#why is it that when I feel bad about how things went I want someone to literally beat me up?

[lazy4honey]

Hybrids: Wolf x Hare

I saw a post mentioning Wolf hybrid x Hare hybrid where the hare is dominant and I thought “oh a hare hybrid topping a wolf hybrid, cool!” only to discover they meant a power bottom… So this is a hare topping a wolf.

Contains: past tense, second person perspective, fingering, lube, condoms, anal, some dirty talk, a little rough, “pup” and “leveret” instead of “babe”, possibly friends to lovers and also a hate fuck…? NSFW & MDNI

As a buck hare hybrid, your long, powerful legs have already helped you find a good mate for your spring frenzy many years in a row.

And then your frantic performance during that month would scare them away, complaining about how you didn’t listen and should be more gentle and so on — all things you’d explained to them beforehand, which they had explicitly consented to.

Of course, you’d also tried sitting it out once, specifically your first time, but that went so terribly haywire you didn’t want to remember it.

Since the relationships never survived the spring, you’d start looking for a new mate the moment they ended. For this, it was useful to have a friend circle where each friend’s circle overlapped with other circles and then some more. It greatly reduced the chances of fucking yourself through your friends and then ending up with no friends.

However, this year, this well-tried system suffered a bug.

No, not a real bug, not a bug hybrid either — actually, that would have been leagues better than your current situation. Maybe getting fucked by a hybrid in possession of an ovipositor would have been an eye opening sexual experience for you.

This summer, an old friend had invited you to an outing where another old friend whom you hadn’t seen in years brought their partner who in turn brought some of their friends. Among these friends was a red wolf hybrid.

You were introduced to each other and happened to sit together, so you casually chatted a little with him. Finding him pleasant, you felt he would make a good additional connection to your network, and so repressed your solitary nature to talk with him more than you would have otherwise.

The next time you met was a coincidence. Both your friend groups had gone to the same beach and then spontaneously joined together. It was a fun time, and when the red wolf approached you, you were in a generous enough mood to exchange numbers with him.

You met every now and then, more often through your friends holding parties or going to clubs, and over time you became friends.

By autumn, you were close enough to meet alone, taking walks, going out for some coffee, or meeting at the library. It was quiet and cozy, but you still wouldn’t invite him to your home or go to his for watching movies together or such.

Then winter began and January rolled around.

You still hadn’t found a mate for your spring frenzy and were feeling a little anxious.

Actually, there had been a few candidates among the friends of Jules, the red wolf, but every time at the next meeting after chatting them up, they would awkwardly tell your various reasons why it wasn’t possible anymore. The most common reason was that they had already found someone different to mate with and were very happy.

Jules would then pat you on the back, lowering his already deep and sexy voice to comfort you.

But when he showed up on your doorstep on the first day of January with his tail wagging and asking you to be his mate, you suddenly understood—

This guy was doing the same shit as you!

And he was even worse, sabotaging your chances by excluding you when playing matchmaker for his friends!

You slammed the door shut, right in his face, and decided to cut off contact.

It was a pity for the nice time you had spent with him, but a wolf in rut was just as bad as a hare in their spring frenzy, and you weren’t about to get yourself railed by a wolf!

Unfortunately, Jules disagreed.

Ever since that first day of January, who knew how he did it, but he would follow you wherever you went the moment you left your house.

Buying groceries? He was there.

Going to work? Also there.

Shopping? There!

At first, he just wagged his tail. After a few days, he walked closer to you. Then he took every opportunity he could get to stick close to you, to touch you, first your fingers, then your hand, cheek and ears, followed by your sensitive neck, and he even went as far as creating situations where he could sneak touches at your butt and tail. To others, even your closer friends, it looked like you two were a pair.

But that wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back.

It was his dirty talk that started in February.

He would tell you whenever he got hard and the reason why. Be it your thighs outlined by your tight pants, the twitch of your tails and ears, or the way your eyes shone when you had a new idea on how to deceive him so he’d leave you alone, it all seemed capable of arousing him in an instant.

Then came how he wanted to ram his big cock into your tight hole, fuck you until you were all loosened up for him, shove his fat knot inside you and make you cum until you couldn’t anymore while he filled you with load after load of cum and made your belly bulge with his seed.

A few days after voicing these obscene thoughts that you didn’t want to hear, Jules suddenly started calling you Leveret. He hugged you tightly, his hard cock straining against his pants and poking your ass as he confessed in a panic so needy and whiny like you’d never experienced that he’d had a crush on you since autumn. He wanted you completely to himself, the less you talked with others and the more attention you paid to him the happier he was, and for some reason he decided the best way to keep you from dating someone else was by playing matchmaker for them.

It was utterly ridiculous.

You somehow managed to get him off of you and quickly left, wanting to calm down and reorganize your thoughts.

But Jules didn’t give you that chance.

He showed up at your door the next day. Before you could slam the door or scold him, he lunged at you, pressed you into his chest, and kicked the door shut.

Instead of nuzzling your neck like he’d done before, he stared at you, his brown eyes filled with a mix of determination and an attempt at looking pitiful, “Leveret, I didn’t mean to scare or anger you, I-I just like you so much I want to be with you all the time…”

“So you decided to ruin my life?” you frowned at him.

“No! No, I- Leveret, you can do to me anything you want, just let me be with you.”

You doubtfully stared at him. “Do anything I want?”

Jules eagerly nodded, “Yes! Anything!”

“And what if I want to beat you?”

His ears and tail drooped a little, but he tried to play it off. “That’s also fine! Even if you want to insult or punish me, I will accept it.”

You didn’t understand. “Why? It’s obviously making you uncomfortable, and I’m not—“

“Because it’s you.”

You felt your heart miss a beat.

Was this guy serious?

He swallowed nervously, “If-if you don’t want to…”

You closed your eyes for a moment. When you opened them again, you were expressionless. The red wolf stiffened, thinking you were really angry now, when you suddenly threw him over your shoulder, marched into your bedroom, and tossed him onto your bed.

He was still stunned when you pressed down on top of him and held his damned handsome face, squishing his cheeks together.

“Are you sure?” you asked, staring into his eyes.

He slowly nodded.

“Anything?” you asked again.

His eyes shone and you could feel his tail start wagging again as he gave you an enthusiastic nod.

“Well then, my little pup, let’s hope you won’t regret it, hm?”

He shuddered at your words, his eager eyes gleaming with a watery sheen and his cock pressing into your thigh as if he was about to start humping you right in this moment.

Considering he’d annoyed you for almost two months and ruined your search for a mate for even longer, you decided to relieve some of your pent-up irritation.

You roughly removed his jacket and shoes and carelessly threw them aside, then plopped your firm ass down on his crotch, triggering a muffled groan. Following that, you ran your hand down the close-fitting shirt showcasing Jules’ tight muscles, grabbed the hem, and tore it open. You felt his dick twitch against your ass.

“So you like it rough, huh, little pup?”

You leaned down, your hands sliding up his muscular abdomen to his sturdy chest and pinching his nipples. Your face stopped just above his, close enough to kiss if he just raised himself up a little, but your hands pressed down on him, preventing him from touching you and making the red wolf whimper pitifully.

“Then let’s fuck you up,”

“Leveret…”

Jules’ husky murmur was cut short by your biting kiss. Teeth collided and tongues entangled. His paws slowly slid up your powerful thighs and settled on your buttocks, kneading them in a way that his claws dug into your flesh and pulling your tail.

The pain elicited a moan from you.

Before the red wolf could feel happy with himself, you bit him forcefully enough to draw blood. Then you grabbed his wrists, pulling his arms up and securing them above his head.

“Little pup, why are you acting up? Just let yourself obediently get pampered by me, hm?”

“���Mhm.”

You bit his jaw in satisfaction and started making your way down, leaving bites on his rolling throat, his protruding collarbone, and his undulating chest.

His needy pants made you smirk.

Sitting up on his crotch, you let go of his wrists and got off of him. You licked your lips at his adorably confused look and grabbed him to turn him onto his stomach in one smooth motion. Like he did before, you grasped his tail and gave it a good pull. He shuddered and gasped as a tingle ran his tail up his spine and into his balls and dick.

