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docoRonpa

round2
#COMING SOON#ISH#my art#danganronpa#dangan ronpa#oc#dangansona#fangan ronpa#fanganronpa#docoronpa#docoronpa r
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God you can't get enough of Docoronpa (which is perfect cause neither can I)
Its my annual self harm ritual
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Ice Skater died how she lived…serving cunt
She really is my goat
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[ STROBE WARNING ]
SOMETHING BAD'S COMING THIS WAY
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[ STROBE WARNING ]
SOMETHING BAD'S COMING THIS WAY
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And when sailor makes his return with an eye patch and fulfills the pirate look YUPPPPP
You know me too well
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DOCORONPA R

EPILOGUE
As glistening confetti rained down from the ceiling, Drummer was hit with a sudden wave of relief. Was it really over?
Choosing to not get ahead of herself, Drummer stomached this excitement as she eyed the exit. Following the shock they'd just endured, it took a few moments for her words to reach her lips:
"...Should we leave?"
Drummer scanned anxiously for her peers' reactions. Rebel had gone non-verbal at this point, his head held alongside the empty pistol in his hands.
A cursory glance down at Bartender showed she wasn't finished with her pathetic display, whimpering as she clawed at the center podium. No luck.
After a few more agonizing moments of silence, Personal Trainer stepped up to answer Drummer:
"I... I guess."
Welder pulled a stilted shrug, still visibly shaken by what they'd just endured:
"I think we have to, right?"
After a few more meandering comments, Rebel pushed the discussion along:
"If we're leaving then let's just fucking leave. We don't gotta discuss it."
Despite his mannerless delivery, Drummer knew he was right. They were wasting time waiting around.
Drummer cautiously exited her podium. Her contemporaries followed her lead, everybody gathering just outside the exit. Everybody except one.
Bartender remained crumbled in the center of the courtroom, desperately scratching at the floor. Even after all she had done, it was hard not to pity her in that moment.
Drummer, strangely enough, called out to her:
"You coming with?"
Bartender hissed back through blocked up tears:
"W-with you? With the fu-ucking peasants? As if."
Rebel grunted:
"You heard the bitch, let's go."
Drummer stayed put:
"I don't think he's gonna come back for you. You're gonna die here if you don't come."
Bartender protested:
"I'd rather starve and die and rot than spend another minute with you losers."
Drummer turned to PT with a smirk:
"Sounds like we found the perfect punishment."
Without a second thought, Personal Trainer descended upon the fallen traitor. Taking a struggling ankle in each hand, she unceremoniously dragged Bartender to the exit.
Rebel rolled his eyes, his only remark being:
"Whatever, she'll be the last to eat."
With that, they were off.
They followed the same metallic corridors they'd grown accustomed to, except this time their usual exit remained shut.
A shot of excitement shot through Drummer's mind. This really could be over.
After a few more minutes of anxious pacing, the cast reached their destination. Sunlight peaked through the open exit, tempting them with freedom.
By this point, Bartender was past the point of protest. She'd truly just worn herself out. Personal Trainer threw her limp body over a shoulder as the group ascended the steps.
...
All too familiar pines surrounded them, an immediate sense of dread wafting back in. They couldn't turn back now, all they could do was hope.
Turning behind them, they saw the familiar towering fence. Another sting of despair. Personal Trainer tried to be optimistic:
"Maybe this is the outside?"
Ignoring her hoping aloud, Rebel turned away from the fence and began stomping through the brush. Drummer followed suit. They had to find out right now if PT's optimism was misplaced.
Trekking through the pines, it was at least clear to them they were in a new neck of the woods. There were no familiar land marks to cling on to.
As they continued on, a nostalgic smell began wavering through the air. The stronger it got, the faster Rebel moved.
Drummer tried her best to keep pace, but the man was nearly manic at this point.
Then she saw it, what he must have seen. The end of the trees.
She began to meet his desperate pace. Before she could clear the distance, Rebel cried out:
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
Drummer finally caught up, trying to catch her breath as she took in what was in front of her:
"No."
Soon everybody had joined at the edge of the woods, all their fears crashing down on them at once.
In front of them was a deep sloping hill, reaching from the end of the tree-line to about 100 feet ahead. From there, the grass petered out into sand. From there, the sand petered out into...
"Is that the fucking ocean?"
Personal Trainers question remained unanswered by her peers because the answer was right in front of her.
Welder fell to their knees, letting out an exhausted whimper:
"I... thought it was over."
Drummer frantically shook her head:
"It doesn't make sense. If we're being hidden why would they put us on a shoreline."
Rebel turned to her, trying to subdue his fury:
"It doesn't... This has gotta be a fucking island."
All the air left Drummer's lungs. If she was going by gut feelings, Rebel was right.
They were on an island.
Welder, still in a pile on the ground questioned:
"What now?"
Rebel took it upon himself to answer:
"Let's find something to eat. I'm starving."
