— @kagemaneking (:

@kagemaneking

home is in your body

So...I graduated yesterday and i still haven't recovered from the rush of adrenaline.

This archivement means so much to me because it's the first concrete goal that I've reached with my own resources...after my life turned upside down...so... I'm proud of myself...

I'm proud... of myself

I'M PROUD OF MYSELF.

And...yeah sometimes it's nice to remember how it feels to be proud of yourself...💕

Word count: 182

Character: Toko Fukawa | Danganronpa + writer

Story type: diary/monologue

Short summary: Is it painful to love? Toko Fukawa falls in love many times, quickly, and desperately. She decided to write down her inner thoughts but transformed into poetry, just like the Ultimate Writing Prodigy would do. Romantic to the core, the monologues will mostly be about and all around passion, affection and lust, and the way she “welcomes” it ㅡ with discomfort; with fear.

Notes (Important! Please read): I know it’s sudden, but I decided to move this project I started on my Instagram here. This is an in-character and personal mixed monologue, which means some of the thoughts written here are my own. You should know Toko’s story well enough to read this, but I’ll give you a hint: she falls in love many times, quickly, and desperately. These monologues are not strictly related to Byakuya, but it refers to one guy in particular, which, at the moment, IS Byakuya. I’m no writing prodigy guys, but I really hope you like them. These are very personal!

Read on AO3

ㅡ

Part 1: "There probably won't ever be another part, I just tried to pull fine literature out of 3am sadness"

Before you could completely drain the soul out of my body, many people did it before ㅡ me, lonely well in an isolated village.

Countless other shadows took water out of me but no one ever came to return it.

From time to time, their filthy conscience would come back before me, demanding to be renewed, and their voracious void, devouring itself over and over, would need to be filled of my very blood, then to just return to lean over and barf their inner rottenness ㅡ they adored how I made them feel like the person they were not, when the purity of my own being penetrated through their veins and cleaned their insides, how they begged for me as if I was their elisir of blissfulness and eternal youth.

Similarly, you raped my gentle spirit and you stole my innocence, my gullible trust; you bared-handendly crammed togheter my heart, shattering vessels and skin.

And I let you do that, each time. 

I let you do that ㅡ because when you do that, I feel like I belong to you.

Somehow.

ㅡ