“Leveret…”

You chuckled and held the base of his tail, massaging it while biting along his spine from his neck down to the small of his back, coaxing needy moans and shallow hip thrusts out of him.

Suddenly, your grip on his tail tightened and you pulled his ass up into the air. It was firm and round, with the reddish tail sticking out from his pants’ aperture at his butt cleft. After admiring his form for a moment, you ripped the obstructing pants off of him and found that he had completely foregone his underpants, immediately revealing his balls and his hard cock protruding from its sheath to your view.

Holding against the tail that reflexively pressed down due to his arousal, you leaned closer to examine his small puckered asshole, your breath spraying on the sensitive skin.

Jules trembled and his dick and asshole twitched as his claws dug into your sheets and he desperately breathed in your scent, trying to keep calm but still unable to resist pleading, “Leveret, hurry, do whatever you want, just fuck me, please!”

You bit his ass cheek, inducing another tremble.

“Sure.”

Then, hand sliding down from his tail to his asshole to circle around the delicate skin, you leaned over to your bedside table and retrieved a big tube of lube.

You held it in front of him, “You’re not allergic to anything in there, are you?”

Jules swallowed and focused his gaze on the small writing with some difficulty before shaking his head, “No…”

“Good,”

So you proceeded with opening the tube and squeezing some of the unscented gel onto his asshole and your hand. He shuddered at the cool sensation and hugged your pillow, desperately breathing in your scent in deep pants, seeming unable to relax. You didn’t feel like comforting him, but you didn’t want to really hurt him either, so you slowed your pace.

Holding up his tail with your dry hand, you used the lubed up finger of your other to circle around his puckered hole and gently prodded it. The regular motion allowed the lube to warm up a little and Jules gradually got used to the feeling.

And the moment Jules got used to it, he started causing trouble again.

“Leveret, hurry up, I want to feel you inside me… I’ve thought about how tight and hot you’d feel around my cock so many times, how your asshole would clench around my knot when you come from me pumping you full of my cum again and again and how you would cry when it gushes all out once my knot loosens, and then you’d feel so empty you’d beg me for more, for me to cockwarm inside of you, and— Ah!”

Annoyed, you unceremoniously shoved your finger inside his asshole and wriggled it a little. You felt the muscles of his anus clench around your finger, as if wanting to force the invading thing out, and you chuckled darkly.

“If you want to dream, go to sleep. Today, it’ll only be me fucking you, my little pup. I might not have that fat knot you’re so proud of, but I will certainly make good use of what I have and fuck you senseless. Just imagine you cockdrunk from my railing, begging unintelligibly, not remembering whether you want my dick to fuck you faster or slower. Oh, and once my spring frenzy comes, it’ll get real fun, then I’ll make you unable to even crawl out of bed…”

You whispered in his ear as you pumped your finger in and out of him, adding some more lube so his dry little hole could take you better.

The red wolf groaned and wriggled his hips, making you curl your finger and eliciting a low growl. Jules turned his head to look at you with his lustful brown eyes, and the way his husky voice arranged the words was simply baffling.

“Does that mean I’ll still be with you in spring?”

“…If you can hold on that long, maybe.”

His eyes curved as he smiled, overflowing with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, yet it felt all encompassing.

You stared into his eyes, lost in that strange yet cozy feeling until Jules suddenly hummed and shook his butt, and then you remembered that your finger was still sticking in his butt and what you were about to do had at least the slight flavor of a hate fuck, or maybe rather revenge sex.

“Leveret, please fuck me,” Jules whined and pushed himself further onto your finger, making his voice a little breathy, “I want to know what your cock feels like inside of me, I want you to touch and kiss me, I want…” He panted as he twisted his neck to look at you, “I want you…”

As you wondered if there would ever be a day when his sweet or dirty talk wouldn’t set you off like a firecracker, you squeezed some more lube and pushed a second finger into him.

His breath hitched and his ears quivered, the tail pressing down and almost getting his own fur into his ass. You couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed and soon added a third finger, almost stretching all the folds out of his poor hole. Ass crammed with your fingers, every deliberate push producing squelching sounds, the red wolf’s thighs trembled and he kept whimpering like a wronged puppy.

You sped up your hand movement, your fingers glistening with lube easily sliding in and out of his asshole. Every now and then you would brush against a certain spot inside of him that made Jules clench each time, allowing you to clearly feel the pulse going through his rectum whenever it happened. Gradually, you started targeting that spot, and it didn’t take long before unrestrained moans and whined filled your bedroom.

The thought of it being your cock instead of your fingers enveloped by him, causing him this pleasure, made you hard, and it also made you lose your patience.

You pulled put your fingers with a loud squelch.

He looked at you, both confused and still caught in his pleasure slowly approaching the peak. Then he saw you rid yourself of your clothes, fully revealing your slender yet powerful figure before him for the first time. His gaze roamed over your body, fervently admiring every inch of you before settling on your erect cock.

He audibly swallowed at the sight.

“My, my, so eager, my little pup?” You smirked at him and leaned over, pressing close to feel his heat and bite him a few more times.

Jules whimpered and rubbed against you, clearly eager for more.

So you fished a condom out of your bedside table and bit it open while locking eyes with him. Then you retreated, sat up behind him, and properly put on the condom. You squeezed more lube onto your hand and held his tail up with a tight grip.

“Ready?”

He adjusted himself a little, his buttocks swaying right in front of your eyes as he tried to get a little more comfortable and dug his claws into his own ass cheeks to pull them apart and reveal his loosened hole to you in all its glory.

“…Ready.”

You generously slathered your dick with the lube and smeared the rest onto him, then held his hips and aligned yourself with his entrance. The tip of your cock poked at the loosened, lubed up hole, and you could see it close and open as if breathing, lightly brushing against your glans.

“Leveret, hurry up…” Jules whined and recklessly shoved his ass towards you, incidentally directly impaling himself with half your dick. He inhaled sharply, “Fuck…!”

You felt his ass clench around you and groaned, “Little pup, you’re really impatient, aren’t you? Your greedy little hole is so eager to eat me up, the bite it took was a little too big for you… Ah, I’ve never encountered a pup begging to be fucked so desperately, and by a hare at that…”

While speaking, you slowly pushed your dick inside him. Watching him swallow you was a most arousing sight, enticing you to give up the slow and steady approach and just ram into him, to go balls deep and make his ass jiggle with each thrust, have him cry put until his voice was hoarse like the call of a crow…

His hands holding his ass cheeks shook as you buried your cock inside his asshole. The hot, tight walls of his soft insides squeezed your length and reluctantly clung to you as you very slowly pulled out. It sucked on your glans before being forced to let go, producing a wet plop sound.

Jules whined and wriggled his ass, so you pushed in again, faster this time, moaning when the heat enveloped you. His ass was so tight you felt like it would milk you dry the moment you didn’t pay attention, yet at the dame time you couldn’t wait to loose control and cram yourself inside his hole regardless of everything.

You sped up as your sanity slipped away, your mind echoing with the wolf’s moans and whines that were growing louder and more frequent.

As you pumped in and out, you occasionally grazed that sensitive spot inside him with your glans. Every time it happened, his ass would throb and tighten around you, causing both of you to moan, inducing you to search for that spot and target it once you found it. You wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing him firmly against you as you fucked him, your dick never leaving his asshole before thrusting in again.

Jules could barely hold himself up anymore and, head only filled with desire, reached for his own engorged cock to help a bit. The knot was already swelling up, indicating he was about to cum.

Your thrusts shook his entire body, making his hands basically jerk his dick all on its own. Yet it just didn’t seem to be enough, the pleasure neither releasing nor fading, just constantly building up as you fucked into him.

“Leveret, Leveret, I want to cum…”

You almost couldn’t hear his whines over your own panting and the noise of your naked bodies smacking together, the lube squelching and the bed creaking, thumping against the wall, and you weren’t really clear about what you could do to help him release. So you just did whatever you liked, one hand gripping his waist so hard your nails dug into his flesh and the other following his arm to his cock, teasing his glans, rubbing his knot and kneading his tight balls.

