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neon blue by friends-are-4ever

Its very simple, but in the good way. I've never seen anything like this, just the word neon in neon. I love how both N's are bolted do...


So, unfortunately, I had to do a factory reset on my computer and lost all my stories that I was working on.  I'm a little down, so all the encouragement you can give me would help.
It didn’t seem to be fair.  After all the time you spent (three hours to be precise) practicing darts, he won.  He had no previous skills, no hidden talent, and no gift.  So how did he win; it was pure luck and that frustrated you to the core.  He could probably pick the card you were thinking of right off the top of the deck; he was just that lucky.  How could anyone be that lucky?  Whatever the reason, it bugged the living shit out of you.

“I guess that makes four to zero.”  He beamed and chuckled.  Oh how you hated that proud smiling face, and his laugh was just plain creepy.  How you wished he would just shut up.  You had to stop and ponder: why do I hate him so much?  Then you remembered; he’s a psychopathic freak.  He’s was the reason two of your friends, Teruteru and Byakuya, had died.  Just looking at him sickened you.

So why were you playing darts with him if you wanted to kill him more than anything?  Because Kazuichi and Nekomaru needed you to distract him so they could capture and tie him up so he didn’t cause any more damage.  The two of them were idiots, but they were right; he was a danger to everyone around.  But you wanted nothing more than to see him dead.

“Yeah, you sure won Nagito-San.”  You had to keep yourself from snapping him neck; your efforts were too obvious.  “Hey, (Y/N)-Chan?  Are you alright?  You seem upset?”  He inquired.  Why was he referring to you as Chan?  It made you feel queasy for him to regard you as a familiar.  “It isn’t right for a hope like you to be so down.”  He gave you his signature smile and pat your shoulder.  “Whatever it is you can talk to me about it.  You won’t trouble me.  In fact, I want to hear what you have to say; hearing one of the ultimate’s problems will make their hope shine even brighter!”  He was way too excited.

He was sending you to your breaking point; you could only clench your teeth in resentment.  “Don’t worry.  It’s nothing.”  You let out a fake girly giggle and threw the next dart.  You decided to focus all your energy on the next game; that might take your mind off how much you wanted to beat this guy senseless.  

You drew your arm back, dart in hand.  Your eyes focusing on nothing but the target in front of you.  By shutting your eyes for a moment you were able to achieve a sense of tranquility.  Inhale, you paused, then exhale.  Your eyes slowly opened like a butterfly’s wings.  Steady, steady, steady, aim, fire!  Your arm had fired the dart like a gun.  You could practically hear the whistling sound in the air for your arm had moved so swiftly.  After flying through the air like a sparrow the dart finally hit its target.  “Bullseye,” you whispered to yourself, grinning enthusiastically.  

This time you were going to beat him for sure.  Wait?  You paused; why were suddenly getting so competitive?  Your gaze wondered to the window; there you saw the two idiots, (Nekomaru and Kazuichi) sneaking around to the other side of the building to enter through the opposite door, rope in hand.  That way, they’d be able to catch Nagito from behind and off guard.  Kazuichi smirked and gave you a thumbs up before returning to sneaking to the other door, eventually disappearing from your sight.  You rolled your eyes and waited for Nagito to throw his dart.

He hesitated, looking over at you with his revolting smile.  “You know (Y/N)-Chan,” you perked up, fearing that he might have caught wind of your plan, “you really should smile more.”  He then turned away from you and threw the dart with perfect aim, landing it almost on top of your dart.  What was that supposed to mean?  Was he calling you ugly or was he flirting with you?  You stood there wondering with a disgusted look on your face.

“Um, (Y/N)-Chan?  It’s your turn,” he brought you back from your daze.  No, you had to act normal, otherwise he’d find out about the plan.  “O-Oh, right,” you threw absentmindedly, causing your dart to stick to the very edge of the dartboard.  “Damn it,” you cursed under your breath.  He then began to laugh, not a creepy laugh, but a genuine good-hearted chuckle; actually, it was kind of cute.  What?  What were you saying?  Get that nasty thought out of your head.  

He then joyously walked over to the dartboard like dancing on air and pulled the last dart that you threw out; he then walked back over to you, took your hand ever so delicately and opened your palm.  “Why don’t you try again?”  He questioned as he placed the dart in your open palm, but left his hand there for a few seconds.  His eyes were bright and excited, almost like a newborn child’s.  His smile was calm and collected, unlike his pervious insane smiles.

Then, he took hold of your arm and wrapped his other arm around your waist, positioning your body: bending your elbow slightly, pulling your arm back, and tinkering with your posture.  “There, now throw it!”  He commanded.  You whipped your arm back and threw it as forcefully as you could. The dart hit the board with a smack.  “Bullseye!”  He exclaimed, laughing ecstatically as it said so.  You were in awe.  How did he do that?  Your eyes were wide open when you turned to look at him.

