#pre despair

[theidiotwhowrites]

Cold Hearted Aristocrat

Byakuya Togami x Fencer Reader

Equals

(Story is related to this post I made, lol Togami won by a landslide)

Warning;

Rude comments, Classism, Pre Despair Arc, Reader comes from a financially unstable household (broke), Rivals to lovers (slow burn), Reader with a fencing background, Slow start, Fighting (not with fist), Multipart. Kinda petty Reader (Aren't we all tho?)

You have been warned

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Hope's Peak Academy

was the most prestigious private institution were anyone could go to, fortunately, you we're accepted but for you, it was a bittersweet moment.

Everyone praised you you all you could think about was leaving your life behind

Fencing is what you had that didn't let you down and now it would have been thrown aside.

You finally felt like you did something, made your family proud but it didn't feel right.

All those days you've practiced for your upcoming tournament felt like a waste.

Sleep, School, Fencing, Rinse and Repeat It was routine, the thought of breaking from it didn't sit right with you.

It wouldn't for anybody yet. You were supposed to be grateful and not "whine" about it but how could you when what you held dear was getting stripped away you weren't an Ultimate with a mind-blowing talent; Ultimates are what the school called their most gifted and breathtaking students,

(Your fencing skills weren't all that)

Unlike them it didn't change lives, it didn't inspire hope and technically you also weren't a 'Proper Reserve Course' student by definition, being that you didn't pay your way in.

Maybe the school's leader board took pity on you and accepted only because of your academics.

Maybe they have an ulterior motive.

Nobody Knows.

Standing in front of the tall building, blue pillars from behind peak out catching the corner of your eyes.

You walk through the gates but that was 2 months ago..

Now you lie awake in your dorm, boring and plain are the decorations. The only spark it has is what you added which wasn't much since you weren't able too.

The days passing by started turning into mirrored images of the last.

It is better than wondering about what you were going to eat today or if there's any water or something added to the unpredictable chaos of poverty .

You weren't your classes top student.

(mostly given that the one's that were bribed the teachers into giving them better marks)

Or had close friends of any kind from the school.

You simply laid low. Invisible.

Staying in the background, with the spotlight never gracing your face for no longer than a second...

...Till

The speakers called your name. Echoing throughout the empty halls. The stares from the others you didn't see, you felt, buried in the back of your skull.

All eyes were focused on you while you packed your things and said your temporary goodbyes.

Sprinting, you rush towards the headmaster's office. Slowly knocking on the door, opening it with shaky hands.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble" Says the headmaster; Jin Krigri, next to his right sits another man one that's quite unfamiliar,

"Before your arrival, the school did a background check on you as we do with all our students."

He shifts his chair

"And I was informed that you had done extra curricular activities so too make you feel more welcomed and I took it upon myself to give you that chance again".

Endorphins filled with excitement lace through your veins. This was your redemption, a second chance. The thought of it makes you wanna shout for joy. You felt like you were overflowing with bliss and swimming in happiness.

If you signed up, another competition would be in your grasp. To be able to do what was taken from you. Being awarded, adored, standing infront of a stage whilst the crowd cheers for you, holding a medal you earned.

It's almost to much to bare.

Almost.

"Why?" You question. I didnt make sense, there has to have some repercussion. Opportunities like theses don't come without them. There is something that looking lurk beneath such a pretty offer.

A faint smile crosses the stranger's lips as Mr Kirigri speaks up again.

"I did expect that, you, are a smart student after all. In return all I ask is if you continue your fencing journey with a new coach..." He gestures to his right.

"Coach Tsukuda" The man interjects, standing up from his chair before calmly walking over, putting one of his hands in front of him.

Hesitantly, you shake it.

Mr Tsukuda's, hands are rough to the touch, lacking any moisture with it. Bumpy like an unrepaired road, It's an unpleasant feeling against your own but you don't feel the need to decline.

To not be impolite, of course.

"It's is pleasure to meet you" He remarked.

"Ahem" Mr Krigri clears his throat, drawing attention back to him.

"As I was saying, if you choose to make the conscious choice to accept this proposal by joining our fencing club, all ask in return is if you compete in a tournament overseas with your fellow members, you as well as them to talk about the school in a positive light. Too nudge our reputation in the right direction."

