flowers of hope

NAGITO KOMAEDA 🌸 ISOLA RADIALE

[flowersofhope]

✽ NAGITO KOMAEDA of Dangan Ronpa

the man, the myth, the discourse topic

you know those days where things just Keep Happening? yeah, that’s his entire life

might accept the lint in your pockets if you told him it symbolised hope (but only might)

normal guy who wants to be your friend

[tabbi]

middle school sucks

[flowersofhope]

hi there! sorry for the low activity - i’m graduating in a month and have to channel most of my energy into art right now for the sake of keeping on top of things ^^;

since i’m very tired i’m probably going to allow shorter and easier threads to take priority for a while, and might only get to longer threads on the weekends... thank you for understanding and i hope you’re all well! :D

[flowersofhope]

lordofthewholewood​:​

“Come forward, child. Tell this old lion what’s on your mind. You seemed troubled.”

He could be misjudging the young man, but it seems that something is off with his aura. Aslan hopes that he could be of some help if so.

He's so absorbed in thought, walking along the beach (for this has become a favourite pastime, try as he might to stay away), that he doesn’t even notice the lion until it calls out to him. Something about the low cadence of its voice, deep and full like spring water, stops him in his tracks completely, and for a moment all he can do is stare. The lion is huge. With wise, piercing eyes and sunlight shining through its golden mane, it looks almost religious - something woven in a tapestry, a statue pulled from a temple, a gold-leafed page pulled out of an old children’s book. The thought that he might have died crashes over him all at once, but its strange and disconnected, like being hit by a wave while already underwater.

“Huh - are you talking to me?”

[flowersofhope]

neoworld​:

“Komaeda!? I didn’t think you checked your own comments - I mean, what I was trying to say was…your shoes are mentally ill! Wait, that’s not right!”

“...”

“Well, anyway. My shoes aside, I’m surprised to hear you speaking so confidently about mental health. You’ve really made progress!”

[neoworld]

“Now I know I don’t really get the right to criticize my public image, but this is kinda… I mean… I’ve got more going for me than mochi, y’know?”

[flowersofhope]

“...................” (Hinata-kun... considering what they could have written, I think this is actually... well, I’ll just let it be.)

[flowersofhope]

@neoworld​ replied to a post:

"evil-doer" girl with those shoes on? i'll say

“You know, it’s pretty bold for you of all people to harass me on my own posts. But I suppose you’re nothing if not bold, right, Hinata-kun?”

[flowersofhope]

“Honestly... this type of wishy-washy ending is just...”

[flowersofhope]

dynadubwool​:

‘Are you alright?’ Felt looks up towards the unfamiliar voice with trepidation. Is he alright? Well, he was when he and his Trainer were out walking on the beach, but after it started pouring out of nowhere and they ran in different directions to get out of the rain…

“Beh!” Felt calls, approaching the stranger with a frown. (Of course I’m not alright! I lost my Trainer!) Sure, it could always be worse: they could both be in danger, or Hop could have no sense of direction like his older brother, but still! Felt knows the young Trainer is probably beside himself with worry right now.

A sniff to the ground below him. No dice. The water has washed away all traces of his partner. The Wooloo closes what’s left of the distance between them cautiously. He doesn’t trust this human - not yet - but he needs help. Besides, he can always roll away if things turn sour. Hop always praised him on his quick rolling.

A nod to where he thinks his friend ran off to. “Beh? Behhh…” (Can you help me find my Trainer? We got separated…)

Nagito inclines his head curiously. He doesn’t know exactly what it’s trying to tell him, but the creature’s vocalisations seem intelligent. 

“As I thought, you seem upset... did you lose something?” When he was a child, Nagito had once had a dog: a big, silly, fluffy old thing, all white fur and floppy ears and lolling tongue. Nagito had been rather more accident prone than even the most rambunctious child, and the way this little creature is behaving reminds him of how the dog - whose name, he realises with a dull and distant sorrow, he does not remember - would act whenever their young owner got lost, or stuck somewhere.  His eyes follow the direction that the strange animal just pointed in, and he squints slightly in an effort to see through the downpour. It’s impossible to make out anything but the vague shapes of buildings, the black tar sea, ghostlike ships out on the marina. He looks back, smiling brightly. “Well, at any rate, if you’re looking for something, why don’t we look together? Just lead the way, I’ll follow.” 