As your climax approached your thrusts grew sloppier and more irregular, almost frantically chasing that high. Then, you came. A wave of pleasure crashed over you, making you tighten your grip on Jules and fiercely bite down on his nape. You felt his asshole flutter around your cock, squeezing more cum out of you while he shot his own load onto your sheets with a loud moan.

The peak of your ecstasy was extended for an unknown time, and by the time your mind returned, you realized you were both panting heavily. Still intimately connected, Jules lay bonelessly in your embrace, unable to hold himself up.

When you pulled your dick out of his asshole, you saw the reddened, stretched hole pitifully contract and relax as if breathing, unable to close properly. The clear lube smearing his ass and dripping down his balls made you regret wearing a condom for a moment, wishing it were your cum making such a mess out of the red wolf, but after a moment of thought, not having hurt him was a much better outcome. After all, like this, you could happily go for another round…

[shakethediseeas]

ALIEN STAGE CHARACTERS WITH AN ALIEN READER

alien stage x reader

maybe ill make more (ivan, hyuna and sua)

CHAFACTERS: TILL, LUKA, MIZI

On your 15th birthday your parents decided to give you a planet as a gift, they took over and made a stage to keep you entertained! its so fun! its humans trying to survive by performing music you've never heard of before.

One day, you decide to visit the garden to take one for yourself and when you saw that figure running by, you knew you want that one.

heads turned at the sound of children going 'woah' as you twirl and walk past them, looking at them as if they were animals in a zoo. two aliens behind you as you keep searching and start getting frustrated-- no one was appealing for you.

just when you were about to turn and head home to complain you finally spot one. they were running after someone with flowers in their hand, and more kids chasing after them.

they stopped when the kid bumped into you, and it went silent. They fell to the floor as you brushed your outfit clean of their filth before pointing down at them.

"i want this one."

to take them of the joy and friends they had in here didnt really matter to you. to you its like picking an animal from a shelter, bringing them to a better home where the only one they would rely on would be you.

that smile you saw before you picked them no longer existed. They were quiet and nervous of getting any negative reaction out of you which only made you mad but you had to be patient with them in order for them to be happy!

'first few months'

how come these humans dont come with a manual because this human was shattering things in rage when they thought you werent home and they hide in a corner so they dont get caught.

You heard of their behavior problems before picking them up, but you didn't care as long as you got to see that smile they had—but since they weren't smiling, you'd have to fix that.

you took Till to visit the garden for a bit, even though your guards were against the idea but who were they to tell you what to do?

He was so happy—the happiest he's ever been since you took him away. When you came to pick him up, he shyly asked if he could ever visit again, to which you nodded.

'you werent THAT bad' is what he thought after you gifted him a custom guitar. you noticed he played with an imaginary one so you decided to build trust and gift him a fancy new electric guitar!

and you still took him constantly to see his friends even though he heard you being scolded for it, that fake argument made him feel more appreciated.

'a few years later'

he jumps to sit down on your bed before demanding to visit a friend who was with their owner, you half listen, too busy painting your nails and kicking your feet in concentration.

mid rant you push the nail polish to his face and say "paint my nails first then ill think about it"

and he does so with a red face.

'first few monthd'

you were pretty sure you were speaking their language so why the hell was this human just staring off into space while drool escaping its mouth. you recoil in disgust and start regretting your decision a bit.

it took you a lot of patience and time to figure out what he likes, you ended up spending a lot of coin on the human for him to at least look at you with stupid big eyes.

you had to spoon feed luka unless you wanted him to starve to death, he couldnt sleep or change properly without you there glaring at him before reluctantly helping him.

you suppose it was okay, if he relied on you too much that would mean he couldn't really leave you, you were in charge.

'.....' though you wished he was a bit more vocal, you thought about it for a long time, if he didnt have the brain capacity to say a nice thank you maybe he could sing for you.

so he did. you bought him whatever you deemed necessary, and he sometimes mentioned another small thing and u gave it to him.

'a few years later'

you dont know why he wanted to sing for anyone else other than you but you allowed it. ever since you took him to see the stage in the VIP section he finally voiced out 'i want to do this' well not really but his face said it.

you get back home, a bit tired and hes tailing behind you as always. you land on the bed exhausted before flicking your hand in the air to signal him 'sing me a song'

after hes done he asks if you requested anything else, noting how tired you looked. but you just shook your head and tell him do whatever you want.

what you didnt expect him to hug you from behind. you couldnt see his face but youd assume its that blank face as always. only he knew that you were wrong.

it was face of pure adoration, a face that said 'you will never leave me' and he held tighter before saying to himself 'im in charge'

oh how you jumped around excitedly at this well behaved human! so sweet, like a cherry, they tried to have a conversation with you by asking "do you like making flower crowns?"

of course you havent who those this human think you are? but instead of saying something like that you shake your head and deny, before asking if they would teach you.

you make flower crowns with Mizi. you demanded to your guards any flowers she would ask for and bring batches of them to her before saying 'where do we start?'

shes happy at first but then you notice that she starts looking a bit sad, you ask her whats wrong and she looks at you with big eyes and says "when will i see my friends again?"

oh well with that sweet face how could you not take her to see her friends every day. and with a big smile she cheers and every day she makes new flower crowns or crafts for them.

'a few years later'

you start thinking 'maybe i spoiled her too much. maybe listening to her every request was a bad idea' as you cross your arms, on your custom designed chair in the center of the audience, the VIP section.

you stare as shes almost shot down by soldiers. you stare as shes taken away from you. you stare at the 'MISSING' message with her face plastered on it.

of course, you knew where she was. you had a tracker on all your pets. but for some reason, you let her run around. it wont be long until she realizes she wont have anyone left anymore.

it wont be long till she realizes she has no one else but you.

[genderqueerdykes]

https://www.tumblr.com/transmascsmatter/773428386465972224/immediately-coming-at-a-trans-masc-with-hostility?source=share

JFC they say this person didn't care about trans women as if them saying women didn't INCLUDE trans women

goddamn. i normally don't reblog posts of that nature but i actually went ahead and did so because it's a live example of transmasc erasure & transandrophobia. i am just so sick of people jumping to silence a transmasc or trans man the second they talk about their issues. i am so tired of the instant derailing of posts when it comes to transmasc issues. and it happens so often i feel like i need to just start showing people. like a lot of stuff on this site sucks but i feel like people need to SEE how bad this is getting, and not just listen to my words without proof.

it's really telling when people see the word "women" and still somehow go "BUT WHAT ABOUT TRANS WOMEN???" like yeah. we are included in women. we don't have to specify "trans women" Every Single Time we're talking about women. we are included in that. we are women. no shit. i don't know why people think trans women are so self centered that we have to see the phrase "Trans Women" to know you're including US when you mention women, but we're not like that. like we do not need you to bend over backwards to remind us of how much you want to look like you support us. we know we're included in women. we. are. women. you don't have to specify "trans women" if we are talking about all women. we understand we're a part of that group.

i'm sorry if this ask and the post are a little different than what i normally post but i just want people to see this behavior. i don't want anyone to get harassed. do NOT bother anyone involved in this post. i want to make it very clear that i never want anyone to bug someone whom i am providing criticism. people need to learn from their mistakes in order to grow. but people also have to accept that they are MAKING a mistake, and i hope that i can help some people understand that this behavior genuinely hurts people.

we're participating in transmasculine erasure in real time when we shut up trans men and mascs for the sake of going "BUT WHAT ABOUT TRANS WOMEN?????" the funny thing about that, is you can write your own post. it's free and takes the same amount of effort as typing up a comment on a post that isn't about you. we HAVE to learn to understand when things ARE and AREN'T about us. we have to stop inserting our asses into conversations that they simply just do not belong to. people have to learn to actually get along instead of talking over each other. enough of this behavior. enough.

it is transmasculine erasure when you immediately force a transmasc or trans man to talk about trans women instead. i don't care if you don't agree with me. it's just the truth.

