#[we got one ehehehe it is working.

[ragnarokhound]

Trick 👻 or treat 🐺

Happy Spookmas! I'm thinking this time that a little trick 👻 might be in order... ;)

"I know this must be confusing," Tim says slowly. Jason's eyes are shallow, white pits, and he hasn't stopped frowning. Tim doesn't think Jason can see him; he doesn't turn his head to keep Tim in sight, doesn't react when Tim waves a hand in front of his eyes. Tim's never talked to a ghost before, but there's gotta be a first time for everything, right?

"Not sure what there is to be confused about," Jason says, tense. "Seems pretty clear-cut to me. Get in, get him, get out. Right?" "Right," Tim says carefully. Jason's been doing that. Talking past Tim, like he's only half-there. Like there's someone else here with them. "Uh. Who's him, Jason?" Tim asks. Maybe if he can get Jason talking, he can figure out how to help him. Maybe he has to let him down gently. Robin's been dead for months, now. There has to be something Tim can do for him. Maybe he has to... move on. "I found him." Jason says. He looks right at Tim. "Jason?" Tim asks, wary. "Hey, Timmers," Jason says, sounding-- that's-- An ache starts in his forehead. Tim tries to rub it away with the heel of his palm. "How do you know my name? I'm-- You don't know me. You're..." Tim frowns at Jason, contrite. He was never going to be able to let him down gently. "You're dead, Jason. We've never met. I'm sorry." "I'm not dead, Tim," Jason says sadly, walking toward him with his hand outstretched, white bangs falling over his red domino, looking like-- Jason's never looked at Tim like that before, pain naked on his face. It's something like determination, and something like pity, and something like-- Wait. Before? "You are."

(For the trick or treat ask game! Send me a trick or treat ask and I'll share jaytim WIP snippets, or new 3-sentence -paragraph fics, etc :^) through the 31st!)

[recareels]

something ‘bout you

character: professor!alhaitham

genre: smut ; modern university au set in teyvat

notes: waaaah it’s finally finished!!! i have no idea how this piece got to be as long as it did but alas, here we are. this has got to be the longest blow job i’ve ever written ehehehe. as always, please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title credit: dangerous woman by ariana grande

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem reader, praise, professor/graduate student relationship, sir kink, face fucking, cum swallowing, a teeny tiny bit of manipulation, lying via omission, reader is a film and linguistics student, a bit of academic jargon but nothing crazy or crucial, dom/sub dynamics

words: 8k

synopsis:

Your hand moves entirely of its own accord, touch tiptoeing up his thigh in invitation, inching toward the half-hard lump in his trousers.  He catches your wrist just before you reach his cock, slim fingers braceletting your arm and squeezing once in warning.  “Are you sure you want to go down this path, sweetheart?”  Hooded teal observes you closely, irises shaded into a deep navy, glimmering under the chandelier lights.  The question drips from his lips in a dark, decadent murmur, simultaneously an enticement and a warning, his thumb idly stroking your skin as he awaits your response—an action that brings some semblance of comfort, despite the dangerous thrill sparkling in his eye. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. Despite speaking to him for the duration of the night, you don’t know this man—don’t know his rank in the department or his status among his peers and how that may impact you in the future. On all accounts, it most definitely is not a good idea.  He seems to know so, too, if his timbre of caution is anything to go by, but that ray in his eye flares, begging you to say yes. “I want you,” you admit instead.

The banquet hall is small yet elegant, beige walls warmed by the fuchsia beams of the setting sun, streaming in thick strips through the floor-to-ceiling crystal windows. Silverware clinks delicately against fine china, glass champagne flutes clacking with front teeth as lips wrap around the edges, daintily mingling with the soft murmur of voices blanketing the room. 

Such is the life of a University of Sumeru elite. 

Classes don’t officially begin until Monday, but the entire graduate faculty of the Department of Linguistics had been invited to a prefatory mixer held at one of the grand hotels in the city. 

It is a long-standing tradition, the email invite had informed you, that the professors and supervisors of the department throw the graduate students—new and old—an intimate yet extravagant start-of-the-year dinner. 

It’s mostly meant for new students—only five accepted into the program per year—to introduce themselves to their colleagues and supervisors, becoming familiar with the faces they’ll be seeing for the next one-to-five years of their lives. 

You had been special enough to receive an acceptance letter into the PhD program, travelling from your Masters program in Liyue to the city of Sumeru to study under some of the most renowned scholars of the subject. 

And so now you stand, lingering near the immaculately organized table of hors d’oeuvres and fidgeting with the crystal flute between your palms, index finger absentmindedly tracing the rim as eager, interested eyes sweep across the room again, soaking up the atmosphere. 

You have worked so hard to get here, to get to this point, to stand in this room with the gilt-edged supremes of the scholastic world and be one of them—a part of this exclusive, highly-coveted club composed of the outstanding, the superior, the royals of academia.

A large, smooth hand yanks you, rough and abrupt, from your appreciative daydream, blinking rapidly as you stare up at the man who is unexpectedly talking to you—talking at you—as if he knows you well, already mid-sentence about the legend of King Deshret by the time your shock dissipates, concentration tuning into his frequency.  

“—And that’s why he went mad.”

Teal eyes hold yours, steady and intent and willing you not to look away, the fingers wrapped firmly around your bicep flexing the moment your stare begins to stray, watching through your peripheral vision as a man with white hair and rust eyes passes by, features set in hard stone. 

It is only after the man is out of earshot that your captor relaxes, fingers loosening but not fully releasing their grip on your flesh. 

“Thanks for that,” he says, suddenly sounding disinterested and distracted, gaze flitting around the room. 

“Was that true?” 

“What?” he looks back over at you, as if he’s surprised you just spoke to him. 

“Was that true?” you repeat. “I thought that since Nabu Malikata had warned him of the repercussions of the ritual prior to them performing it that he knew she’d die—that he knew she had chosen to die—and went mad with guilt due to him choosing his own selfish desires over the love of his life.” 

He shakes his head, swallowing a mouthful of his scotch. “A common misconception, often due to mistranslations and the incorrigible feelings of the translators themselves. Romantics, you know,” he shrugs, head tilting as he observes you, bright yet sharp eyes studying your face in slow, excruciating detail, as he he’s trying to divest your thoughts through your features. “Are you new? I don’t think I’ve seen you around the department before.” 

Razored teal glints like a scalpel as it attempts to dissect you, his scintillating gaze carefully shaving away at any pretences. 

“I am,” you confirm with a nod, struggling to suppress the pride tugging at the corners of your lips as you introduce yourself. “One of the three lucky souls to have been accepted as a PhD Candidate.” 

“Nice to meet you,” the man murmurs, giving your arm another little squeeze in greeting before finally releasing it. “I’m Haitham. Alhaitham, if you want to be formal, but Haitham is fine.” 

His body relaxes, shoulders no longer pinched, muscles no longer coiled as he gets more comfortable, leaning against a large column, his stance becoming permanent. 

“So, tell me. Where did you complete your Masters?” 

Your heart thumps against your ribs, pushing hard breath up your throat, nerves suddenly buzzing beneath the swelter of his intense stare, fighting the urge to shrink away from his fulgurous attention. 

“Liyue,” you say. “I studied under the guidance of Professor Zhongli.” 

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow in lazy intrigue, notes of condescension glazing his tone, a small smirk adoring his lips. “That’s impressive.” 

“You know him?” 

“Everybody in the academic world knows him, sweetheart. I’m sure you know that, as well.” 

Bashful heat seeps into your cheeks, tingling little pinpricks of embarrassment sprouting beneath your skin. 

“Well, I just—”

“Please,” Alhaitham cuts your off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The man is a master in several subjects; there’s not a chance anyone who is a true scholar hasn’t encountered and studied his work. What did you study beneath him?” 

“Um,” you begin, wincing at how idiotic it sounds, a corner of his mouth quirking up. “I wrote my thesis under his supervision. During my undergrad I majored in linguistics and specialized in cinema studies, so naturally my thesis aimed at analyzing and dissecting the role and importance of language in film—more specifically, how particular language conveys meaning and impacts the psychology of the viewer, as well as how particular language influences, dictates and affects the way a viewer derives meaning from the piece.” 

“Wow,” Alhaitham breathes, and for the first time tonight he sounds genuinely impressed, sincerely interested, notes of intrigue imbuing his tone. “I’d love to read it, if you’ll allow me.” 

“Of course,” you preen, the pressure on your lungs letting up a little beneath his praise. “It took me nearly two years to complete, and under Professor Zhongli’s supervision I was even able to conduct field studies and experiments to gather information and data.” 

“Is that so?” his smirk grows into a lopsided grin, his eyes sparkling with supercilious amusement. “Like what?” 

“As I’m sure you’re well aware of, how a certain character speaks and the words they use says a lot about who they are and where they hail from, but that’s only half the equation. The other half depends on the viewer themselves—their own background, upbringing, experiences, beliefs, and intelligence all influence the way they will perceive and derive meaning from an individual film. The research concluded that, based on these factors, two individuals from separate classes more often than not arrive at substantially different meanings of the information provided from the same film.” 

“Well done,” he murmurs, appreciative, and you can’t help but glow beneath his words, his commendation a beam of nurturing sunlight, drawing you closer to his heat.

“Thank you,” you say, bowing your head respectfully. “And what about you? Are you a student?” 

He laughs, bright and warm, almost as if your mistake is cute. 

“No, no, I am a Professor.” 

“What do you teach?” 

“Syntactic Patterns in Ancient Runes, and Advanced Morphology,” he says easily. “Speaking of which, will you be TAing any classes this year?” 

“I will! Though I have not yet been approved to teach my own class, only tutorials for the first years. Understandable, I guess, since I’m a new student and all.” 

Your disappointment is palpable, hanging thick and heavy in the air, and his demeanour softens a little, a warm hand clasping over your shoulder.

“Cheer up,” he says. “I’m positive they’ll give you your own lecture the moment you hit your third year—those positions are usually reserved to upper-year PhD’s.” The tips of his fingers press into your muscles in a comforting massage, and you can’t help but lean into his touch a little, body deliquescing. “Which class will you be TAing for?” 

“Intro to Linguistics: Sentence Structure and Meaning,” you make a face, the thought sobering you slightly. “By the way, would you happen to know who’s teaching that class this year? There’s no professor listed on the website yet, but if they’re here I’d love to introduce myself.” 

Something darkens his eyes, his smile turned wolfish, a shock of unease unravelling slow and sticky in the pit of your belly.

“I wouldn’t worry about him,” he says dismissively, though there’s a shard of something submerged in teal irises, sharp and dangerous, glimmering beneath crystal lights. “He’s a jackass anyway. Antisocial, selfish, you know the type. Introducing yourself to him wouldn’t make much of a difference—he isn’t a fan of those overeager polite types, not unless they’re genuine.” 

“Oh,” you frown, deflating a little, ignoring the ice prickling at the base of your spine. “That’s a shame. I was hoping to be on good terms with him.” 

“I don’t think anyone’s on good terms with him,” Alhaitham mutters dryly, eyes narrowing as they sweep across the room, almost accusing in manner. “But who knows,” he says as he looks back at you, hard gaze palliating just a touch. “You might be the one to change that.” 

Confusion sprouts across your face, features crinkling as you draw in a breath to inquire, but a booming voice cuts you off, briskly announcing that it is time for dinner and requesting everyone take their seats. 

“Here,” Alhaitham murmurs as slim fingers cuff your wrist, leading you. “Come sit with me.” 

The dinner is several courses long, but you hardly remember any of them, too caught up in teal eyes and a velvet voice, in the hand that has found it’s way onto you knee, thumb stroking the bone in rhythmic motions through your tights, in the ankles currently tangled around your own, tightening every so often and hauling you a little bit closer—any time you say something that procures that amused little sound, playing on the back of his tongue; any time you say something that raises his brows and leaves his eyes shimmering, head tilted cutely in curious study.

The conversation flows seamlessly as the night passes, as servers bring and remove plates, as guests mingle around the ballroom, arriving to and departing from your table—but the two of you don’t dare move an inch, entirely captivated by your intimate discussion; heads bowed, legs locked, words murmured between the steadily dissipating space between your mouths. 

He tells you about his most recent excavation into the long lost tomb of a prince, about the runes he found intricately engraved on the gorgeous sarcophagus, about what they said and how they fit into his most recent collection of essays—highly coveted information, he had mentioned, sure to note he hadn’t told anyone about this; not until tonight, not until you, his voice taking on a slight air of incredulity, as if he can’t believe he just revealed such information so easily. 

You tell him about the research Zhongli personally funded after you were nearly expelled from the program for sneaking into the film reel archives despite being explicitly denied access—all in the pursuit of knowledge, of course, you had bristled with a roll of your eyes, insisting that such important pieces should not be so inaccessible to scholars—and of the many trips your valued Professor took you on, traversing film festivals across the whole of Inazuma. 

He tells you about his childhood in Sumeru, about what got him interested in semiotics and linguistics, about the first language he learned—and about how his grandmother taught him, eyes gone soft with fondness for the since passed woman. 

You tell him about your childhood in Fontaine, about scraped knees and local theatre and sparkling blue water, about your favourite Fontainian film movements and how they first sparked your passion for the performing arts. 

“I don’t know anything about Fontainian Neorealism or the Fontaine New Wave,” he admits, “but I do know that Sumeru has a flourishing arts and culture sector—and I assume that’s why you’ve chosen to study here. Am I correct?” 

“You are,” you nod with a small smirk, sipping on red wine. “It is exceptionally difficult to study Sumeru’s robust art history without actually being here. All I know are the things I’ve read in books—which are not nearly a suitable substitute for experiencing it with your own eyes.”

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. “Let’s make a deal, then.” 

“A deal?” 

“A trade, of sorts,” he begins, smirking when you blink twice in curiosity. “I’ll take you to a performance at Zubayr Theater, and you take me to see a Fontainan film. Sound fair?” 

“Sounds wonderful.”

A small smile graces his lips, wispy at the edges, a peculiar sentiment sparkling in his gaze. “It’s a date, then.” 

And you can’t help the fizzy feeling that starts to froth in your veins at the word, at the promise of seeing him again, of spending more uninterrupted time with him, just the two of you. 

It must show on your face in some way, must be evident in the sweet, girlish giggle that bubbles uncontrollably past your lips, because his smile stretches, still soft, and he chuckles gently, nothing more than a huff of breath on his tongue.

“I’m looking forward to it, too.” 

The palm cupping your knee is hot and heavy, his grasp flexing with his response, staying itself for a moment before it slides up your thigh, slow and careful and appraising, thumb stopping a millimeter shy from the hem of your short black dress.

Keen teal eyes stay trained on your face, focused in their evaluation, ready to analyze any slight change in expression his action may elicit.

But you only lean closer, legs spreading an inch or so wider, shuffling to the edge of your seat, a silent plea for more. 

A silent plea that does not go unnoticed by Alhaitham, as indicated by his small smile, sharp eyes dulling a little with their inquisition and fingers sinking into plush flesh, grip strengthening before relaxing again, the tip of his thumb stroking the material of your dress.

All without a single hitch in his words, swiftly and smoothly moving onto the next topic. 

And you only fall further. 

You can’t manage to keep your hands to yourself, either, it seems, touch vying and voracious for more of him: playing with the gold bangles encircling his wrist; twisting the gilded jade class ring pressed firmly against his second knuckle; drifting over the back of his hand, a single fingertip outlining the bones and veins contouring his flesh. 

He doesn’t appear to mind, though, flipping his hand over to gift you more access, allowing you to trace the lines of his palm with a manicured nail, his fingers spreading wider, presenting more of himself to you as you vividly discuss Metz and how he built his cinematic semiotics theory off of structural linguistics. 

