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goddess-of-green · 2 years

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ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ɪɴ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇꜱ | 𝐍. 𝐊𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐞𝐝𝐚

(Synopsis: Servant comes back home to reader injured after looking for necessities. Reader patches him up and shows him the care that he deserves.)

this has been in the works for like. weeks because i spent way too long on the set up and then got into jdvn the day after i started writing it

Warnings: GN!Reader, MAJOR SDR2/MILD UDG Spoilers, takes place during UDG, it's a little angsty at first but it gets fluffy I promise, slightly graphic depictions of injury, use of nicknames/pet names (honey, hun), suggestive themes

You sighed, cleaning up for the third time that day. No matter what you did, the apartment still felt dirty. You supposed it couldn't be helped, given it was the apocalypse.

You'd been lucky to find such a large and secure shelter, but you still couldn't help but be dissatisfied with your current living conditions.

You wished Servant would come back. He made it much easier to take your mind off these things, even if he was a walking reminder of the tragedy. Being with him filled a void that you otherwise wouldn't be able to fill while the world was in such a state.

You had found him not long after the tragedy struck, and remembered him as an underclassman from Hope's Peak. He was much different now, but you couldn't help but seek some familiarity—some form of companionship at a time like this.

You pulled him from the kids that put a terrible collar and leash on him and treated him like a slave, but for some reason he still refused to give you his name, insisting that he was only a lowly servant and deserved to be addressed as such.

You also couldn't figure out how to get the collar off, to your dismay, but you tried your best to loosen it for him. You weren't very effective, but he appreciated the effort. More than you knew.

Most of your other classmates were either dead or missing, and your family was far out of the picture at this point. You truly had no one other than Servant left in the world.

Even for a maniac, Servant was weird. He had episodes often, and would zone out and get into hope and despair nearly every time you had a conversation with him, but he also had strangely lucid moments—moments where he seemed even more sane than you were.

Not that that was saying much, these days. This kind of lifestyle chips away at you. It's not really something you can ever acclimate to. Not after having lived "normally" for so long.

Servant was very intelligent, but his logic and philosophies had so many twists and idiosyncrasies that trying to understand it was like trying to untangle a wadded up ball of yarn.

Even if you managed to mostly untangle it, and straighten it out, it would be frayed and fuzzy and altered from what it once was. You believed the only one who could truly understand Servant, was Servant himself.

But you tried. For heaven's sake, you tried. You did your best to keep up with each twist and turn and curve ball he threw your way.

Because even if he was crazy, he was all you had.

And you didn't want to lose him.

He heavily insisted that you stay in the apartment at all times, he didn't even want you roaming around the complex. You'd been a bit indignant at first, telling him that you could protect yourself, and you knew what you were dealing with, but it didn't take much convincing in the end.

You quickly came to learn about Servant's ruthless luck cycle. It was highly active, which you assumed was in part due to the state of the world. Everyday something extremely odd and unexplainable happened to Servant—and usually you too, due to your proximity to him—either for better or for worse, and it wasn't something you could deny at this point.

Because of this, simply being involved with him was dangerous, and leaving the safety of the apartment could lead to injury or worse for you. Servant was also much more effective at foraging than you were, since his luck tended to grant him unique and useful finds.

You sometimes wished you could go with him anyway, just to make sure he was okay, but from what you'd observed, his luck seems to go to any length other than killing him. You knew about his illness, but he'd outlived his life expectancy by far, and while he wasn't in the greatest shape, he was certainly still up and running with tenacity.

There were times when Servant would have an episode so bad he'd become completely unaware of his surroundings, and be left extremely exhausted by the time he came out of it. You were worried something like that would happen to him, and leave him vulnerable while he was out on his own.

You had to remind yourself that he was a remnant, and he was much stronger than he looked.

Still, your mind could only run in circles as you sat alone in the apartment, completely stir crazy.

You tried your best to keep things as tidy and clean as possible, but there was only so much you could do.

Cooking was pretty much a fabled activity at this point. Though there was still food you were able to prepare, which you always tried to do for Servant.

From your understanding, he was meant to serve the children that had previously been holding him captive, but he was very poor at caring for them. Specifically, in food preparation.

