𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 '𝟐𝟑 ⋆ Day Three.

Poll: What is, on average, the best Danganronpa chapter across the 3 mainline games?

AKA all Danganronpa murders are the same <3.

Parallels among the murders of the same chapter are listed below:

Chapter 1, AKA: "In a murder committed out of fear and panic, after dusk, in a location where the protagonist appeared shortly before, a strongly motivated individual, after taking initiative on their own, is murdered as a result of a betrayal by the protagonist's best ally, after which the corpse of the victim is found slumped on the floor and during the trial for which the blame is for a prolonged time placed on the protagonist or their ally (who was indeed involved, but ultimately is not the blackened)."

Chapter 2, AKA: "In an attempt to maintain allegiance to an important individual and to uphold a sense of honor for their Ultimate title, a capable classmate bludgeons to death the mentally strong yet physically weak (or mentally weak and physically strong) fan favorite (who therefore ends up dying too early) in a hands-on-hands physical confrontation, after which the placement of the corpse as well as the "perceived" crime scene is messed with to pin the blame on another person."

Chapter 3, AKA: "A-not-mentally-well-adjusted individual commits an immaculate and complicated double murder for a unthinkably irrational or amoral cause, which includes a body appearing at the crime scene out of nowhere in a seemingly impossible fashion, and in which one of the victims is the one who was lured out by the killer and willfully takes part in the action (but unknowing that it will result in their own murder) and in which the other victim ends up being the socially ostracized individual, simply because they happen to be at a wrong place at the wrong time."

Chapter 4, AKA: "Within a set-up for a locked room murder mystery, the good-hearted fan favorite becomes a part of a two-person life-and-death allegiance to perform a heroic act of self-sacrificial killing using an unknown murder method with the intention of getting themself killed so that everyone else may live, while one person is revealed to have had a deeper insight into the killing game for some time."

Chapter 5, AKA: "In an unsuccessful attempt to bring the killing game to its conclusion, the most malicious student of the class orchestrates an almost perfect, convoluted and seemingly unnecessarily but indeed intentionally violent murder (which serves as a way of mangling the corpse to a point where the murder method is concealed), whose solving hinges on the protagonist's new but trusted ally's confession about their not-really-consenting involvement."

Chapter 6, AKA: "After a retrospective investigation that brings to light new circumstances about the game's setting as well as its previous events, an existential crisis consumes the remaining survivors as the identity of the class and the killing game itself is revealed, during which Junko Enoshima appears (of course), and which ends with the true protagonist killing the mastermind in order to seek redemption, freedom and hope for their classmates.

P.S. This whole thing was primarily inspired to by my desire to prove Nagito's assumptions from chapter 4 wrong:

Most of these are fortunatelly not true when we also take V3 into account: while Rantaro was important, he wasn't stabbed; a serial killer was revealed in the third chapter, not the in the second; and I wouldn't exactly classify chapter 4 murder as a suicide in either sdr2 or v3 (though we DID have two people playing Russian roulette in the Funhouse, yikes). All in all, the murders wouldn't have been nearly as shocking if they correlated with what had been already pointed out in the second game before, so I'm not really surprised that there ended up being other similarities among the murders.

That's all, thank you for reading <3

Well. The threatening display worked to quiet Lambert, just not in the way that was intended.

Scene doodle I have planned for The Rehabilitation of Death

FORGIVENESS. — aizawa shouta x male reader

wc: 2.1k

WARNING: dirty talk (sho has the filthiest mouth ever :O), choking (brief), manhandling, slapping, face-grabbing, degradation/humiliation, semi-public sex, frottage, blowjob mention, creampie, ruined orgasm

genitalia terms: dick, cock, hole, cunt, pussy (even though these terms are used the readers genitals are ambiguous)

a/n: UMM I THINK I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE…….. DIALOGUE no one talks about how embarrassing it is to write this stuff outtttt my face is burning

“I just want to know why.” Aizawa says, hunched over with his hands in his pockets. You can see how tense his shoulders are, and the furrow of his brows almost makes you want to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. In the middle of Musutafu’s central police station, you sit in an uncomfortably stiff chair that digs into your thighs, the plastic all but holding you in place. It wasn’t even your fault— Okay, maybe throwing the first punch was your fault. And ignoring Shouta’s dire instructions to stay out of trouble. And maybe you deserve a slap on the wrist for instigating….But what was a broken leg to a regeneration quirk?