His hand is nearly in your lap now, your thighs cushioning one another’s, knees bumping clumsily against the edge of each other’s chairs as you subconsciously try to inch closer, caught up in every fucking thing about him; his viscous voice, cascading over you like melty syrup; his vivid stare, so bright and full of passion it’s practically glowing; his magnificent mind, gears churning at a rapid yet efficient pace, producing ribbons of wisdom, flowing smooth and fluid from his lips, confident and self-assured. 

You’re drowning in him, submerging yourself further and further into his presence, more intoxicated by his aura than the wine roiling warm and sweet in your belly. It produces something insatiable, a starved clawing at your chest that grapples for more and more and more of him, every fragment of information you manage to extract doing nothing to satisfy the hunger, instead exacerbating the craving. 

You’ve never met anyone like him before; never met anyone so blunt and real and unabashedly themselves, never met anyone so sincerely scholarly, so dedicated to their studies, so zealous in their never-ending pursuit of knowledge.

It’s inspiring; it’s intoxicating.

Alhaitham’s mind is brilliant, beautiful, an ornate maze of thoughts, each one leading to something new, each one unravelling like the petals of a lotus, sparking further debates, remarks, ponders. 

You could get lost in here forever, you think—stumbling your way around sharp corners and down twisting corridors, consistently in awe of the next thing you discover. 

You must murmur it out to him, dreamy and wine-drunk and wrapped up in him, sentiments streaming seamlessly from your brain to your lips without your permission, because he laughs, the sound mild and tender, his gaze softening. 

“Is that so?” 

“Mm,” you nod, lazy and languid. “It’s so beautiful, Haitham.”

“I’ve never had anyone call my mind beautiful before,” he muses. “But I think it might be my favourite compliment to receive yet.” 

Bubbles of pride tingle behind your ribs, and your chest puffs out a little, spine straightening beneath his praise, murmuring out a little self-satisfied, well, then, you’re welcome. 

“Proud of yourself, huh?” he teases, though the notes infusing his voice are playful, his eyes shining as he studies you, cataloging your expressions.

“Yes, Sir,” you confirm. “You’re a hard man to please.”

“Oh, am I?” he snorts, head tilting in question.

“S’not a bad thing,” you continue, words slurred just a touch, heavy with admiration. Dainty hands find his own, your fingers beginning to toy with his, idle and absent-minded as they curl and straighten knuckles. 

“No?” he smirks, pinky catching yours in a swift hook. “I mean, you seem to be doing a pretty good job so far.” 

“I could do better, if you want me to.” 

It’s bold, brash, and entirely unbefitting, but the offer slips from your mouth without thought or consent, startling you in it’s veracity, a jolt of desire zipping through your veins. 

Your hand moves entirely of its own accord, touch tiptoeing up his thigh in invitation, inching toward the half-hard lump in his trousers. 

He catches your wrist just before you reach his cock, slim fingers braceletting your arm and squeezing once in warning. 

“Are you sure you want to go down this path, sweetheart?” 

Hooded teal observes you closely, irises shaded into a deep navy, glimmering under the chandelier lights. 

The question drips from his lips in a dark, decadent murmur, simultaneously an enticement and a warning, his thumb idly stroking your skin as he awaits your response—an action that brings some semblance of comfort, despite the dangerous thrill sparkling in his eye.

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. Despite speaking to him for the duration of the night, you don’t know this man—don’t know his rank in the department or his status among his peers and how that may impact you in the future. On all accounts, it most definitely is not a good idea. 

He seems to know so, too, if his timbre of caution is anything to go by, but that ray in his eye flares, begging you to say yes.

Because the desire is too strong, a potent drug infusing your blood and hazing your brain, overwhelming your senses and overriding your better judgement, and you find yourself unable to resist, easily placing blame on the wine and the party and the undeniable allure of this stranger, instead of your own ravenous craving. 

“I want you,” you admit instead, the confession oozing from between pouted lips, stark with it’s honesty, unapologetic with your longing. 

Alhaitham laughs, low and smooth, watching you through thick, fanned lashes. 

“How do you want me?”

He’s playing with you now, a hawk toying with his food between razored talons, forcing his prey to go exactly where he wants it to. 

You can’t find it in yourself to care. 

“However you’ll give you to me,” you respond, brazen but sincere, glassy eyes wide and captivating his own. 

Teal searches your face for a moment, pries apart your features in search of falsities and finds nothing but unadulterated candour, so sheer it boarders on pathetic. 

“All right,” he finally says, hand smoothing along your wrist to press your palms together, lacing your fingers with his and giving a gentle tug. “Come.” 

You tread behind him like the sweetest little kitten, inebriated galaxies swirling in your irises, desperate and obedient and eager for your treat. 

But you’re just a touch too impatient, it seems.

Because he barely makes it to the washroom, free hand on the doorknob, intending to throw one last glance back at you—one final confirmation, are you sure? written in the motion—before you’re surging forward, soft palms cushioning a defined jaw, dainty fingers hooking behind the hinges and yanking, crushing his lips to yours.

It isn’t graceful in the slightest, a rough mangle of tongues and teeth, incisors catching on lips and canines scraping slick muscle, but Alhaitham recalibrates quickly enough, large hands curling around your hips and pulling you to his form. 

The door to the men’s washroom swings open as your knotted bodies fall through it, hinges loose and creaky, the metal handle slamming against the tiled wall, the resounding bang! bouncing throughout the room.

The stumbling of your footsteps echoes around you, obnoxious smacking of lips and slurping of tongues amplified by the open space as you gulp down his breathy little chuckle, the sound warm and tingling as it spills down your throat. 

A tangled mess of legs and limbs, you fall into the first available stall, rickety door whacking off the side, the lock jingling from the force. 

He allows you to crowd him into a corner, hinges of the flimsy door tinkering again as your legs slotting together and your tongues grind, tips teasing each other in curling little licks, catching one another and then slipping away, tracing the ridges of teeth, burrowing into the divots of cheeks. 

A strong hand stays wrapped around your neck, nails just barely nipping your skin as he grips you in place, his other hand busying itself with a palmful of your ass, fingertips planting bruises into soft flesh. 

A responding hiss slithers from your mouth into his, the sound massed on his tongue, the muscle folding around it and sucking, savouring your pain until it melts into his flesh.

Your hands are indecisive, traversing the buttons of his shirt and the loops of his trousers until, finally, they find his belt, fingers eager and vying as they pick at the heavy buckle, and he snorts. 

“It’s cute, how utterly desperate you are,” he mumbles into the kiss, slippery mouths sliding together, leavings streaks of saliva painted across chins. 

You are desperate, too desperate, and if you were of sound mind you’d be rightfully embarrassed of such behaviour, pawing at him like some impatient teenager, pathetically aching for more of him. 

But the wine and the glamour and Alhaitham’s intoxicating taste—cedar wood and mint, cloaked by expensive scotch—has cast a murky cloud over your brain, stuffing your skull full of nothing but ardour, dulling all of your senses, honing all of your needs, to him, him, him. 

The thigh wedged between your own, sculpted from strong, lean muscle, flexes twice, hitching up further into your core, a pitchy mewl spilling onto his tongue as a reward. You can feel his cock, hot and hard and pressed tightly against your hip, rutting into you in small, uneven little motions, dense heat sprawling, slow and sticky, in the pit of your tummy. 

“God, you’re already making such a fucking mess,” he nearly moans into your mouth, thigh tensing again in emphasis, cotton doused in slick arousal. “And I’ve barely even touched you. I guess you really do want me, don’t you?” 

And although his words are teasing, imbued with notes of playful mocking, his tone is sweet, almost as if he’s in awe of how honest you were. 

“S’bad,” you whimper, tongue sketching out the curve of his cupid’s bow. “So bad.”

“Yeah? Tell me,” he pants, a hand wreathing around your jaw, keeping your stare trapped in his. “Tell me what you want.” 

The demand is damp as it drifts across your face, scalding little pinpricks erupting beneath your skin, paired with a low whine of embarrassment. His gaze is too vehement, eyes wide and unblinking as they impel you, your own lids squeezing shut in the face of such fervour. 

“Ah!” the hand clamped around your jaw tightens. “Open them. Look at me, and tell me what you want. You’re a big girl, I know you can do it.”

It almost hurts to look at him, another bout of humiliation flushing through your veins as you squint, features twisted up in a wince. 

“C’mon,” he goads, fingertips thrumming against you cheek once in a fluent wave. “Where’s that big beautiful brain gone now? You were so eloquent at dinner.”  

“I—I wanna ride your cock!” you nearly sob, the profession a stringy plead shoved from your tongue, tangled in threads of saliva. “I really wanna ride your cock.” 

“Aw, how precious,” he clicks his tongue, as if it’s such a shame, words filtered through a slight faux pout. “Too bad naughty girls don’t get to ride my cock.” 

“Wh-What?” you blink, tears beading at the corners of your eyes, just barely caught in outer lashes. “Naughty?”

And, oh, the smile that spreads across his cheeks is downright sinister, eyes flashing with levity. 

“Do good girls put their hands all over a stranger’s cock?” he tilts his head, that shiny sliver in his iris catching in the light. “Does that not qualify as misbehaviour to you?”

“But—But I—I’m good!”  

The response is automatic, barreling up your throat and out your mouth before you have a moment to seize it, a fierce need to prove yourself igniting behind your ribs, eyebrows knit cutely as you stare at him, eyes beseeching despite your bratty tone. 

“Are you?” he raises a brow, eyes hard, but mirth plays with the corners of his lips. “Your behaviour thus far says otherwise.”

“I am!” 

Your gaze steadily holds his own, daring, challenging, insistent, your features scrunched up in a stubborn petulance.

“All right, prove it to me,” he says after a beat, exhaling an amused little huff. “Show me you’re a good girl and suck my cock.” 

And that’s all the encouragement you need, really, desperate to prove yourself worthy and capable as you slide down his body, knees on his toes, lidded stare never breaking contact with his own—heavy, dark, starving.

His collarbone, sharply prominent and peeking out from beneath his shirt lapels, heaves a little with his laboured breaths, the faintest sheen of sweat beginning to lacquer the bones, catching delicately in the fluorescent light. 

Nosing along the impressive bulge straining against his trousers, you hum a little in appreciation, trailing hot, humid kisses up the length in a haphazard outline. A hushed giggle vibrates in your throat as his cock jumps beneath your touch, begging for what Alhaitham would never dare to, tongue unfurling from your mouth to roll, slow and hard, over the clothed head. 

The slick muscle wraps itself around the tip as best it can, wet heat seeping through his pants as your tongue siphons his cock into your mouth, lips closing around the head and suckling, hard. 

A breath snares on his sternum, his hips twitching once in complement, chased by a low, alluring chuckle. 

“Huh,” he says to himself, though the letters are breathless. “I didn’t know good girls were little teases…” 

The implication is not lost on you, and you roll your eyes, grumbling out a muffled no fun into his groin before your fingers immediately get to work—button popped, zipper tugged, knuckles curled in the elastic waistbands, hauling his pants and briefs midway down his thighs. 

His cock is just as gorgeous as he is, thick and velvety and twined with pulsing veins that surge and swell the moment they’re wrapped in your tongue.

It’s impossible to silence the pathetic whimper of appreciation that spills from your throat the moment his cock is free, massive and magnificent, and you can’t resist nuzzling your cheek into it in admiration, catlike, the flushed head leaving a fat streak of pre-cum painted just below your eye.

A curse pries its way past his lips, fading into a breathy exhale, his fingers latching beneath your jaw and tilting your face to his, taking a moment to cherish the sight. 

You look so beautiful stained with him—glistening pre-cum dashed across your check in a perfect stripe; lips swollen and licked raw, shimmering with his spit—and he can’t help but stare, ravenous pupils having gnawed away at teal irises, desperate to soak up as much of the scene as physically possible, leaving nothing more than a thin ring to outline the orbs. 

His thumb swipes through the sticky substance, rubs it into your skin until it’s gone dry, seeped into the tissues and absorbed completely, and your neck strains a little, yearning to present more of your cheek to him, offering.

Another second or two passes as he grants himself one final moment of marvel, before his fingers release your head, a non-verbal command to continue. 

And you obey flawlessly, instantly. 

A dainty hand wraps around the base of his cock, tongue darting from between raw lips to lap kittenishly at the head, flattening along the curve and dragging twice in unhurried succession before digging the point into his slit, procuring another pretty pearl of pre-cum, oozing enticingly to adorn the tip. 

It’s so dense, so bloated it looks mere moments away from dropping, your tongue stretching out   far and wide in a precursory measure, ready to catch it when it falls. And it does, only a beat later, dripping slow and gross into your waiting mouth in a single strand, thick and viscid.

A hefty moan resounds in your throat as it seeps into your tastebuds, his flavour bitter and strong, fluttering lashes framing rolling whites. 

The noise that splinters in his throat is strained, yearning beneath a heavy hedonism, and his fingers tighten in your hair, a subtle caution. Smirking, your glance up at him again, sinful tongue laving lasciviously over your puffy lips, yet your eyes are not bratty, instead glittering with such potent awe it almost hurts, like he’s some sort of veneered saint, exalt pouring from your gaze. 

It crushes down on his chest, flattens his lungs and makes it difficult to draw in breath, oxygen stalling in his throat, the urge to yank you up and kiss the goddamn life out of you near unbearable as it tears at his chest. But he comes back to his senses, restraint held intact by a single spider silk thread, a dull, distant voice in the back of his skull reminding him of your task, of your lesson.  

You seem to know, too. 

No words need to be spoken, no warnings need to be issued, the hand around the base of his cock flexing slightly as it readjusts its grip, feeding him to yourself, taking him inch by inch down your eager throat. 

“S’it,” he encourages as he watches you, eyes lidded and hazy with lust. “That’s it, baby, take as much of it as you can for me.” 

The incentive, haunted by the ghost of potential praise if you succeed, only makes you more avid in your quest, throat stretching around his girth as you stuff it full of his cock, reflexes instinctively attempting to push him from the gummy column, constricting as you gag around the head.

It’s hard to know what he likes—how fast, how deep, how rough and filthy—but from the limited information you’ve gathered tonight, you can infer that he isn’t a fan of teasing; at least, not when he’s the one being teased. 

“A little more,” he instructs, but the command is gentle, a thumb skimming along the line of your jaw, hinges straining as you immediately submit, mouth opening wider, throat sexpanding further as you take more of him, more for him.

“Fuck, look at that,” he pants out, thumb caressing your jaw again before his palm cups beneath your chin, tilting your head up, the action inadvertently forcing his cock farther down your throat. “You’re so good.”

Blinking twice in response, you stare up at him, irises encrusted with stars of worship, their shine unhindered by the bleary gloss of reflexive tears that have already begun to collect, lashes clumped into soaked spikes, just barely keeping the torrent at bay.

He’s not sure he’s ever felt more respected, revered, in his entire life. 

Another blink—a quick beating of lashes—sends crystalline dewdrops flowing down your cheeks, the softest sniffle, half-stifled, shuddering delicately around his cock. 

“H-Hah,” he breathes out, an involuntary little sound pulled from deep within his chest, your agape mouth working itself open greater, lips stretching over his bulk.

He holds you still for a moment, takes time to admire such a pretty sight, hips jolting slightly, eyes watching as the bulge in your throat jumps, as you choke around him but don’t dare push him away, instead squeezing the base of his cock, attempting to jam it down even more. Your chin juts forward in a futile attempt to aid, salacious squelching echoing throughout the bathroom as you swallow, hard and with conviction, trying to lead him further into your body. 

The back of his knuckle swipes through a stream of glittering salt, collecting your tears on his skin and bringing it to his mouth, tongue washing over it slowly, savouring your taste. 

And you wait. 

