Non creatives in fandoms lowkey have been pissing me off lately cause like why are they so rude about fanart and stuff they don't like ???? Like what do YOU contribute??? 😭😭😭😭😭😭
The pitter-patter of rain on Iwatodai dorm's second floor windows rang through its solemn corridor, filling an unnatural silence.
Tatsumi Port Island and the surrounding cities rarely experienced wet weather, and despite his clouded state of mind, the irony of its timing wasn't lost on Junpei, who hadn't turned the lights of his suite on since the incident.
He'd barely left his bed too, for the past two days were spent buried under an ivory duvet, and his head rested next to a matching ivory tear-crusted pillow.
The night prior, he'd found himself wrapped around it after a particularly miserable nightmare, and ever since, he couldn't rest his head on it, as if for fear of suffocating it.
He'd hold it gently, brushing his cheek across the cotton fabric, pretending it was the fabric of her dress.
He'd gather the fabric of the pillowcase between his thumb, middle and forefinger, imagining the ruffles that adorned the edge of the layered skirt and the gothic headdress.
At one point, he even climbed inside of his duvet cover, engulfing himself in the memory of being held in her arms and awakening to her golden eyes after his own death, but climbed back out in shame as he became conscious of his grieving.
Many times, his dormmates would try to talk to him or leave food outside his door but his throat refused to call back to them and his legs refused to walk him to his door. Any amount of exertion would cause his upper torso to be in agonising pain.
Chidori had healed her own scars time and time again, and yet never had showed any sign of discomfort after. The only time she'd grimaced in discomfort was when she admitted to her fear of loss. God, he had to find a way to stop thinking about that day. If his pain was truly just psychosomatic, a stab of the knife of mourning, maybe he was as weird as his late girlfriend suggested.
Junpei's hand gingerly caressed the gunshot scar on the left side of his chest.
By a vase of carnations from central Ohio,
Where the looking machine can't hear us
Mitsuru Kirijo stepped out of the elevator in the Tatsumi Memorial Hospital's basement, and her heels clicked along the sterile, shiny floor along the hallway. The burgundy shadow cast by her fringe on her face disappeared as she entered the morgue and it's blinding lights shone down like an opening to the afterlife. Laying on one of the cold, iron tables was Chidori, with her crimson hair neatly tied in two plaits and her body tied in a blue hospital gown, ready and prepared for autopsy.
Mitsuru uncrossed her arms as she approached her former rival's body, and placed the white carnations from her room onto Chidori's pale chest, before swiftly leaving and re-entering the elevator. It was her intention to invite Junpei to see his late girlfriend before her autopsy, but she'd given up on trying to coax him out of his bedroom.
The elevator doors opened with a high pitched shrill.
Mitsuru hadn't expected to be so affected by Chidori's death, but the past few days had been filled with guilt. How had it taken her so long to realise? Strega, artificial personas, suppressants; all the result of her own company. She bit the inside of her lip.
Most wars end in the fall
No wonder Chidori had refused to talk to her in hospital earlier that month.
Could her death have been preventable?
Could her father's death have been preventable?
She revved her motorcycle and sped across moonlight bridge.
Still wearing last night's mascara,
Now that her pet was gone for sure
She was shivering so hard
It looked like there were two of her
Junpei had not eaten for at least three days as far as his roommates knew, and they gathered in awkward silence in the downstairs lounge. The heavy dormitory door opened and the red-haired upperclasswoman entered, taking off an expensive motorcycle helmet and revealing her sullen face, with a layer of cakey, thick concealer in an unsuccessful attempt at covering the bags under her puffy eyes. The other adolescents looked up at her in unison, silently pleading for some sort of solution.
"I'll talk to Iori-kun,"
Mitsuru forced a reassuring smile.
"Please excuse me."
Ikutsuki had left a spare key for each of the dorm rooms inside his office and Mitsuru had no intention of ever using them except for a last resort, yet barely any time after Ikutsuki left their group for good, she had found herself digging around in a draw for one of them. A perfectly shiny silver key, with S.E.E.S. engraved on the one side, and a room number on the other.
She inhaled, knocked on the wooden door, and entered Junpei's room.
The floor was its usual mess, dirty clothes strewn across every surface, crushed cans of energy drinks piled up next to the dustbin he should have emptied last month and old homework crumpled into various shapes. On top of Junpei's bed, he sat, trembling violently with his head in his hands.
"Iori-kun.."
Junpei's face whipped up.
"O-oh, uhm, Kirijo-senpai... I'm fine. Please, you can leave," he mumbled softly, while wiping his face on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. It was gaunt and shallow and unshaven, his lips crackled with dry skin and his facial bones protruding around his heavy eyes.