“How did you do that?”  You questioned, your jaw dropped.  “I practiced because I knew I was going to play a game with you.”  He cocked his head slightly to the right and held a delighted look.  You stared at him curiously.  “Why would you practice?  I mean, we aren’t playing for keeps.”  Your heart was racing; why?  He simply giggled, “Because I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of you.”  

A million questions raced to your head at once.  “Oh really?”  You were unsure as to what to say.  “Well, I didn’t want to look like a fool to you.  Then you might think badly of me.”  He continued giggling.  In the corner of the room you saw the two idiots (Nekomaru and Kazuichi), sneaking around.  Kazuichi was about to give you the signal to attack.  

“And what if I did think badly of you?”  You inquired, ignoring Kazuichi’s signs.  His smile then began to fade away like a melting ice cream cone.  “Then, I’d be rather upset.”  He scratched the back of his head and gave you a sad smile.  It was almost as if he meant it.  No, he really did mean it!  “I kind of admire you.  But I know someone as lowly as me could never compete with a hope like you,” he laughed awkwardly and closed his eyes to keep himself from crying.  “Nagito…Kun…” This was the first time you called him Kun, called him something familiar.  “You admire me?”  You asked in disbelief, for no one had ever said such a kind thing to you.  

Kazuichi urgently made his signal again, this time over exaggerating the movements, almost falling over.  “Hey, Nagito-Kun.  Let’s go to the beach.”  You suggested, gently extending your arm and placing his hand in yours.  He looked down and you, squeezed your hand as if he were accepting your offer, and gave you another one of his smiles.  It wasn’t a disgusting, revolting, sickening smile; it was a bright loving cute smile and, for some reason, you couldn’t help but smile back.  “You aren’t low Nagito-Kun.  We each have our own special talents and skills.  You aren’t beneath me; we’re equal.”  He looked as if he were about to break out into tears, for he was so happy.

Kazuichi looked as if he were about to scream in frustration while Nekomaru was almost in tears at the touching scene.  You and Nagito walked, hand in hand, out the door toward the setting sun eventually vanishing from the sight.  In the shimmering sunset,the silhouette of the two of you could be seen locking lips.  Then, the sun disappeared into the sea.
Komaeda NagitoxReader:Danganronpa 2) Darts
So many people liked the first one (I don't know why, it was terrible.) that I decided to make another less depressing one.  This one was rather fun but I really don't like how it was written.  So, anyways, I hope (Ha, hope) you enjoy.  This is for:



“So you’re telling me that he actually threw a vending machine at you.”  You raised your eyebrows in doubt, a smirk pasted on your face, a chuckle escaping your mouth.  He had to be telling you a joke; no one could pick up a vending machine that easily and chuck it like a football.  There was simply no way.  “It’s true, don’t you believe me (Y/N)-Chan?”  He feigned a hurt over dramatic look then put on his signature smirk and twirled around in his recliner rolling chair laughing.  

 Izaya wasn’t exactly your favorite person in the world, (for you owed him an extravagant amount of money for the information he provided you) yet you always spent your free time around him; you could not fathom a reason as to why.  Perhaps it was his wild and outrageous stories.  Maybe it was because of the kindness he was showed to you.  Whatever it was, you just kept coming back to see him.

“Isn’t it about time you go back to work, Mrs. Detective?” He snickered, his head resting on his hands like a dreaming school girl, “You have to earn the money you owe me one way or another.  Unless…”  He trailed off leaving the rest to your imagination, forcing you to ask.  “Unless what?”  You sneered as leaned close to his face, yet subconsciously you were shaking nervously; you couldn’t let him sense your fear, he would only use that against you.

He put on an innocent smile and came in closer to your face than expected.  You could practically feel him breathing down your neck, almost as if he were some kind of cold blooded demon, sending chills down your spine.  His right hand moved toward your face to push a lock of your hair behind your ear, yet he never once broke eye contact to do so.  “Work for me,” his icy cold breath tickled your ear like a snowy breeze as he spoke those three words.

You froze; work for Izaya?  That would practically be suicide with the amount of enemies he made on a daily basis.  “Speechless?”  He inquired as he leaned all the way back in his chair, resting his feet upon his desk.  “I never imagined you as the type who would be at a loss for words.”  You shook yourself out of your daze and began to laugh anxiously, “W-Why ever would I work for you Izaya-Kun?”  You tried to keep the uneasiness out of your voice, yet that effort was futile.  “You know why.”  He was keeping information from you again.  “Do I have to pay you for that information?”  You questioned as you stood up to leave, gathering up your things; he was right, you did have to get back to work.  “No, I want you to think on that.”  You waved to him as you walked out the door, saying nothing but a simple goodbye.

You sighed as you exited the building; I know why?  You thought to yourself.  No it’s one of Izaya’s tricks again.  You rolled your eyes at your own foolishness.  How could you believe him?  How could you be so unbelievably stupid?  You laughed it off and continued about your day.

On your way home you stopped at a local café, nothing out of the ordinary.  That was, until you saw a crowd gathered around one particular area at the end of the street, the same office Izaya work in.  “Who has he pissed off this time?”  You asked yourself bemused, and made your way over to the crowd.  