How very good of you.

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he finally says as he releases his grip, permitting you to take control again. “Show me how much of me you can take down your throat.” 

And, really, that’s all of the enticement you need, head beginning to move the instant he demands it, mouth gliding down his shaft, slow and steady, until the tip of your nose just barely brushes your second knuckle. A pause, a mere millisecond for him to feel your throat convulse, before you’re pulling back up, lips puckering as they tighten around his shaft, glazing his flesh in a thin, shimmering film of saliva. 

Each stroke of your mouth has your pace accelerating, opting to keep your fist wrapped firmly at the base of his cock to steady it instead of allowing it to follow the trajectory of your lips.

It grows sloppy quick, your spit-soaked hand readjusting it’s slippery grip as your upper lip repeatedly bashes into it, the threads of saliva keeping your mouth and finger connected snapping each time your lips reach his head, nearly pulling off of his cock completely before your mouth sinks down again

“Yeah, yeah, there you go,” he grunts out, words torn around the edges, breathing raw and ragged. “Good girl, my perfect girl, doing so well for me.” 

A whine reverberates around his cock, your legs spreading slightly as your back bows and your neck arches, an ambitious attempt to take more of him, throat gaping and split open, drenched cunt grinding into the toe of his polished shoe. 

He groans a little, the sound tapering off into something choked and broken, his hips stuttering forward and involuntarily plunging his entire length down your throat, body retching at the abrupt intrusion. 

And suddenly, all of this isn’t exactly enough for you. 

Because while you can nearly fit all of him down your throat on your own, and while he seems to be more than satisfied with your progress, there’s still an inch or so that you’re missing, palm curled around it in a manner that’s almost protective, and you want to take all of him. 

You want to prove that you can take all of him, for him. 

A thick, milky string of spit and pre-cum dangles and droops heavily in the space between your lips and his cock as you peel your mouth from his shaft entirely, wrecked little coughs furling on your tongue, eyes wet and wide and full of reverence as you look up at him, imploring.

With a little effort, he hefts his lids open from their sedative state, staring down at you with glazed, gluttonous pupils, head tilting a little in inquiry.

“I want you to fuck my throat, Sir,” you rasp out in explanation, voice rough and raw, request grating against your throat. “Please, fuck my throat, Sir, please.” 

The plead is garbled, drooled out from the corners of your mouth curled in copious drivels of foamy spit, collecting on your chin and dripping off your jaw in viscous glass cords. 

Chest heaving with ragged breath, he watches as drool drizzles across your collarbone and exposed bosom, sticky and sloppy. You’re making such a mess—he’s making such a mess of you, and you’re so willing, so unwavering, raring for more. 

“Fuck,” he nearly whines out, the curse cracked. 

Deft fingers grip your face, blunt nails biting into your cheeks as he forces your head up further, an attempt to get a better look at you. 

“Yeah?” he breathes, the word drifting across your face, eyes hunting after it in an almost rabid manner. “You want Sir to fuck your mouth?” 

A whimper vibrates on your tongue, head nodding as best it can in his firm grasp. 

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, wanna take as much of you as possible, Sir; wanna take all of you, Sir; wanna be so good for you, Sir,” your head quirks a little, nuzzling into his touch. “Please, help me, help me show you how good I can be.” 

Your confession is molten and dreamy, flowing from your lips in one thick, continuous stream, your eyes limpid, desperate with the desire to please. 

“Though you’ve proven you are capable of doing it on your own, it’s precious that you’re asking for my help.”

A hum of contemplation rumbles in his chest, head tilting in observation, his scrutinizing gaze framed by heavy lids, eyes now slow and steady as they search your face.

“You need Sir to guide you, huh?” he’s asking as his other hand replaces your own, wrapping around the base of his cock and giving it two good, quick pumps before bringing the head to your lips, mouth obediently dropping open, a sound of confirmation playing on the back of your tongue.

Yes, yes, you’re nodding, tongue curling in the air a little, almost as if enticing him closer.

“No, not need,” he revises, smudging a thin stroke of pre-cum across your waiting, urgent tongue. “Want. Isn’t that right?” 

It’s true—you don’t technically need his assistance, could manage perfectly well on your own the task of sucking him off and stuffing your throat with his cum, but you want his aid; want to show him that not only can you succeed, but you can surpass.

“Please,” you whimper, the word a distortion trembling against the tip of his cock. “Please, help me be the very best for you, Sir.” 

Something sharp flashes in his pupils, hungry and craving and full of teeth, his chest stuttering with it—a growl he snuffs out, strangles in his throat before it can grow into a coherent response, replaced with a simple nod.

“All right, all right, baby,” he’s pacifying as you take his cock down your throat again, the hinges of your jaw straining as your mouth stretches around him. “Sir will help you out this time.” 

A mewl of thanks vibrates around his cock as he threads himself down your throat, his hips jerking once, fast and short, a matching whimper spilling from his lips. 

Delicate fingers curl in his waistband and tug a little, begging him to fuck deeper, and he concedes, groaning out breathy praise as your nose presses into that neat smattering of curls adorning his pubic bone, lips kissing the root of his shaft. 

“Christ,” he whines, hips thrusting forward a hint further as he leans back against the stall wall to get a better view, your throat tightening around him with the action. “So fucking gorgeous.” 

The stuffed full column of your throat ripples around him as you swallow with conviction, a greedy attempt to garner him even deeper into you, his shaft swollen and protruding in your neck. Tear-lacquered eyes close briefly, forcing streams of crystal to leak from the corners as you nuzzle into his groin again, the laudatory action causing gummy walls to spasm around his cockhead. 

“F-Fuck,” the curse fragments on his tongue, head tipping back against the flimsy stall wall, angular jaw and Adam’s apple on display. “Look at you, so full of me.”

There isn’t any more time to admire, though, as idle chatter, muffled and indistinct, seeps under the heavy washroom door, yanking both of you from the heavenscape you had conjointly created and shocking you with a bitter dose of reality. 

There’s no warning after that, the brute reminder of the steadily encroaching public entirely shattering whatever trance the two of you had been enveloped in, Alhaitham’s hips snapping sudden and sharp, fucking your throat with a renewed vigour. 

Your grip on his slacks tightens, knuckles curling over the waistband in a feeble attempt to help him, to pull him even closer, jaw wrenched open even wider as his hips work, so fucking dedicated to him, to pleasing him, despite the pang beginning to settle deep within the hinges.

It’s rough, and sloppy, and so fucking hot, scalding saliva smeared all over him—coating his thighs and dribbling down his balls and soaking the matted curls at the base of his cock, slippery and sticky and stained with you. 

“Doing so—so fucking good for me,” he pants out, pace never faltering. “My perfect little toy.” 

Something mangled and muted sounds in your throat, another pair of tears cascading down your cheeks and streaking them with pretty gleaming trails.

It hurts, your throat burning and fucked raw with every ram of his cock, your lungs beginning to shrivel as he smothers your breath, routinely shoved back down in time with the piston of his hips, chest swelling painfully beneath the backlog of unreleased air. 

Hiccups splutter around him as you desperately try to draw in tiny gulps through your nose, the fluttering of your throat eliciting another hoarse groan, tumbling from his lips. 

The ache in your jaw has radiated across your face now, a pounding in your temples keeping flawless rhythm with Alhaitham’s thrusts, a twinging in your cheeks weighing heavy on the bones, creeping into your sinuses.

Yes, it all hurts so very much, but you take it all for him, just like a good little girl is supposed to, just like he asked, just like you promised you would—dutiful, doting, devoted.

And even though his hips are ruthless, avid in their chase to catch his impending high, his grip is tender, the knuckles rooted against your skull firm but not painful as they hold your head in place, his thumbs massaging soothing little circles along your hairline.

You’re weeping around him now, a potent concoction of drool and tears trickling off your tongue in viscid strings, the slick muscle curled flush around the underside of his shaft, protecting sensitive skin from the edges of sharp teeth. 

A dull pain is beginning to seep into the tip of your nose, no doubt a response to the constant collision of your face into his pelvis, and you can feel the early formations of a bruise, fragile capillaries busted open from the consistent blunt force. 

“Oh, Christ,” he gasps, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before springing back open, gazing down at you with fervour. “M’gonna—ah, ah—” his hips judder, thumbs pressing into the sides of your head, steadying his grasp. “M’gonna cum, and I want you to—f-fuck—to swallow it all, y’here me? Don’t waste a single fucking drop.” 

And, well, you’re nothing if not unwaveringly obedient.

Two more drives of his cock, rough and rapid, and then he’s forcing hot, thick cum down your throat, stuffing the column full with his potent seed.

It’s so much, too much, and you sputter around him, the syrupy substance overflowing back up your throat and into your mouth to seep, slow and sticky, past the tight seal of your mouth.

But he helps you with that, too, holding your head still and pressing your face tightly to his pubic bone, ensuring that his cum shoots straight down your throat as his cock continues to throb weakly, weighting your tongue. 

And you, obedient little girl that you are, devour all of it, even the few stray dollops of cream that managed to escape your mouth and roll down his balls, tongue curling hungrily around them and sopping up the remnants with gentle sucking. 

Truly, you did not waste a single fucking drop. 

And he’s so proud of you. 

“C’mere, precious,” he’s breathing out once he’s sure you’ve swallowed it all, releasing his grip on your skull and hoisting you up, strong hands hooked beneath your armpits. 

He hauls you to your feet in one fluid movement, pliant legs struggling to find stable footing on the tiled floor, and props you up against his body, supporting you. Those big hands cup your jaw, tilting your face to his, aquamarine flying across your features—quick, but efficient—and surveying the damage.

“You were so perfect,” he murmurs, sowing a smattering of chaste kisses along the top of your head. “You were so, so perfect for me.” 

A response hitches in your throat, mangled by the sob desperately attempting to claw past it, and Alhaitham frowns, concern creasing his forehead. 

“Hey, you okay? Huh?” gentle palms tip your head up even further, thumbs killing tears as they swipe over your cheekbones. “You okay, sweetheart?” 

“M’fine, Sir,” you croak out, voice ruined but eyes filled with reverence. “Th-Thank you for giving me your cum.” 

The worry saturating his features is eradicated in an instant, eroded by tender awe, his lips twitching into a small smile as his eyes sweep across your face again—slower, this time, more deliberate, appreciative—thumbs continuing their soft caress. 

The sudden shouting of his name decimates any potential response before it has a chance to form in his mouth, a low growl of irritation rumbling in his chest. 

“Yeah,” he calls back, the moment the washroom door swings open, effectively halting the perpetrator in their steps. “I’ll be there soon. Give me a moment.” 

His voice is hard, stern, cold yet dripping with authority, the meek messenger squeaking out some semblance of acknowledgement before rushing from the room. 

You’re still sniffling, cheeks stained with dried, crusty salt, hair mussed and messy, and his frown returns as he looks back at you, his features pinched, reluctance weighing heavy on his form. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” 

“I am,” you nod in his grasp, finally standing on your own two feet, as if to prove it. “Promise.”

His eyes hold your own for a moment longer, assessing, before he accepts your answer as truth, fingers beginning to fuss with his dishevelled tie. 

“All right,” he sighs out the words as he primps, palms smoothing down his shirt, wrinkles casualties from your fingers. “Take your time to regain your bearings.” He looks up, a sardonic grin on his face. “I, unfortunately, have business to attend to. Such is the life of a Sumeru professor.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure it’s such a drag to be faculty at the top university in the world,” you snort. 

“Enjoy your ignorance while it lasts,” he retorts, but his smile has softened to something playful. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

“Looking forward to it, Sir.” 

“Good.” 

He refolds his lapels one last time, squaring his shoulders as he mentally prepares, turning toward the stall door.

“Oh, and uh,” hand curled around the stall handle, he pauses, throwing a glance over his shoulder, eyes shining with something mischievous. “Maybe next time you can actually ride my cock, like you wanted to.” 

Head quirking, confusion crinkles your brow, your eyes searching his face. Next time?

A smirk spreads across his lips, smug and supercilious. 

“See you in class on Monday, Teaching Assistant.” 

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Epel Felmier - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Epel: I'd been hearin' this place was just some fancy museum, 'cept it's way huger 'n I thought.

Epel: We ain't got a museum back home, so… Seein' all these paintin's hangin' 'bout's just crazy!

???: Look at that apple, it's so red and shiny! Totally looks photo-worthy ♪

Epel: Ah, Cater-san! Yeah, it's a really beautiful apple, huh. Although, it's pretty hard to get them this red even with a ton of effort.

Cater: Eh, really? Epel-chan, you sure know your apples ♪

Epel: Ehehe, that's because I'm from a family of apple farmers. I don't think anyone knows more than me when it comes to apples!

Cater: I see～

Cater: Y'know, the queen here looks like she's talking with the crow as she offers it the apple. What do you think she's saying?

Cater: Since even someone well-versed in the world of apples like you thought it's a great looking one, thinking she's saying something like, "Doesn't it look delicious?"

Epel: Nah. I think she's saying, "It's not for you!"

Cater: Eh! So mean!

Epel: Well, yeah!! Like, back home, we'd always have crows trying to nab our apples…

Epel: They'd damage them, poke holes in them, drop them half-eaten on the ground…

Epel: I can't stand them for treating our delicious apples like that!!

Epel: It'd be bad if we couldn't ship out our apples, so the village would band together every year to try to keep them crows out.

Cater: THE WHOLE VILLAGE!? Must be a pretty touch sitch. What kinda stuff do you do to get rid of them?

Epel: We'd put up nets, or make noises that the crows wouldn't like… And a bunch of other stuff.

Epel: But those guys are pretty smart, so we can only get rid of them for a short time… They always come back once they realize they're not in danger.

Epel: That's why whenever them crows came back, I'd jump on my broom and hoot 'n holler while chasing after them!

Cater: You'd hoot and holler while chasing after them!? Based on how petite you look, I couldn't imagine you doing something like that…

Epel: If I don't give them a good scare, they'll just keep coming back.

Epel: A few of the crows were more persistent, so I'd get worried that I'd run out of magic while trying to chase them.

Epel: But, thanks to all that, in the end, whenever I was in the orchard, the crows wouldn't come anywhere near it!

Cater: Pretty amazing of you to scare away all those annoying crows that had the whole village in a bind ♪

Epel: Eheheh, thank you.

Cater: If we're talking about when you were back home, that means this all happened before you came here, right? So basically, would you say you're a pretty good flier, Epel-chan?

Epel: Yep! The guys in the Magical Shift club'll praise me up and down for being able to chase down erratic discs.

Cater: Niiice, all your experiences with those crows are probably coming in handy, then.

Epel: Oh, when you put it that way, I guess so…!

Epel: I thought they were just a pain in my side, but… Those crows were useful in their own way too, I guess?

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Cater: This painting… It's a scene from the tales of the kind-hearted princess. Ahh, a nighttime date on a magical flying carpet is so romantic ♪

Epel: Is that what this is? Oh, the magic carpet is holding something. Is this… a flower?

Epel: It's really drawn so lifelike. It looks like it was just freshly picked…

Cater: Ahaha. So I take it you're more interested in fresh flowers than a romantic date, Epel-chan?

Epel: I-I mean, when weeds are pulled out, they shrivel up pretty fast…

Epel: And even cut flowers need to be put into a vase as soon as possible, or it loses its vibrancy.

Cater: Really? Looks like you're just as in the know about plants as you are with apples.

Epel: Ehehe. I'm studying really hard right now so that I can be more useful to my village whenever I head back home.

Epel: I've been working on potions that'll keep plants from withering, or help them grow…

Epel: Recently, I've been growing my own plants so I can test my potions on them.

Epel: I panicked a bit when one of the pots broke when I was in the middle of testing out a new potion…

Cater: Eh!? You saying that it grew crazy fast, or something!?

