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A place that exists between dream and reality, mind and matter... Supposedly, that is the nature of the Velvet Room. It’s a lot of information to absorb for one resident, who much alike Caroline and Justine also has no recollection of his past. All he can remember is his name, and even then, something about it feels... incomplete.

Considering the confusion and uncertainty in regards to his own existence, it isn’t often that he wanders the room, especially not alone. Yet, as is the case with all small odds, the possibility had still been there, and it would seem that today he has been left to take care of things while Igor and the twins are dealing with other matters.

Busying himself by leaning against the bars of the ‘inmate’s cell and flicking through the compendium, he’s taken a little off guard when he suddenly senses a presence appear inside. Looking over his shoulder, golden eyes flicker to the source—

“...Ah.” Closing the book with an accidental thump from the sheer thickness of it, he carefully tucks it under one arm, turning to face the person he’s only heard of, not met, until today. “Welcome. I’m... afraid nobody else is here today, sorry. I’ve been asked to take care of their usual duties instead. Is there anything I can help you with?”

patroclus;

you are patroclus, from the iliad by homer, doomed by fate to be stuck in a love story that has no place on the battlefield. although you always have the best intentions, you have to realize you cannot save everyone. your unwavering loyalty means you often lose yourself in the process of putting others first. take a deep breath, remember who you are, and that you are deserving of the same love you try to put out. you are kind, you are strong, and you give and you give but it is never enough to protect those you love. in the end, it's not even enough to protect yourself.

tagged by: @musaeon​​

Fiction, reality... hope, despair... Ouma’s been filled in about the situation by now. It’d be hard for him not to know about things when they’re all stuck in this building for the time being. Really, it’s all just laughable. His past was a lie? He willingly signed up for that killing game, died in it— Oh! Except he didn’t actually die. Nope. Just like everyone else, here he is, living and breathing in the aftermath of a fictional killing game that took place entirely within virtual reality.

Memories from within the simulation still feel all too fresh and clear to him. On the contrary, he doesn’t have the foggiest idea of what his life was like before he signed up for this. Even if he asked the Team Danganronpa staff if he’d ever remember, it’s not like he’d trust their answers. They just want everyone to ‘get over it’ and get out, even if they wrap that all up in health checks and therapy sessions. It’s all to save face. It’s all so obvious.

And so here he is, sitting in one of the communal lounge areas staring into a cup of tea that’s definitely gone cold by now. He sees his reflection, lips pressed into a line and face looking so tired—

Then, he hears footsteps. He almost jumps a little, but manages to catch himself just in time. Purple eyes glance up at the source of the noise.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Ugh. Too weak-sounding. Too vulnerable. Though he’s exhausted, he forces a grin, hands going behind his head as he puts some energy into his words this time.

“Saihara-chan! Come to check on lil ol’ me? Aww, you shouldn’t have.”

You really shouldn’t have, he thinks to himself, ignoring the urge he feels to bring his hands back down and ball them into fists at his side. It’s not that he hates Saihara’s presence. In fact, his mood lifts just a bit at the idea that maybe Saihara really had entered the lounge to check on him. It’s just...

One step. Two steps. No matter how many times Saihara walks down the hallways of this building, every step feels as heavy as the last. They’ll be allowed out on their own soon enough, he’s told, and he can’t help but wonder if they all actually want that. Living in this building is far from ideal. Not only that, but he’d vowed to never look away from the truth ever again. And yet... yet...

Danganronpa. This 53rd season they’d signed up for. He still can’t remember the process. Whether he’ll ever remember or not appears to be a mystery for the time being, what with the Team Danganronpa staff being as vague as usual. Either way, that one simple word will follow him wherever he goes from here on. He doesn’t think that’s something someone can ever be truly prepared for.

Lost in these thoughts, he doesn’t notice when he almost bumps into someone walking in the opposite direction. His attention is only caught when the slight bump causes his (internet-less, naturally) phone to drop to the floor. Dragging his gaze up, he opens his mouth to apologise when—

He pauses.

“...Shirogane.”

The utter distaste in his tone is clear as day. Though he hasn’t gone out of his way to avoid her, any interactions up until now have been kept as brief as possible, not sparing her a single word.

He doesn’t move to pick up his phone.

“Where are you going?”

How long has it been since everyone woke up from the simulation? Since the 53rd season of Danganronpa came to an end? Saihara doesn’t know the specifics. While they’ve all been confined to the same building they woke up in, subject to health exams and therapy sessions— as if Team Danganronpa actually cared before being let out, as opposed to them not wanting any legal trouble...

Everything, including time itself, has seemed to exist within a vacuum. The more ‘ready’ to face the world they seem (and Saihara does question what precisely are the requirements to draw such a conclusion)— the more they’re given access to. Limited internet time; often supervised. Leaving the building as long as they don’t stray too far; also often supervised. It’s beyond surreal, but he supposes everything about this situation could be encapsulated by that very word. Surreal.

There’s a small sigh he keeps to himself as he carries a tray of tea towards Gonta’s assigned room. He’s taken it upon himself to regularly check in on everyone, and today is no exception, no matter how much his thoughts may wander towards the gloominess of their situation as a whole.