The crowd screamed and scattered just before you could reach it, yet you couldn’t understand why.  That wasn’t until you saw people pointing at you and screaming.  You looked up, there, hovering right above you was a large bulky rectangular object.  It was a vending machine and it was going to crush you.  You couldn’t even scream or move, you were petrified.  It seemed timed moved in slow motion.  

The machine was just inches away from your face.  This was the end, you squeezed your eyes shut; you saw your very life flashing before your eyes, and, strangely, most of it was memories of Izaya.  Of the two of you laughing or him sharing one of his stories.  You felt yourself blush.  That was when two hands roughly wrapped around your waist and yanked you away causing you to crash into something hard; it felt like a lamp post or bicycle rack.  

“Hey (Y/N)-Chan?  Are you alright?”  Came a slightly amused, yet mostly concerned voice.  “I-Izaya-Kun?”  You inquired as you rubbed the back of your pounding head.  You opened your eyes to see Izaya, the demon with dark orbs for eyes, right in your face.  “What just happened?”  You were terrified; you almost died.  “Someone threw a vending machine at me.”  

He smiled as if nothing had happened and picked you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style.  “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Mrs. Detective.”  Was he being sincere or sarcastic; you couldn’t tell.  He then locked eye contact with you, “You know (Y/N)-Chan, I love people, but…” He trailed off, snickering, again, leaving the rest to your imagination.  “Izaya-Kun!”  You were in no mood to play games.  “I love people but, out of all the people in the world…”  He moved a strand of hair from your face and whispered in your ear, “I love you the most.”
(Izaya Orihara x Reader. Durar) A Person Like You

I had a difficult time writing about him for a few reasons: One being, I really don't care for him, as in, he isn't my favorite character.  Two, I had a hard time imagining what he would do if he did, in fact, fall in love.  Three, I don't really know much about him for I have only watched the first series.  Nonetheless, please enjoy.
So I recently just got points for my very first commission (yay me) and I received 10 points.  So now what.  It says it's in debit, I'm really confused, I just want to the points to donate to a Deviant.  What did I just do?  I'm technology stupid, I'm sorry.
So I recently just got points for my very first commission (yay me) and I received 10 points.  So now what.  It says it's in debit, I'm really confused, I just want to the points to donate to a Deviant.  What did I just do?  I'm technology stupid, I'm sorry.
Erwin was difficult to read.  Always so different each time you saw him.  First he’s ready to sacrifice anything to reach his goal, the next he’s loathing himself for the sacrifices that he’s made; and this made it so difficult for you to watch.  To watch someone you cared so deeply for suffer caused your heart to break.  He was such a kind spirit, a genuinely good person.  He just chose the wrong profession.  Being a commander in the Survey Corps took: strength, loyalty, sacrifice, diligence, intelligence, and heart.  But there was one thing that Erwin had that prevented him from doing his job properly; compassion.  Erwin’s heroic flaw was his overabundance of understanding.  He was far from heartless like he should have been.  Instead of being able to sacrifice his comrades, he treated them as equals, more like friends.  

So how did this seemingly unbreakable man cope with his depression with the loss of his fellow brothers in arms?  With knowing he was solely responsible?  He didn’t.  He hid his emotions; buried them deep inside, secluded himself.  This meant making extra precautions to keep himself isolated.  This meant: only joining his comrades in planning battle strategies and keeping himself single.  

Him keeping himself single wouldn’t have bothered you so much, that is, if you didn’t care for him so deeply.  You wanted to be there for him; to be able to comfort him when he was in a state of depression.  But, how could you do so if he wished to remain so distant?

Another battle.  Another day of counting the dead.  That was Erwin’s job, but you always preferred to go with him.  The city was filled with the corpses of civilians and corps members.  The smell of rotting bodies filled the air and mixed with the soot of fires.  The rubble had crushed several trees, about half the buildings, and at least a dozen people causing their internal organs to leak out their mouths and heads.  A crimson color painted the ground and made it difficult to walk.  Any normal person would have gotten sick at this gruesome site.  This wasn’t anything unusual for you or Erwin.  The two of you knew too well the destructive power of the titans.

“I need a body count in this district,” Erwin spoke through the medical mask that he wore to protect himself from diseases the dead might carry.  He voice and face were void off all emotion.  “I’ll take this side of the street sir,” you addressed him and walked away, stepping over the lower half of a poor woman that had fallen into a titan’s mouth.  You looked back at him as he looked over the dead bodies.  It seemed that he would break down at any moment; he didn’t.  You waited and waited, he just stood there.  But that wasn’t anything strange. You waited for a moment more than usual.  Why; you couldn’t fathom.  After attending the body count expeditions so many times you were used to watching him.  But this time something caused you to stare at him longer.  

The setting sun illuminated a small sparkle the slide down his cheek from his ocean eyes.  The glimmer almost blinded you; how could something so beautiful make you want to bawl?  He was crying; no, perhaps that was just a figment of your imagination.  Yes, that’s what it was; it couldn’t have been anything else.  But, just as you about to turn away, another shimmering sparkle ran down his face; then more and more.  He was crying, tears were streaming from his eyes.