Drummer swallowed her despair as she concurred, letting out a deep sigh as she said:
"Yeah, let's."
THE END.
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[ STROBE WARNING ]
SOMETHING BAD'S COMING THIS WAY
39 notes
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Text
[ STROBE WARNING ]
SOMETHING BAD'S COMING THIS WAY
#danganronpa#dangan ronpa#oc#dangansona#fangan ronpa#fanganronpa#docoronpa#docoronpa r#my art#strobe warning#strobe lights#epilepsy#its dark and hell is hot by jpegmafia
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DOCORONPA R

EPILOGUE
As glistening confetti rained down from the ceiling, Drummer was hit with a sudden wave of relief. Was it really over?
Choosing to not get ahead of herself, Drummer stomached this excitement as she eyed the exit. Following the shock they'd just endured, it took a few moments for her words to reach her lips:
"...Should we leave?"
Drummer scanned anxiously for her peers' reactions. Rebel had gone non-verbal at this point, his head held alongside the empty pistol in his hands.
A cursory glance down at Bartender showed she wasn't finished with her pathetic display, whimpering as she clawed at the center podium. No luck.
After a few more agonizing moments of silence, Personal Trainer stepped up to answer Drummer:
"I... I guess."
Welder pulled a stilted shrug, still visibly shaken by what they'd just endured:
"I think we have to, right?"
After a few more meandering comments, Rebel pushed the discussion along:
"If we're leaving then let's just fucking leave. We don't gotta discuss it."
Despite his mannerless delivery, Drummer knew he was right. They were wasting time waiting around.
Drummer cautiously exited her podium. Her contemporaries followed her lead, everybody gathering just outside the exit. Everybody except one.
Bartender remained crumbled in the center of the courtroom, desperately scratching at the floor. Even after all she had done, it was hard not to pity her in that moment.
Drummer, strangely enough, called out to her:
"You coming with?"
Bartender hissed back through blocked up tears:
"W-with you? With the fu-ucking peasants? As if."
Rebel grunted:
"You heard the bitch, let's go."
Drummer stayed put:
"I don't think he's gonna come back for you. You're gonna die here if you don't come."
Bartender protested:
"I'd rather starve and die and rot than spend another minute with you losers."
Drummer turned to PT with a smirk:
"Sounds like we found the perfect punishment."
Without a second thought, Personal Trainer descended upon the fallen traitor. Taking a struggling ankle in each hand, she unceremoniously dragged Bartender to the exit.
Rebel rolled his eyes, his only remark being:
"Whatever, she'll be the last to eat."
With that, they were off.
They followed the same metallic corridors they'd grown accustomed to, except this time their usual exit remained shut.
A shot of excitement shot through Drummer's mind. This really could be over.
After a few more minutes of anxious pacing, the cast reached their destination. Sunlight peaked through the open exit, tempting them with freedom.
By this point, Bartender was past the point of protest. She'd truly just worn herself out. Personal Trainer threw her limp body over a shoulder as the group ascended the steps.
...
All too familiar pines surrounded them, an immediate sense of dread wafting back in. They couldn't turn back now, all they could do was hope.
Turning behind them, they saw the familiar towering fence. Another sting of despair. Personal Trainer tried to be optimistic:
"Maybe this is the outside?"
Ignoring her hoping aloud, Rebel turned away from the fence and began stomping through the brush. Drummer followed suit. They had to find out right now if PT's optimism was misplaced.
Trekking through the pines, it was at least clear to them they were in a new neck of the woods. There were no familiar land marks to cling on to.
As they continued on, a nostalgic smell began wavering through the air. The stronger it got, the faster Rebel moved.
Drummer tried her best to keep pace, but the man was nearly manic at this point.
Then she saw it, what he must have seen. The end of the trees.
She began to meet his desperate pace. Before she could clear the distance, Rebel cried out:
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
Drummer finally caught up, trying to catch her breath as she took in what was in front of her:
"No."
Soon everybody had joined at the edge of the woods, all their fears crashing down on them at once.
In front of them was a deep sloping hill, reaching from the end of the tree-line to about 100 feet ahead. From there, the grass petered out into sand. From there, the sand petered out into...
"Is that the fucking ocean?"
Personal Trainers question remained unanswered by her peers because the answer was right in front of her.
Welder fell to their knees, letting out an exhausted whimper:
"I... thought it was over."
Drummer frantically shook her head:
"It doesn't make sense. If we're being hidden why would they put us on a shoreline."
Rebel turned to her, trying to subdue his fury:
"It doesn't... This has gotta be a fucking island."
All the air left Drummer's lungs. If she was going by gut feelings, Rebel was right.
They were on an island.
Welder, still in a pile on the ground questioned:
"What now?"
Rebel took it upon himself to answer:
"Let's find something to eat. I'm starving."
Drummer swallowed her despair as she concurred, letting out a deep sigh as she said:
"Yeah, let's."
THE END.