Epel: Oh, no, no! I can't make potions that great yet, or with any effect, really…

Epel: Basically, it just fell because one of my roommates bumped their hand into it while they were getting ready for class.

Cater: Did you get hurt at all? It'd be bad if our cute little Epel-chan got injured!

Epel: Cute…!? …Urgh, yes, I was fine.

Epel: I had to clean up the broken pot and scattered dirt, so I was more worried about being late to class.

Epel: I planned on hitting up the school store afterwards to get another pot, since I didn't have any spares…

Epel: But Jack-kun, my classmate, shared one of his spare pots! I was able to move my plant into that one right away.

Cater: Hm? Why did Jack-kun…? Oh, right. He raises cacti, right?

Epel: Yeah! How did you know?

Cater: I remembered him posting a picture of a cactus on Magicam once. There wasn't any description, so I didn't really get what the picture was supposed to be of at first…

Epel: That must have been the cactus that Jack-kun's been growing, yeah.

Epel: He really tries to take good care of it, and had spare pots laying around.

Epel: So, when I said I broke my own plant's pot, he gave one to me, saying it was in return for some apples I gave him once.

Epel: Cater-san, are there are plants that you take care of?

Cater: Hmmm, I mean, there's a ton of plants in my dorm. But I don't think I'd ever really get around to raising some myself.

Epel: Yeah, it really takes time and effort to raise plants.

Epel: That's why it feels double awesome whenever the plant's flowers bloom or fruit grow!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Epel: Oh hey, it's a painting of the Queen of Hearts! Both she and the animals on her shoulder look pretty proud of themselves.

Cater: It says that this is a painting depicting the scene where the Queen of Hearts had just secured her victory in a croquet match.

Cater: According to legend, the Queen of Hearts was able to hit shots that just curved right into the hoops.

Epel: Shots that curved right into the hoops!? I can't even do that when I aim for them… She's awesome!

Cater: Oh, so you've played croquet before?

Epel: Yes! Last weekend, Ace and Deuce asked me to help them practice.

Epel: Grim-kun and [Yuu]-san also joined us. It was supposed to just be practice, but we kinda ended up playing an actual match…

Epel: Hehe, we really got into it then.

Epel: By the time we finished the game, we were all so hungry. So we all just went to Foothill Town to eat.

Cater: Niiice～ Ah, so young and carefree. And let me guess, you guys went to a hamburger joint?

Epel: Eh, how did you know!?

Cater: When it comes to a joint in town that's affordable even for students, I can't really think of anything much other than that chain restaurant～

Epel: Oh yeah, Ace-kun said something like that too. But it's not like I knew of the restaurant before I came to Sage's Island.

Cater: Are you more the type to avoid fast food hamburger joints?

Epel: I wouldn't say I avoid them… It's a bit of a car ride to get to their closest chain back home, so I haven't had much opportunity to go, is all.

Cater: Oh wow. I totally thought they had a place set up pretty much everywhere, since it's even on this remote island.

Epel: Yeah… When I told Ace-kun and Deuce-kun, they were pretty surprised as well.

Epel: Until those two told me, I didn't even know that they did free refills at this restaurant...

Cater: Hm? I mean, I don't think it's just that one joint that does that, but the whole chain.

Epel: Eh, you mean that's not something only here at Sage's Island!?

Epel: Then that means I could have had free refills in the restaurant I went to back home… I didn't know at all.

Epel: What a waste, I'd only ever get one drink whenever I'd go. I'll have to let my family know next time I head back home.

Cater: Yeah, yeah. Whenever there's free refills, it's so easy to just lounge there forever, too～

Epel: Yeah! And that day, we got really caught up in conversation that it started to get dark… We had to hurry back to campus.

Cater: Oh, I see, I see. Well, thanks for getting along with my little freshie brethren.

Epel: What, you don't need to thank me! I had a ton of fun hanging with them.

Epel: Ah, wait, I'm sorry, I've kept you here a while now!

Cater: Don't worry about it, I was happy to chat with you ♪ I think I'll head off to the museum's café now.

Cater: I heard their menu is themed after the various exhibits here, so. See ya around, Epel-chan.

Epel: Right, see ya. …Well, Vil-san told me to learn a thing or two about beauty while I'm here, so I guess I'll go look around for a painting of the Fairest Queen.

Epel: Oh hey, there's another painting with an apple on it! This one looks really tasty, too.

Epel: Oh yeah, I remember when I was a kid, I heard the story of how the Fairest Queen cast her magic on apples, and would try to pretend to do the same.

Epel: And I'd chant… "Now, turn red. Tempt anyone and everyone to make them hunger for a bite…"

Requested by Anonymous.

[otomiyaa]

Day 2: Accident

Chilchuck x Senshi | Nim's Lovely Tickletober

Word Count: 1.3K

Accidents in the dungeon. They weren't really uncommon. Dangers, monsters, traps, the dungeon was full of them.

However this.... Chilchuck could cry in embarrassment. This was the literal worst!

"Can't you use your magic?" he heard Laios' muffled voice.

"Too dangerous. I don't want to hurt him," Marcille answered.

There was a tiny accident, Chilchuck... Well yes, to put it bluntly, he got stuck. And for what!

The one to blame, Senshi, hadn't said a word so far. When they found a dirty hole in the wall, apparently used for taking cover by some tiny dirty monsters, with dirty slimy remains in there, he had asked Chilchuck to get in there to retrieve them. Who knows they might be edible.

It was also Senshi's fault that Chilchuck agreed to it. It was because Senshi was so sweet, charming, and convincing that Chilchuck said yes to such a ridiculous request. And now he was stuck! He struggled heavily but found he couldn't get himself out.

"I have an idea. If we try to rub some slime on him, right here," Laios said, and Chilchuck yelped when suddenly he could feel him try to wriggle a finger between him and the rock wall.

"Like, all over him, and then try to pull him out, maybe it'll go better."

"Stupid plan! Just pull my legs!" Chilchuck yelled, but he was ignored as Marcille agreed.

"We saw some slimes in the previous room, didn't we? Should we go get them?"

"Yes, let's go. Senshi, guard over Chilchuck please!"

Chilchuck couldn't believe that Laios and Marcille didn't come up with a better plan. Slam the wall? Sure he might get hit by some rocks and possibly die if his head got crushed, but it was better than dying of humiliation here. Yank him out with Marcille's magic or brute force? It'll hurt, probably, or rip him apart, but why not just try?

There was a brief silence while Chilchuck continued to struggle. Then Senshi's voice could be heard.

"I'm sorry, Chilchuck. I was greedy and did not consider your safety."

Chilchuck could hear Senshi felt guilty, aww. He didn't really blame him.

"....It's not your fault," he sighed. "It was my poor insight too. Usually I fit into holes like this. Oh well, those two are probably going to take ages and it doesn't smell nice in here. Can you try to pull my legs?" Chilchuck asked.

He heard Senshi hum. "I don't want to hurt you, Chilchuck."

"You won't. Just try!" Chilchuck demanded. He felt two big and gentle hands on his legs, and he blushed. Oi, why blush though?

"It doesn't work," Senshi said after a few very poor pulls.

"You're being too gentle. Pull harder," Chilchuck said.

"I can't. You're in too tight," Senshi said, and just like Laios had done, he tried to wriggle a thick finger between him and the wall. Chilchuck yelped.

"Sorry, did that hurt?" Senshi quickly apologized.

"No! It just tickles! Try to pull my legs again, it's gross in here!" Chilchuck whined. He made the mistake to flail his arms and planted his hand accidentally in the slimy monster liquid he was supposed to get out of here. Ew, Senshi wanted them to eat this?!

Senshi was quiet for a moment before he spoke again: "So it tickles. You are ticklish, Chilchuck?"

"It wouldn't tickle if I wasn't ticklish," he answered.

"Hmm." Senshi hummed again, and all of a sudden, Chilchuck felt his fingers wiggle deliberately against his exposed sides.

"HEEEHE! Sehehenshi!" he cackled.

"I see," was Senshi's dry answer. Chilchuck's eyes widened as Senshi's big fingers continued to prod against his helplessly exposed tickle spots.

"Wahahait! Why ahahare you- eeehehee!" Chilchuck squirmed and struggled as much as he could, but damn he was as stuck as he could be!

"I think if you're feeling ticklish enough, you might loosen up and be able to struggle free," Senshi said. "It is worth a try."

Chilchuk clenched his teeth and continued to giggle. "Nohohoh wahahait- ehehehe that's- AAHhah!" he cried.

Senshi's touches were gentle but also... so ticklish. He wasn't sure if this was going to be any better than covering himself in slime in order to get out of this. But there wasn't really a way to tell him if he could only laugh and snort like an idiot.

"Ah, here too," Senshi said in this 'eureka'-tone when he moved his hand under Chilchuck to tickle his tummy.

"AAHAH! Sehehenshi! Not thehere!"

"It doesn't hurt, right?" Senshi asked.

"Nohoho but it tihihickles!"

"That's good. Keep it up," Senshi encouraged. Chilchuck was dying in here. He kicked his legs and struggled, he laughed hysterically and - OH. He felt movement. His body twisted slightly.

"There you go. Keep moving," he heard Senshi's comforting voice through his own embarrassing cackles.

"GAhahaah! Naha- I cahahan't!" Chilchuck howled. Such humiliation. He was a grown man! Stuck in a hole! Tickled to tears!

"I think you can get out soon," Senshi said, and he grabbed both sides of Chilchuck's waist and tickled him with a few gentle touches, his fingers wiggling slightly, while at the same time pulling carefully. Chilchuck felt himself move. It was working, but he was also still laughing like a stupid fool.

"Ahhaahalright! N-no mohohore tihhickling!" he warned, but somehow Senshi might have heard 'more tickling' instead since the tickles only increased, and Chilchuck struggled and jerked so violently that he just popped out all of a sudden.

"HWahe!" he squeaked as the force of his sudden release caused Senshi to topple back, with Chilchuck right in his arms. Ending up on top of Senshi, Chilchuck covered the both of them in the green sticky monster liquid.

"You're out. That's a relief," Senshi said, rubbing Chilchuck's back as he gasped for air. He was still embarrassed but also too tired to struggle out of Senshi's strong grip, so he just rested in his arms and breathed slowly.

"Y-yeah. Thanks."

He then jolted when Senshi swiped a finger down his back, and he yelped. "EEEP!" he cried.

"Ah, sorry," Senshi apologized. "Did that tickle? I swear that was by accident," he admitted, and he showed his finger that had picked up some of the monster liquid from Chilchuck's back. He then put his finger in his mouth to taste it.

"DON'T!" Chilchuck warned, but Senshi already licked his own finger clean and nodded.

"It's not that tasty. Don't worry, I don't think it's poisonous," he said as Chilchuck gaped at him in horror.

"It might be more tasty if I mix it with - oh, they're back," Senshi said, and they both looked up to see Laios and Marcille arrive.

"Chilchuck, you're free!" Marcille dropped the slimes she was carrying and hugged Chilchuck, sandwiching him between her and Senshi, accidentally covering herself in the green monster stuff as well. She made a face as soon as she realized.

"Oof. Yes, yes, I'm free now," Chilchuck mumbled with a blush, and he glanced over Marcille's shoulder at Laios who gathered the slimes.

"Well, we've got plenty of slimes now. Should we make something for dinner?" he suggested. Senshi nodded.

"We can try to mix some of this too," he said, rubbing with his finger against Chilchuck's side to get more of that green stuff. Chilchuck let out another yelp and quickly covered his side.

"S-sehenshi!"

"Ah yes, Chilchuck is ticklish," Senshi said when Marcille and Laios looked up in shock after hearing his little yelp.

"Senshi!" Chilchuck whined, but to his horror, Marcille and Laios both wiggled their fingers eagerly.

"Oh he is~?"

"Chilchuck is... ticklish?"

Chilchuck backed away. "N-no stay away! I'm dirty! I'm- noooooo!"

He fell back against Senshi and once again began to laugh his head off as both Marcille and Laios attacked him with tickles. This was so completely unfair! R.I.P.!

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hi, this is my first time making a request so I hope I'm doing it right. If I am may I please request a part 2 to the "you are not hunted" because I am currently OBSESSED with Gawtin (a little to much) and just re-read the whole masterlist and came upon this post making me want to know what happens next. You can ignore this is u want but I want you to know I love your work and hope your having a great day/evening <3

You Are Not The Hunted Part 2

Character: Gawtin (female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3019

Summary: This giant alien takes you from your friends, from your home. She traps you in her bedroom, the safest place to be. You are claimed to be her pet from that moment forward. And well... you don't take that very well.

Author Note: Ehehehe, I'm so glad you are obsessed with her! There's no such thing as too much with Gawtin. Love her as much as you want! I appreciate all the love!

Part 1

Masterlist

Ao3

Now, onboard Gawtin’s ship, reader is both terrified and angry that this thing took them. Reader tries to fight their way off the ship but Gawtin easily overpowers them and pins them to a wall. So, they tried to escape by wedging the door open or smashing the keypad. They get electrocuted by accident. When Gawtin tries to feed them, that doesn’t work. Reader refuses to eat even when Gawtin uses her presence to scare them.

Despite the pounding of your fists against the creature’s sturdy back, it did nothing to make her even flinch. She continued to strut through the forest you were once enjoying. Your screams rung through the trees. Your friends lost between the trunks and foliage. Tears slowly ran down your cheeks. The world taking a darker turn as you’re carried away from them.

In this position, you spotted a weapon hanging from her waist. A machete. You instantly reached for it and attempted to pull it off of its fixed position. A hand engulfed yours before you could make contact with it. It held a firm grasp but not enough force to crack any bones. You struggled again. Your hand couldn’t be retrieved.

Her feet stopped. Your body slid down her front and landed unsteadily on your feet in front of her. The large alien snatched both of your wrists and crowded into your space. Instinctively, you took steps backwards to get away from her. Until the curve of your spine met the rough texture of a tree trunk. A gasp sounded from your throat.

Each of your wrists were lifted high above your head and pinned to the bark. They were easily held in one of her hands. A snort sounded from the creature. “You… do not think,” she uttered. Her free hand pinched something out of a pouch on her side. Rope was held between two fingers. She brings it up to your wrists. Your brows jerked up towards your hairline. You doubled down the fight and tried to slip out by taking off the weight on your legs. That only pulls painfully on your shoulders. The creature still has a firm grip on you.

Talently, the alien is able to tie your wrists together with one hand. Then, she throws you back onto her shoulder like you weighed nothing to her. With her size, you believed that as a fact.

The journey began once more. She carried you through the forest. The speed she took only made the trip short but sweet. Her form stopped. Her arm holding onto your thigh lets go for a moment. You hear a beep then a hiss. Curiosity got the best of you. You tried to lift yourself up to peer over her shoulder. She makes a short but warning growl. Your survival instincts force you to lay back down against her back, limp.

All you had to do was play along and hope for survival.

A new scene greeted you. She had walked up some sort of ramp and entered… something out of this world. Alien. This was a ship. A spacecraft. The angle hurt your neck but you took in everything you saw. From what looked to be storage all the way to main area of the vessel. She passed a door before one opened up for her.

Muted colors made up the interior of the ship. In the room she took you into, skulls were the first thing that greeted you. A terrified scream pierced the air. The fight entered your veins again. You kneed and punched and even bit to get her to let go you. It didn’t matter if your hands were tied together. You fought for your survival.

Snarls erupted from the creatures throat. Your body was harshly tugged off of her shoulder and dropped onto the floor. Your knees gave out. You were forced to lay back while peering up at her. Her metal mask made it impossible to see her expressions. The muscles that lined her shoulders and chest were tense. You whimpered and scrambled backwards, legs kicking to get away from her.