“Erwin!”  You called out in concern, causing him to jump back and wipe his face hastily.  Of course he would do that, you thought, mentally scolding yourself, you probably embarrassed him.  “Wh-What is it (Y/N)?”  He attempted to hide his face by looking at the blood spattered ground.  “Um,” you froze; what were you supposed to say after seeing your courageous seemingly unbreakable leader cry?  The answer, was nothing.  Don’t say anything, at all.  You mental scolded yourself again.  “Well, what is it?”  By this time Erwin had regained his calm composure, “Well, (Y/N)?  Is there an emergency I should know about?”  

You had two options at the time.  One: Ignore what was happening; pretend you saw nothing at all.  Two: Run into his arms and hold him tight, let him cry on your shoulder for a while, then, when the moment was right, passionately stroke his cheek until he leans down and plants a soft tender kiss upon your mouth and…What are you thinking?  You shook the delirious thought out of your head.  “What is it (Y/N)?”  He sounded agitated.  Hurry think of an answer that won’t sound stupid.  

“Are you crying?”  What did you just say; after all the mental preparation to not say something along those lines you go and say it!  Unbelievable!  “Excuse me?”  He cocked his head and raised one of his busy blonde eyebrows.  Maybe he didn’t hear you; there was time to fix your mistake.  “H-How are you feeling?”  You asked, mentally applauding yourself for your cunning by smiling brightly.  

He turned away, ashamed of his weakness.  “Yes, I was crying.”  He looked back at you causing your heart to break.  He held his tears in the best he could; yet his efforts were futile as long streams of water ran down his pale face. One hand was clenched into a fist as he tried to restrain himself; the other hand was running frantically and anxiously through his silky blonde hair.  “I cry because I’m weak.”  He admitted.

After that you blanked; you really didn’t know what came over yourself.  The next thing you knew you were in his arms sobbing, repeated, “I’m sorry,” and “I’m here,” over and over.  That was, until you heard a chuckle and felt a pair of well-toned arms wrap around your frame.  “You’re crying over me?”  He looked you straight in the eyes, a small smile rested upon his face.  “Y-You always suffer alone.  This time I’m going to suffer for you.”  You said through sobs.

He lifted your face with his index finger and chuckled again, his remaining free hand clutched yours with kindness, “Thank you, (Y/N).”
(Erwin x Reader) Thank You
My very first real commission  .  I sincerely hope you enjoy this; it's a bit different from what I usually write.  Erwin is a different type of character, I didn't want to make him seem like an OC.  Regardless, I hope it is enjoyed.
I can't contain myself; I have to know.  Does anyone know when the new anime will be coming out?  I know it's sometime this year.  I'm dying to know.  It doesn't even have to be the exact date, just the month will do.  Please help.  Thank you. 
I went to AX this year and happened to go to the Todd Haberkorn Voice panel, then this happened.  For those of you who don't know who he is, he plays: Death the Kid from Soul Eater, Italy from Hetalia, and so many more.  You must watch this.

Okay, I really hate to say this; but I have a terrible case of writers block and I feel like a failure.  I'm really trying my very best; these things just can't be helped sometimes.  I'm starting to hate my work and am even embarrassed just to look at it.  I'm sorry, I really am trying.  I'm just frustrated.
Ah, um, hello.  I want to raise a few points to help other Deviants out.  I swear that's where all the points go.  I write male reader inserts (I know it's a little lame).  But there are quite good.  So I am offering pay what you want.  Lets call this a charity fundraiser thing.  I will write about any anime from this list the I have watched or are currently watching.  

(But please don't make me write a Corpse Part fan fic.  You have no idea how badly that would end up)ů
Ah, um, hello.  I want to raise a few points to help other Deviants out.  I swear that's where all the points go.  I write male reader inserts (I know it's a little lame).  But there are quite good.  I will write about any anime from this list the I have watched or are currently watching.  

(But please don't make me write a Corpse Part fan fic.  You have no idea how badly that would end up)…
I know this is rather lame and idiotic (I can't help myself, I just love writing them.) but I write reader inserts.  I see all these other reader inserts out there with tons of favs and comments, some of them (and I don't mean to be rude) have very poor syntax and grammar.  Yet, they still gain a large group of followers.  I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, and I certainly don't want to start a fight; but I must ask: How do I get my work out there?  I've joined groups, but that's about all I can think of. 
I know this is rather lame and idiotic (I can't help myself, I just love writing them.) but I write reader inserts.  I see all these other reader inserts out there with tons of favs and comments, some of them (and I don't mean to be rude) have very poor syntax and grammar.  Yet, they still gain a large group of followers.  I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, and I certainly don't want to start a fight; but I must ask: How do I get my work out there?  I've joined groups, but that's about all I can think of. 
“Rain, rain, go away; come again some other day.”  He sang in a monotone voice.  His wide dark rimmed eyes glued to the window where little droplets of water came rushing down.  He sat upon a chair, perched like a bird; his arms wrapped around his legs.  “Rain, rain, go away; come against some other day.”  He repeated as he bit into a small milk chocolate candy bar, nibbling on it like a rat.  “Rain, rain…”  He trailed off.