And maybe the whole argument-in-front-of-the-police thing wasn’t very smart either. So what, you’re a big boy. You can handle yourself, you don’t need Shouta’s saving.

“He’ll live.” Is all you say, watching Shouta’s jaw clench. His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he nods once, crossing his arms over his chest. Through his black shirt, though baggy, you can see the swell of his biceps as they rest on his opposing knuckles. And because you just can’t help yourself, you grumble, “Bitch deserved it anyway.”

“Right..” He laughs, almost in disbelief, as he signs something you can’t quite make out at the reception table. Then he turns to you and grabs your arm, tightening his grip as he walks you out the station. You have the urge to run, to scramble out of his grasp and go as far as your legs will take you. To your left, a police officer looks ready to ask you more questions but he’s interrupted before he can even take an opening breath. “He’s with me, I got it handled.”

You’re fucked.

“Airheaded little boys and bars don’t mix,” He makes a passing comment, opening the passenger's seat to his car and hastily pushing you in. Usually, the casual dominance of his large, veiny hands buckling your seatbelt for you would have you swooning, raising your chin to steal a kiss on his stubbled cheek with a saccharine smile. Instead, you turn your head away, watching Shouta close the door and briskly walk to the driver’s seat, and from there he sits with bristle, moving his hair out of his handsome face. His eyes remain heavy-lidded, dark circles cascading into deep shadows around his tired eyes. “Do you—“

“I know you can’t say the same for yourself, but I handle myself just fine.” You feel quite proud of yourself for that one, crossing your arms over your chest and setting your jaw— just like you’d seen the hero do before.

“Aht, what do I always say about speaking over me?” Aizawa’s grip on your jaw tightens, squeezing your cheeks and pushing your lips together. You look much sweeter like this, quiet and anticipating as you look at him with wide eyes. His dark eyes are even darker, stone cold and unrelenting— but you can see a trickle of red light gleam through them. “Repeat it.”

“‘M’not sh’posed sh’to…” And part of you wants to ignore how the sadistic quirk of his lips upturns as you speak, but the brat in you just can’t let it go. You roll your eyes, averting your gaze as if the traffic lights are the most entertaining things you’ve seen in a while.

“Oh, so you can listen,” You just choose not to. His grip loosens as he pulls out the parking lot, driving in silence.

Save for the occasional blinker signal sound as he drives— wherever you’re going isn’t home, you’d realized after a particularly sharp turn into a vacant lot. During the drive, Aizawa seems to have collected himself, his long, dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail that trickled down his shoulders. Evidently, he didn’t want to drive angry, and most certainly didn’t want to punish you while angry. “Need me to pound some sense into you, baby? Knock those bratty thoughts right outta that pretty head of yours?”

A high whine threatens to escape your throat, Shouta reaching over to grab your throat and nip at your lips, trailing hot, wet kisses and bites down to your chin and throat. He seems to move your body so easily, manhandling you into the perfect position to be used, into positions that have you whining and moaning like a slut. Your legs spread across his lap, and had his seat not been lowered, you’d surely have smacked your head into the ceiling.

It’s embarrassing, all it takes is a few kisses and bites to have you rutting in his arms, desperate to blow off steam and even more desperate for him. Aizawa’s hands rest at your hips, holding you down while he grinds into you slowly, like he’s fucking you, save for the layers of clothes in the way. You click your tongue, fingers exploring the dark sea of hair framing his face. You go to pull, wrapping the locks around your fingers, but your efforts are fruitless.