[aplainmeresimp]

In the Blue Hours of the Morning: Chapter 2 - The Pendulum Swings

Full Fanfic Summary in Chapter 1

Story tags/warnings: pre-season 1, no use of y/n or real world language, strangers to friends to lovers, fluffy, acts of service as viktors love language, academic weapon reader, viktor pov chapters, eventual sky pov chapter, eventual nsfw. unrequited love towards sky :( random oc created for the sole purpose of being a side character. not a song fic, chapters names are just inspired by song lyrics. the only thing viktors insecure about is him being an assistant, he knows he’s fine.

Chapter 2 Word Count: 5.3k

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A nine out of ten.

That's what Professor Penmark gave you on the final. Why, you may ask?

“A smudge on the last page,” he said as he wrote your grade in his class list. Afterwards, he circled the smudge and handed it back to you. You flipped to the last page and it shocked you.

It was miniscule. Barely traceable. A nine would be a blessing for other classes, but to get a nine out of ten over a smudge? Ludicrous. Ridiculous. Fuming with rage, you gave him a smile and said, “thank you for the class, Professor.”

You calmly walked out of his office with your graded project. As soon as you turned the corner, you found the nearest trash can, took your project out of its folder, and dumped it into the trash.

Who’s even named Penmark? It's a noun and a noun. Or a noun and a verb. Might as well be named Professor Asswipe. Same difference with that attitude.

Storming to your dorm, students passed you with a twinge of fear. It seemed like a dark cloud loomed over you. The sun had fully set, giving its final remnants of light as the day came to its end.

How could he lower your grade by ten percent over a smudge? That was a new low for him. You would’ve taken a nine point five, even. It wasn't personal, though. You knew as much. He treated every student equally. Equally as bad. Someone probably had the misfortune of failing. That meant no graduation for them.

Perhaps it was time to count your blessings.

Perhaps not. You thought. I deserved that full score.

Growing closer to your dorm filled you with mixed feelings. Mostly since you didn’t interact as much with your roommates. Your routine was always class, work at the library, work in one of the gardens till late at night, and finally go to your dorm to sleep. You didn’t want to pull your late-night studies with two people sleeping.

It's not like you never interacted, it just became less and less as the semesters went on. Still, they saw you when you went there to take a bath or swap into a different set of your uniform. They understood, but it still stung not being around. You were one of the few people that liked your roommates.

Sky, a bioengineering major, was kind and a little shy. She usually worked in the dorm at her neat desk against the wall stacked with plenty of bullet journals she wrote in. Your first interaction with her was about two years ago during the yearly dorm switch.

She said you could have the first pick when you arrived. That was sweet of her. In return, you picked the worst section in return. The bunk bed with no space to sit in and the communal closet under it with a sad excuse for a desk beside it. It was the least you could do after she made such a generous offer.

Cirsche was the opposite. A bold and extroverted architecture major. Her parts of the dorm gave a pop of color to the whole room. Colorful coasters and floor plans were always scattered across her desk and sometimes yours too. It didn’t bother you, seeing as you were rarely in your room. There were always rags stained with alcohol markers soaking in the small bathroom you all shared.

You clenched the doorknob and swept into the dorm. As usual, Sky sat at her desk in the room, bending over a book and a notebook. She looked up, then at you. “It's a miracle that you’re here.” She did a double take of your face, “Woah, are you okay?”

“No.” The light sound of the shower running contrasted the ruckus your shoes made when you kicked them off.

She got up from her chair, took the folder from your hands, and set it on the table. “Do you… Want to talk about it?”

“If I had seen it I would have fixed it.” Your hands flew up in disbelief, “In fact, I would have remade the entire page!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Sky pulled out the chair from the small desk in the center of the room and asserted, “Sit. Breathe.” She sat on the desk and waited for you.

You closed your eyes, inhaled and huffed, “The teacher gave me a nine. Over a smudge on the project.”

For a moment she seemed shocked, then her face turned calm. It was like she knew what you needed to hear. “But you passed? And was it your last project? Classes are done, right?”

“Yes and yes. No classes left to go to either.” Your anger dissipated little by little.

“Okay, that’s all that matters. Now you just need to focus on the final.”

“I know. I know.” You bit the inside of your lip. It wasn’t anger anymore, it was disappointment. Or at least something like it.

You needed to be great. Not just good enough. Being from somewhere different meant you always had to prove yourself. Set the standard. Undercity people weren’t viewed the same. Over the years, you’d overhear people say things like ‘criminals’, ‘uncivilized’, and ‘them’. It was useful to hide the information of your origins and only reveal it to some people, seeing as not everyone took it well.

Even if you were to keep it discrete, sometimes… Just sometimes, you thought people could sense you weren’t originally from Piltover. Was it overthinking? Maybe. However, deep down, you knew that going to school and practically growing up there meant nothing to the wrong people.

“I understand. You know I do.” Her arms crossed and her head tilted, looking for your attention. “But you already proved yourself. There’s nothing left for you to prove. Do you understand?”

You nodded. It was nice to hear it every now and then.

“Good. Let’s change the subject. I don’t want to see you sad all day.” She got up from the table and went to her desk, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Well…” You unbuttoned your vest. “I wanted to go ask an ex-alumni about the final exam. To get an idea of what it’s going to be like.”

She smacked her forehead, “Ugh, you’re right! I should do that too.”

“Wanna come?” You turned on the room’s light, the night becoming darker by the minute, “I’m starting kind of early tomorrow.”

“I would but the bioengineering final is different.” Sky rolled back in her chair, “I’ll start doing that next week.”

The night grew darker, and your nighttime routines started. Cirsche came out of the shower, you went in and changed into loose clothes to go to bed, and Sky put her notebooks away and cleaned her desk. At a certain point, Cirsche left to get dinner and came back with bowls of rice for everyone. Being with them on the floor, trying not to laugh to not wake the neighbors, and sharing food was as close as you had to a family.

It was an extra special bond. When other people left for the vacation period, you three, along with a few others, chose to stay. Everyone with their reasons. Sky remained to have a place away from the undercity, independence. It was easier for her to stay put and go back to see her relatives. Cirsche just liked living at the university. You couldn’t blame her. It had great access to most transportation, shops, and everything in between.

A few others like you had nowhere else to go. No family or primary home to go to. Your whole life was at school. Morning and night. Semesters and vacation time alike.

You were definitely an anomaly. Rarely did people ask to stay with the same roommates, but the three of you just fit right. The first year cemented your friendship enough to ride it out until the end of university. It wasn’t bad having to share around the clock when your friends turned into your family.

The clock struck ten and it was time for bed.

“How’s the job going?” Cirsche asked you in the darkness from the bottom bunk across the room.

“Not bad. Could be worse.” You replied, already in bed, with the cool breeze from the window inciting you to cover up.

Weirdly enough, it was the whole truth. On the weekends you’d go to a few restaurants and sweep their sidewalks and entryways for a good amount of coins. It was tiring work after ten shops or so, but you needed to afford to eat. The university only gave you a place to stay. Everything else like food, uniforms, school supplies, and transportation was your responsibility. It was fairly nice. Some of the shopkeepers knew you and threw in a baked bun, a hairclip, or a fancy pencil along with your payment.

“Now imagine your next job! Engineer slash scientist!” Sky’s hands spread, showing you her vision.

“I know. I’ll miss it a little though.” You’d miss the people, the reason to get some fresh air. What you wouldn’t miss was having to work as a student.

They said something else you couldn’t pick up. Their words became fuzzy, incoherent. You felt like you forgot to do something as you were trying to reply. Then you stopped thinking and replying altogether. Sweet rest invited you in and you were gone.

The morning came slow and fresh with a spirited breeze, the norm for Piltover. Your ears picked up the sound from the window coming from the courtyard a few stories below. Students yelling and laughing, having enjoyed the morning more than you already. Not long after, your eyes creaked open to an empty dorm. No Sky or Cirsche to be found. There was, however, a note on the side of your bunk.