“Stop,” her rough voice demanded. The green creature ate up the space you desperately put between the two of you. Her hand grasped at the limited space between your own tied up ones and pulled you closer to her. You kicked at her shins.

A sharp huff escaped her. “Stop. I will not harm you.” You could see the blurred reflection of yourself staring back at you. Your head rapidly shook no.

“Let go of me!” you yelled at her and tugged harder. The rope painfully dug into your wrists. Yet, it didn’t budge. “Please, don’t kill me.” Her words had gone flying over your head. You were in such a state of panic, you weren’t listening. Your ears had blocked out all other sounds besides the race of your heart. Survival to see another day.

The grip on the bindings didn’t loosen or falter for even a second; despite your constant kicking. She held strong in her stance. Her other hand came around and grabbed you by the throat. It easily encircled one of the most fragile parts of your body. You instantly froze, paralyzed to the spot. One wrong move and she could snap your neck like a twig.

“Now, listen. I will not harm you. You are my pet now.” You accidently yelled out a ‘what?!’ which caused her to squeeze your neck in a threatening manner. A whimper fell from your lips. “No harm shall come to you under my care. You will be cared for, fed, clothed.” You fearfully looked into her purple eyes that kept you froze to the ground.

“W-why?!” you sputtered out and fought back the tears desperate to dribble down your face.

Her thumb on your neck caressed along the artery hidden between skin. “I have watched you for some time, little one. You intrigue me.” Heat blotted your features. How long has she been watching you?! Oh god. You’ve not felt eyes on you in what was thought to be the safety of your home. “I have made you mine, under my kinds law. I lay claim to you as my pet.”

Every time she called you ‘pet’ made your stomach twist with a sick feeling. Out of all the things to happen to you in your life. To be made a pet to an alien wasn’t plausible in your mind.

Yet, the new situation that surrounded you was evident of your new issues. You swallowed hard, chest stuttering with each intake of air. Your ribs felt like they were constricting your lungs, squeezing out the air in them.

The corners of your vision began to darken. Each new breath was faster than the last. Your eyes glazed over. Her grip around your neck loosened to the point you could almost just drop down the floor. That didn’t help ease up the issue you were causing to yourself.

Both of your hands went to the center of your chest, feeling them move underneath your fingertips. You tried to slow down your breathing. The danger no longer as high of a threat now. But, your body didn’t feel that way. The panic kept building and building. Until darkness overtook your sight and left you limp in the creature’s hold.

When you awoke next, you sat up with a gasp, hands flying to your throat in terror. Nothing held you in place. Your body acted before your mind had a chance to think. All of your limbs forced you to back peddle until you smacked into a hard, flat object. The wall. You pressed yourself against it, limiting the places something or someone could come and attack you.

Your hands gripped at your unkept hair. Whatever dream – or nightmare – that had controlled you during your sleep caused it. You swiftly swivel your head back and forth. The room was empty, bare from anyone or anything. All besides the three skulls on top of the door frame across from you.

One of them was a human skull.

Instantly, your chest began to heave. She was going to turn you into that. Every word from before had flew straight over your head. Actions speak louder than words. And if by the looks of the other skulls that decorated the… bedroom, she’s lying to you. You were no pet, nothing more than another trophy on the wall. These were all trophies.

Wait! Her bedroom?! You finally took in the space and its contents. Currently, you had been placed on top of what looked and felt like a bed. Furs covered it. All from different looking creatures she’s probably killed herself. And that was going to be you next. You shuddered and hugged yourself, slightly rocking yourself in a pacifying manner. It did little to quell the quaking of your lungs or the stuttering of your heart.

One wall had an open doorway that seemed to lead into a bathroom. You were unsure in the darkness that nearly consumed the whole space. Only a low light came from the running boards that lined the walls. It was just bright enough to barely make out the skulls and other animal bones that decorated the bedroom. All of them signs of what will happen to you next.

Light flashed bright. It temporarily blinded you. A yelp echoed back at you. Your face scrunched up, eyes unable to accommodate the sudden light so quickly. But the click of talons on metal had a shiver running down your spine, rattling your bones. You tried to fight off the pain to find her.

A warm hand cupped your chin and tilted your head up. The touch had your heartrate spiking even higher than before. Your hands shot out and smacked against a firm, muscular arm that didn’t yield to your attacks. She didn’t even make a single sound of distress and simply held you in place. It was evident that her strength greatly outweighs your own. In multiple ways she’s shown you.

“Calm down, little one,” she grumbled and pinched your chin only slightly harder to gain your attention. You whimpered. Finally, your eyes worked with you to open and find the giant alien leaning over the side of the bed. One of her hands was holding up her weight while the other held your jaw. Your gaze flickered down to the arm on the bed, knowing there was a chance you could kick it out. That may drop her to the bed. Then what? She’ll easily roll over, sit up, and tear your head off of your shoulders for doing such a thing.

“I have told you, you are not in harms way. There is no reason to panic.” Her voice was a rumble, deep. A tone you weren’t use to when it came to feminine figures. Nor did she fit the standards for humans. The only thing you could notice was a slight pronunciation of her chest and wider hips. Besides that, the thickly corded muscles that lined her figure, deep voice, and aggressiveness made you think of her otherwise. That only made you wonder what the male looked on her side of the species.

Your eyes completely stopped hurting from the light and opened all the way. Shyly, you had tucked your head to the side. Not once did you take your eyes off of her. If you were going down, you were going to take every chance to survive. No matter what.

The alien chuffed then released your chin and straightened her posture. She reached towards the end of the bed and push a tray towards you. “Food. Eat. You will need your strength.”

That through you in for a loop. Why in the world would you need your strength if she was going to turn you into one of her trophies? Your gaze narrowed on her, questioning on her intent. What was her point? What was she doing?

“I’m not hungry,” you stated, eyes flickering down to the steaming plate of food for only a second. The scent waft up into your nose and caused your stomach to growl loudly. Heat flushed to your cheeks instantly. “You didn’t hear that.” Now, she won’t believe you for even a second.

Her head tilted to the side. Her mask was still in place, covering whatever lay underneath. All you could read was her body language and hoped it was at least similar to humans.

She pushed the tray close enough to knock it against your shin. You refused to take your eyes of her for even a second. Every moment in a fight counts. Even in one that looks like you won’t win. You’d rather go down trying than willingly give up. “I told you, I’m not hungry.” Thankfully, your stomach decided not to interrupt the conversation.

Clicking sounded from behind the mask. Your brows furrowed, instantly trying to make sense of the noises. It didn’t sound like tongue clicking. It was far too fast. You leaned away from her the best you could with a wall behind you.

“What will get you to eat?” she asked of you in an annoyed tone of voice. She seemed done with your antics. Your heart began to thunder in your ears. Panic settling back into your veins again.

The food smelled wonderful. It was hot and fresh by the looks of it. But, she had made it. There’s a chance she poisoned it. Who knows? She may have the strength to kill you with her bare hands, but what if she’s insane. She has to be since she kidnapped you out of all of your friends. And her wording from before. She had wanted just you. As if she had been stalking you this entire time, picking out a target to become a new plaything.

Fear drew you away from her, scooting towards the side. Until you had the chance to slip off and get onto your feet. “Just let me go, okay? I don’t know what I’ve done to get kidnapped but please. All I want is to go home,” you pleaded with all of your heart. You knew it was going to get denied. There’s a hidden reason she wanted you. More than her calling you her pet. That had to be.

She bowed her head and shook it with disappointment, flowing off of her. “Paya, give me strength.” You heard her uttered barely above a breath. Her head raised so the eye sockets of the mask found your face. The intense stare from her behind the mask was nearly paralyzing. “Listen to me closely: you are my pet now. You will not be harmed. You are not leaving. I have laid my claim over you.”

With the words repeated straight to your face for the fifth time, you paused in your tactical retreat.

The nearest object appeared in your hand a millisecond before it went flying through the air. “No!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, face flush with heat. The next thing you went was nearly in your hand when you felt a presence behind you.

One thickly corded arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you up and off the ground. Your feet kicked wildly, striking every part you could reach. None of it did the damage you wished to see. She only grunted when you hit her knee in a particular spot. Then, she was sitting down on the bed and hold you in her lap. Your back to her chest. That same arm still snug and secure around your waist.

A deep, vibrating purr erupted from her throat and skipped across your skin. Goosebumps arose across your flesh, pebbling the tissue.

Before you had time to realize the effects, your tense muscles began to loosen. Confusion overridden your features. You struggled weakly in her grasp. Then, you went slack against her chest. The purr acting like a drug had added to your system.

“Good,” she interrupted the sound for only a second. Her other hand came up and petted the top of your head. You further relaxed against her, eyes nearly drifting shut. Your heart even slowed back down to normal.

“What… what did you, you do to me?” you slurred and titled your head back to see the underneath of her mask. In your dazed, doused state, you reached up and poked the exposed portion of her jaw. Weird looking jaw. You attempted to hook your finger under the metal and tug it free. She caught your wrist before you fully committed and put it down by your side. “What are you…?”

The alien paused, including the purring. It still affected you heavily despite the silence now entering the air. You were able to think clearer without the constant sound. She let go both of your waist and wrist and reached for the mask. Your eyes grew to the size of saucers. Was she truly going to expose her features to you? Oh god, what did she look like?!

When the mask was pulled off, a hiss of depressurized air sounded in the room. Your brows furrowed at the noise. She continued the move until you tensed back up. All the dopamine in your system instantly went out the window.

She was surely alien and completely inhuman. But… not ugly? You felt weird to think such a thing. Her head was massive with a dome-like shape that elongated the back of her skull. Piercing purple eyes were sharp and deadly to look in. Four mandibles acted like her lips, each ending in a lethal looking fang. Expect one had signs of a fracture. On the out edges of the dome had beige colored spikes that almost created a full crown.

You gulped down the lump in your throat and stayed still. It wasn’t just her claws and strength that could kill you, those mandible could easily gouge an eye out.

“I am Gawtin,” she announced and set the mask off to the side. “And, like I have said, you will be staying with me.”

[flufffilleddonut]

Eggcellent Comfort

Summary - Sir Pentious is upset, worried that he will never be able to accomplish his goals, with his talent going unrecognized. His little minions, however, will stop at nothing to cheer up their boss.

Word Count - 600

-

Sir Pentious’ eggs were in his room at the Hazbin Hotel. Their usual black suits were replaced with yellow pajamas, and their top hats replaced with small, yellow nightcaps.

The Egg Boiz were sitting around, awaiting the arrival of their boss, when, suddenly, the door to the room opened. A downcast Sir Pentious slithered in.

“Boss!” “Hiya Boss!” “We missed you, Boss!” The eggs said gleefully.

“Good evening, my little Egg Boiz.” Sir Pentious responded, sorrow evident in his voice.

The Egg Boiz could tell that something was up with the serpent, making them upset as well.

“What’s wrong, boss?” “Why are you upset?” “Did somebody hurt you?”

Sir Pentious sighed as he changed into his pajamas.

“It’s nothing really, Eggies. I just fear that my dream of becoming an Overlord of Hell will never be realized, especially now that I’m trying to be redeemed. Nobody will ever know, or appreciate, the brilliance and glory of Sir Pentious, inventor extraordinaire!” Sir Pentious said, striking a bold pose, before flopping down onto his bed defeatedly.

As Sir Pentious laid there, his eggs hurried over, surrounding him.

“Don’t fret, boss!” “We know you’re the best!” “Nobody compares to you!” The eggs said encouragingly.

Sir Pentious sighed once more.

“Thank you, eggs. At least I know that I will always have the support of my loyal minio- EEK!”

Sir Pentious was cut off with a small shriek, as a sudden shock passed through his nervous system.

Frank the egg had cuddled up to Sir Pentious’ tail, and was stroking it comfortingly, when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

Frank continued running his fingers along the length of the tail as Sir Pentious began softly giggling.

“Ssstop thahahat, ehehehe!” Sir Pentious giggled out.

The eggs took notice of their boss’ reaction to the light touch, and, suddenly, all got the same idea.

The Egg Boiz climbed on top of Sir Pentious and began softly grazing their fingers over the snake’s skin. Some were on his tail, others at his stomach, and one at the hood surrounding the back of Sir Pentious’ head.

Sir Pentious began squirming madly, trying his best to get his minions off.

“SSSTAHAHAP! NOHOHO -hiss- AHAHAHA -hiss- HAHAHA!” Sir Pentious laughed madly, the sound interspersed with hissing noises.

“But why, boss?” “Yeah! You sound happy!” “We just want to cheer you up, boss!” The eggs remarked as they continued, their small, nimble fingers tickling seemingly every inch of the snake.

Frank switched from lightly grazing his fingers along the tail to deliberately digging them in with more force. The other eggs took note of how this caused Sir Pentious’ laughter to intensify, prompting them to follow suit and switch to using the same method.

Sir Pentious tried tossing himself from side-to-side, but the eggs didn’t let up.

“EHEHEGGS! -hiss- ENOHOHOUGH! -hiss- AHAHAHA!” Sir Pentious cackled.

“We have to help the boss out!” “We can’t stop until he’s feeling better!” “I think it’s working guys!” The eggs called out to one another.

“IHIHIM HAHAHAPPY! -hiss- EHEHE! -hiss- IHIHIM HAHAHAPPY!” Sir Pentious managed to shout through his laughter.

The eggs stopped their attack.

“Yay!” “We did it!” “Glad we could help, boss!” The eggs cheered, cozying up to Sir Pentious.

Sir Pentious slowed his squirming, catching his breath. He grabbed hold of one of his eggs, pushing it up against his chest like a teddy bear.

“Thank you, Eggies.” Sir Pentious said, shutting his eyes.

As he was drifting off to sleep, Sir Pentious felt grateful for his eggs. While they may not be the smartest, or the most competent minions, they sure manage to brighten up his afterlife with their eggcitable antics.

-

[a-ikuoliver]

congrats on two years!! what an amazing milestone to hit! 💕 i feel so lucky that i'm here and caught this!

if it's alright with you, i'd like to order one bloody mary (my fav) + one bakugo please. can't wait to see where this drink takes me 🙂‍↕️

bunny!!! thank u so much! n ty for being here my love! i hope you like your cocktail ehehehe birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

a bloody mary, a classic, and the bartenders personal favourite, his speciality, the process second nature to him after years behind the bar; his muscles moving on their own accord to chop the celery, slice a lemon and pour the vodka, juice and sauce. he hardly even measured anymore, the recipe was something he could do in his sleep, he could probably rake in tips doing his pours blindfolded, they were always perfect anyway, he wouldn’t have a thing to worry about.

they’d even started making it a special the nights he worked the bar, but sometimes he needed a break from the monotony of it all, of pouring, of shaking, of measuring, of chopping, of straining. sometimes he just needed a pretty distraction.

“can i get a bloody mary please?” the moment you handed him the token for your free drink, bakugou knew you’d be the perfect choice for his game, so gorgeous, all done up to dance with your friends, your dress a little short and your shoes a little high, you even wobbled a little on your way up to the bar.