“You wanna touch? That’s cute. Ask for it, I know you can use your manners, gonna ask to touch me, baby?” He whispers in your ear, his voice deep and gruff and stern. It’s completely rhetorical, he’s demanding you ask. The low purr of his voice sends shivers down your spine, instinctively you move to touch between your thighs, to feel pressure where you need it, but you can’t.

Because Shouta stops you with his stupidly large and strong hands. Because Shouta’s gaze is stern and downright scary. Because Shouta’s dick could be inches down your throat by now, had you just been a good boy, and the promise of that in the future makes you want to pause. Still, you groan, because how dare he deprive you of his dick. How dare he let you sit there, drooling for it and whiney as if that’s not evidence enough.

“You just needed some attention, didn’t you?” Aizawa purrs, unbuttoning your clingy jeans and pulling them past the swell of your ass to place a harsh smack straight across it. You jerk forward, face falling into his shoulder as he laughs at you, condescending and evil and mean. “Needed Daddy to hold your hand, whisper a few pretty words in your ears and give that greedy pussy a stern talkin’ to.”

“Don’t— don’t call it that,” You whisper, weak in the knees and your limbs feel like jello.

“Why not? That’s what it is, isn’t it? Always so ready and pretty, always aching for Daddy’s tongue, fingers.. his cock. Got a perfect pussy on my boy, don’t I? S’a perfect fit.”

His dick springs to life, through the fly of his comfortable pants and twitching against his matching black sweatshirt. Your mouth waters, watching as the brown-pink tip leaks precum, a particularly pretty vein disappearing into the head and wrapping around his shaft. You want to trace it with your tongue, drool all over it and have him force it down your throat while you cry and moan. Knowing Shouta, he’d pinch your nose and watch you struggle to breathe with a sweet smile on his face.

You can hear the faint click of the center console organizer closing, and the loud squelch of lube pouring, but you don’t expect the cool sensation of it being rubbed into your skin. It feels nice against the blazing smack from earlier, but all you can think of is how obscene you must look, whining in your Daddy’s arms while he prods at your hole and squeezes handfuls of your ass. Cool air brushes against your hole, you’re spread out for anyone to see, back arched while you push back on his fingers and moan like a whore.

“Such a greedy hole,” Shouta tuts, smacking your ass once more as a warning to get you to stop moving. You both know if he wanted to he could simply grab your hips, hold you in place and finger your brains out, but he wants you to keep your composure yourself. You said it, anyways. You can handle yourself just fine. “Gonna let me fuck this cunt stupid, baby? Stretch you out like you need it. Don’t rush.”

His fingers curl inside you, moans bubbling in your throat as your hips buck forward, your front clothed and aching. Your eyes roll back, a knot forming in your stomach as your abdomen clenches and his fingers thrust into the same sweet spot over and over and over. You mewl and cry, blabbering nonsense into his ears while he nips at your cheek, calling you a slut for liking this so much, for trying to take his fingers deeper, even once they’ve reached the final knuckle.

“Never. Fuckin’. Satisfied.” He enunciates with particularly sharp thrusts before slowly sliding his fingers out of you, feeling your hole wink around nothing, empty once again. He wipes the remaining lube on his fingers onto your face, watching as your watery eyes blink in delayed confusion. He smiles, sadistically sweet before slapping you across the cheek and pushing his fingers into your mouth, watching your lips curl into a dopey smile. Still, you’re empty.

Too empty.

“Wait.. wait.. Sho’, wan’ more.. c‘mon, give it t’me, please! I can— M’your good boy, m’a good boy..” You sob, wailing in his cock as he pushes his head against your hole. You wriggle down, watching as his strong hands tighten around your waist. He holds you there, thrusting up into your hole to use you like a fleshlight, groaning as your warmth wraps around his big dick, and kisses his tip with velvet.

You squeal, eyes scrunched closed as he raises you up and down as if you weigh nothing, an aching burn in your thighs as you struggle to push down onto his cock.