It read, ‘We tried to wake you for breakfast, but you didn’t wake up. Be back later!’. With a little smiley face on the bottom.

Wake me for breakfast? Isn’t it still early–

You looked at the clock that hung over the door frame.

Eleven thirty in the morning.

Shit.

The day was escaping you already. On weekends you could wake up naturally, no alarm clock needed. It was a skill acquired or rather, a curse acquired from years of academic pressure. Yet, the day you wanted to start early, you forgot to set an alarm and your body decided it wanted to rest more. Nice.

You mentally slapped yourself, knowing that was what you forgot to do. Not wanting to punish yourself any further, you got out of bed and got dressed in your uniform. You took your brown school bag and made your way out.

There was a mental list of the people you knew from last year that could help you.

Emmeline, Theodore, Dorian, and Itsel. All recent graduates from engineering and with jobs even before they graduated, which they were still at. They were all nice enough when you spoke to them a few times during orientation week. You hoped they could give you some pointers at least. But first, you had to get into town.

You took a group carriage to town to save some time. The inner parts of the city always exuded a faint glow, it seemed. Streets, buildings, and even people were lined with the best metals. Gold, iron, you name it. Even something as simple as a fence was perfectly crafted, symmetrical, and welded to fit together as one.

As soon as you got off the carriage, the walking began. The trip was exhausting. All on foot. The paved streets made it bearable, but the inclination upwards to certain places didn’t help.

You arrived at their workplaces one by one, and each time, you chatted with them for a bit and then mentioned what you needed:

“I need help tomorrow or in two days or so for the final assessment coming up. It would be a huge help to me if you could even though I know they change the test every year. It would be nice to know how broad the topics get. I’ll buy you lunch for it if you can!”

Sadly, their answers were kind but not exactly what you hoped to hear.

Emmeline said, “Sorry, I would but I have work and then I have to get home and wait for the plumber.”

Then came Theodore, “I can, just not tomorrow. Does next week work?”

Dorian responded, “I’m busy for five days or so in the evening, I have to babysit.”

And finally, Itsel, “Oh goodness! I’m so sorry! I’m leaving town today for a work trip.”

It was time to cut your losses. You thought you could wait for Theodore next week. Then again, you would either lose time by not studying.

I’ll just start studying now. Might as well. Something is better than nothing. You thought.

It was better to start now with no guidance than to not start at all.

However, there was a whole major to review. Every day counted. But studying everything would be too much content for a month of studying or less. That’s why you needed someone to help you narrow it down.

Whatever. I’ll start studying and if Theodore’s free still by next week he can help.

By the time you made it back to the academy, it was already three o'clock. Bad timing for sure. Students were getting out of class and rushing to the library to snag the tables and chairs. It’s not like you could grab a book and leave. Every single year during that month, without fail, everything was scarce. Chairs, seats, books, encyclopedias, even floor space.

So you ran.

Entering the building was chaotic. The main hallway on the first floor was packed with students and teachers. If you were to get there first, you had to find a shortcut. You looked to your left to the staircase and sprinted. A step or two were skipped in the process, but with a generous amount of stairs present, it was necessary. Winded from the run you walked through the third floor. Thankfully, it was almost free of students.

You whispered to yourself as you picked up the pace again, “Okay. I need a mathematical fundamentals book first. I hope the first semesters don’t take them all.”

You checked your bag for everything you needed for a long study session. Notebooks to write in, money for a snack or two, erasers, a ruler, and–

Oh, Janna.

There were no pens or pencils anywhere in your bag. You kept looking for one in denial. Hell, even a stubby one. Anything! Going back to your dorm for some would set you back ten valuable minutes at least, if you were to go fast. Although, you were going fast.

You just didn’t notice how fast you were going.

There has to be one in here–

“Careful!”

WHAM!

Your perfect quick pace was interrupted by a slam onto your abdomen. A rain of metal clangs sounded through the corridor as you fell backward. In between the pain, you noticed the person's shoes.

Another student.

“Oh. It’s you again.”

You looked up, wincing. It was the professor's assistant going into his lab.

What was his name again? Vincent? Viktor! Right.

“Yep. It’s me. Hi.” You grunted as you stood up. He offered his hand but you didn’t take it, putting your hand up, “I got it. Thanks.” You dusted yourself off and started picking up the tools that flew everywhere. “Sorry about that.”

“Be careful next time, otherwise I think you’ll walk off a balcony by accident one day.” Viktor slowly kneeled, holding onto the cart to pick up one of the wrenches on the ground. You handed him the rest of the tools and he set them with the others. It wasn’t exactly organized. Well, it probably was before you rammed into it.

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

He started pushing the long metal cart into the lab once more, “Good to see you again.”

“You too.” You answered, rubbing your stomach in pain and walking away.

Sheesh. What a hit… Wait–

In an instant, your mind stacked a thought. An idea. A potential.

“Hey!” You turned on your heel. “Wait!”

The large door was about to close and then it stopped. A brief moment passed and Viktor peeked from the entry.

You sighed in relief. “Could I ask for a huge favor? If it’s not too much trouble, that is.”

He looked confused, then motioned you into the lab that mesmerized you the day before. You skipped towards the lab and he closed the door behind you. The place was lightly organized but still maintained Heimerdinger's charm with its pinch of chaos. Viktor sat down at the tall table in the middle and started transferring his tools to it.

“About the favor…” His voice was calm. “Would the favor include not crashing into the equipment?”

Man, you felt like he was rubbing it in. You smiled awkwardly. “Now it will.”

“Ask, then.”

You stayed near the door, only seeing him slightly from the side. “I’m having my final assessment soon.”

His head nodded once, and he said, “Your equation results went well, I assume?”

“Well…” You cringed. It wasn’t untrue, but it wasn’t what you expected.

He turned back to you, eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide. “Was there something wrong with it?”

“Not at all. I got a nine out of ten.”

“What? Why a nine?” His eyes shifted, looking for a reason. Viktor turned back to the tools with his hand on his chin. “It was efficient. Near perfect even.”

You huffed and mumbled, “Penmark said there was a smudge.”

“A smudge? Where?” He turned back again, with even more energy this time. This was a completely different person from the one you met the day before. He was entirely expressive. His expression was a mix of offended and flabbergasted.

“That’s what I thought. It’s barely noticeable.” At least you knew you weren’t going insane. That teacher was being overly strict.

“Is the favor getting him fired?” Viktor’s eyes narrowed.

Your eyes widened. “I didn’t say that… I don’t want to deal with him anymore, so it’s fine. He probably has a family. I wouldn’t want to get someone fired over nothing personal.”

His eyes returned to normal, and an almost untraceable smile was present when he returned to his task. “So then, what’s the favor?”

“Like I said, my final assessment is soon. I need help from someone who has already graduated to give me an idea of what to expect or how it goes.” Your mind wandered, remembering your failed attempts, “I went to every single upperclassman I knew, and they were all busy. Then I ran into you, and here we are.”

Viktor looked at you. “So you assume I’m not busy.” No emotion was on his face. Nothing. Not even a blink. He looked away.

Fuck.

Your hands waved frantically, and your words fell out in rapid succession, “No! I meant that I exhausted my options and I happened to run into you. More like crashing– Anyway, that's not the point–”

Any words you had planned to say halted. You saw Viktor’s head slightly tilted towards you. A small, barely traceable smirk was present on his face.

He wasn’t serious.

“You’re messing with me, right?”

He snorted.

First, a wave of relief washed over you. You were glad you didn’t offend him. Then came astonishment. He barely knew you, and he had the gall to make you socially panic?

“You had me there for a second.” You crossed your arms.

“I did, yes.” In his voice, you could hear a smile still present on his face.

“I was also planning on buying whoever said yes some lunch. I’ll be in the library today. Please let me know if you can.” You made your way to the door. “I know you are busy, but if you could please help me, I’d be extremely thankful.”

“Eh… I’ll make time.”

You looked back in shock, “So you’ll help me?” Was this it? You found someone willing to help? Who would have guessed that crashing into someone would become something good?