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Text
DOCORONPA R

EPILOGUE
As glistening confetti rained down from the ceiling, Drummer was hit with a sudden wave of relief. Was it really over?
Choosing to not get ahead of herself, Drummer stomached this excitement as she eyed the exit. Following the shock they'd just endured, it took a few moments for her words to reach her lips:
"...Should we leave?"
Drummer scanned anxiously for her peers' reactions. Rebel had gone non-verbal at this point, his head held alongside the empty pistol in his hands.
A cursory glance down at Bartender showed she wasn't finished with her pathetic display, whimpering as she clawed at the center podium. No luck.
After a few more agonizing moments of silence, Personal Trainer stepped up to answer Drummer:
"I... I guess."
Welder pulled a stilted shrug, still visibly shaken by what they'd just endured:
"I think we have to, right?"
After a few more meandering comments, Rebel pushed the discussion along:
"If we're leaving then let's just fucking leave. We don't gotta discuss it."
Despite his mannerless delivery, Drummer knew he was right. They were wasting time waiting around.
Drummer cautiously exited her podium. Her contemporaries followed her lead, everybody gathering just outside the exit. Everybody except one.
Bartender remained crumbled in the center of the courtroom, desperately scratching at the floor. Even after all she had done, it was hard not to pity her in that moment.
Drummer, strangely enough, called out to her:
"You coming with?"
Bartender hissed back through blocked up tears:
"W-with you? With the fu-ucking peasants? As if."
Rebel grunted:
"You heard the bitch, let's go."
Drummer stayed put:
"I don't think he's gonna come back for you. You're gonna die here if you don't come."
Bartender protested:
"I'd rather starve and die and rot than spend another minute with you losers."
Drummer turned to PT with a smirk:
"Sounds like we found the perfect punishment."
Without a second thought, Personal Trainer descended upon the fallen traitor. Taking a struggling ankle in each hand, she unceremoniously dragged Bartender to the exit.
Rebel rolled his eyes, his only remark being:
"Whatever, she'll be the last to eat."
With that, they were off.
They followed the same metallic corridors they'd grown accustomed to, except this time their usual exit remained shut.
A shot of excitement shot through Drummer's mind. This really could be over.
After a few more minutes of anxious pacing, the cast reached their destination. Sunlight peaked through the open exit, tempting them with freedom.
By this point, Bartender was past the point of protest. She'd truly just worn herself out. Personal Trainer threw her limp body over a shoulder as the group ascended the steps.
...
All too familiar pines surrounded them, an immediate sense of dread wafting back in. They couldn't turn back now, all they could do was hope.
Turning behind them, they saw the familiar towering fence. Another sting of despair. Personal Trainer tried to be optimistic:
"Maybe this is the outside?"
Ignoring her hoping aloud, Rebel turned away from the fence and began stomping through the brush. Drummer followed suit. They had to find out right now if PT's optimism was misplaced.
Trekking through the pines, it was at least clear to them they were in a new neck of the woods. There were no familiar land marks to cling on to.
As they continued on, a nostalgic smell began wavering through the air. The stronger it got, the faster Rebel moved.
Drummer tried her best to keep pace, but the man was nearly manic at this point.
Then she saw it, what he must have seen. The end of the trees.
She began to meet his desperate pace. Before she could clear the distance, Rebel cried out:
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
Drummer finally caught up, trying to catch her breath as she took in what was in front of her:
"No."
Soon everybody had joined at the edge of the woods, all their fears crashing down on them at once.
In front of them was a deep sloping hill, reaching from the end of the tree-line to about 100 feet ahead. From there, the grass petered out into sand. From there, the sand petered out into...
"Is that the fucking ocean?"
Personal Trainers question remained unanswered by her peers because the answer was right in front of her.
Welder fell to their knees, letting out an exhausted whimper:
"I... thought it was over."
Drummer frantically shook her head:
"It doesn't make sense. If we're being hidden why would they put us on a shoreline."
Rebel turned to her, trying to subdue his fury:
"It doesn't... This has gotta be a fucking island."
All the air left Drummer's lungs. If she was going by gut feelings, Rebel was right.
They were on an island.
Welder, still in a pile on the ground questioned:
"What now?"
Rebel took it upon himself to answer:
"Let's find something to eat. I'm starving."
Drummer swallowed her despair as she concurred, letting out a deep sigh as she said:
"Yeah, let's."
THE END.
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oh wow was that drawing supposed to be the bartender after killing the marine biologist the whole time???
Tbh was more a metaphor of her keeping her hands clean (at least her first time killing)
Also to mirror Salesman only having bloody hands in one of his promos
But tbh love the idea of Bartender wearing a cunty little bikini to peel Marine Biologist's face off
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I don’t think it’s the drummer but also- a lot of the art you’ve drawn of her has her face covered so by chance she could be behind this but doesn’t remember? Maybe we don’t really know her. I’ve never been able to guess who your masterminds are but I can’t imagine any of the other alive students are behind this.
Theres still time she can be the MM of R2
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