She could smell the scent of dehydration on his breath as he spoke.
Junpei had never seen Mitsuru so close before as his teammate was always busy or sat far from him in meetings. He could see both her eyes, with a tired softness he had never noticed before, underneath her mahogany side fringe. His vision blurred.
Long red hair...
"Iori!" Mitsuru yelped,
and put a firm hand on his bony shoulder to balance him.
"When was the last time you drank? I'll get you a glass of water, please try to rest your head down if you are feeling dizzy."
She cleared a path to his en-suite bathroom.
"Here, have this."
Junpei peeked over his duvet and scrunched his face up as he took a sip of the drink and let out a sob.
"Iori... Junpei please talk to me."
Mitsuru bit her lip. She could easily deliver a perfect speech to a crowd of her peers, and assert herself as the leader of a multinational company, but comforting people? It certainly wasn't her forte. Mitsuru rarely smiled or laughed and always had a cool air of confidence about her, enough to make anyone feel short. Maybe she should have left this to Yukari or Akihiko.
No. This was her responsibility. If it wasn't for the Kirijo Group's experiments, Chidori, her own father, Shinjiro, Yukari's father, Ken's mother and so on would all be alive.
Along with the company, she inherited that guilt, the shackle of her family's sins.
"I-I'm sorry senpai.."
"I don't know what to do."
Seeing Mitsuru stood by the edge of his bed was uncanny, she definitely looked out of place. He moved to sit back up, causing him to hunch over and wince, clutching at his sweatshirt, leaking beads of sweat from his forehead.
"That injury shouldn't be bothering you. Junpei, this isn't healthy, You must talk to me now" said Mitsuru firmly, while furrowing her brow in concern.
"It's been 3 days since the incident, I know this is hard, but she gave this life to you. You can't starve yourself in this room forever."
Mitsuru edged even closer, offering a silk designer handkerchief for him to wipe his fresh tears with after the mention of Chidori.
"I-I could have saved her... Could we not have just waited for the dark hour to end and get an ambulance? Why did she have to die?" Junpei stuttered, running his fingers through his buzz cut.
"Before we left for Kyoto, she asked where I'd be in 2 years... If only I'd been honest about my feelings to her she never would have been outside Tartarus last Sunday. She could live here, in the dorms with us."
Aggressively, his breathing quickened as he spoke.
"She was looking for a reason to live. I get it now. Why am I always so slow?!? Now I get it. I get why she felt so awful and hopeless. I get all that stuff she said about death. I get why she would cut herself!"
"Junpei please look at me," Mitsuru said, crouching down an even level to him. She wasn't unfamiliar with the feeling of misery and despair after such a loss, after all it had not been long since her own father had died, but seeing Junpei in such a state terrified her. He wasn't the most mature member of S.E.E.S. and certainly wasn't smart, but emotionally he was the glue holding the group together.
Junpei wearily obeyed and followed his senpai's eyes. His vision blurred again, 3 days of no food and water was getting to him. The room began to twist itself around Mitsuru, who herself was turning into a blob of red and white in his eyes.
Long red hair.... A white blouse....
He could see through the sleeves of her blouse,
The plans of her architect lover
A tattoo of a boarded-up house,
An ink door that belonged to another
After Chidori had kidnapped Junpei back in the summer, he'd accompanied Mitsuru, Akihiko and Shinjiro to bring her to the hospital. That night, Chidori had refused to talk to all of them, or even glance at them, causing Junpei great distress.
He remembered waiting anxiously outside the door of her room while she changed from her gothic lolita attire into an aquamarine blue hospital gown. Why had Chidori even been taken to a hospital anyway? Junpei shook his head; he trusted the third years, and their judgement was probably better than his.
As the time was approaching 2:00 AM, Akihiko and Shinjiro had left to rest. Mitsuru was in the room with Chidori, which made Junpei jealous to no end. He knew he was a guy and Chidori was a girl, but surely she'd feel more comfortable with him than with Mitsuru of all people.
Although, when Mitsuru finally left Chidori's room, she had an unusually sickly, pale face that made Junpei feel kind of guilty about his initial envy, like maybe it was a good thing he wasn't there. Nevertheless, he still was curious.
"Hey Mitsuru-Senpai, you good? You look kinda tired."
"I'm fine, thank you for asking," Mitsuru dismissed, in that strange tone she used when Yukari would bring up the origins of Tartarus, like she was hiding something for the sake of not wanting to upset the other party. "Yoshino-San must have accidentally hurt herself with her axe, but there's no need to fret, she's safe and taken care of here."
At the time Junpei was too exhausted to think anything of it, but looking back it was obvious Chidori's injuries weren't "accidental" as Mitsuru had lied.