The room was pitch black; the only light was emitted from a dull cellphone glow that was barely visible.  The cell phone was not his, rather it was a girls; the pink cell phone cover with the small bunny charm made it obvious it wasn’t his.  He couldn’t see the illumination, or, he was ignoring it.  Either way, it didn’t bother him, possible because he was not holding the cell phone.

His attention then turned away from the window and to a pile of messy files in large envelopes that sat upon a desk.  He then picked one up using only his thumb and pointer finger and stared deeply into it as if he were staring deep into the soul.  He then read the contents of one of the files aloud, skipping over the most important information; “Age…Cause of death…Crime…”  Then he paused after reading a single word, Kira.  “Kira, Kira, go away…”  He trailed off again; this time it took him a long time to speak again.  

“Kira?”  He began to talk to his files as if they were a living being.  “You could talk to me; you know?”  You came from where you were watching in the shadows, careful not to trip on any of his candy wrappers or chip bags that would cause a disturbance in the peaceful silence.  You used your cell phone to light your way. “That’s what I’m here for.”  “Wrong,” he stated plainly, not bothering to look at you, “You’re here to present useful information and to help on the Kira case.”  

He had finished his chocolate bar then looked at is hands as if he were in shock.  You could only sigh in irritation, he always avoided you.  “You know, social interaction makes you smarter,” you smiled innocently, “A study showed that people who interact with others score 70% higher on IQ tests?”  “And 75% of studies are made up on the spot,” he still wouldn’t look at you; he started munching on a box of chocolate Pocky.  “Besides, I have you to talk to.”  “But you just said that I wasn’t here to talk to you!”  You had lost your calm demeanor in just seconds.  

He had a way of doing that to you; causing you to lose your senses and fall into annoyance and rage.  Why he did this was a mystery to you.  You only knew that he simply loved to aggravate you.  Ever since you volunteered to take on the Kira case he had been like that.

The day you two meet was like an intellectual storm of smart rude remarks being made back and forth (L won.  Shortly after you two competed in a competition of: who can eat the most junk food leaving you sick (L won again).  Later it was a battle of wits with chess when the two of you were supposed to be working (you lost).  The two of you were either too different or too alike; either way you two certainly hit it off (perhaps not in the best way).  Alas, you two had formed a competitive relationship.

“You really know how to frustrate me, don’t you?”  You shook your head, a small smile rested upon your face.  You sat down next to him, crossing your legs in a professional fashion.  “Yes and I enjoy it.”  He turned to you, his saggy eyes wide open, piercing into yours.  A few seconds later, without breaking eye contact, he shoved the box of Pocky in your face as if he were offering you some.  You then reached into the box and pulled out half a stick (the part that was missing the chocolate).  

“Light told me I should play the Pocky game with you.”  He stated plainly, fiddling with the half empty box.  You raised your eyebrows and held back laughter; you decided to humor him.  “Oh really?”  You inquired sarcastically, letting out small fragments of laughter.  “Yes, really.”  He replied as if he didn’t realize you were being sarcastic, he then stuck a piece of Pocky in his mouth like a rabbit eating a carrot, “I’ll even let you have the chocolate side.”  He spoke with cation as to not break the biscuit in his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.  “The one who eats more wins.”

You lost it, you couldn’t contain your laughter; was this really how he thought the game was played?  “What are you laughing at?”  The curiosity echoed in his voice.  Did he really not know?  You laughed even more.  You held your sides for you were laughing too hard.  “Why are you laughing?”  He questioned again, the piece of Pocky still in his mouth; he almost looked like a confused child.

You finally were able to stop laughing, but he wasn’t laughing; in fact, he seemed upset.  He held his head down and inspected the half-gone box of Pocky.  “W-What’s wrong L?”  You were dead serious.  “Why were you laughing?  Isn’t that how the game is played?”  He asked as if he would start crying any moment.  Think fast.  Your heart was racing; you didn’t want to tell him a lie, yet you didn’t want to hurt his feelings.  “Um, yeah it is.”  You scratched the back of your head and smile innocently; it was obvious you were faking it, yet he didn’t seem to pick up on it.

He then stuck a piece of Pocky in his mouth and looked down at you with curious eyes, awaiting for you to take the other end.  You sighed, shut your eyes and started nibbling at the end.  The next thing you knew you felt the biscuit being pulled from your mouth, hands running through your hair, and your lips smashed onto someone else’s.  