Servant would spend the majority of the day exploring Towa City, trying to find anything that could help you two survive longer, or more comfortably, and you felt like you had to contribute something, given that you were stuck inside all day.

You almost felt like a little house spouse, in some fucked up, post-apocalyptic way.

It could have been your loneliness speaking, but you felt genuine care for Servant, and you wanted to do your best to make sure he was doing okay.

If it weren't for him, you probably wouldn't have lasted this long into the tragedy. Which was ironic, given that he was partially the cause for it.

Making your way through your tiny kitchen, you opened the cabinets and grabbed some non-perishable food.

Some dried fruit and vegetables, along with canned meat. It was by no means high dining, but it was certainly better than the scraps many others had to live off of.

Just before you cracked the first can open, the door burst open, making you flinch.

You knew in your mind, Servant was the only one that could make it this far into the complex without being caught or killed by the swarming Monokuma's, but the way the door slammed open worried you nonetheless.

Making your way over to the door, you gasped at the state you found him in.

He dropped a few bags on the floor, presumably things he'd gathered while he was out, but what you were more focused on was the red bleeding down his face as he lowered himself to the ground, looking close to passing out.

He smiled as you cupped his cheeks, looking over him quickly and trying to find where the blood was coming from.

"Heh, happy to see me? I really am lucky to have someone like you to come home to." He smiled casually.

You had pretty much gotten used to his nonchalant behavior towards tense situations, or sustaining serious injuries, but you didn't play into it.

"What happened?" Your search ceased as you found the gash on the top of his head, a bit past his forehead, turning his starch white hair red.

You hurried to pull him into the kitchen, pressing a cloth to his head and trying to stop the bleeding.

"Ah... I'm not sure I recall." Servant smiled, but grunted as you pressed against his wound.

Had he lost awareness like you feared? Or was he just being elusive? You wouldn't put it past him to think he was unworthy of talking about his troubles, or something.

Not that his answer particularly mattered to you. What you were worried about at the present time was treating him.

You grabbed his wrist, guiding him to hold the cloth against his head so you could step away to rummage through the cabinets.

You weren't lucky enough to have rubbing alcohol or hydrogen peroxide on hand, but you found a nearly empty bottle of nail polish remover in one of the bottom cabinets.

It would have to do.

You grabbed the bottle and made your way back to Servant, sitting him down on a chair and sitting next to him. You took the cloth from his head and folded it over, pouring the light purple substance onto the clean side of cloth and pressing it back to his head.

Servant hissed at the burn of chemicals against the open wound, and you bit your lip.

"Sorry... I'm sorry, honey." You murmured, the term of endearment falling from your lips subconsciously. "It'll be over soon, you're doing so good."

His shoulders untensed as you spoke soft words of encouragement, and brought your other hand up to rub his shoulder distractingly.

His skin was cold underneath his red and green sweater, and the collar of it was stretched enough that you were mostly touching his bare skin as you rubbed his shoulder.

Servant shuddered. (Knowing him, there was no real way to tell what caused him to do so.)

The bleeding was starting to stop, but you frowned at the streaks of blood that still ran down his face.

Servant looked pretty rough, which was normal, all things considered, but at times you couldn't help but look at him and think of how beautiful he was. How beautiful he must have been, before everything.

How his porcelain skin looked before it was tainted with blood, dirt and soot. How his fluffy hair looked before it was matted and bleach white.

How his smile looked before it was riddled with insanity.

You felt bad for Servant, and maybe that was what made you feel so attached to him. Maybe that was why you felt such an intense need to take care of him.

You sometimes found yourself wondering what things would've been like if you grew close with him under different circumstances. Or if you would have grown close at all.

Maybe you would have walked to class together, and ate lunch with each other, and had silly little sleepovers like teenagers do.

And maybe, if not for the tragedy, around this time you would have been living with him, attending a nice university and starting your lives together.

But there wasn't much use in thinking about things like that, was there? Because it was too late for something like that.

You couldn't help but wish you had cared a little more about the riots, and you found yourself wishing you'd paid that fluffy haired underclassmen a little more attention. Maybe things would be different if you had.

But hindsight was always 20/20.

You hadn't realized that you zoned out, and now the rag was completely red and Servant was staring at you curiously.

You pulled it from his head, standing up with a frown as you inspected the wound. "Sorry."