“Yes. Coffee would be nice. It could be at the Academy if you prefer.”

The university's coffee wasn’t bad, but not great. And very overpriced for its taste. You opted for something else, “Do you know a place outside of the university?”

He turned in his chair and searched for a memory with his eyes. “There’s a small coffee shop around Midtown I’ve been to before. How about there?”

“Sure, I can meet you there.”

“I’m available tomorrow after three o’clock. We could meet there at four.” Viktor scanned his eyes across the table until they landed on a pen. With a soft click of its end, he prepared it for writing, “It’s called ‘Cogs of Coffee.’ Brown brick with a gear behind the sign.” He tore one of the corners of a sheet of paper, wrote it down, and handed it to you, “Hard to miss.”

You walked a few steps toward him and took the paper. His writing was fancy and slanted, with some letters connecting, bordering on cursive.

“Cogs of Coffee…” You read and nodded, “Yeah, I know where it is. See you there at four then?”

“Four it is.”

The walk back to your dorm was relieving. Finally, someone who could help. You were definitely going to buy him coffee in the best mood possible. The library could wait. You were already out of luck for a spot anyway. For now, you could rest without guilt. Hell, you even had a smile on your face as you pranced to your dorm.

Sky was cleaning her desk when you came in. She raised an eyebrow with a smile, “Someone looks happy. And rested.”

“Yes, very.” You were practically beaming. Even putting your things away felt fun and light.

“Were any of the upperclassmen available to help, then?”

“Something like that.”

After having some security, the day flew by in a blink. As did the night.

You knew you could pass the final, but you didn’t want to risk it. You had an even bigger chance to make it. Thanks to the kindness of an upperclassman you barely knew. Among your thoughts, you hoped to live up to the potential your parents knew you had. You hoped to have a stable job, and contribute something to the world. It all felt so close.

The next morning was pleasant. You didn’t know if it was the weather or your mood. Honestly, you couldn't care any less. You were solely focused on getting to Midtown for lunch. With your bag packed with the same notebooks from yesterday, but now accompanied by pens, you headed out.

Midtown was always full no matter the season or the hour. The area always bustled and sang with hundreds of people roaming through its endless shops and vendors. Everything was always on sale. Whatever you were looking for, they had it. Books, pens, tools, pets, clothes, you name it. The most remarkable thing about it was the food. Heavens, the food.

You hadn’t ever gotten around to trying everything because of the sheer amount of food that was available. There were shops, tents, and carts ready to offer you the very best of the best. All the cooks seemed to be masters of their craft. The best thing ever had been mashed potatoes and gravy from a cook from Bilgewater. Holy smokes. It was the right consistency, the perfect amount of spices.

Now it was time to try a new coffee place. You’d been to a few before, but never the one Viktor suggested. In between the crowds of people, you looked for the shop. Gear behind the name. Brown brick.

After a block or two, there it was on a corner. Cogs of Coffee. It had a golden sign, as they usually were in Piltover, with large arched windows on its sides. Its quaint white door waited for you in the center. A light bell rang as you walked in, being greeted by a sweet smell mixed in with the strong coffee scent. The floors were dark polished wood and its walls dark green and plastered in framed newspaper headlines, insect mounts, and flower presses.

Not many people were in it, to your surprise. The ten tables were only a third of the way filled, and the booths were empty. All but one.

A voice calling your name came from the booths on the left side of the shop. Viktor sat with his hand up giving half a wave. You waved as you shuffled to the booth and scooted in, “Have you been waiting long?”

Viktor rolled up the sleeves of his uniform, “Eh, just a few minutes. The waitress already brought a menu.” He slid it towards you, “If you want to look it over.”

“Thanks, I will.” You took off your bookbag and skimmed through it.

The menu was simple, albeit pretty extensive. Some of the options were:

Honeyfruit Tea (Cold Brew)

Kiwa infused coffee

Regular coffee (Custom preparation)

Chocolate biscuits

Sweetmilk muffins

Non-Poro Poro Snax

Milkshakes (Chocolate, Vanilla, Berry)

“I recommend the sweetmilk muffins. The regular coffee is great too,” Viktor interrupted.

You tilted your head at the menu. “They sound good. We can order them.”

One of the waitresses came to your table with a smile and her blonde hair in a messy bun. “Good afternoon, I’ll be your server for today! Are you two ready to order?” Her hand waited on her paper pad.

Viktor went first, “Yes, thank you. I’ll have the, uh, regular coffee, with the sugars and glasses of milk on the side so we can mix it here.”

“Sounds good.” She wrote in her notepad and turned to you with a practiced smile. "And you?”

“I’ll have the same.” You looked at the menu one last time, turned to her, and said, “and an order of sweetmilk muffins. Please.”

“Alright! So, two coffees and the muffins.” She tapped the edge of her notepad as she went through the short order. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she held her hand out for the menu. “If there’s anything else, let me know!”

The light conversation and clinks from cups filled the brief silence as the waitress left. Viktor rested his hands on the wooden table and asked, “did you bring a pen and paper?” His voice pulled you out of the hum coming from the mixture of noises.

You scrambled for the items. “Oh, yeah.”

Viktor spent the time elaborating on how much time the test would last, the rules, and the sections of the test. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before from teachers, but hearing it from another student in more casual words made a world of difference. There would be three sections that never changed: Language, theoretical mathematics, and applied engineering. Applied engineering was what worried you. He said it was more about logic rather than calculating, which made it very subjective.

By the time your order came, he had gotten to the interesting bit: The potential subjects.

He thanked the waitress and continued. “Don’t stress about the minor subjects in topics. Focus on the main part of a topic.” Starting to pour some beige milk into his coffee, he explained, “for example, you have topic one, right? And the topic has sections, with each section elaborating more as you go on. Stick to the first two sections, which are the most important. I noticed that when I took it.”

“So… I should just study the general part of every topic?” You took a bite of the golden muffins. By Janna, they were amazing. Creamy and fluffy all at once. Surprise was plastered all over your face.

“If I’m honest,” he stirred his coffee, if you could even call it that, since it was ninety percent milk. “I don't think you need to study as much. Heimerdinger says you're bright enough.” Viktor raised his eyebrows at you and took a drink.

He did?

What a compliment. The founder of the city thinking you were competent wasn’t something you expected.

“He said that? When?”

He sighed from the taste of his drink. “I asked him to leave earlier today to come here with you. He mentioned you were one of the best in class.”

“Wow.”

“He also added that even if that was the case, it was good you looked for extra help.” Viktor looked up, trying to remember. “Eh, something like... A stitch in time saves nine.”

You smiled and replied, “the professor and his metaphors.”

“Still, don't overwork yourself. You have enough time. Worry when you have none left.”

You wrote down all of his advice, and at the bottom of the page, you wrote: You’re smart, relax.

At a point in the afternoon, you began talking about mundane things. You learned Viktor was a work-study student in the master’s program, working on his invention as his thesis. He couldn’t say what it was because of confidentiality, but that when it was done, it would be on display if you were interested.

Amidst the conversation, a little question rang in the back of your mind.

Is his name with a ‘C’ or with a ‘K’?

You decided to ask. “By the way–”

He looked attentive until the waitress came by with a smile and stopped you both. “Are you two doing good? Would you like the check? Or not yet?”

Viktor looked at you, asking the same question in silence. You nodded with a shrug.

“Yes, please. The check is fine,” he said, handing the waitress his empty mug and yours. “Thank you.”

You hadn’t even realized you had finished your drink.

“I have to get back soon.” Lifting his sleeve, he checked the time on a thin brown watch. “I need to pick up some ball joints for the project I told you about.”

“Yeah. It's getting late. I have to run too.”

The waitress walked to your booth as you looked around for your wallet. Just when you found it, you looked up, and Viktor had placed the amount with some tip in the folder for the waitress. She took it, told you to have a nice day, and left.

You were speechless. The whole point was for you to pay as a thank you, and he didn’t let you do that. “Wasn’t I supposed to buy you the coffee?”