When you pulled away your eyes meet with dark owl like eyes.  “Did I win this game too?”  He put his thumb to his lips and began chewing on his nail.  “L?  W-What was that for?”  You were utterly baffled.  “I won, didn’t I?”  He smiled as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, his face snuggled into your hair ever so gently.  “You sure won.”  You smiled and blushed bashfully.  “That makes the score seven to nothing.”  He retorted as he held you ever tighter.  “Perhaps this is the human emotion known as love.”  He thought aloud as he released you from his arms and took hold of your shoulders.  “It must be.”
Let's Play a Game (L x Reader)
I actually enjoy this piece, it isn't wonderful, but it isn't terrible.  Please enjoy and leave comments if you like it.
Merry Merry Christmas to all my lovely friends.  Or, if you don't celebrate Christmas; happy holidays.
Hello.  I am currently on the search for a group that hosts fan fiction contests (preferable contests with prizes).  I've been searching all over to find a group but simply cannot find one.  Could somebody please let me know if they know of or belong to one?  I'd like to showcase my writing a bit more.

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“He’s dead,” said Hajime solemnly; yet he seemed to be relieved, like a weight was lifted on his shoulders.  Akane acted as if she were receiving food; in other words, delighted in the sense that danger was gone.  Sonia was slightly perturbed, but not as when Gundham was killed.  Kazuichi wasn’t terrified at the sight of a dead body for once, he almost seemed uplifted looking at Komaeda’s dead body.  Chiaki, seemed as calm as ever.  Everyone else was dead.

You didn’t care about anyone else; you only cared about Komaeda.  He was dead and there was nothing you could do about it.  You knew so, yet you continued to scream like a child throwing a temper tantrum.  “What the hell Komaeda?”  You kept repeating, your anguished wails piercing everyone’s ears.  “Who killed you?”  Tears fell from your eyes like waterfalls.  You shook his lifeless body as if he would answer, bright florescent pink blood splattering all over your clothing and skin.

He lay there, arms and legs tied tightly to four different ropes sprawling in different directions.  His right hand was pierced by a dull kitchen knife.  An old Victorian looking spear with an extension cord tied to it was used to impale him right in the stomach; turning his clean white shirt a bright pink.  Worst of all, his mouth was tapped shut and his eyes were open and bloodshot as if he were screaming for help with his last breath.  It looked as if some child went wild with pink paint.  The room smelled of iron and one could just taste it in the air.  His long wavy white hair was dripping with a pink substance and his thin lanky body was drenched it in.  A gruesome sight, but that wasn’t what caused you to shriek.  

“You promised,” you wailing had turned to into high pitch screaming, “You promised you wouldn’t leave me here!”  You raised your hand and continuously slapped the corps of the one you were madly in love with.  “Why did you lie?”  You began to cry so hard that you couldn’t control your coughing.  You burrowed your head into his chest, spreading the blood to your cheeks, hoping to hear a slight sound of a heartbeat; the only thing you heard was your screaming.  

The others could do nothing but watch as the bite at their lower lips and turned away from the emotionally damaging scene.  It wasn’t until you had begun cradling his body that they decided to pry you away.  “Come on (y/n)!”  Commanded Kazuichi as he pulled on your arm.  “No!  Go die you pieces of shit,” you demanded as your shoved Kazuichi to the ground.  “(Y/N)?”  Hajime put his hand on your shoulder, causing you to fight back, clenching your fist and driving it straight into his face.  He tumbled back.

“Don’t you dare speak to me!”  Your fingernails were digging into the ground, your whole frame was trembling, your breathing rate decreased drastically as you were panting, gasping for air through your tears.  Despite all this, you managed to stand up yet your legs would give out on you at any second.  “Which one of you sadistic bastards killed him?”  You questioned through your clenched teeth a bit too quietly for the others to hear.  Silence.  “Which one of you was it?”  You then let out a crackling scream as you fell to your knees.

You stared at the others as if you were a tiger about to pounce on its prey.  “Which one of you was it?”  You asked once more, this time as if you were calm and collected which you clearly weren’t for your eyebrows were twitching.  Your eyes then rested upon Kazuichi.  “Could it be you, Kazuichi?”  You cocked your head to the right as you pulled the knife out of Komaeda’s right hand causing a volcano of blood to erupt for just a second then die down, yet your eyes never left Kazuichi’s.  “You always said we’d be better off without him.”  You menacingly stroked the knife with the tip of your finger.  Your eyes then fell upon Akane who did her best to avoid your gaze.  “What about you Akane?”  A large smirk grew upon your face, “You didn’t like him either, right?”  You stood up, your legs still shaking as if there was an earthquake.  

“Which one of you f**kers did it?”  You howled and fell back down to the cold unforgiving floor that was covered with think pink blood.  You then looked at Hajime.  Yes, it had to be him.  There was no doubt about it.  Hajime was the murderer.  You knew all too well that Komaeda admired, almost worshipped Hajime; and Hajime took advantage of that.  “Hajime you… It was all you!”  You accused, pointing your finger straight at him, your face void of all emotion.  “I’ll…”  You paused, your hand grasping the knife tightly, any tighter you would have broken the handle.

“I’ll kill you!”  You screamed, hopping to your feet and charging straight at him with the knife.  He only stood there, his hands held up in defense and cowering as if he was too frightened to move.  Faster.  Faster.  Faster.  You ran as fast as your feet could take you.  You were inches away from stabbing Hajime, you could practically taste his blood on your lips.  You were then slammed into the wall; Akane had pushed.  