He puts heavy emphasis on the word right.

In other words Mr Krigri wants you to make the school look good. It was nothing short of unsurprising. Playing only a pawn in the time consuming game of social climbing.

You agreed to such conditions. Being the schools talking puppet for a moment in time is better than the constant agony of boredom and longing for excitement. Some may disagree but it is a price willing to be payed.

The next day painfully went by.

Seconds turned into minutes.

Minutes turned into hours and at this rate you felt like you were going to rip your hair out by the roots as the hands of time perceived to moved slower and slower and even slower.

The bell rings, ending your torment.

Lazily, you turn the metal handle mounted on the wooden door, walking inside.

Yanking the strap of the duffle bag, destined to be forgotten before today, pulling it over your shoulder, leaving from whence you came.

Hope's peak was undoubtedly beautiful. A perfect muse for photography. However it's only flaw are the stairs, You trance your index finger over the matte black railing. It is such a tedious experience but how else were you going to get there?.

After what felt like forever, you stand before the Gymnatorium.

The temporary room for the fencing club. It calls your name like a siren song.

Spacious

It's the first thing you notice, the room is elegant yet simplistic. Gym equipment neatly placed in the corners of the room.

Everyone talked in there own flock, mingling with their friends. Selectivity amongst others. Everyone except one.

Silently reading on a bench with a scowl on his face. Blonde hair falls to his face as a white gloved hand fixes his hair. For a second they looks up, his eyes connecting with yours.

The door behind you creaked behind you, ripping you from your thoughts. Making you look at the at the source of the sound

Coach Tsukuda stands in front of the door, he signals you to come closer. A sense of unease washes over you.

"You're here" He says, his voice lacks surprise, simply pointing out facts. He pauses to think of his next words.

"How good would you say you were at fencing before now?" Odd.

You shrugged. Doubt clouds your next judgement.

You thought you were good but are you?. Are you actually or were the people you were surrounded with weren't any better?. Questioning your abilities.

"I don't know, good I guess" Was your response. Being humble about your talents. Maybe they were good but I didn't earn you a title. You still weren't an ultimate.

"Why do you ask?" You added. Not really sure where he was going with this.

"I've been thinking. That's our best fencer-" Coach points at the blonde on the bench, who continues to read. Not noticing that he is the object of your conversation.

"He thinks he lacks any competition and truth be told he's not wrong and you haven't show cased your skills to me, go and put on your gear, I'll be back to you in a second"

You oblige. Putting on your gear you notice, it's tight.

You are still able to move somewhat comfortably but it's feels strange. Perhaps it's from the length of time you haven't worn it or you just need a new one. You toss your uniform in your bag.

Out of the changing rooms. You see Mr Tsukuda who stands next to the boy on the bench, signaling you to come towards them. Well he's off of the bench now so you can't call him that anymore. You should ask what his name is.

Standing on the safety mat, it's a peculiar felling under your shoes.

Mr Tsukuda's gestures to you

"This is who you will be fighting against, nothing drastic, best of five hits. "

The coach steps to the side and get step forward, to the boy.

He looks you up and down. Sapphire eyes studying your body. Judging every inch of you.

The tension is thick. To distract from it, you try to introduce yourself.

"Uhhh, Hi my name is-" Try, he cuts you off.

"I know who you are, I have not the energy to entertain this discussion you plan on conjuring with me, commoner. Let's get this over with. You will lose either way."

His tongue is razor sharp, cutting into you, deep. Dripping with distain.

What is his problem? Did he wake up on the wrong side of life or something? He had not only rejected your advances but as well as insulted you in the same breath.

Tough Crowd.

So sure that he's better. It doesn't matter t you who does but now you want to, to win, simply push it in his face. To mess with his sense of arrogance.

You scuff at his remark. Glaring at his monotone expression.

He grabs a what seems random to be a random épeé however it has a interesting design, one you haven't seen before.

Like any sport fencing has rules, mostly with its equipment. Every fencing sword has it own set of rules. Foil, only being able to touch your competitor torso. Saber, allowing to hit your opponent waist up, only. However the Éppé is the easiest to remember, having free range.

