You're Just Like Me // Obsessed Nagito Komaeda X Female Reader

"ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴀɪʀ"

Art Credit To: 3N on pixiv

Tw: Death, Swearing, Suicide 

Playing God...

I fluttered my eyes open, thinking of the voice I just heard. It was Nagito, right? Right? As I scanned my room for anyone or anything, nothing showed. Maybe it was just a bad dream after all, we'd been here for awhile now. I'm probably hallucinating.

I can't make my own decisions

Or make any with precision

"I'll be the one in control, even if I am to lose it... just the idea of it is enough to make me quiver with anticipation..." I whispered as I found a button up shirt in one of the drawers, a single one- as if the bear knew. He's smart after all...

I buttoned up the clean shirt, hiding the gross taken-top that hid underneath. I pulled up my skirt, the red material a nice contrast on the white, especially compared to the usual black. I slid both of my socks up, lacing up my boots and leaving my room.

Well, maybe you should tie me up

So I don't go where you don't want me

This may not have been getting me out of here, this may not feed me nor comfort me; but it's the best thing that I can do in my situation. I could wait for someone to force me to go, but all I needed to know was what the Final Dead Room held. If I had ever told Nagito that I was planning to enter the room, knowing very well that he had, he would have stopped me. He would have told me I was too good, too pure, too much of true hope to do it. He'd never want to see me hurt.

How bad could the dingy room be?

You say that I've been changing

That I'm not just simply aging

And as I walked, my boots made the dreadful echo sounds against the floor. No one else was awake, it was just me. Of course, Freak Show and his sister could probably see me- but tho hell with them. Did I care for them either, no.

Of course, Monokuma had told us that it was dangerous. Nagito told me it was dangerous, everyone in their proper and sound mind would understand that this was dangerous. It was a puzzle that was created by the same person who had created this killing game, and yet, I was fine with going at it.

Yeah, how could that be logical?

Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat

As I reached the terrifying clown door, I smiled at myself. I'd be doing the right thing, right? I'd either gain an amazing clue to help my peers out of this hellhole, or I'd end up dead and let them out of here. It'd be a murder of myself, correct?

The words "FINAL DEATH ROOM" illuminated my face in a dark pink glow, the strawberries of the walls around me a reminder that everyone else was suffering in the same way I was. And that's what I determined was the motivation for me to complete this puzzle. I had to help them, and in that I would receive the glory I oh so desired.

You don't have to believe me

But the way I, way I see it

Next time you point a finger

I might have to bend it back