“It isn’t fair,” you began to bawl, crawling on your hands and knees on the cold unforgiving floor, “He promised he’d stay.  He promised we’d get out of here, together.”  “It isn’t fair,” you repeated, “It should have been me.”  You pounded at the ground.  “It isn’t fair,” you choked through your tears.  Those tears only served as a memory; the memory of the day you two first met.  A day shimmering with hope only to be drenched with despair as soon as the game began.  Hope was now gone.

You stared at the wall motionless as you were lost in thought.  Hope?  What was hope?  You couldn’t remember; Komaeda was hope.  Now, you were left in despair.  Pure despair and… why did it feel so familiar?  Like you’d felt this way before.  And, just like that, your memories that had been whipped away reappeared.  The events that happened when you and the others were all students at Hope’s Peak Academy; events of when everyone was a remnant of despair.  

Silence.  More silence.  Even more silence.  Then you began to laugh; it was a very innocent childlike laughter.  The reason you were laughing was anything but innocent.  You felt the despair coursing through your blood.  More, you wanted more.  “Give me the despair!”  You said through your insane laughter.  “I remember now, I want it back.”  You looked like a child who was receiving a free balloon.

The others could only watch in confusion and fear.  Kazuichi had started biting at his nails, Akane’s eyes were so large they could pop out of her head, Sonia began to scream, Hajime was in complete and utter shock, and even Chiaki was stunned.  “Wait, what does that mean?”  Hajime tried to get a word in through your laughter, alas it was to no avail, you didn’t answer for you were laughing far too loud.  

“Guess what everyone,” you stood up wobbling, a smile pasted on your face, “I finally have my memories back.”  You began to jump up and down in excitement whilst the others eagerly awaited an answer.  “What are the memories?” Demanded Fuyuhiko urgently.  You could only giggle.  “What would be the fun in telling you?”  You spun the knife around in your hand.

“Now, it’s time I go join my beloved,” you innocently stated.  The other’s (excluding Hajime) had yet to figure out what that meant.  “No, don’t do it (y/n),” begged Hajime, holding his hand out intending for you to grab it.  “Too late,” you extended the words and laughed as you plunged the knife into your chest.  Your shirt began turning florescent pink, soaking up the blood.  You dropped to your knees then weakly stroked Komaeda’s lifeless cheek.  “See you on the other side.”  Blood erupted out of your mouth, spaying the others, splattering on their skin and cloths.  

The others fell into a mad panic: Sonia and Kazuichi screamed at the top of their lungs, Akane and Chiaki looked around as if they expected someone to do something, Fuyuhiko began to curse and yell at your now motionless body, Hajime was only able to grind his teeth together and look away.  You then crawled, the knife still poking out of your chest, and lay your head upon Komaeda’s stomach.

Things started turning darker and darker, your eyes slowly fluttered open and shut, your breathing began to slow.  “I’ll see you soon Komaeda.”  Your eyes then closed for the last time.
Komaeda NagitoxReader: Danganronpa 2) See You Soon
I'm a little disappointed in myself.  The quality of my work has been slowly declining.  I tried to write an angst (This was my first time) and I think I failed.  This is for a contest.  The theme is 
A strong feeling for the one you love, even if they are no longer present.


 I don't know how to computer very well, so I hope you get tagged in this.  This is my first entry of two.
It was snowing; hard, cold, wet, uncomfortable snow.  You could see your breath in the chilly crisp air.  The sky was a gloomy gray, it almost looked as if there would be a snow storm.  The houses were decorated with tacky snowmen made out of bright lights and plastic reindeer with red glowing noses.  There were light up penguins, poorly made polar bears and phony presents a plenty.  Strings of lights and icicles dangled from the rooftops of houses.

What a magical sight; is what most people would say.  You, however, had another opinion.  “I hate Christmas,” you muttered, a wisp of air forming in the sky.  You shivered and hugged yourself as you stared blankly at the lights.  “I hate Christmas,” you spoke just a bit louder than before, for you knew no one would hear you.  While you watched happy families opening gifts and hugging each other from the windows you could only look in disgust and remember why exactly you hated Christmas.

Wasn’t Christmas supposed to be a magical time?  Potentially, it could have been; if it weren’t for your lack of family.  You were a small country that belonged to no one.  Ever since you were born you had celebrated Christmas alone.  No gifts, no hugs, no kissing under the mistletoe; nothing.  Of course this wasn’t the way you wished it to be; you longed for the hug and a kiss from a loved one and (even it was small) a gift to be excited about causing you to get no sleep the night prior.  A childish dream; nonetheless, you hoped it would come true.  

“Just for once.  Let me have Christmas,” you looked up to the sky, begging for some sort of miracle as a single tear ran down your cheek.  Just when you thought all hope was lost your phone rang, letting out a symphony of mellow music.

