of his breathing, shaky but slow. He pulls his hands away from his face after one more shuddering breath. “Okay. I’m okay now.” He says this part quietly, as if it were more for himself than anyone else. Then:

“It’s not fair,” He addresses Byakuya, and his voice is almost steady. “I’m trying my best, I’m trying to keep us all alive.”

“Yes, and you’re doing-”

“No! Shut up! Just listen!” He snaps, and Byakuya’s teeth click as he shuts his mouth, effectively cutting off the rest of his sarcastic remark. “Right now, the best thing we can do is to survive together. We’re just going to play into the mastermind’s hands if we can’t trust each other. Why doesn’t anyone get that?!”

His voice actually cracks on the last syllable, and he sounds close to hysterics. Byakuya simply stares, dumbfounded for a moment, before:

“...You’re going to say that? After what just happened?” It’s so ridiculous he could almost laugh. Trust? In this school, in this game? After everything that’s happened? “We all trusted Ishimaru. Where did that get us? Where did that get Chihiro?”

No sooner has that name left his mouth, does he try to bite it back. Feeling all at once mortified that he would stoop so low, that he would let himself be pushed to such a level. But it’s too late to take it back - at the sound of those names, Owada jerks again, and Makoto actually takes a step backwards, as if struck - so Byakuya keeps going. “This isn’t some-some fairy tale where everyone can learn to get along by talking about our feelings. None of us have any unity left - if even Ishimaru can snap, then there’s no telling who might strike next.”

“Stop,” Makoto grits out. “Taka - it was an accident. Just a stupid accident.” And that was the worst part, wasn’t it? That none of this was supposed to happen at all; if the coincidences hadn’t lined up terribly, horribly perfectly. “He didn’t mean for Chihiro to die!”

And Chihiro didn’t mean to get killed either. But he manages to swallow that thought, bitter and heavy in his throat. “His intentions didn’t change the outcome.” He says instead, cold and flat and utterly, completely empty.

Silence falls on the room. The lights buzz, the pipes hiss; the old, outdated screen of Alter Ego’s computer hums softly, contemplatively. There’s the muted, metallic thump of the water heater, somewhere inside the wall.

And then Owada speaks up.

“What should I do?” He asks hollowly. He’s looking up now, directly at him. His hair is limp, pompadour undone and falling over his face, obscuring it in streaks of dirty yellow. “I…they’re dead. I couldn’t-” He takes a slow, shuddering breath. “It was my fault. But I don’t know what to do.”

His words are pleading and genuine, as if Byakuya could give a proper answer; he hesitates, still uncertain of what to do with this…empty shell of a punk.

He glances towards Makoto, and then the dim green glow still emanating from the open locker. “Do you care what you do with your life at this point?”

“Byakuya…” Makoto starts warningly, but Owada interrupts him.

“No.”

“Then use it to protect Alter Ego.” If Owada has any sort of misgivings or protest about this, Byakuya ignores them. “That’s Chihiro’s last work, after all. It’s the least you can do to guard it.”

“Is…” Owada’s head turns towards the locker, then back. “Is that…okay?”

His hesitation is understandable. Even if Alter Ego was nothing more than a clever program, it did still wear the face of the boy who Owada’s friend inadvertently killed, and whose corpse Owada had tried to conceal. And that wasn’t even considering if Alter Ego would be cooperative in being protected by him, though there wasn’t much it could do about it.

But Alter Ego is the one who speaks up. “I hope we get along well, Mondo!” It chirps, a smile clear on its voice. And Mondo simply stares for a moment, before burying his face in his palms, and begins to cry.

“Are you going back to your room?”

He stops, and turns. They’ve left the bathhouse, Mondo departing first after sobbing his eyes out, and Makoto insisting he go rest in his room - though he probably would’ve ended up staying in the bathhouse all night if he could’ve gotten away with it - and Byakuya, having ended up spending an hour more than he wanted to dealing with it all, is tired once more..

“Where else would I be going?” He scoffs. Makoto is standing just in front of the bahthouse curtains, his face entirely concealed by shadow.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “I noticed you didn’t really…eat a proper meal yesterday. I could go make you something?”

It’s tempting, for a moment. Byakuya clenches a hand in his robe, pressed against his stomach to stifle any unwarranted growls. “No.” He says firmly. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Oh…are you sure? Because-”

“Makoto.” He falls silent. “I told you that there’s no need for us to uphold the deal we made. Your assistance is no longer needed.”

“...But, this isn’t because of the deal, I just-”

“I’m not so low that I’d need charity from you.”

He goes quiet again. Quiet and still, and there’s something off-putting about how he looks. Outlined by the yellow lights of the bathhouse but otherwise completely in darkness, his silhouette sharpened without his jacket. “...Is it really that hard, trusting someone?”