Grabbing your éppé, you get in stance. He makes one last swift movement he puts on his mask.

"Start!" The words echo through your ears. With quick pace he lunges towards you. You raise your blade. Swords clashing together, stepping back. Maintaining momentum, dodging his attacks. The tip of the blade touches you chest. "I suggest you give up, to prevent the shame of your inevitable loss."

"Shut up...." You mutter under your breath, he seemed to be getting to you. "En garde!"

The contrast of your outfits becomes more clear. A dry taste fills your mouth. Adrenaline rushes through your brain. Under your gloves, sweat drips from your palms. Your next moves are calculated. You swung, A slash against his waist stops him in his tracks. Gaining you a point.

"Wanna give up?" You taunted, mocking his previous statement.

You can hear his teeth clench under his mask as he made his next attack. You move your blade. Determined. Both blades swing left to right.

Your eyes scan over the room, glassed over. The sleeves feel like they dig into your wrist.

Faces close to each. Weapons stranded against each other. Looking for an opening. A thud rings out, as he lands to the floor. The sound of heart beat fills your ears.

You hit him with one final strike, simultaneously the metal of sword hit your leg with force.

"Take break" Coach says.

He gets up from the floor, brushing the dirt off of him. Dropping it without a care, leaving.

Your hands feel sore to the touch. He comes to a sharp halt. Standing there before he utters. For the first time in his life he has met and equal. A person on the same level as him.

"Byakuya Togami...."

"Excuse me?" You says, taking off your mask.

"Byakuya Togami.....it's my name, considering you asked earlier. However do not think for a moment this means I am willing to fraternize with you."

Oh.... So he's not so cold after all?

... To be continued ...

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Should I continue this?

I can't believe this took me a month, it feels like nobody write about fencing even though it's such an interesting sport and I say this purely off research. Where I live we don't have that so I have no prior experience.

And when people write about fencing in media, it's very overlooked. It's kinda like a place holder for time rather than the main plot point but whatever.

Also shout out to the people who supported me on this long adventure. (You know who you are)

Thank you for reading, it is really appreciated. (◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[casualavocados]

Learn from who? Learn from you? You are still a brat. What do you know? You're only three years older. Like you are any better than me. You're 21, and still a virgin. What are you proud of? I think you can't do it.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 06

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

I'm still thinking about that post from earlier because, really, as someone who has been into DR for far too long at this point, it is tiring and disheartening to see new fans embarrassed or nervous to post. I can't tell you how many times Ive seen fan posts couched with captions like "sorry I like DR now" or "this game sucks lol' or "I hated dr but I like x." And like, I get it, I really do. I felt that way too when I first joined the fandom, and obviously there is a lot to criticize about this series. But it is sad to see so much apprehension talking about liking something or a part of something that you feel the need to add negativity like that to an otherwise positive post. And its exhausting to see as a fan when you have to see it over and over and over again.

This isn't even an in-fandom problem which makes it kinda hard to do anything about too? Almost everyone who posts like this is new to the fandom or just passing through. It's just DR's reputation as "completely irredeemable trash media" that makes people feel that way, and its sad. I just wish people who are clearly feeling genuine positive emotions about DR could let themselves feel those things without the fear of being sent to tumblr hell for the sin of liking a piece of media that's not perfect.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

the artblock be hitteth Harder than normal, for tis not normal artblock. woe. Wally be upon ye

[drysaladandketchup]

when the existential dread sets in

EDM vs. OTT || Jan 6, 2024

[abysssmare]

well, that was just your conceit, right?

[mirai-e-jump]

『王様戦隊キングオージャー』戦隊ヒーローぬいぐるみ

[mindbrokengirl]

you could be that submissive "trans man"'s last grindr hookup!! get her on her back and fuck her deep and slow. tell her you know how hard it is for her, desperate to be a sex object but stuck begging men to experiment with her. tell her you think she'd still be a beautiful woman. moan and thrust into her harder. spread her thighs wider and fantasize out loud about how juicy they'd look in a miniskirt. make her feel satisfied, finally treated like a piece of meat. grope her, pull her down by her hips. men on the street will want to do this to her, not just the ones she has to fish for online. its so easy. just be a woman, thats all it takes. cum inside her. tell her later you were imagining what she'll look like in a year off t. enjoy the rush of confusion and relief relaxing her body in your arms, and the delighted noises she makes when she realizes she's still prey

[wheels-of-despair]

Draw Me Like One of Your Dwarf Girls, Eddie Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie decides to work on his drawing skills, and accidentally awakens a monster in the process. Contains: Titanic references, female nudity, a brush with death. Word Count: 1.3k-ish

"Draw me like one of your dwarf girls, Eddie," you say in a sultry voice, trying your hardest not to laugh.