“sure you can handle it? we have margarita’s as well,” his eyes rake over you, his tone playful enough, poking fun even as he leans closer, resting his forearms on the dark wood. you stare up at him, distracted momentarily from fiddling with the strap of your shoe, meeting his vermilion eyes, a wicked twinkle shining nearly as much as his pointed canines, his lips pulled back into an easy, confident smirk, “i like bloody mary’s, thank you very much.”

you can’t help the attitude sneaking into your tone; first you wait in line for nearly an hour, your shoes are already hurting your feet, and now the bartender can’t even make you the drink you want? what kind of night did your friends rope you into?

bakugou tries not to let it show how your attitude makes his hips jump, how his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his skull at how you spoke to him, this game was always more fun with brats; getting to watch the attitude melt the wetter he got you, he wouldn’t even have to fuck you to leave your brain blank. nodding, he tried not to let his mind wander too far making your drink, the routine doing nothing to distract him of the thought of you under him, only able to spit out his name.

the chopping, squeezing, measuring and pouring happened before the bass dropped on the song blasting out of the speakers surrounding the bar, the only break in his routine when he got to the tabasco sauce. spinning on his heel to face you once more, he talks again in that infuriatingly seductive voice, “how much can you take, sweetheart?”

if your drink had been ready, you’d have choked on it, the gravelly tone of his voice making your heart spike and your legs wobble, even with the strap of your shoe fixed, “i’m sorry?”

“i’m just askin’ how much heat you can handle, baby,” the expression on his face is anything but innocent, holding the neck of the tabasco bottle between two thick fingers, shaking it gently for emphasis when you stared back at him. with a hot face, your eyes drop to the diamond label, a bloom of embarrassment burning low in your stomach. you were too sober for this kinda flirting.

“oh,” your voice is hardly a squeak, nodding rapidly for him to shake the bottle over the glass again, stirring the glass as he dashed more in,”when.”

“that much? that’s how hot you like it, huh?” he steps closer, impossibly lowering his voice, “c’mon, i know you can take more than that.”

your heart pounds against your chest, your thighs subtly clenching together at the sound of his husky voice, the dirty line making your mind wander further toward the gutter.

“tell me, baby, you want it?” your drink is forgotten underneath the counter, your only focus on the plump of his bottom lip, on the thin chain dangling around his throat, “you want it hot?”

you feel like you need to pinch yourself, surely this is a dream, you didn’t even know this bartenders name—”bakugou! you done with this?”

his eyes don’t falter from yours for a moment, humming deeply in response, “yeah, one second.”

still armed with that lethal smile, he garnishes your cocktail, displaying the neatly chopped celery, two slices of lemon and a couple of leaves of basil beside your straw, the final touches to his speciality. flipping over a napkin, he sits your finished drink atop it, you’re almost certain the drink isn’t as hot as you are right now, your body burning and buzzing without so much as smelling the savoury cocktail. sliding it across the short counter towards you, his dark eyes don’t miss a single one of your movements, eyes sparkling like he could see the daydreams already plaguing you, “enjoy your night, sweetheart.”

[ratsoh-writes]

Give us the FULL backstory of one set of skeleton siblings.

Ehehehe alright, cause I’m sure y’all are interested in the fell bros….

It all began in a distant land called hotland, where red was born to fell gaster! Gaster was deeply in love with Felby, a fire elemental who was a total player. Red was an intentional baby that gaster had in hopes that he would get Felby to commit… and we all know how that worked out.

It didn’t if you were curious

Regretting having a child and resentful of his son, Gaster mostly ignored red for his childhood, only paying him mind when the toddler needed feeding. Red grew up being hyper independent because of this. You can blame gaster for his issues in accepting help from others.

As red grew older, Gaster realized his son could be useful. See red was a very curious child. He has a hunger for knowlege and would try to remake the tools he sees the adult monsters using. Recognizing this talent, Gaster finally took an interest in his son and began teaching him to eventually take a place with the royal engineers that gaster worked with. Compared to being thrown out in the streets of underfells hotland all day, being stuck in the Smokey greasy warehouse lab was like Heaven to child red. He threw himself into his education, determined to keep his place with the engineers who barely tolerated the kid running around.

And of course, just when things were starting to get good, gaster had fall right back into felbys grasp again. The two had an on and off relationship for years now, but this time Felby was around more often. Gaster was sure this time, this time his lover would stay for good. Gaster was strong in the art of science but weak in the art of common sense clearly.

The year red turned 23 was the same year gaster had edge, and the last time red would see Felby again until after the crash. Depressed at his so called “soulmate” disappearing off the face of the underground, Gaster didn’t even fry with edge, leaving all the childcare to red. Red tried to resent his brother, he really did.. but he just couldn’t. Edge was so sweet and soft when he was little. Red would give the world for him if he could. Edge spent the majority of his childhood under reds protection, and was like his older brothers shadow. Edge used to be a cheerful and affectionate kid.

When edge was around 13, gaster snapped out of his depressed funk and turned to the next stage of grief; anger. Gaster began taking out his frustrations on edge whenever red wasn’t around. Having many jealous enemies because of his position, red was unable to leave the safety of the warehouse, but leaving edge to gaster was out of the question either. He couldn’t hide his brother, not with his father being his superior. So red had edge shipped off to the royal guard before things escalated. Edge spent the rest of his childhood there, and the kind streak in him was stamped out, replaced with the cold grouch we see today (well, when he’s around new people that us)

Edge and reds relationship was strained greatly with edges move. Edge viewed this as the one person who gave a damn throwing him away, while red was hurt that his brother blamed him when he did so much for him. Only the passing of their father got the two back in contact. The underfell brothers had a shaky truce until edge got promoted to captain of the snowdin branch of the royal guard. Edge quickly left for his new position leaving red behind in hotland.

With gasters death, things weren’t going so well for red. His father was the whole reason he got the apprenticeship with the engineers. Say what you will about gaster, but he was a powerful monster. Red now had to defend his place on his own, without daddies reputation to back him up. Facing sneak attacks daily, red began to grow paranoid. One evening, he was jumped by three monsters, a would be engineer and his backup. Red escaped, but not unharmed. When edge got word of his brothers condition, he forcibly drug red down to snowdin with him, apprenticeship be damned. At this point it wasn’t worth it.

Red stayed with edge, recovered, and became a bitter and resentful sentry guard in snowdin until the crash. Meanwhile edge had flourished in snowdin, becoming close with his dog guard and the neighboring captain undyne (storm) of waterfall. When the crash happened and the AUs merged on ebott, edge had allies he could lean on as their world was turned upside down.

Sensing the change, and growing hopeful at what ebott could become, edge threw himself into his new home. He got a quick and dirty law degree, helped get many of his dog guard buddies homes and jobs, and even started talking to someone about his own issues. Edge was on the path to… well he isn’t sure but he’s on it! There was just one thing holding him back..

Red. His brother is still acting like ebott was underfell. He was constantly getting into fights with others, skirting the edges of the law, and well edge can only take so much. Red and edge had been fighting constantly since the crash, and these spats kept escalating until edge finally kicked red out of his home.

At his lowest point, red got through the days listlessly. He got a cheap apartment and did small odd jobs to keep afloat. He was angry at the world, scared of the future and without anything to look forward too. The world had f*cked him over and he responded by giving the world his finger. Red was stuck in this funk until he met his first real friend.. oak!

Oak doesn’t remember his first meeting with red. Oak doesn’t remember a lot of things really. Ever since his head injury in horrortale, he’s needed lots of repetition for things to really stick. And he finally got out of the institution he was recovering in. Oak was delighted to move back in with his brother willow! … but stars, he shouldn’t have gone out to get groceries on his own. He thought he could remember his street, he remembers his house now, but apparently the street name hadn’t stuck yet. So he paced around the old beat up gas station as he wracked his empty skull doing his best to recall the street. Meanwhile red, who was working there is loosing his mind as this big scarred stalker skeleton passed by the door for the seventh stars damned time in two minutes!! The first meeting ends with red storming out, yelling at oak angrily to get lost, and a tired sad oak replying that he already is lost. Fed up, red shows oak how to track his brothers phone to find his way home. Oak thanks red profusely, seemingly not bothered by his rudeness and goes on his way

This exact interaction happens at least three more times in the next few days before red just tiredly escorts the forgetful famine skeleton at the end of his shift. Within a month red and oak have become tentative friends. Oak is gentle and frankly too helpless for red to ever feel threatened by. And he seems to think reds dry humor is funny. And oak likes having red around, he never treats him as invalid, and he glares at people who stare at the hole in his skull for too long. It’s nice that red noticed it made him uncomfortable

As their friendship developed over the next few months, red began to unwind around oak and started telling the other his worries. After all, the guy is perfect for secrets. It’s a 70% chance he won’t even remember them anyways. When red first tells oak of what happened with edge, oak was horrified and urged him to reach out. Oak was able to point out from reds story that it’s obvious that edge cared for him still. He compared it to his own perspective, of his old au.. the things he had to do for him and willow to survive. Willow had been angry and betrayed the same way edge had been after oak brought back the first.. you know what. But they stayed together through even the worst part of the famine, not out of survival but out of brotherly love and loyalty. Oak eventually wore red down enough with his story that the paranoid skeleton was willing to give edge one last chance.

Five years after the crash, and two years since their last fight, red knocked on edges door. Shocked and angry, but still happy to see his brother again, edge let red in. For months the two would talk a little bit each week as they tried to slowly repair their relationship. Edge had missed red dearly, and red edge. Finally able to listen, red could see where he hurt edge too, and his little brother pretty much blackmailed red through guilt into seeing the same person he was going to so red could work through what happened in underfell

Two years later, red moved back in with edge, and using his old royal engineer position, was able to secure an entry job at an electric engineers guild. He and edge still fought now and then, but nothing crazy like it used to be.

That’s it for their backstory!

[archivalofsins]

hey, do you remember if mikoto/john ever made any comment about the viewer's opinions? fuuta outright tells the voices to shut up, amane acknowledges them when fuuta asks her about it, and mahiru mostly just feels like her thoughts and love are being rejected. i dont think mikoto/john ever even acknowledge the viewers thoughts about their situation outside the double mv and vd, and even then that could be about what es thinks about them and not the omniscient viewers.

They do!

It's one of the things specifically highlighted by Milgram and Yamanaka within his tweet about Mikoto's voice drama. Through the fact that they recognize and view what Es has deduced through Milgram as valid.

To keep it short. Mikoto references the audience opinions in these instances.

This has been editted to get rid of spellings errors and add more context. Editted on 02/28/24. (There were so many spelling errors to correct don't know if I got them all. I added so much more quotes from the timeline and interrogations and tried to adjust for tone.)

"Eheheh... But...it's not coming to an end. All of this. With things I've never even heard before, the whole ti- The whole time... Haah... I have to see through all of these irritating experiences...!" (Doesn't directly reference Es just that things now feel like they never end. Along with things he's never even heard before.)

"As for alters... Why do you think they're born?" (Specifically asking Es how they think this works instead of divulging any information he's heard from the audience that would in fact be beneficial to Es who after being asked immediately shows they don't know a damn thing about it. Staying consistent with what happened in Amane's voice drama prior.)

"Right. You're decision to not forgive me is especially stress inducing." (Recognition of the punishment attached to the guilty verdict working properly for Mikoto and that's adding to his stress. So, yeah he's hearing the voices.)

"You know that because of Milgram! I don't care about the law, I want to know what you think!"

His birthday interaction from last year. (Him asking if there's really another him implies, he has heard the audience bring it up.)

His birthday interaction with Futa after his verdict.

21/10/06 (Mikoto’s Birthday) Mikoto: ……ah, Futa? What’s up? Did you come to celebrate my birthday? Futa: Hah!? Like I care about your birthday. ……what’s up with you, though, you’re usually a lot more excited. I thought you were the sort of idiot who’d make a big deal over your birthday. Mikoto: Yeah, usually that’d be the case. ……I think I must be getting tired. It’s like I’m anxious over something but I can’t really explain what it is…… Like, the feeling that I’ve been totally wrong about something. Haha, but it’s not like talking to you about it is gonna do anything. Futa: Yeah, yeah, just like you say. Talking to me about it isn’t gonna help. ……but, it’s not like I don’t get what you’re saying. Or rather, I understand exactly what you mean. And if it’s the same thing as I’ve been feeling, then it will just get stronger as time goes on…… probably. But anyway, rather than talking to someone like me you should go and bother the others. Go and get showered with their stupid birthday wishes.

Also, the fact that Mikoto's entire defense for his actions pivoted from I don't remember, and Milgram probably got the wrong guy by mistake to the other one did it. Which not much different from the excuse he gave before but was an excuse widely jumped on and presented by the audience after he was called out for faking for a good period of time and being bad rep. Well, to say the least- It puts a different meaning behind this line,

"“He’s a liar”, you said, and made me out to be a scoundrel, why?"

Since it encapsulates what his first trial was like in a nutshell. Where people either called him out for faking/lying or blamed the alter for all the violent acts making him out to be the scoundrel. People even posited that what we see in MeMe is fake because it's far more graphic than the others and cuts and that this could be due to him having DID and lookie here.

In fact Mikoto's mental footage was so violent... "It's unforgivable." That was my judgment. "That too could be just a fake or attributed to multiple personalities, right?!"

Overall Mikoto, like many of the prisoners, does not state what the audience has told him. However, he heavily implies through his actions he's been told something. What that something is we don't know and given his first verdict percentage he would not be as inclined to tell us as the others would. Hell, even then a lot of others don't tell is. We were never shown what innocent does to a person outside of this from Mu.

21/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday) Mu: Yuno. Don’t you have something to say to me? Yuno: Huh? To you? Me? ……ahh, uh? Your birthday, right? Happy birthday~ Mu: How mean…Since it’s my birthday, I really wish you’d said something before I had to come and tell you myself. Yuno: Right, right, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful in future~ Later! Haha… things have become even more of a bother… ……so was that Mu-chan’s real personality, then? It’s probably because the guard did something, right?

But yeah, since you were just asking if he referenced the audience outside of his voice drama and music video there's no need to read the rest here. What comes after this basically goes over how I tend to tell when the prisoners are subtly referring to the audience and other things but it's very long.

Now onto the interesting stuff. Because I wrote this before rereading the question and seeing you were asking about things outside of the voice drama and song. So, I'm leaving it.

Mikoto discusses the audience in the way similar to how Mahiru does. Never referring to the audience or the voices as an individual entity or directly instead either referring to that as Milgram collectively or referring to it as an extension of Es' actions and decisions.

Even in Double and I Love You neither of them refer to a big group of people but go "You".

"What you trampled is my, “This is how to be in love with you”."/ "“He’s a liar”, you said, and made me out to be a scoundrel, why?"

Unlike the rest of the prisoners who refer to multiple parties, Mikoto and Mahiru couldn't give a damn less about who is causing them problems and considers the audience, Es, and Milgram all the same entity. Never really separating the three. Because they don't care to.

Other prisoners that do this are Haruka, Shidou, and Kotoko if I'm remembering correctly.

"I will definitely make you love me again."-"Hug me again as you once did."

"You don’t even know yet, and yet."- "What do you mean INNOCENT, if this is my punishment... Now I see, this world is cruel and merciless. The vote that negates the option of death, the love that won’t perish."- "No thank you, it’s none of your concern."- "Shall I fulfill your request and elect to live."

"That's why I became your fangs."- "Tell me why you tell me, “Stop'. Don’t you dare stop now."

Kotoko and Shidou do something interesting in their second trial songs having parts where they both directly refer to Es and the audience separately within their songs. Referring to Es at the beginning and then the audience in the second half.

"I want to be INNOCENT, I want to live. So this is unpleasant, hurling slurs of “hostage game”, you do know that it’s up to me? That’s right, there are lives that need safeguarding. So hey, prolong my life, I’m indispensable. The correct answer, I don’t yet know, but there are lives that need safeguarding. So hey, prolong my life, I’m indispensable."

Shidou Trial 2 Voice Drama

"But... as long as Milgram continues in this direction. We won't be able to save those who get injured if I'm not forgiven." ...! "Even now, Shiina-kun is in a condition where any digression could be fatal. She can't live without my treatment. If I'm not forgiven she will end up dying."