For as angry as he’d been in the bathhouse, now he’s more like his usual self. Quieter, and unsure. The one person out of place in this school, designated unremarkable and then made remarkable because of that.

An unremarkable life. No wonder he couldn’t understand.

“You’ve never had to worry about it before,” He says. “I imagine your life is like a sheep’s. Completely oblivious to the danger around you, as long as you stay inside the fence.

“But the world isn’t as kind as you think it is. And people can always be swayed, no matter how much you trust them, or how much you think they trust you.” He’s seen it happen. He’s exploited it himself, even. “At this point, it would be safest to stop associating with anyone. If you had any brains at all, you would do the same.”

Makoto lets out a sigh that’s almost a laugh, though it’s bitter and mirthless. “Kyoko said the same thing,” He mutters, half to himself. “So you won’t feel safe unless you’re alone? Even though there’s only ten of us left?” He shakes his head, and the motion is a little dizzying, the messy shape of his hair blurring into a dark mass. “How many more people need to die for you to feel safe?”

He sounds angry again, but it’s a colder kind of anger. Resentful and resigned. When did you become so cold?

“...I won’t be safe until I’m out of here.” Byakuya replies steadily, though the hand clenched in his robe tightens slightly. “Even if I could keep everyone in my sight, it’s not like it’d be easy to tell if they were holding a weapon.”

Silently, he adds: And thanks to you, they know that as well.

Makoto doesn’t say anything in reply, so Byakuya leaves. Quickly, in case his stomach threatens to grumble again; his hand doesn’t leave his robe until he’s safely inside his room, door locked behind him.

He almost treads on the bread again, stepping on a corner of the packaging and jumping at the sharp, crinkling sound. It takes a little bit of fumbling in the dark until he finds it, squeezing it through the plastic.

He’s tempted, for a moment, his fingers already searching for the serrated edge to tear it open. But the image of Makoto standing at the bathhouse entrance jumps to his mind; still and shrouded in darkness. A strange, statuesque parody of his usual self.

He throws the bread across the room and climbs back into bed.

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#thpff #thpff chapters #another ten page chapter LET'S GOOOO #hope ppl enjoy mommagami she really is so much fun to write. even as a dream specter #wondering how i should post the mommagami side special bc it really is a lot of text for just a tumblr post...#i dont think mondo would get torn up to the same degree as taka over his friend's death. hence the diff reaction to alter ego's method acti #byakuya u say you dont want to get involved but you ended up sticking around to help with mondo's breakdown so what's the truth #poor makoto really out here suffering. hey man do you think maybe you could take a break #congrats to him for sticking up for himself though. the 'shut the fuck up' he threw in there was kinda hard to write around #but it was too good to get rid of #also. gonna be posting later in the day (et for me) on sundays now #danganronpa fanfiction

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nite-puff · 10 months

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more young mondo n michi because them being childhood friends is so important to me.

bonus little ref thingy:

#can’t two weird kids grow to lean on each other in this cruel world??#want to write a little thing about how they meet and become friends. just give me the time #should I specify that this is not shipping??? they’re very much friends turned brothers to me.#danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #mondo owada #takemichi yukimaru #danganronpa fan art #doodlepuff

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stars-and-cows · 8 months

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*takes a deep breath*

AU WHERE KIYOTAKA APPEARS TO BE THE MODEL STUDENT BUT IS ACTUALLY A GANG LEADER AND MONDO IS A STRAIGHT A STUDENT THAT EVERYONE THINKS IS VERY SCARY

Uff-

Okay so it's kind of like an au where they appear to be the same as canon but are actually swapped.

Kiyotaka believes that rules are here to be broken but he isn't dumb enough to just put himself on a spot and to attract unnecessary issues. He's kind of an evil genius. From the shadows, nobody knows how he really looks. He doesn't mean anything bad, he just wants to have some fun, but for him fun means destroying some road signs. He believes the police are inherently corrupt and must be taken down. He knew it exactly because of his grandfather and because of all the stories his dad used to tell him. He maintains his good persona because "nobody suspects the teacher's pet"

Mondo grew up with his brother, looking up to him, wanting to be just like him. But his brother died because of a bike race and he never recovered. He understood that gangs are nothing good. They are too unregulated to make any real change and attract the worst people. And that bringing everyone into the issue, even innocent families, is sick. Though he never could let go of his gangsta persona. He lives in poorer areas and if he started looking like a nerd they would probably mug him or worse. So he acts like he's all gangsta when he's really just a hardworking teen

Their paths collide and they are almost exposed for their fake identities. So they tell a lie and switch places in the eyes of everyone. And they need to start taking on the fake roles.