Servant smiled carelessly as your fingers brushed through his hair, trying to get a good look at the injury. "It's no problem at all, please don't waste your worries on a lowly Servant like myself."

Even after adjusting to staying with you, he never did let go of his role as a "servant". He insisted on doing his best to be of service to you.

In fact, you were sure the only reason he didn't object to you helping him was because he'd come to know how stubborn you could be.

There was no way you'd let him clean and dress his own wound when you were around, especially considering he looked a half a second from passing out when he came through the door.

You found it rather difficult to sift your fingers through his hair with how tangled and matted it was. His hair had always been wild and messy, but it seemed much worse than usual.

In fact, taking another look at him you found several things worse than usual. His sweater had new holes, he was littered with bruises and scratches, and he seemed to be faintly trembling-- though unsure shaking was somewhat normal for Servant.

You frowned, and Servant just watched your face contort as the gears in your mind turned, unbothered, but perhaps interested in your train of thought.

"What happened, honey?" You sighed finally, cupping his cheek. "You really don't remember?"

Servant nearly flinched at the contact, a shaky smile making its way onto his face as his cheeks bloomed red.

He leaned in, basking in your touch and closing his eyes, but he didn't answer.

You frowned, but simply went back to checking his wound.

You didn't have a very clear view of the gash, but the bleeding seemed to have stopped. However, you couldn't exactly dress it with all his matted hair in the way, and you doubted he'd let you cut it--if you even had the means to do so.

Well, I think the best I can do at the moment is to clean his hair so he doesn't infect the open wound, and then go from there.

"Alright, Servant. Can I wash your hair?" You asked, standing up.

He looked up at you for a moment, eyes round as coins, and you started to wonder if he'd heard you.

He smiled just before you could repeat yourself however, and jumped up with a pink face. "Of course! You can do anything you want to me. I am your servant, after all." He stared at you with lidded eyes.

You weren't sure you liked the way he said that, but you just grabbed his hand gently and led him to the apartment's one small bathroom.

It was a little narrow, so you had Servant sit down on the toilet while you attempted to run a bath.

The water pressure was funky, and it wasn't exactly clear, but it was clean enough for bathing. You didn't have enough disinfectant for all of his little cuts and abrasions, and you didn't want to risk leaving them untended when he was so careless--even with his luck ensuring his life would remain intact.

He sat relatively straight with his hands folded in his lap as he watched you fill the tub and mess with the temperature (warm wasn't really an option, but you did your best for something less than cold) and as you glanced back at him you thought he looked more put together than he had in quite some time.

Even in his more lucid moments, Servant never seemed like he was all the way there, but as he gazed at you with focused eyes, you found you wouldn't think him anything other than a normal boy if not for his wretched appearance.

Maybe it was some kind of psychotic reverse, you considered. A crazy person gets a bonk on the head and suddenly they can think straight.

That was more of just a silly thought, though. You sincerely doubted a severe head wound would even be enough to make Servant normal.

Turning away from the bath as you let it fill up, you helped Servant by pushing his leather jacket off his shoulders and tugging the ripped sweater up over his head. He shivered a bit as his torso was met with the cool air, but made no comment.

You wordlessly left the room to look for soap. You were fairly certain there weren't any skincare products or conditioner lying around, but maybe if you were lucky you'd find some body wash and shampoo.

You found some antibacterial hand soap after a little digging, which you supposed was better than nothing. The soap would be good for his injuries, at least. You grabbed a large cup from the kitchen and made your way back to Servant.

When you reentered the bathroom, you found that Servant had shucked off his pants and slid into the tub while you were gone. Modesty wasn't really a big deal anymore, but you still found yourself slightly relieved that he'd fully undressed on his own.

Noting that the bath had filled to an acceptable volume, you turned off the faucet and set the soap on the edge of the tub.

"Okay, can I wash your hair for you?" You asked, just to be sure.

Servant nodded slowly, but his expression was very eager. "Anything you'd like to do to me, as I said before, you may. Wash me, hold me, hit me, kill me..." He started to stare off into space, and if you didn't know any better you'd think he was fantasizing.

You sighed, scooping up some water with the cup and pouring it over Servant's head. "I'd never hurt you or kill you, hun. Not if I could help it."