When the rain hits you,
It hits you slow.
Stitch after stitch
Stitch after stitch
Stitch after stitch
Stitch after Stitch
"Junpei? Take it easy, I'm right here."
Junpei's eyes fluttered open to see Mitsuru's head above him. Had he fallen asleep? He didn't recognise his surroundings, and definitely wasn't in his dorm room. No, this room was immaculately clean, and he could feel that he was laying on some kind of expensive cushioned furniture. He glanced around. There was an emerald tint to the room, indicating the dark hour. How long had he been out? Then again his sense of time had pretty much disappeared since the 22nd of November.
Mitsuru's face was a pale green, and he couldn't help but compare it to that weird flashback he had. His head pounded, but he lifted it regardless. He was still wearing his sweatshirt, and he was covered in a thick heated blanket.
"Did.. did you carry me here?" Junpei asked, feeling disorientated.
"You fainted about half an hour ago, and then you fell asleep," Mitsuru stated, with a calm tone despite the look on her face.
"I transported you to the lounge in my room. I wanted to keep an eye on you after you passed out, and besides, your room is.....not very clean."
"Wow.... You're pretty strong.." Junpei said, with a weak laugh.
"Maybe physically, but I promise you I've been feeling just as guilty as you have about Chidori's death. I cannot stop thinking about strega. To think that while I was growing up, privileged, but at the expense of my peers who were being forced into fighting in Tartarus at such a young age. It makes me wonder if I'm doing the same thing to Ken? I suppose that doesn't matter now." Mitsuru turned her head away while speaking, leaving only the side submerged by her fringe in Junpei's view.
"I'm supposed to know the most about Kirijo. It is my company after all, but the time Chidori spent in hospital made me feel clueless. Artificial personas and suppressants. I should have known. It all seems so obvious to me now."
Mitsuru grimaced and clenched her acrylic nails into a fist on her skirt. She was sat on the chaise lounge opposite from Junpei. Her other arm was held along her abdomen, a habit she'd picked up sometime a while ago.
"I visited Chidori in the morgue last evening. I placed the flowers you bought her on her chest. Carnations, very lively looking ones. I thought I'd let you know."
Junpei lay his head back on the velvet pillow beneath it. "Morgue," he thought, and began to quietly cry again. He'd also never seen Mitsuru so caring before.. he really was a burden, wasn't he?
Mitsuru walked to the edge of Junpei and kneeled down.
"It's going to be okay," she whispered.
"I'll stay here with you as long as you need."
"Chidori is here with you too, don't forget that.."
Mia's first trial. Lyrics are from "still ill" by the smiths (song choice doesn't make much sense lmao but the lyrics here represent how much Mia wanted to be a lawyer and yet was left so traumatised from the trial that it was a LONG time for her to get back in the courtroom.)
It’s officially here — Miego Week 2025 has begun!
Time to celebrate the brilliance, banter, and bittersweet beauty of Mia Fey x Diego Armando all week long.
Whether you’re posting fanfics, art, meta, playlists, edits, or just screaming in the tags — we’re so excited to see how you bring this pair to life.
Don’t forget to:
✔️ Tag your works clearly with #miegoweek2025 the prompt and day
✔️ Add your AO3 pieces to the Miego Week 2025 collection
✔️ Spread the love by reblogging and engaging with fellow creators!
If you’re working on something for Miego Week 2025, today’s the perfect day to share a 1-sentence teaser, a favorite line, or a tiny WIP snippet from your piece! No context, no pressure — just a sip of what’s to come.
Let your mutuals guess the prompt. Let your followers scream in the tags. Let Mia and Diego haunt timelines early. 👀
And remember to use the tag #miegoweek2025 so we can all enjoy the slowburn together!
"The only thing we can do is move forward — one step at a time."
Mia knew how to look the truth in the eye — and make it hurt just enough to matter.
Now it’s your turn.
The Miego Week 2025 prompt list is out, and we want to know:
🖋️ Which prompt grabbed you by the tie and whispered, “write me”?
🎨 Which one has you itching to open your sketchbook or drag in your moodboard files?
🎧 Which one made you think “this is their song” instantly?
Reblog this post and share the prompt you’re most excited about — or start a chain by tagging someone you know would bring one of these to life in the most Mia-Fey-way possible: with guts, grace, and just a little fire.
I love the prompt "late nights" and I want to do something in reference to the scene in the anime where Mia is asleep at her desk and Diego puts his waistcoat over her omggggg
Fanart for one of my fav artists: @deathonapaper go follow them on Instagram @/artprojectdeathonapaper if you enjoy antibullying and mental health awareness related art
stormborns
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
jacobvanloon
pixelskylines
areudirty
origamiaround
germansingergirl