"What did I tell you about talking?" He pauses to give you a pointed look, since he's already told you to pipe down several times. You roll your eyes, and he returns to his drawing with a renewed vigor.

It's early 1998, and you've recently dragged your poor Eddie to a theater to see that damn Titanic movie everybody and their mother keeps raging about. All 3 hours of it. You may have neglected to mention the runtime when you bought the tickets. You owe him.

He survived, but was suddenly faced with the desire to "work on his people-sketching skills." Which of course meant it took him less than a week to convince you to strip and pose like Rose on the couch, wearing only that red guitar pick necklace he's had since high school.

You're stretched out and exposed and already bored. Two hours ago, he'd adjusted your hand a quarter of an inch this way, your knee a quarter of an inch that way, and you'd been instructed not to move.

Well, it felt like two hours, but it was really only about 30 minutes.

With nothing else to do, and being mildly disappointed that he didn't find your commentary amusing, you watch his eyes follow the pencil scratching across the paper you can't see. He's cute when he's concentrating. Tongue poking out, brow furrowed, that spark of creativity in his eye. It must be going well, because he smiles occasionally. He even giggled once. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably had something to do with a nipple. It was a little chilly.

"Just as I thought; it's a masterpiece."

"Are you done?" You'd only been in this position for an eternity.

"Oh yeah, this baby's getting framed." Ignoring you, he holds his sketch pad out to view it at an arm's length, beaming at his creation.

"Can I move now?!"

"Yeah, you can move."

You stretch your stiff limbs and get up off the couch, reaching for the flannel he'd discarded on a chair nearby, buttoning a few buttons as you pad over to where he sat admiring his work.

You place a hand on his back and look over his shoulder at the figure on his sketchbook. You're confused, but you can't take your eyes off of it. You can't think of anything to say. Until…

"What. The FUCK. Is THAT."

He looks up innocently and says, "What? I was just following instructions. You kept talking, figured I better listen."

You have no words.

You do, however, have a fucking BEARD in Eddie's drawing.

He sits there, looking up at you with a proud grin on his face, waiting for you to react.

You stare at him wordlessly, still in a state of shock.

Until he laughs at you. LAUGHS AT YOU.

Your brain begins to swirl furiously, until it flashes one word: KILL.

You clench your fists, and he begins to sense that you're not going to start laughing with him. His eyes widen, and he jumps out of his chair, vaults over the coffee table, and stands on the couch.

"I can explain," he says quickly, trying to sound calm, steps unsteady on the cushions.

You can explain too. Explain to the responding officers how one Edward James Munson met his gruesome demise.

"It's Tolkien."

You ignore him and advance slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Eyes unblinking. Blood boiling. Steam probably coming out of your ears. He jumps off the couch as you approach the coffee table.

"It's from a book!" He's walking backward, holding out his sketch pad like a lion tamer with a chair.

His eyes bulge as he hits something solid. You've backed him into a corner. Literally.

"Tolkien! Middle-earth! The Hobbit! Nerd shit!"

Nerd shit won't save you now, Munson. You narrow your eyes and prepare to go in for the kill. He panics.

"Dwarf women have beards! It was a joke! I'm sorry! I love you!"

The "I love you" makes you pause, just as you were about to pounce and slash your prey to pieces. The hell?

"What?" you ask, giving your head a slight shake in confusion.

"Dwarf women have beards. In the books. You said to draw you like a dwarf. It was a joke. I thought you'd know what it was."

"You thought I'd know some random detail from a book I haven't read in over a decade?"

"I mean, it's a pretty memorable detail…"

You roll your eyes, heave a sigh, and pinch the bridge of your nose. Why is this not surprising?