So Taka teaches Mondo about leadership and how the system is going to fuck them both over so why care. And that you don't need to be good all the time to everyone and you can snap and be angry at things. You can say loudly that something sucks and want it to change even if you don't have a coherent plan yet.

And Mondo teaches Taka that as an individual you shouldn't throw your life away and while wanting change, still can pursue academic success and financial stability. That being broke and a hand leader might not get you far, but being a respected politician just might.

#Guess who's writing fic about it #*points at myself*#This cow #(FYI it's probably not going to be finished for a very long time)#ishimondo #kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo owada

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painedpen · 3 months

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Hiiii <33 how's your day going?? I hope good :)

I saw that you wanted People to request, so here's my idea:

A fluff Mondo Owada x fem!Reader (If possible her Appearance being shy, short and a bit chubby) where he wants to approach her more but she instead distances herself from him NOT because she doesn't like him back but because she also finds him intimidating :,)

He would be desperated to ask for advices to his brother or close classmates(??)

Write what you think would be cute ^^

Just in time for his birthday!! Thanks so much for the request, anon!

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Request: Mondo Owada x Shy!Chubby!Reader

Warnings: Discussions of weight/insecurity about weight. Mentions of teasing/bullying.

Genre: Fluff!

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The first time he looked at you, Mondo thought you were adorable.

It took him forever to even approach you, cause he’s pretty shy himself.

When he finally did, he messed up pretty much immediately.

The poor man can’t control his volume when he’s nervous, so he ended shouting his confession at you.

You jumped, and made a frightened, squeaking noise that just broke Mondo’s heart.

He all but ran away once he realized he’s scared you.

He immediately ran to Daiya and Takemichi for advice. Their advice was quite simple: “Don’t yell at her, you fucking disaster of a human.”

So he approached you again a few days later, this time focused on his volume.

He ended up over correcting, as his words came out as incoherent mumbles that you couldn’t understand.

You picked up a few words, such as “sorry… yellin’… didn’ mean ta… like…”, so you were able to get the gist of what he was saying.

You told him— in a very quiet, shaking voice— that it was okay, and that you forgave him.

Then it was your turn to run away.

This dance went on and on until eventually Kiyotaka stepped in, beyond frustrated with Mondo’s constant moping.

He told you very plainly that Mondo thought you were cute, and was just really bad at talking to people.

In spite of your blushing and stuttering, you could relate to him in that regard. You’d always been incredibly shy and insecure, so you suddenly found Mondo’s fumbles… really cute.

You gathered up all your courage, and approached Mondo yourself.

You were barely able to get the words out, but you told Mondo that you felt the same way.

Mondo could have died on the spot.

He just thought you were so beautiful, especially when your face was tinted that dusty pink color.

He ended up not saying a word, because he really didn’t wanna yell at you again. He just nodded, and gave you a nervous, wobbly smile that melted your heart.

And thus marked the beginning of the world’s best relationship.

Mondo is nothing if not a gentleman. Growing up, his brother taught him everything about how to treat a woman.

“Real men treat their gals right. If I find out yer treatin’ future girlfriend as anythin’ less than a princess, I’ll beat yer ass.” — Daiya Owada

His main love language is physical affection, but he’s too nervous at the beginning to initiate that, so he settles on spoiling you instead.

He just loves making stuff for you. Jewelry, food, a cool chair, you name it and it’s yours.

A little roadblock here is that you have no idea how to accept gifts, so kinda just hands things to you and then runs away before you can start with your “oh, I couldn’t take this! You worked so hard on it!” spiel.

Later in the relationship, when he’s more confident, you can’t pry him off you.

He just loves to hold you so much! He adores how soft and fragile you seem, he can’t help but keep his arms around you at all times.

If you’re insecure about your weight or your appearance, he’s going to be absolutely scandalized.

How could you possibly think you were anything less than perfect? You were clearly the most gorgeous girl in the world! He’d have to put a stop to that thinking.

He’d hug you so tight, and tell you very seriously to never think of yourself that way again. That if you’re ever feeling lesser, to come to him, and he’d throw those thoughts out the door.

And if anyone dared to tease you about it? Oh, he’d go batshit.

He doesn’t like to get violent around you, especially knowing how easily frightened you are, but he would simply have to commit a crime.

He introduces you to the Crazy Diamonds, and they all adore you.

They take a solemn vow to protect you for the sake of their boss, who has never gotten a girl to date him before.

The two of you are flustered disasters around each other, but it never stops you from letting each other know how much you love them<3

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#danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #trigger happy havoc #mondo owada #owada mondo #mondo oowada #oowada mondo #dr1 #fanfic #x reader #request #mondo x reader #mondo owada x reader #fluff #cute #fan fiction #writing #requests are open #!!!

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