Servant smiled, face red and something suspiciously akin to drool running down his chin, but you told yourself it was just water as you poured more over his head.

"Even in such despairing times as these, you're able to show kindness and benevolence. You don't resort to violence and despair when the world is running on it. You're so, so beautiful." He gazed at you with loving eyes, and against your better judgement, your heart fluttered.

You knew he was talking about your "hope" and not your outward appearance when he called you beautiful, but he'd made it clear on multiple occasions that he didn't find you unattractive.

Sometimes you felt like the only thing that kept you from falling in love with Servant was your sanity.

But that didn't mean you didn't care for him.

When you determined his hair was adequately wet and flat, you pumped some of the hand soap into your hand and started to scrub at his scalp.

Servant's eyes fluttered closed in what appeared to be relaxation at the feeling, and you realized he was probably extremely exhausted from his trip. You did your best to avoid catching tangles in his hair and clean him quickly so that he wouldn't fall asleep in the tub.

If there was one thing more troublesome than Servant, it was an incapacitated Servant.

You were gentle around the open wound, but still made sure to get it clean, feeling bad as Servant's brows furrowed in discomfort.

Once you'd finished lathering his hair, you picked up the cup once more and poured the water over his head. You had him tilt his head back so as not to get any soap, water, or blood in his eyes.

Running your hands through his hair, you smiled a little as it wasn't dirty and oily like before. It was still fairly tangled, but at least it was (relatively) clean now.

You leaned back and nudged the bottle of hand soap so it would enter Servant's field of vision. "Would you like to do the rest on your own?" You asked.

Servant's eyes opened sluggishly and the soft shade of red on his cheeks seemed to fade a little as he eyed the bottle. A brief frown tugged at his lips, but he didn't object.

"Of course, I have troubled you quite enough." He smiled.

You shook your head, exasperated as you pressed a kiss to his wet cheek. "You haven't. Call for me when you're done, okay?"

He blushed, nodding and watching you as you picked up his sweater and left the bathroom.

You examined his sweater more thoroughly once you entered the living room. Somehow it was his only article of clothing to sustain damage, but it happened so often it was just as troubling as if all his clothes were being shredded.

You did your best to patch up the holes in the fabric with a little sewing kit, but the sweater was definitely on its last legs. You needed to find something else for him to wear, lest he have to go out in nothing but his ill-fitting leather jacket.

Regretfully, you blushed at the thought, but put it out of your mind immediately. Not only was it impractical, but it was unsafe.

Still, you didn't have a fresh wardrobe of clothes in his size conveniently around. The sweater would have to do until you or him came across a suitable replacement.

Once you finished, you figured Servant was nearly done bathing. You picked up the sweater and one of the few towels in the apartment before going to the bathroom.

You knocked, but were met with no response, so you pushed open the door to find Servant staring vacantly at the ceiling.

As you approached the tub, he slowly turned to look at you. It seemed to take him a moment to process that you were there.

"Ah, Y/N! You came back!" He smiled, seemingly excited.

You looked down at him. "Are you done? You didn't call."

"Hm? What do you mean?" He looked up at you with a pleasant smile.

You sighed. There was something wrong with him.

"Alright, well come on. It's time to get out." You felt more like his mother than anything.

Oblivious to your thoughts, he nodded and unclogged the drain before standing up.

You handed him the towel and turned away politely, folding his clothes on the counter and setting the sweater with them.

"Once you finish getting dressed, come to the bedroom, okay? I'm going to put a bandage over your wound and brush your hair out."

You looked to him for confirmation and he smiled, drying his body with the towel. "Okay."

Leaving, you searched around for some bandages that would cover the whole injury. Luckily, you had a decent amount of dressings. At least Servant's luck was good for something.

Grabbing the box, you headed back to your shared room and grabbed the hairbrush off the dresser.

Within a few minutes, Servant pushed open the door to the bedroom and shuffled in. Sitting down next to you on the bed, he leaned in to hug you.

"Huh? What's this for?" You asked in surprise. Despite his apparent liking for affection, it was rare for Servant to actually initiate physical contact.

"You fixed my sweater." He smiled.

"You're so corny." You gave him a look, but wrapped your arms around him anyway.