“Shut up, if they catch you taking a Pro-Hero’s dick like some whore that’s all you’ll ever be known for,” He gasps, spreading your cheeks apart to watch his cock disappear inside you through the side-view mirror. Sticky precum holds you two together, making a particularly sloppy sound when he pulls out completely, then slams back in. “But you’d like that wouldn’t you? Wanna be passed around at an agency, see how many loads you can take in that fuckin’ cunt.”

“M’sorry, Shou— M’sorry Daddy, please..!”

“You’ll take what I give you, brat,” His thrusts grow sluggish and sloppy as you crash into him and pant in his ear, tears streaming down your pretty face as every coherent thought leaves your brain. All you can muster out are jumbled pleas, toes curling as you grab his shirt— how slutty you must look while he’s still fully clothed. “You can handle yourself, right? You’ll cum on this dick with no hands, let Daddy fuck a load into you while you cum since you think you’re such a big boy.”

The knot in your abdomen tightens, your hole fluttering around his cock as Shouta moans, and you feel your body shutter as it briefly goes numb. You’re cumming, your head falls forward as he uses you like a fucktoy, bouncing in his lap with tiny, “Uh, uh, uh”‘s. Your hole grips him like a vice, swallowing his cock impossibly deep until you feel warmth flood your stomach, but before you can ride the high of getting your release, Shouta shoves you down at the hilt of his dick, pumping rope after rope inside you.

You want to cry, ball your hands into fists and beat at his chest because of course, you’re not allowed to cum. Of course, your orgasm is ruined and he gets to huff out satisfied breaths.

So mean.

“I know,” He sighs, breathless and tired as he slowly lifts you off his cock, hissing at the sensitivity. You let him do it, clawing at his shirt with a newfound lack of strength, whining as he catches the cum leaking out of you and pushes it back into your spent hole. He squeezes your ass one last time before pulling your pants and underwear back up, buttoning your jeans as if he didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life and leave you high and dry. “I’m so mean, so mean. I’ll make it up to you.”

Too fucked out to say anything, you let him situate you back in the passengers seat, watching as he buckles your seatbelt for you. Whining, you grab his wrist, letting a sleepy smile grace your lips as he kisses your cheek. You had a lot to talk about once you got home, but he’d let you sleep for now.

“Brat.” He hums, nothing but love in his voice.

Reposting some old art - #1

Back in 2021 August 21st I finished this drawing, I'm still proud of it!! Even tho I notice some errors now, I value the time I spent on this one.

The concept was a Crazy Diamonds night on Mondo's birthday, even if I couldn't finish it on June 9th lol, the entire gang is on an avenue.

I got the design for Mondo's motorcycle from this official cover:

Since he rides Kawasaki, I picked a reference from one of the classic Kawasaki styles, specifically a Z900 RS, the most similar model I could find.

For Daiya, I picked a purple Kawasaki ninja.

Anyways I love Mondo on a huge amount, he's truly my favorite character EVER still nowadays.

Have this small doodle, also from 2021:

Funny to see how my artstyle improved LOL

I think the most frightening emotion of Kokichi in the game is this one

After all his antics, screams and acting, he just

Looks at you

It seems unnatural and empty, and that makes it creepy

And then he does this (sorry)

kazuhina cringe compilation

"we need less sanitized queer stories" yall keep saying fucking she-ra romanticizes abuse. you couldnt possibly handle less sanitized queer stories

KISSES!! (Part 1)

Redraw of one of those kiss memes that were on deviant art back in the day. I drew THE ORIGINAL back in 2017. Yeah, this pairing has been around for 8+ years, OUGH. I’m happy to give it attention again and flesh them out, now that my art and writing have improved (writing still needs work but hey, baby steps).

I really wanted to update this and wow, the difference in style, THE IMPROVEMENT?? ;;;;;;;;

Hope you all like it too!

OTHER THAN A VAMPIRE OBVS i think he would be a hamster! not bc i think that's what he would dress up as for halloween, but bc that's what i want him to dress up as for halloween :) lmao here's also a bonus doodle of him dressed as a bat <3 bc i think he's cute <3