Just want to highlight how Shidou uses the same tactic as Mu but somehow what he does ends up succeeding and what she did doesn't. A lot of people may think that's because none of them asked to be put in that situation and Kotoko was the one who attacked. Yet, my honest response to that would be what the fuck is actually stopping Shidou from helping if he was guilty?

Like prisoners who were Guilty once can still move around and interact with others and the things around them. Unless one is assuming that the punishment for being guilty trial two is worse than one. Something I don't believe would make sense and would not be fair considering this would just simply for many of the prisoners be their first time being guilty. Although, this is Milgram so maybe who knows.

Even in a situation where the trial two punishment for being guilty is harsher than trial ones; what the fuck is stopping him from teaching or instructing someone else within the prison on how to help if he were restrained? He even said Amane could be assisting him and Yuno has been. He's very replaceable, actually. So, it's wild this worked.

As we will get into it is wild any of them are getting away with what they are.

He also doesn't say this as if it will change later. Instead he literally states that Mahiru now just can't live without his help which given injuries should not be true. Yet considering that she hasn't been getting better over the course of trial two honestly yeah, I guess he's right.

That's... true I suppose. "From now on conflict between the prisoners will probably become more frequent."

Dude why the fuck does he say this??? Like no I'm being serious why does he fucking say this? Especially considering last we heard from Haruka in his second trial voice drama Shidou and Kazui were meant to have been negotiating a ceasefire? This sounds like something an individual about to start a conflict would say. A person about to throw down if you will.

Like what the fuck does he know in regards to this? The most good faith interpretation is the ceasefire negotiations have failed. Yet, it's still a weird thing to just add. Especially since he says conflicts between the prisoners. Implying that people other than Kotoko may end up instigating fights.

Even though most of the other prisoners are simply attempting to mind their business and he's the only one who directly states hostility towards Kotoko in various ways.

Others that state having animosity towards someone are

Yuno,

Q.11 Which of the other prisoners do you get along with least? Yuno: I wonder. The ones that are painful just to watch are Haruka and Mu-chan.

Futa,

Q.12 Are there any prisoners you don’t get on with? Futa: Can you not tell by looking at my face? Obviously Kotoko.

Mu,

Q.12 Are there any prisoners you don’t get on with? Mu: Yuno has been really cold lately so maybe her a bit.

Shidou,

Q.06 Do you forgive Kotoko? Shidou: No. I can’t forgive someone for trying to achieve thing with violence.

"To extract that fang, now."/“That’s why I became your fangs.”

Oh, and he has some feelings on Mikoto as well.

Q.07 Are there any prisoners you get along with? Shidou: Kayano-kun has become like that, and I can’t spend my time smoking at the moment, so the smoking trio has disbanded, which is a bit lonely.

What those feelings are beyond me. However, he speaks of his current disposition as though it's a problem. So, I'm putting it.

Kazui,

Q.06 Are there any prisoners you don’t get along with? Kazui: To be honest, probably also Kashiki-chan. It feels like she sees through all the things I don’t want anyone to notice.

Amane,

Q.06 Are there any prisoners you don’t get along with? Amane: Kirisaki Shidou.

and Mikoto,

Q.12 What do you think about Kotoko? Mikoto: I don't like her.

It makes sense that we the audience would know whom everyone is hostile towards. Especially since we just blatantly asked in some written interrogations. However, it's not as though many of them have been presenting their hostility towards each other openly.

Outside of Amane and Kotoko everyone else attempts to be cordial with each other or just outright avoid people they dislike. So, it's still weird he would know this unless he's really good at reading the mood and paying attention to others.

Something he has not shown himself to be. Though, maybe he really is. Still considering he has two individuals he'd could possibly have an issues with this really sounds like some shit somebody who wants start trouble says.

"If I'm not there... They will be in even more danger!"

Bitch you will be there- Guilty or not. You're not getting out of this panopticon any earlier unless you see yourself out buddy. Where do you think you go if you're guilty? The sunken place? You gonna mentally tap out because of the guilt and constant bombardment of being told you're wrong by the audience?

Other people who have been Guilty before you with no warning of what that mental or evironmentally entailed were still able to help and speak to others while suffering under the affects of said verdict. The child did it grow a backbone man! You're an adult and apparently you hold a lot of stake in the fact that you are... So, at least make it make sense why you do with your actions.

In case Shidou has forgotten we have a third trial. So, he's just being a fucking manchild here. Does he think we're gonna kill him immediately after he's voted guilty in this second trial out of three? Does he think as soon as the guilty verdict hits Kotoko is going to attack him? That's the most reasonable and good faith interpretation of this statement.

Like she did attack guilty people that's a fair concern to have. Yet, he's currenty being guarded. Because now that an attack has happened once the others are more on guard.

As Yuno implied would be the case,

Q.09 What do you think about Kotoko’s attacks? Yuno: Is she an idiot? Nothing’s going to change in the world if you just act out violently where everyone can see.

If a person just acts out violently where everyone can see most people will reasonnable recognize that person is apart of the problem too. They won't usually assume they're the solution to anything. Plus again the fact that other people were guilty before him and he knows what that could reasonably entail he should be preparing for that possibility. It's clear that he wants to avoid it by any means and is doing his best to do that.

Which I can't fault the man for that's only natural. But-The fuck is Shidou's second voice drama fearmongering 101?! Why the fuck is he acting like this towards the end?

I bet you're thinking Gunsli is this your first time listening to Shidou's voice drama and honestly yeah it is.

This man is in here like what will they do without me. Despite the fact that a majority of viewers have pretty much agreed the child can take him out/is a serious threat to his safety. At the point the previous statement is widely considered a genuine concern true if anyone wants him dead outside of himself in this facility he is going to die. Because we know that from the beginning Shidou has wanted this all to end and to get the death penalty.

That he's been smoking to be unhealthy,

20/08/04 Mikoto: By the way, why did you two start smoking? For me it was just a means for communication with people at work. Kazui: Hm? I don’t really remember……It’s maybe changed nowadays, but in the past it was just natural for everyone to smoke. What about you, Shidou-kun? Do you remember? Shidou: ……I wonder. I suppose…… I just wanted to do something that was bad for me. Mikoto: Ahh, I kinda get that. It’s like eating instant ramen in the middle of the night.

So, he came into Milgram already trying to get out of life in general. So, he can't threaten himself like Haruka can. He's still gunning for that death sentence even now.

"The scale tilts to and fro, I yearn to be found “GUILTY”."

The only thing he can do is what he's always done used the lives of those around him to excuse his actions and validate his own existence.

"But it tilts towards, find me “INNOCENT”. If the voices crying out in pain, can be saved by me- Allow it to be my charge and mission."

Like I don't know why he came in here acting like this verdict gonna make him someone he ain't and never was. Like man you couldn't even take care of your own- You want us to leave you in charge and responsible of even more people. People who have no reason to have to listen to or take him seriously. People who don't even like him.

Meanwhile Shidou's kids in Triage out here looking like they need Yusuke Urameshi not Shidou Kirisaki. What will they do without me? Man I don't know probably have a better grasp of road safety. You know just spitballing some guesses here.

He came in here really pretending to be the guy and for who? Himself because he's fucking weak and emotinally immature. He can't handle the mental stress of a guilty verdict, he couldn't even handle his own social relationships when his wife was alive,

Q.19 What was your partner like? Shidou: A strong person. I tend to be a bit careless in my personal life, so I was always relying on her.

or taking care their kids after she either died or got ill.

Like listening to the end of his second trial interrogation is legit hearing him hype up his own importance. As though he's going to be a meidcal doctor on the frontlines of a war and voting him guilty is equivalent to immediately killing him in front of a bunch of injured civilians. Halting people from getting aid. When that's not what's occuring here at all!

He's still going to be in Milgram and he will still have another trial. Like maybe he thinks that's what's occuring because of Kotoko but that's even weirder. Because there are more people against Kotoko's actions in the prison than for them.

One of which is fucking Kazui who is already guarding him.

Shidou... "I need to be punished... But I also need to stay alive or young lives will be lost."

Oh, Shidou you're such a martyr.... Pushing to the side your selfish desire to die because you're sick of living with yourself, your own failures, and the fact that the things you worked towards weren't the benefit you thought they would be and instead a massive failure-

Q.15 Do you think you’ve made a contribution to society? Shidou: I used to think my work was a contribution to society.

All because you've found something that validates your existence again. Something that,

"Tells me, the reason it’s ok to be here."

Again I need to highlight we're not fucking killing him with this verdict. Telling someone what they did was wrong is nowhere close to comparable to murder. Also, Kotoko can attack prisoners whether they're innocent or not. Jackalope's brought up that the prisoners are allowed to attack each other during the intermission all of them regardless of verdict.

Unless they're physically restrained and thuse made unable to they can still do it. Plus some of them are shown in full restraints within Undercover still ready to attack somebody if needed. It's not like she is completely bound to acting in accordance with Milgram's rules as has been highlighted before.

22/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday) Kotoko: ……Mukuhara Kazui. Thanks to you, I wasn’t able to properly serve justice to those who did something unforgivable. I’m currently acting as an agent for our prison guard Es. Don’t get in my way next time. Kazui: Oi oi, don’t be silly, Yuzuriha-chan. There’s no way I could just look away from your outrageous display of violence. Anyway, even disregarding the fact violence against those voted guilty isn’t a part of Milgram’s system, what you’re doing is just acting recklessly based on a broad interpretation. As long as I’m free myself, I’ll stop you. Kotoko: ……what a pointless argument. Hmph. Since Es forgives you, I have no choice but to forgive you myself too. If you to keep to your words, then you’d best do what you can to keep being forgiven. If you’re not, then next time you’ll be one of my targets. Kazui: Oh, how scary. That girl truly is frightening. ……well then, I wonder what the guard will decide to do with me. That’s the one thing I really can’t make out. Honestly……

Yet, throughout his second trial voice drama he keeps subtly pushing this idea that not only will Mahiru die if we vote him guilty but he will too. That not even really touching on the fact the one to bring up a death sentence or execution as a result of the trials to begin with was Shidou.

He brought it to this point and is now lamenting about it being there like oh what should I do.

"I... I don't know what to wish for anymore. I'm starting to think that I want to live. That I want to be forgiven... Despite being so riddled with sins...! ..." Shidou... Do you remember what i told you? "..." Back when you were still fine with dying at any moment, I told you to deperately want to live. "Punishments for sins exist in the first place because we have an attachment to life. your existence in itself is a sacriliege to Milgram and myself", I said. "Yes... I remember." And now, finally, you've gotten attached to life and finally become a real prisoners of Milgram. That's what I believe. You wanting to be forgiven and your wish... Those are the steps that now represent you. "...That won't do... I musn't be forgiven. Otherwise... the countless lives I've taken will never be paid back." Heh. If you're really trying to give up your life as compensation for the people you've killed, then there's no reason to stay alive that will hold up anyway. "..." Don't face them with a life that you're so willing to throw away.

Es greatly sums up the main issue with Shidou's logic.

He is ready and willing to die.

Yet, all the people he killed weren't. Usually people seek medical attention for help, because they want to live. Because they're in pain and they don't want it to get worse. Thesse are people who are trying to survive and seeking out what they believe is the most appropriate help for either themselves, a family member, hell even a stranger on the street if someone calls an ambulance.

It's incredibly tragic when help doesn't get there soon enough but it's down right dispicable when the help is there and decides no you'll die today because I feel like it. You understand what it's like to have to take in order to give and I need to take from you to give something to myself. We're all suffering and you know some people like myself deserve to suffer less than others so this is just how it has to be.

Since that's the case-

"You're in my way...hurry up and die."

I see no difference between this and this.

"Please, go ahead and die already."

Excpet one of the people making this sort of statement puts a lot of stock in being a mature adult and never acting childishly. While the other is at least emotionally honest about their mistakes.

Why did I bring all of this up? To highlight a key difference between Shidou's voice drama and his song. Es never rebuts Shidou for saying he's the only one that can help or calls what he's doing a hostage game.

Making it more than likely Shidou is referring to the audience and the voices he heard discussing his case or something from his real life given the quotes around the phrase. This is more than likely something Shidou has said in reality or had said to him. I lean more towards the first interpretation when it comes to viewing these put in quotations lyrics as direct snippets of quotes from statements the prisoners have said but I'm not that committed either way.

The point is it highlights that he's not just referring to Es here,

"I want to be INNOCENT, I want to live. So this is unpleasant, hurling slurs of “hostage game”, you do know that it’s up to me? That’s right, there are lives that need safeguarding. So hey, prolong my life, I’m indispensable. The correct answer, I don’t yet know, but there are lives that need safeguarding. So hey, prolong my life, I’m indispensable."

He's instead speaking past Es and directly pleading to the audience or voters.

Which is the same thing Kotoko does here-

"So, make yourselves my reason. Just choose the only choice, GUILTY. Say that sympathy is useless. Hate evil as the evil that it is. Don’t you dare stop now. I want a reason for judgment execution, I want it. Give me the next target “UNDER”."

Notably not stating that she became our fang before that but leading into that again. These lyrics (along with the prisoner 011 line in Kotoko's case) recontextualizes the entire song as a direct plea to the audience with allusions of concern towards Es. Mostly merging the two and going if you're on good terms with me I'll be on good terms with all you and your proxy if not things could get messy.

This showcases that they all see no difference between the audience, Es, and Milgram like stated before.

The ones who are more direct while referring to the audience are Yuno, Futa, Mu, Kazui, and Amane. Instead referring to multiple parties through their songs or one.

"I’m the one who chose, let you and you and you all in."

Yuno mentions two others before stating she let "you all" referring to the audience in.

"Don’t get cocky, you in that cypher."- "Tolerate, impress those spectators."- "This prison hosts ears and lethal eyes, I’m sick of it. You and you, throwing around rules for fun, hoisting up morality and feeling good. Should I succumb, make your wish come true? Full of yourselves, are you?"

Futa seperates the prison host from the audience the spectators. In a way showing off that he views Es as an entity hosting an event and the ones spectating as the actual entity he needs to impress or sway to his side. He's basically going if the audience likes me I'll be fine.

"So, it’s wrong? Oh shove that! INNOCENT, isn’t that right?"

It's a personal dislike of mine. People who act based on their sexual urges like that, that is. "It's personal?" Yeah. That's right. "That's strange. I did think that, despite being neutral as a warden you did have some things you dislike, but..." ... "Isn't it unusual to openly reavel a personal dislike as a personal dislike?" You're splitting hairs. "Seems like you really disliked my crime... I get it! Maybe it's because you're so young... Which is to say... ..." Hah? Stop staring at me so openly. It's disgusting. "..." ... [Es punches him]

Honestly warranted he is making fun of Es for the same reasons Jackalope did in Es' voice drama. Being a bit green behind the ears. Which is never fun. So, of course after that the first thing Es does is do the same thing to Amane in her interrogation after this.

... Now I feel better. "-Ow! What are you doing all of a sudden..?!" It was an instinctive reaction. Don't take it personally. "Would you stop just punching me in the face without any hesitation? ...huh Anyways... That's how it is, huh? That's how it is...?"

Kazui stating "That's how it is..." highlights that he does take note of Es' personal feelings. He not only does that but seems to take a moment to mentally compare them to what he's been hearing from the voices over the course trial one. Really honing in on the fact that Es says them disliking Kazui's crime is a personal thing.

Meaning that Kazui knows full and well that Es' personal opinion does not matter when it comes to the verdict and may have concluded as such. Something made even more clear by his second trial song opening with him telling Es to just go shove it. Fuck off get that nonsense out of here.

Kazui literally forgoes Es' statements on his actions from his second voice drama at the jump of cat like oh well the guard said it was wrong but fuck that- Innocent is the right answer. It's the conclusion you all came to the first time so.

Double down. Hence the-

"Lie, until it gets better, follow the king of the masquerade. Lick that sin and oppose punishment, until you can meet the king of the masquerade."