After a moment, you realized Servant was content to stay in your arms until you told him otherwise, so you patted his back. "Come on, sit up. I need to put this bandage on you."

With what sounded like a mild noise of protest, he slowly sat up and faced you.

Brushing and lifting his tangled hair out of the way as best you could, you pressed the bandage over his wound.

Once you were sure it was affixed, you let go of his hair and leaned back. "Okay. Now turn around."

Obediently, Servant moved to readjust himself on the bed so that he was facing away from you.

Picking up the hairbrush, you grabbed the ends of his tangled--but now clean--hair and gently started to run the brush through it. You took care to make sure you didn't tug on his scalp, or pull out any of his hair.

Despite your carefulness, you noticed a lot of hair shedding into the brush, but it seems that Servant isn't in pain, at least.

Quite the opposite, in fact. As you run the brush through his hair as gently as possible, he seems rather relaxed. He's quiet, and he leans his body back against yours.

What you can't see is that his eyes are closed and his face is pink, but maybe that's for the better.

It takes quite a while to ease the brush through every little tangle and all the angry knots, and you notice Servant's hair gaining a lot of volume as you brush it out, but you persevere. Even though you're pretty sure his hair will be big enough to cover his entire face by the time you're done.

You've been brushing his hair for well past 20 minutes at this point, and he's been quiet practically the whole time, you're even starting to wonder if he fell asleep.

You wouldn't be very surprised if he had, he seemed to have a rough go of it when he was out foraging, and he was probably exhausted.

As you finish brushing through the last section of his hair, you run the brush through it to make sure you really got out all the tangles, and sit back.

Your back hurts from the odd posture you kept the whole time you were brushing his hair, but before you lay down to ease the discomfort, you want to put on the finishing touches.

You attempt to tuck his hair behind his ear, but it just falls back out.

Humming, you think for a moment, before standing up suddenly.

Servants grunts a bit as you get up, sitting up to right himself as he'd been leaning most of his weight on you the whole time.

It seems he hadn't quite been asleep, but very close to it; in that relaxing half-conscious period as you begin to doze off.

You grabbed some cutesy little barrets of the dresser, clearly meant for little kids, but they'd do their job.

You pin the little rainbow glitter barrettes to the three sections of his hair that fall into his face, effectively pinning them back.

You didn't want his now extremely fluffy hair to obscure his vision, and maybe having his hair back would prevent it from getting tangled again so fast.

Satisfied with your work, you smiled at the girly little hair clips and Servant's sleepy face. Usually he'd be running his mouth endlessly at such attentions, but it seems he could barely keep himself up right at the moment.

You felt similarly, tired not just from taking care of Servant, but the world around you, and taking a nap sounded like the best thing right now.

"Come on, you should get some rest now, Servant." Lightly, you pushed his shoulders so that he'd lay down, which he did so without protest, snuggling his face into the flat pillow at the head of the bed and letting his eyes finally drift shut completely.

Laying down next to him, you got comfortable as well, sighing at the feeling of weight being lifted off your back as you laid against the soft (well, soft by today's standards,) mattress.

Feeling you settle in next to him, Servant wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in towards him and pressing his face into you.

Usually, such close contact would have embarrassed you, but you were too tired at the moment to do anything other than appreciate it.

You wrapped your arms around him in turn, and felt genuinely at peace as you drifted off.

Thanks for reading! I don't usually do notes at the end of a oneshot but I had some stuff to say about this one.

The whole fic is meant to kind of have a looming sense of dysphoria due to the dystopian setting, since it takes place after the tragedy and while class 77-b is essentially insane. However, I also did my best to make the soft moments outshine that.

What Reader said about Komaeda being the only one to understand himself is true to an extent I believe, but the reader is unaware of Izuru Kamukura's existence. I think Kamukura definitely has the capacity to truly understand Komaeda. Ordinarily though, Komaeda is so contradictory and strange that anyone would have trouble psychoanalyzing him.

Also, I know that Komaeda was with the Warriors of Hope for his own reasons, but for plot purposes it's just more convenient that he was forced to be their Servant.

#danganronpa x reader #super danganronpa 2 x reader #ultra despair girls x reader #dr x reader #sdr2 x reader #udg x reader #danganronpa 2 x reader #dr 2 x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda x reader #the servant

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