Awkwardly placing the tray on the floor for a moment— not trusting his sense of balance quite that much, he knocks on the door before picking it up again.

a flash - bang of pain , and his head had shattered into nothingness. pain had been only momentary, but it’d been enough to make him realize that he’d been dead–

when his consciousness comes back though, there’s no ghost of the past that he’d expected to linger.

ah, he thinks. this is the afterlife. he’d never believed in it. a voice sounds, but he can’t make the words out – his consciousness boots awake into reality, drawing itself away from fiction.

…

“ah…”

his voice is hoarse, and the sound escaping his lips is more of a dry exhale searching for water. the afterlife… feels so ridiculously mortal, so ridiculously human. 

eyes blearily open, not sure what to expect– his body is heavy, weighted, non-responsive. 

… maybe he was alive…? 

he tries to form words, but nothing comes out– he mouths an obvious question, but his voice stays dead.

where am i…?

as his gaze focuses. 

where is he…?

he can’t turn his head to the side, but… he stirs slightly, attempting to.

Ever since the end of Danganronpa 53, Saihara had been wondering who would wake first. One theory floating around in his mind had been that the person who died first might wake up first, and so on. As it turns out...

That theory is turned into reality the second he hears a hoarse voice sound.

“A-Amami kun...?” Stammered out, he just about manages to stop himself from exclaiming his name. Despite knowing full well that everyone would come back to them at some point, he hadn’t expected it to happen now... hadn’t been prepared.

His heart beats at what feels like one thousand miles an hour, surprise, concern, and relief all blending together in a strange mix. Reaching down for a bottle of water, he’s quick to remove the cap and pass it over instead of the tea— unsure if the latter would be a wise choice for now. He’d prepared the tea for when they were more... awake, after all.

“Please, don’t try to move too much... You’re safe. It’s okay. I’ll explain everything when you’re more awake. For now, just... drink some of this.”

angst starters!! – Accepting!!

@multihearted asked: "If one of us has to live, I’d rather it was you.“ ( vocapro!amami -> soldier!saihara )

“…Rantaro-kun.”

The soldier’s voice is low, quiet. A warning. Golden eyes are narrowed. His gaze is calculative. Few and far in between, if any, can catch the Super High School Level Soldier. To be put into such a situation? To be caught, to be caged.

His mind races to assess the situation. Their captors chose Rantaro-kun over his brother. Of course, they’re both of equal importance to him. But would their captors know that? Typically speaking, one goes for family first over friends.

The room is too dark to ascertain any specific details just yet. Saihara’s waiting for his eyes to adjust. He and Rantaro-kun are back to back, but cuffs keep them in place. Whatever sick game they’re about to be pulled into will reveal itself soon enough.

“I am not sacrificing you. I won’t.”

A soldier is the one on the battlefield, so that civilians may live their lives. He fights so his loved ones don’t have to. He chooses to lay down his life, so they need not. It’s the truth he’s chosen. And… should he ever die, Rantaro-kun’s who he would trust to look out for Kouji and their friends. If one of them must die, Saihara will accept his fate.

Green eyes narrow back into golden. For everything this situation is, ideal it is not. Even favourable misses the mark. The odds are against them, and though one might expect the Ultimate Soldier to be able to power through with ease...

Well, Amami knows. His best friend is far from heartless. His own being here could make Saihara falter, make him hesitate, endanger himself—

As used to danger as Saihara may be, Amami can’t risk him getting hurt. Especially because of him. What would he tell their friends? What would he tell Kouji? And... what would he tell himself?

“Wasn’t a question, Shuichi-kun.”

Voice equally quiet, not wanting to alert their captors should they happen to be nearby, there’s a certain coldness that he forces into his words. Being kind and self-sacrificial won’t get them anywhere. If anything, he figures it’ll only make Saihara more opposed to the idea. He needs to speak reasonably, logically— get under his skin a bit.

“Already know I’d just weigh you down in a fight, yeah? Don’t think we’ll be able to peacefully talk our way out of this either,” he continues, struggling against the cuffs briefly with a sigh. “So, our best bet would be if you get out of here and get help. Take the first opening and go for it.”

touch me with tender truth.

you crave being known and held. you just want the warmth and pressure of another body against your own. sometimes, late at night when you're alone in your bed, your skin aches with the lack of touch. you've tried touching yourself, and it isn't the same. one time someone gripped your shoulder and squeezed it in passing, and you thought about it for weeks after - the ghost pressure of their hand lingering. don't you deserve it? consistent physical love and caring? i think so, i think you do. but i also have to ask - do you fear it even as you want? after all, if you get it then it might also be taken away. i hope that if you fear it, you push through past that fear. that you ask for the touch you desire and deserve. i hope that you get touched with love and kindness, wrapped up in warm arms and rocked from side to side until the tension and pain falls away layer by layer and only you are left.

you attract: longing

yearning from a safe distance; endless midnights of your mind being clouded with whoever it is you want to hold; catching small glimpses of the love you wish to have through flitting moments of smiling and gentle glances. you attract longing. whether that be your own yearning or a person yearning for your heart, longing surrounds you and encompasses the entirety of your life. you breathe and the people around you smile, taking second glances, feeling their breath catch in their throat. flowers grow to the direction of you. the sun rises to smile at you and wish you good morning. you attract ladybugs, butterflies, bumblebees, and all the insects that seem to flutter too fast to catch. there's no need for you to catch them, they just want to be there with you. you are a forcefield, a magnet for those who you've wrapped around your finger, perhaps unknowingly. you ... are longing personified.