“Hello?”  You inquired, trying to hide the fact that you were crying.  “Hey, hey (y/n), come over to my house okay?”  A spunky voice replied, “Hurry up or you’ll miss the party!”  You hesitated; sure, you wanted to spend Christmas with someone.  But you didn’t want to intrude on someone else’s Christmas to fulfill your own desires.  “Hello?  (Y/N)?”  The voice questioned.  No, don’t hesitate; you thought as you shook yourself out of your daze.  “I-I’d love to, Italy” you quickly replied.  “Yay!  Come over as soon as you can, okay belle?”  The line then went dead.

“What have I gotten myself into,” you thought aloud for you had never gone to a Christmas party much less celebrated Christmas.  What were you supposed to do?  Were you supposed to bring something?  Were you suppose to wear something special?  These questions made your head spin.  “Oh, what do I do?”

“Well,” you looked up at the snowing sky and sighed, watching the wisp of air disappear, “There’s no time like the present to make a fool of yourself.  You then swallowed your pride and made your way to Italy’s house.

As you approached the house you began to realize something strange; it was quiet, too quiet.  Isn’t it normally noisy at parties?  You expected to hear France and England bickering, America’s obnoxious laughter, Poland’s loud bragging, the Baltics’ cowering, or Russia’s ominous presence.  It was completely silent.  It was almost eerie.  You curiously and cautiously knocked on the door.  “Italy, it’s me,” you called out nervously, fiddling with your fingers.

  Within seconds the door flew open, “Belle!”  Italy threw his arms around you, swinging you around, and then pulling you into the house.  He was so ecstatic almost as if no one else came to his party.  And that’s because no one had.  The sight baffled and quite frankly disturbed you.

“U-Um Italy?” You asked as he celebrated the arrival of a guest by gathering food and shoving it in your face.  “Yeah belle?”  You could tell something was off about him and it was clear as day.  “Where is everyone; I thought this was a party?”  You asked innocently.  Alas, no matter how innocent your question was, he began to cry.  

You weren’t sure what to do; why ever was he crying?  You looked around at the table full of delicious smelling pastas and other foods, the Christmas tree that was completely bare with ordainments scattered on the floor, and a large pile of unopened gifts.  Then it hit you; no one had come to his party but you. The very thought of him being alone made your heart shatter and, something else.  You felt so similar, you understood his pain.  With no other options left you brought him into a tight hug and whispered comforting statements such as: “Everything is going to be alright,” and, “I’m here for you.”  This process repeated for about another twenty minutes until Italy spoke up.

“It isn’t fair,” he cried, “Why am I so alone?”  He hugged you tighter, “I’m lonely,” he wiped his tears on your scarf.  “Why am I alone on Christmas?”  He asked through his tears.  He hugged you even tighter and burrowed his head in your hair.  You frowned and saw tears forming in your own eyes; no one should ever be alone on Christmas.

“I’ll be here Italy, and I won’t leave,” you snuggled into his chest, “Because no one should be alone on Christmas.  Neither of us.”  He looked up at you, his eyes glittering, his lips forming into a smile, his hand moving gently toward your cheek and laying it to rest there.  “I never knew Christmas was so lonely for you too.”

He stroked your cheek as he moved closer to your face causing you to turn bright red and your heart to beat rapidly, you could almost taste his lips.  “I’m never going to let you spend Christmas alone again.”  A wide smile grew upon your face and your hands intertwined with his.  This was the start of a new Christmas, no, more like a whole new world.
(Italy x Reader) A Not So Lonely Christmas
I am deeply disappointed in myself.  I thought this would turn out better.  Oh well, here it is.  This is for a Christmas writing contest.
As most of you know the holidays are just right around the corner.  I'll be trying to do as many Christmas reader inserts as I can.  What would you like to see out of me?


Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States

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Raptors0verlord Featured By Owner 4 days ago
cool (many) stuff you have, you seems like a hardworking one , have a Llama
sedonaandlilly Featured By Owner 3 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
That's so sweet of you. Thank you.
Raptors0verlord Featured By Owner 3 days ago
ParoxysmalDespair Featured By Owner Jan 24, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the Llama :happybounce:
sedonaandlilly Featured By Owner Jan 24, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Of course.  Thank you for the llama in return and for your inspiring advice.  Thanks to that I have gotten three pieces out just this week.
ParoxysmalDespair Featured By Owner Jan 24, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
I´m so glad I could help you:) And as you said that, I guess I´ve something to read;) see ya:)
Kara-Kleos-RC Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2016  Student Digital Artist
thank you for the watch dear :hug: 
sedonaandlilly Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
I adore your art.  I absolute cannot wait to see more.
Kara-Kleos-RC Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2016  Student Digital Artist
:hug: Thank you, That means a lot to me to have your support :heart: 
xXChocoMelkGirlXx Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Hello hi yes welcome to :iconfanfictionforanime: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Thanks a bunch for showing interest in our group, and I hope you enjoy your time as a member! ^u^ If you have any questions or complaints, feel free to note me or any of the current admins.

Thanks again, and have a great day!
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