"So you're not gonna kill me?" He's still backed into his corner. You consider it for a moment, deciding that you've played with him enough for today.

"Not tonight, Munson."

He exhales and leans his head back against the wall.

"But I WILL get you for this," you threaten, pointing a finger at him. He nods, used to this constant back-and-forth game you'd both been playing for over a decade. He knew you'd never really hurt him, just like you knew he wouldn't hurt you either. It was just a game.

You turn to walk away, and hear him whisper to the abomination he's still clutching: "Don't worry baby, you're still gettin' framed."

You whip around, eyes flashing. He gulps. You step closer, making him lean further back into the wall. He's cute when he's scared.

"Give it."

He stares at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his.

"Give it," you repeat, holding out a hand and waiting for him to place his sketchbook into it.

Reluctantly, he hands it to you. You maintain eye contact as your fingers find the thick cover page, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at his ungodly creation again. You slam it shut and he flinches.

"What are you gonna do with it?"

Beat your nerdy ass to death with it.

Still clutching his sketch pad, you step back silently and gesture for him to walk on by with your free hand. He slowly peels himself off the wall and begins to move with an apprehensive look in your direction, and a thought occurs to you.

As he scurries past you, you smack him on the ass with his sketchbook. He whirls around with a yelp, hands clutching his cheeks. It's cardboard, you drama queen. You step closer and swing the book at his arm.

"You made me lay there for AN HOUR! While! You! Drew! That!" You punctuate each word with another smack of the sketch pad. He continues overreacting to each hit and falls to the floor with a wail when you finish yelling, clutching his imaginary wounds. You lift the book above your head with both hands, ready to finish him.

"It started out real! But I couldn't make it look like you! It wasn't pretty enough!" You graciously decide to let him continue, still holding the sketchbook in an attack position, just in case. "I tried," he explains calmly now, "but it wasn't working out, and then you said the dwarf thing, and I thought it would be funny. I'll make it up to you."

"Damn right, you will." You lower the book and release it. It lands on his chest with a light thud. He grins from his position on the floor. You step over him and make your way toward the bedroom.

"Starting now," you inform him from the hallway, not slowing or turning around. You hear him scramble to get up, knock something over, and curse before he hurries in your direction.

He's lucky he's cute.

[turnaboutsisterzarchive]

sometimes i hate you but right now i just wanna go home

[spittyfishy]

For remnant Kork: do you ever see your sister’s ghost?

[sleepyblr-heart]

i've come to some importatn conclusions abt the pre-points

[writing-for-life]

Despair—David Mack

"To be Despair.

It is a portrait.

Only close your eyes and feel."

- Neil Gaiman

[wist-eri]

okay i’m going (slightly) insane

david fit inspired by this post from @sunriseindigo!

[phantasmalnightmare]

Starter for @despairs-memorial

Junko stared down at the board member listlessly. "Heyyyy. Don't give up already. I just took one eye. Don't you wanna like live or something? Pretty L to just give up like this if you ask me." She huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms across her chest. The man had stopped struggling and crying after she'd taken his eye. She grabbed a spoonful of curry and placed his eyeball on top, bringing it to his face, but the spark of hope that had been in his eyes earlier was long gone. "Say Ah~" She trilled, and forced the spoon into his mouth, but the man had no strength to chew, or even to spit, as the curry mix fell out of his mouth, and dribbled onto the front of his shirt. "Ick."

"BORING. Hey sis!" She called out, knowing that Mukuro was somewhere else in the small house. "Get your fat, smelly, ugly ass in here! I need someone to take out this garbage." The Fashionista kicked the man with her heel for emphasis. She wore very sharp and sturdy stilettos, and the heel sank into the man's leg with a satisfying squelch.

The man was still alive and managed a small whimper, but he was already in the realms of despair. "Where is that ugly cow!? Do I have to do everything myself? I don't wanna kill someone who's already broken. It's like totally no fun." She pouted.

[leviadraws]

Happy spooky month!

Decided to go for a wicked/wizard of oz theme ( perhaps they’re doing it for a school play?)

Kinjo is Dorothy because he looks the best in blue lol