He looked puzzled. Then he understood. “I wasn’t doing this for coffee.” Viktor stood up and took his cane. “I just wanted to help.”

“Thank you, really. For the help, the coffee, and muffins. Good recommendation, by the way.”

You both walked out of the coffee shop and were greeted by the same busy street as before, only less sunny.

Viktor took his cane from his right hand to his left and extended his hand toward you. “If you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”

You shook his hand and chuckled. “Thanks. I promise I won’t crash into you if I come looking for you.”

“I’d appreciate it.” He smiled.

Viktor waved down a carriage going in the opposite direction of the university.

Before he could leave, you interjected. “Oh. One last thing.”

He looked back at you. “Hm?”

“Are you any good at explaining math?” you asked.

“I tutor in the evenings for the Academy twelfth graders and the university's first-year students. So you tell me.”

“Oh, so you tutor, too? So… no fourth-year students?” You didn’t want to be too forward by saying you wanted to go.

Thankfully, he caught on to what you meant to say. “You can come, if that's what you’re asking. I see various topics. It’ll jog your memory. If you have something specific you want to cover, I can do that too.”

The open carriage came to a stop for him, and he gave a silver coin to the driver. He opened the door and stepped onto it.

“That would be great.” Amazing, actually. You didn't necessarily need the tutoring, but the extra practice was always useful.

He sat down, and the carriage started to move. “Room fifteen in Wing Five. Seven o’clock in the evening.”

You raised your voice to confirm. “Got it. Fifteen, Wing Five.”

[ndrv3expert1]

The ending of Danganronpa V3: Not the cliché twist people think it is.

Probably the most controversial part about V3 is the ending. I love it. I love it so much I have a shirt of it. I can see why others don’t somewhat but at the same time I’m like why?

Many people say the fact the game is fiction makes it meaningless, but I strongly disagree. I understand that an 'it was all fake' or 'and then they woke up' ending is annoying and overused and, depending on what happens in the piece of media, just bad writing, but DRV3 isn't one of those endings.

And if you do believe the game was meaningless, then congrats you fell for Tsumugi's lies, hook line and sinker.

In the sixth trial, Shuichi talks about how even though the game was fiction, it still hurt him to see the people he cared about die.

Even though they are being told that everything they went through is meaningless, it is real to them; if they feel sadness and anger and love, it’s just as real; it’s just as meaningful as in the real world.

Another thing is the theme of the whole game is truth vs. lies, so wouldn’t it make sense for the final twist to be that what they thought was the truth is a lie?

In the first two games, the final trial ends with a battle of hope vs despair where hope always triumphs and despair is crushed, but in V3 it’s different.

Tsumugi wants them to continue the game. The fans want them to continue the game.

Choosing hope—sacrificing someone to go on to the next killing game—will just cause the cycle to repeat, but choosing despair is also bad; it causes people to give up and lose everything.

Shuichi doesn’t want Maki (and Kiibo) to have to go into another killing game, but they also don’t want to fall into despair. So he refuses to vote, and as much as Tsumugi begs and pleads, he stands his ground.

The viewers also refuse to vote, proving that fiction does have the power to change reality, a powerful message that is one of the main reasons this ending is so great.

Even though Shuichi Maki, and Himiko were fictional characters, they changed the outside world and stopped a whole franchise, a whole movement, and in real life, fiction can spread ideologies, beliefs, and concepts, and these things can spread to people like wildfire and bring people together in ways that normal methods, (like by mouth,) cannot.

That's why artists try to put messages in their art, musicians in their music, and directors in their movies and TV shows. They know that's the type of media that will have the most reach and spread the fastest.

Or even social media spreading information; it might not be the best source, but it still spreads rapidly.

Media has influenced our way of life for years, influencing our speech, thoughts, and cultures because of what it says; this is what V3 is trying to show.

Shuichi also talks about using his friends deaths and the lie of the killing game to change the world.

This is why it matters; this is the power of fiction.

Shuichi using his friends' deaths, which may have been seemingly useless anyway, to take down the show that has trapped them in a cycle of deceit and forced them to play their game.

It’s also great when you remember that Shuichi was afraid of finding the truth, and Kaede and Kaito helped him gain more confidence.

He vowed to Kaede he would end the killing game, and this man not only found the biggest truth ever, he not only ended the game, but ended the whole franchise.

If that's not character development, I don’t know what it is.

Another reason people hate the ending is the portrayal of the fans, the fans are portrayed as Danganronpa obsessed, and they are shunned by watching the senseless killing of people for entertainment.

It’s a world where everyone has become so desensitized to kids getting killed on TV that they gather around screens all over the world eager to watch the next installment; that’s why there are 53 seasons.

The fans in the ending are an exaggerated view of what Kodaka feared would happen.

It's not trying to bash the fans of today but the fans of the future if this continues and we don’t care about the deaths anymore, and we just want more because you can have too much of a good thing.

It also has good messaging about fans (and corporations) tearing a TV show or game series apart in compensation for more, deriving it from the original message.

For example, Squid Game a show about the flaws of capitalism and exploitation for entertainment, was remade into a reality show by Netflix, Mr. Beast, and Amazon Prime to capitalize on the success of Squid Game when it first came out, actively hurting real people in the process, just for the sake of making money.

The ending of V3 reminds us that the connections we make and the experiences we have give our lives meaning. And even if we only affect one person with our actions, it will be all worth it, and that's the greatest truth of them all.

It’s about freedom, the problems of beating a piece of media to death just to have more, using deceased loved ones' wishes to help move forward, and finding meaning in the things that seem meaningless.

The V3 ending is a roller coaster of emotions and a masterful experience. It serves as a great ending to a great series that keeps you on the edge of your seat, makes you feel sympathy for some fictional characters, and still holds up even eight years later.

I don't think this rant/analysis will fix the wedge in the fandom this ending has caused (we've argued about much more ignorant things in the past.) But I hope it at least resonated with you and re-kindled elements you remember loving about the ending for people who did enjoy it; and for those who didn't I hope this gives you some insight into why I and many others appreciate the ending.

So before your start to conclude that V3's ending was meaningless think to yourself-is that the truth or just the lie you were meant to believe.

[dykedvonte]

Ty for answering my asks! Recently, I saw some fanart of the gender bendered crew and it got me curios, how much would the plot change if Jimmy was a woman. I mean, she would still be emotionally abusive (esp to Fem!Curly), but at lest, I guess, the crash would've never happened (?)

Also, her relationship w/ Anya: if she was assulted still, it prolly would've been dissmissed, since it's between 2 women. Or, if Anya is male in this scenario, he couldn't really be able to talk abt it, since society decided that "women can't r*pe men", so it's not serious and he should suck it up. Man, it's just sucks to be Anya in any scenario my poor girl 😭

What do you think? If you have an opinion on that at all, that is

-💀

I think the scenario's where the gender was flipped or any level of gender based intersectionality is expanded makes it so much more complex.

If this is the scenario with fem!Jimmy, it comes with the territory of questionable internalized homophobia. Does Jimmy brush it off in this scenario because she doesn't think lesbian encounters are real ones? Is she struggling with her identity and taking it out on Anya who may be openly queer compared a fem!Curly who is either straight or just not interested in Jimmy? Perhaps it's a sort of weird entitled that can occur in female dominated spaces "We're both girls, I know what you have, it won't matter." It's still is something I don't see Jimmy denying in this scenario, he never really denies it in canon just talks around it with Curly. Here I can see it's less about the pregnancy and more so about the internalized homophobia. Not seeing Anya as anything but an unwanted aspect of her femineity and the allure of it, there's a lot more objectification of both Curly and Anya in this alteration as I would believe feels better thinking of them in that light if they are just fodder in her mind. Guilty pleasures that no longer bring her such. It's a careful situation because I don't want this to fall into predatory lesbian stereotyping, Jimmy is just a person who does not respect other people or their choice, if it conflict with what he wants or perceived is owed.