[flowersofhope]

thirdchance​:

Ayanami wasn’t sure if she enjoyed shared accommodations, thus far. Granted, her only experience previously was in her abandoned corner of NERV Headquarters among the dust and decay and the small farming settlement she had spent her last few months at with Shinji and Asuka… But that had been different. She wasn’t sure how, or in what way one could quantify the difference between then and now but that had felt…warm, in its way. 

There had been small children, animals, soft voices in the night - laughter and crying audible through the thin walls of poorly constructed buildings. That had been community, the summation of collective hope - a shared and frantic dream to survive until the last man fell. 

This place… Ayanami’s stony gaze had not left the floor in some time, she realized, having been visually picking through the individual fibres of the carpet for the past twenty minutes. This place feels very selfish. The walls too tall, the grass too green. There was a sort of excess in all manners that made Ayanami feel obscene and out of place alongside it.

She had heard someone else enter the common area only very distantly, blinking away thoughts of rice fields and weak animals sleeping under freight cars before shifting her gaze towards the kitchen. A familiar, enticing smell wafted from the coffee maker and Ayanami felt a stab of nostalgia that almost caused her physical pain; a reminder of twisted eyewear shattering effortlessly between her fingers.

“You’re awake.” She stated absently, not sure why her own words felt directed towards both of them. 

He had been cleaning when she walked in, and for a few moments her presence disorientated him: perhaps he had been expecting the sweet chime of a bell, a warm tropical breeze, the rustle of beaded curtains. Blinking down at the cloth in his hands, he felt all at once flooded by an awareness of his surroundings - kitchen tiles, humming appliances, an unfamiliar brand of surface cleaner stringing his hands. He blinked again, and the swimming images in his mind’s eye merged and were gone. He folded the cloth, carefully, and placed it neatly over the handle of one of the lower cabinets by the sink. Belatedly, he realised that the coffee was done brewing. The cheap dark roast gurgled menacingly in the pot, bubbling like some B-movie sludge monster, a prehistoric swamp. “So are you,” he said as he poured himself a cup. His housemate’s rude greeting was comfortingly familiar. Why waste time with small talk, anyway? He turned to face her, leaning with his back against the counter, mug cupped in both hands as if he were scared he might drop it.  The person in front of him looked quite young, though he could not guess her age - older than Monaka, thought the part of his brain that dreamed of red skies and carnage, while the part that dreamed of pink rabbits simultaneously thought: younger than me. Her eyes, deep red, gave her almost ethereal presence a certain abstract cruelty - impassive as a knife’s edge, cold metal. It was really kind of creepy. He thought that, were he to close his eyes, he might feel the gentle rocking of a ship at sea. “I made some coffee,” he said, smiling pleasantly, “I’m not great at making it, so it’s pretty substandard, but you’re welcome to a cup, if you want one.”

[neoworld]

✏️

drawing meme

[flowersofhope]

sarevanche​:

he hums, as though taking his time to seriously mull over what the man had said; and in the absence of words, the platform grows quiet aside from the sound of the wind, too high up to have the loud bustle of the city reach them here. the moment is peaceful, serene - until he shatters it with his voice, tone light-hearted.

“you don’t consider yourself to be the courageous type, then?” cerulean gaze steadily trained on the stranger’s face, he sits up in one fluid motion. 

now cross-legged, he props his chin up, smile more genuine due to the perceived absurdity of the other’s words. “but surely it takes some courage to be this high up, non? some people can’t bear to look down at even half this height - and here you are, not cowering in the slightest.” 

tapping his fingers against his cheek, vanitas glances towards the edge of the platform - so close, only a scant few steps away - again, “and as for me - hmm... i still haven’t decided yet.” 

“i think i’ll just leave it up to fate. maybe a strong gust of wind will blow me off, or i’ll get the sudden, uncontrollable urge to jump -” it certainly wouldn’t be the first (nor last) time he gave into his impulses without a second thought,

“whatever happens, it’s much more exciting to not know beforehand, don’t you think?” 

“You really think so?” There’s genuine puzzlement in his voice. The stranger’s word’s intrigue him, but they also irritate him, for reasons he doesn’t quite understand.

He turns fully now to face him, though he does not step away from the platform’s edge. He’s thinking of plane crashes, walks home from school in broad daylight, a hand with red nails attached to his wrist. None of these thoughts upset him: they come and go from his mind with a simplicity like flipping through pages in a book. What would be unpredictable, truly unpredictable? What, in its untouchable splendour, could break the monotony of predictably capricious fate? He imagines himself splattered on the ground below, flies picking over his remains like crows on carrion - and then imagines the stranger there, overcome by that sudden urge as though pushed. He sighs, disappointed, when neither scenario excites him.