The idea of Curly having to report it and outing her not only as a rapist but queer and the denial, especially in the case Anya and Curly are both out as she feels a sort of resentment she can't be secure with herself that way. If it is masc!Curly, there could be the jealousy of him being able to actively pursue relationships he wants while she feels she can't, Anya and Curly playfully flirt, its casual but it's something she longs for in the same way she doesn't. She obsesses over Curly because she wishes she could be Curly in a social sense in both aspect male or female Curly.

If it's fem!Jimmy and masc!Anya? It's a much more delicate situation. In this scenario Jimmy gets pregnant. Maybe Anya does a blood test after the incident and finds out Jimmy is pregnant. It's a very sensitive matter because if it's fem!Curly her first assumption is Anya may have done something. That is just the immediate assumptions in cases like this. I think the fact that Anya is telling her would make Curly think it's not that simple, especially since Jimmy isn't brining it up or really caring but everyone reacts differently. Jimmy is pregnant however, and that's a big deal, she'll figure that out eventually on her own but how will she react? Curly knows it won't be good, Anya knows too.

I think the crash is instigated in this scenerio by fem!Curly actually doing more, refusing to sweep it under the rug because she can conceptualize that fear, likely she and Jimmy are the only girls on board. She trusts everyone, well did trust everyone, but it's just something you live with. She can't just live with that double standard but I feel like she really doesn't know how to address it. How does she bring it up to superiors without implicating Anya? What does she do with Jimmy, it still feels like she's catering to Jimmy but now the concern is primarily focused on the life this baby will be born into. If it is born at all. I don't think Jimmy would try to kill Anya in this concept but try to spin the narrative it was mutual up until she got pregnant. Curly doesn't really buy it but it's a lot of processing, a lot more he said she said but what Jimmy is saying just doesn't make sense. It gives Jimmy too much time to really settle with the fact she's pregnant and likely can't support a kid nor wants to give birth out in space. Jimmy feeling like she's being othered from the only other woman could also be a factor, maybe even starting into her thinking Curly is behaving like a "pick-me" for siding with a guy over her. The crash is more spiteful in terms of having to protect herself alone, due to Curly not outright supporting her delusions.

It really adds a certain horror to Jimmy's pregnancy hallucinations because after the crash they are about her, her symptoms the sign of showing. She doesn't want the child either and considering what being pregnant can do to your mental/physical state, especially some of the more negative symptoms, I doubt she is handling it well. A lot of Anya's struggles are with the stigmas around male victims. His body reacted so did he want it? He's gonna be a father and courts likely will make him pay or care for the baby even if they take Anya's side, their world is just like that. Would the other's blame him for not doing more, he is a man after all? Should he be considered lucky a woman was that into him? It's eating away at him because not only does he not feel safe, he actively blames himself.

In the case Curly is still a cis guy, its that weird feeling guys often get when talking about male victims of assault. I don't think he'd victim blame but he likely asks or thinks about how it could've happened, why wouldn't Anya just overpower Jimmy? Maybe he couldn't? Maybe Anya didn't have it in him to strike a woman. He wouldn't. Now he thinks of what he would have done if Jimmy did something like that to him. SImilary to my trans!Curly post, he's wondering if it could've been him. It's likely one of the first times in his life he has to think of that type of vulnerability in terms of himself and other men and against likely his girl best friend. I think that arm pat right before Jimmy crashes the ship would really make him feel weird, not like he'd have the time to really dig into those feeling but y'know WERE GONNA CRASH!!!.

In terms of Jimmy and Curly's specific relationship, it just gets messier if they aren't both guys or girls. There's a lot of misogny on Jimmy's side with fem!Curly. He often points out she's a woman captain or makes a point of her being one of the few independent woman in her field and how certain men hate that. It's insidious but Curly doesn't think about or like to cause she likes to believe Jimmy isn't one of those guys. He can be a bit antiquated, maybe a bit of a pig but no ones perfect! Here a lot of his resentment is more gear toward a woman having that power over him as Captain/filling the typical male roles he fails at. He can't stand that she's above him in almost aspect and he likely takes it out on other women. Similarly, fem!Jimmy and cis Curly is just as bad. It's a fact of not knowing if she wants to be him, wants him or wants to destroy him. It's obsession without anything positive. She feels entitled to his space and life and time and he has a hard time setting up boundaries cause, well, Jimmy's a girl, his bestfriend and it comes with all the stigmas around boygirl best friends. To him it's a sort of oppressive doting, he feels wrong telling her not to pick and like he's being controlling. That's how she'd spin it whenever he'd try to make boundaries with her.

They are still just friends but most people can't tell even if they can tell it's not healthy, in both cases. Either way I feel like if they were opposite genders to each other there would a specific infatuation Jimmy would have with Curly that would be less hidden but sort of unaddressed because the idea of Curly rejecting them would make them lash out in a way Curly may just leave for their safety. It's also Jimmy wouldn't want to be with Curly specifically but just want what would consistently provide/available.

If they are both girls, its envy. It's that sort of hate that someone fits the standards you don't, wanting them to be picked second or crack. She likes to get into Curly's head, point out flaws and act like it's just her being helpful. She wants Curly to be a girls girl but only for her. There's a sort of possessiveness like purposely jeopardizing relationships because why would a man come first? That girl hates me and is a pick me, why are you friends with her still, Curly? Like this is silly but think about how Regina George treats Gretchen Wieners and that's effectively how fem!Curly and fem!Jimmy would work but technically Curly has the sway of Regina.

I believe the crash would always happen. Jimmy would try to escape responsibility or really thinking about what they did in any world, any gender. It's about facing the consequences, losing things he refuses to let go of or having to deal with responsibilities he's not ready for. The switching of sex or gender really doesn't change those core aspects.

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[talkorsomething]

want to cut my hair again like you wouldn't believe. What are the possible consequences of going bald

[donovankinard]

maybe it's time for me to move on.............

[tasmanianstripes]

People need to practice minding their own damn business

Don't come into people's inboxes giving unsolicited advice or criticizing their personal stuff. Don't reblog somebody's posts saying how much you hate it and their opinions.

Don't like somebody's characterisation, AUs or the kind of art they post? It might even annoy you?

Okay, cool. Go make your own post. Block them. Be a little hater about it to your friends. It's good for your soul!

But don't be goddamn rude to people. Don't make it their problem.

"I don't like what this artist likes mah mah mah"

Here's a wild idea;

Artists...don't need to cater to you. You are not entitles to their work. Nobody on the internet should coddle you and post only stuff you like.

Shocker, I know.

[phagodyke]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

[theevilicecreamsoda]

I think i ever processed anything that happened from 2021 to now like ever

[tearueful]

I'm sorry, what.

...what the fuck do you mean he doesn't deserve to be charged?

He gunned down a man in cold blood in the street.

You have lost the plot if you're trying to make this man a hero. No one gets to have a little murder as a treat.

No one needs to shed one tear for a murdered CEO, but don't pretend like the act itself isn't deplorable.

Please do highlight how fucked up and greedy UHC is, please do continue to circulate and promote the injustice they've caused. Please do continue to highlight how America's private health care system is utter garbage.

-but if you're justifying murder? You're not on the good side. That man didn't kill that CEO for a GLORIOUS REVOLUTION. He killed him for attention and he did it effortlessly because we live in a nation seeped in gun violence.

well, they found him. and unfortunately, he’s a bit weird. posted a bunch of stuff on X. politically extremely hard to pin down. i just want to remind you all—standing united against megacorporations should not be, and does not need to be, a political position. we can disagree with the suspect on other issues and still believe he doesn’t deserve to be charged. let’s demonstrate that this issue transcends other political squabbles

say it with me, everyone: “I’m not interested in engaging with the Culture War. I’m interested in engaging in the Class War. We can argue about that other, petty stuff once multi-billion dollar companies aren’t allowed to kill people indiscriminately under the law anymore.”

[antediluviansteel]

.

[snekdood]

ig my problem with the whole bullying thing is that so many of the leftists who do it self identify as communists of some type or really emphasizes community.... but clearly doesn't care about actually cultivating an environment where everyone in the community feels safe and welcome..........