“Rather than fate... you could say that you’re leaving it down to chance. But for me, that just isn’t very courageous at all, I’m afraid.”

[cherryrphub]

send me a ✏️ and my muse will draw a picture of your muse

alternatively, send ✏️+ a name for my muse to draw that character

[absolutedespair]

@flowersofhope​​​ ;drawing meme ( accepting! ) “ ✏️ + monokuma hehe ”

[tokivi-blog]

one layer drawing is still difficult

[sarevanche-deactivated20210912]

@flowersofhope​​

rage from recently transpired events in his world follow him like an unwanted stalker into this foreign city, but vanitas recognizes that he is powerless, unable to do anything about the source of his anger here - and so, gritting his teeth, he seeks out somewhere high up, somewhere far above the streets he can perch on to calm the white-hot fury within him.

it works, as a temporary respite - and when his pulse begins to slow and his breathing gradually evens out, he finds himself laying on his back to watch people leap off the platform, idly counting the seconds each person takes before making the jump.

it’s when the newest challenger - because this seems to be a challenge of some sort - takes longer than the norm that vanitas speaks up, wearing a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“ah, there’s no need to be shy. don’t let me stop you if you’re here to jump.” waving a hand in the air, he gestures to the edge, “i’m simply here to admire the view.” 

[flowersofhope]

Simple curiosity had drawn Nagito to the rooftops- though perhaps, as with car crashes and strangers with ill intentions, it’s more that fate has drawn the danger to him. Though he can surmise, from observation, that there is a pattern and some purpose to this task, he has yet to figure out what either might be. 

This worries him, yet it only serves to ignite his curiosity further. There is a simple thrill, after all, in games of chance, and if only he understood what exactly people were playing for, perhaps he would join them. He knows he wouldn’t die. From the ground, he’s already watched several others take the fall and land safely enough, cushioned by some invisible safety net. But the impulse to follow them is fleeting. Luck is unpredictable, and though he may be a fool, he is not so foolish as to risk injury without reason. 

Wind whips his hair into his face as he stares down at the ground. He has the sudden thought - shot through his head like a bullet - that this vertigo must be similar what the students of the Reserve Course had felt, before they plummeted to their deaths. An intense wave of nausea crashes over him, and is quickly gone. 

Huh? That’s strange. Since when did I...?

He is so preoccupied with fascination at this uncharacteristic emotion that he almost doesn’t register that someone is addressing him. His eyes are somewhat distant as he looks back at the speaker- a young, oddly-dressed man, with startlingly blue eyes. Nagito had noticed him earlier, but assumed he might be some sort of overseer for whatever ritual is taking place here. The casual way he addressed him just now makes him reconsider.

“I wasn’t going to jump,” he says, chuckling at the absurdity of it. “But, all these people... this must be some sort of test of courage, right? I don’t think I’m very well-suited to something like that.”

He blinks, his eyes becoming more focused again as he falls back into character. That’s right! That’s the type of person I am.

“Still, weren’t you going to try it? You don’t necessarily look like the ‘tough guy’ type, but you seem pretty confident...”

[flowersofhope]

❀ @dimittere liked for a starter! // starter call

Luck must not be shining on him today, because Nagito is very, very lost.

He’d set out for Cotes Fantasci early this morning, but though it is now nightfall he has yet to find the library he’s heard such enticing rumours of. The woods are beautiful, deep and luscious, but he has a feeling that some of its smaller inhabitants might be growing tired of his presence.  ”Ah-!” For what must be the third time this evening, Nagito finds himself landing face-first in the dirt, having tripped over a tree root he’s almost certain wasn’t there a few moments before. Somewhere up in the trees, the pixies explode into raucous, chittering laughter.  He sighs, not even bothering to stand up this time. Maybe I should have taken that talking fox’s offer after all, just to see what would happen. If only there were someone else around willing to talk to him- the giant butterflies don’t seem particularly conversational, and the mermaid he spotted in a stream earlier had startled and dipped out of view when he’d called out.

As if on cue, he suddenly hears something up ahead. Raising his head curiously to determine the source of the sound, he realises that he has fallen into a clearing, and that he is not alone.

“Wow! This is great- perhaps luck is on my side today!”