The only allusion to Es in Cat is,

"So it’s wrong? Oh shove that!"

This is because Es has already said they personally dislike Kazui's crime or people who act based on their sexual desires. Meaning if Kazui's crime is that of a sexual nature trying to sway Es on seeing it any other way is pointless. So, he no longer has an interest in convincing Es his behavior was okay. Plus he's not even really concerned by what the audience themselves have assumed or figured out. Something alluded to through how comfortable he in while singing Cat in comparison to Half.

Amane's is rather straight forward as well. Considering her song starts with direct recognition of the audience/spectators going-

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! It’s the beginning of a most wonderful day! However, there are blasphemers and silent by-standers, who would have it otherwise. We must not give into them, they are the ones that should be judged." - "I disavow you, eyes corrupted must be crushed."

These are the only references Amane makes to the audience and Milgram. Literally going those who agree with me you know what to do. Those who don't well we can't give into those people now can we!

Then there's Mu,

"I am innocent as everybody desires."- "We are just the same. Don’t you think it’s wonderful to control them with my gentle sting?"

Mu compares how what the audience is doing is no different from what she has done. So of course it only makes sense she'd be Innocent. Then specifically speaks of Es after. The one who is also controlling people with their gentle sting. (This statment does apply to the audience as well. Since we're impacting the prisoners through the press of a button a gentle sting/poke. )

The lines calls attention to the emotional and psychological abuse Kotoko points out as being just as bad as what she's doing in her voice drama. Something Es also brings up as a factor in Mu's case during you guessed it her second voice drama.

When Mu says she never really hit anyone herself and Es goes yeah you just had other people do it for you.

"I haven't bullied anyone! I'd never do such a mean thing!" ... "I've never once hit anyone or poured water over anyone's head. I wouldn't do something like that!" ... "I'm not lying. I'm not being dishonest! I really haven't done anything!" I see. I'll take note of that.

Just like Kotoko did with Es. Saying just because you never hit anyone doesn't mean you haven't caused harm or incited it to occur. As Es attempts to highlight they never really used excessive physical violence/took it as far as Kotoko did with the prisoners. Despite the fact that they have hit them and impacted some of them just as negatively as Kotoko has.

Even more so from the admission of Mahiru in her second voice drama.

"I mean it. It doesn't hurt. Compared to the way I felt when you chose not to forgive me... Not at all." ...! "Not at all... Nothing. None of it hurts. It's not...as big of a deal. Ever since, I've constantly been hearing...voices saying I couldn't be forgiven. Yours? Whose? I don't know... I don't know, but... I've heard them this whole time." Mahiru, calm down... "Was what I did such a bad thing? I just... had a normal relationship like everyone else...! That's all I did! Why can that not be forgiven? Hey, why? Why? Why?"

Kotoko's second trial voice drama does well to follow up on those similarities It's Not My Fault, Bring It On, and Backdraft highlighted between the prisoners and those who watch Milgram. The same mentality to jump into something that is quite frankly no one other than the parties involved business just to turn around and blame others when things get bad.

Later

"Ah- But if you don't forgive me, then Haruka-kun will die. So, I think it'd be best not to do that." ...! So, you've heard about that nonsense, too? "Mhm! Haruka-kun told me. So, I could rest easy according to him. That made me happy... It made me really feel our friendship!" You know about it and you're not trying to stop him? Haruka, that is? "Why would I? Haruka-kun says that's what he wants. So, there's nothing I can do, right?" But you're calling him your friend? "Isn't it exactly because he's, my friend? Isn't friendship about letting your friends do the stuff they want?" ... "Are you planning to tell me, "That's not what friendship is."? Then, what is it? It's about sticking together because it's beneficial for everyone involved, isn't it?" I don't think Haruka is benefitting from that at all. "No way... It's not like you'd know what's good for him." ... You sure are tough to beat. "I really don't get what it is you're trying to say, Warden-san. Haruka-kun is free to decide what he wants, and I'm not doing anything wrong. It's not like I asked him to do that!" I see. So, that's how it is, huh. You don't say anything; just because you're present, the wishes of those around you evolve to benefit you- Oh, so that's it. Like, a born queen. No, it's as if you're influencing your surroundings not with words but with pheromones... Just like a queen bee. "Pheromones...? I'm not sure what you're going on about but I'm not a fan of that lewd-sounding stuff." That's not the nuance i was talking about. "Either way there are prisoners much more deserving of not being forgiven than me. So, I think you should focus your energy on those guys instead. Like, Kotoko-san has been up to no good, for example. Ah, but what she did was approved by you, wasn't it?" ...You're making my blood boil. "Anyway... I think you would do good to forgive me. Then Haruka-kun will be safe, too. Ah, actually- Couldn't you just forgive everyone? Then Kotoko-san won't run amok, and you won't have to think about all the difficult stuff." ...That is...a very enticing proposal. "Right? Hah, hehehe." Abandoning all thinking... How nice it would be if I could just do that. "...If you ask me, I don't really get why you don't do it..." Because this is the role I'm playing! "But this role was giving to you, wasn't it?" ...! "You didn't end up doing this because you wanted to, right? It's not a dream you've had for a long time or anything, Warden-san? So, there's no need to let it tie you down. Couldn't you just quit?" What are you... "Warden-san- We call you warden, because that's what you are, right? And I wa sassigned the role of prisoner, but that doesn't mean I'm now nothing but a prisoner at heart, too. After all, I'm still me." ...! "Are you okay warden? Are you feelings sick again?" Haah...haeuahh... "That's because you keep thinking too much about difficult things." ...Gyh!... Haah... "Just stop. Being the warden, that is."

Es brings up that Mu is emotionally manipulative. That she hones onto any weakness to exploit in those she dislikes and makes herself look small so those around will feel more inclined to help her. Through her voice drama, like many of the other prisoners, Mu uses the same tactics that got her into Milgram to begin with.

From her first voice drama Mu is well aware that Es has issues when it comes to thinking about themselves outside of their job as prison guard. She recognizes it as a trigger which she willfully exploits in an attempt to get her point across better.

Then despite saying what Kotoko did is no concern of hers and since it was approved by the warder it'd be wrong of her to disagree with it earlier in the same voice drama her tone changes a lot near the end.

"Huh? But that has nothing to do with me." What? "The ones who are suffering are the ones who have done bad things right? You know, like, what goes around comes around?" ... "Besides Kotoko-san hurt and was mean to the people who you chose not to forgive, right?" ...Yeah. "Wouldn't it be weird for me to have any thoughts on that, then? After all, I didn't do anything wrong. You forgave me!"

Yet, suddenly when the idea that she might be viewed as in the wrong later comes up Kotoko is running amok and is a prisoner more deserving of not being forgiven than her. Because Mu as she has always done puts targets on other people to avoid being singled out herself. Then to add insult to injury she directly contradicts what she says about friendship and it being letting the people around you do what they want.

By continuing to badger Es into quiting being a guard and stop taking the role so seriously. Because Es taking their job seriously does not benefit Mu. It puts her at risk of being singled out and votes guilty later down the line. So, it's better if they just drop it.

If they don't/can't she has no issues, or qualms making the situation more difficult for them by poking at weak spots until Es-

If you want to betray from jealousy I’ve told you what’s gonna happen.

What's the point of highlighting all of this? Why include all the others when this is just meant to be about if Mikoto references the audience over the course of trial two.

Well, to be completely honest this isn't about them.

Even though at times this seems to be about the others. They're only being used as examples of how I analyzed the information provided and discerned through my own perspective when the audience was being referred to, how it was being referred to and why.

It is just easiest to explain that method over the course of all the prisoners and build up to Mikoto.

It just so happens that this may stand out more overtly with Mu than any of the other prisoners. Because of how consistent a character she is. Like she states in her voice drama no matter what labels external forces put on her, inside, in her heart she will always be Mu. She, like all the other prisoners, isn't changing and has no desire to change.

Their only desire is to escape punishment and gain social power and influence by any means necessary at times.

This is important with how they refer to the audience and the entities they choose to suck up to. Many of the prisoners have recognized being nice to Es just does not matter long term because they are just a proxy. They don't have much power or influence over how the prisoners are viewed.

Sure, it's good to get along with them for images sake during the interrogation but ultimately how well off they are with the guard doesn't heavily impact their verdict.

Yet, as long as they aren't outwardly and overtly malicious, they can get away with harassing Es if they want to. Mu's whole thing is making it appear as though she had no malicious intent or at least if she did it was a warranted response to the circumstances. She's just a victim, an underdog biting back. It's not her fault people were mean to her, but she doesn't just have to take it on the chin and wear it.

She has a right to protect herself after all she was-

"Having such a hard time." and "Trying so hard."

She was at a point where she couldn't take it anymore. Her heart was all dried up and her sorry spells weren't working.

Mikoto is the same way throughout his voice drama.

A mix of Mu and Mahiru's behavior. Basically, they're all passive aggressive about it. Dancing around the point instead of tackling it head on.

Not really elaborating on what they've heard but more so implying it through their emotional states and responses.

"If you just laugh and pretend, usually things will work out in the end right?"

X

"I'm pretty good at that! Making things work out to the best of my abilities." Is that so... "Eheheh... But...it's not coming to an end. All of this. With things I've never even heard before, the whole ti- The whole time... Haah... I have to see through all of these irritating experiences...!" You emerged, huh. "Hey. Looks like you haven't received a beating yet, Warden brat." ...! ... "Hah? What, are you scared?" Like you didn't get beaten by Kotoko...! "Heheh... That was just because she caught me off guard. We went at it again while you were asleep and it's not like i lost there."

Mikoto in his second voice drama similarly to Mahiru and Kazui does not willfully give Es or the audience information. Instead questioning Es on what they believe and what they saw.

"As for alters... Why do you think they're born?" In precise terms it's called, Dissociative Identity Disorder. Generally speaking it refers to when a person experiences severe pain or stress, and a new personality is created in order to isolate the original personality from the resulting trauma. "Yeah. I... probably come out to ease the stress I experience."

It's important to note that Mikoto (John) is not speaking in past tense here but present tense. So, he's not stating I emerged in the past in response to the stress Mikoto was experiencing. He's literally saying I'm coming out now to ease the stress he's currently experiencing.

Subtly calling to attention that Milgram, the verdict and the audience voices are causing Mikoto stress and he was brought out to handle and relieve Mikoto from that.

Even elaborating after that-

"The fact that I come out for longer just means that I'm constantly under extreme stress."

Again highlighting the negative impact Milgram has had on Mikoto's mental health and wellbeing. Yet also calling to attention that Mikoto (John) doesn't have a clue about what the source of the stress is. Just that Mikoto must be stressed for him to be here. Saying that just means and going off the fact that he's here at all to discern that.

Them asking this at least confirms again that they both recognize the audience as well as Es at least know Mikoto has Dissociative Identity Disorder. Something Mikoto states he's heard from the voices on his birthday as well.

The fact that he's questioning if there's really another "me" on his birthday means he more than likely heard that from the audience. He doesn't really get the chance to broach it in his voice drama or doesn't broach the topic.

Yet it is made abundantly clear before that occurs that Mikoto is aware due to the voices he's heard from the audience. So there's that as well.

All this makes the moment after this particularly interesting.

Stress... Namely, the environment of Milgram, right? "Right. You're decision to not forgive me is especially stress inducing. That's why I'm entrusting me with my heart." I see. "Not like I can blame myself. From my point of view, I'm being blamed for a crime I can't even remember." If that's the truth, then... You're the one who committed the murder? "Yeah, it was me. I killed them off." ... "So, I, Mikoto really didn't do it." Can i ask... Why you killed them? "They annoyed me." Who did you kill? "Just whoever was walking around nearby." ... How many did you kill? "Can't remember I was just born back then, you know. It's kind of fuzzy."

Just whoever was walking around-

In this empty ass back alley looking underpass in the dead of fucking night. Okay, Lil' Slugger. I believe you.

I too walk around in the dark of night to secluded spaces with no public foot traffic and a loud passing train that would mask not only my screams but those of anyone else around this is true and reasonable. It's something we all have to do we can't control where our homes are located or find other safer alternative night routes at times. Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do and people like Mikoto are there.

Sometimes you have to walk up to or past a suspicious ominously posted up stranger that definitely doesn't look in any way to be waiting to initiate a hit. That's not something any person would want to avoid in the middle of the night on their walk by all means. I would have seen you like this and went whelp fuck my house is that way... Aw, damn he's either gonna kill me or I'm gonna get home but I gotta walk that way. Better start praying and speed walking.

I ain't even a religious person but I need something to have me right now.

We already made eye contact. I saw him see me. That was my first mistake. Can't get out of it now. Whelp, I have the perfect song for this. I'm such a fucking disappointment. Oh, this route will be shorter there's not many people on it! We'll get home faster. Now I'm about to die.

I would be so pissed to die because this guy was just what fucking waiting to hurt somebody. What the fuck man pick up a contact sport and put the bat down!

Think I was fucking around when I said okay I belive you well ha ha; no. I wasn't. I don't believe this is the truth in this instance. However, I one hundred percent believe this is some city shit. The fucked up thing is what he just said isn't unreasonable like that shit happens there's senseless violence all the time. That doesn't make it better he really went on the mic and said,

"I killed someone because it really was just one of those days, I'm quirky like that. I didn't even know them. Didn't even know their name. They were just annoying had those hit me with a bat vibes you know."

Like dude fuck you that's not better. That's substantially worse actually. I'm sorry this has nothing to do with the question. It's just... Rewatching Mikoto's second voice drama is a trip. One second it's like if you did do that for the reason you stated then you're kind of just objectively the worst person here and continuing to vote you guilty would be better.

He just admitted he just does this shit to relieve his own stress and it doesn't matter who he hits. It's not personal in any way. Does having a hard time and demanding job excuse that? I don't think it does. These were all people to his own quick and flimsy admission had no connection to him. Never wronged him, hell they're strangers whose only crime was walking near him.

Yet the child who killed their abuser is barely treading water while he's here coasting-

That's fucked up! The fanbase did Amane Momose dirty and it really just seems like it's because she's a child. Because these fucking adults be acting hell of childish and they are not getting as much heat as this twelve year old has. Be better. The fuck type of defense is this. He really came in here and said,

"I felt like it so I did. What's the problem?"

Then a majority of people went alright go off he's such a victim- Of what nepotism, marginally good looking priviliege?! Being shippable and okay to sexualize leading to people liking and projecting on him more than a twelve-year-old?! Because all of those things are actually helping him a lot if you take a step back to think about. Like if you take in the image in full he's doing quite well now in comparison to the shit start he had.

He literally said I killed just because they annoyed me. I didn't even know them and people went I do not dee the problem with that. Go off king people do be annoying. If you don't want to die don't be annoying in public. Being annoying death penalty actively abusining your child for years and killing a cat come on Amane jumping to murder due to that was a bit of leap wasn't it. Like even if your religion said so sweety killing is bad.

Because the truth is if he was Amane's age and gave the excuse that was given here it wouldn't be working. It would be giving repeat offender energy he would need to learn a lesson. He would be hiding behind his disorder.

Even though Mikoto (John) may only be admiting to committing the murders to cover for Mikoto which I'll go into again later... I'm mostly highlighting this to go this should not have made him be more favorably viewed. Like people really just ignored he said that shit.

Yet, then other times in the voice drama it really sounds like listening to your friend lie about the disorder they have blatantly and without restraint to get out of something they simply did not want to do to begin with. To an individual that is woefully underinformed about how the disorder works. Which is me saying it's fucking hilarious. It is absolutely amazing. He should keep doing that actually.

It's not Mikoto or Mikoto (John's) fault that people are ignorant when it comes to dissociative identity disorder and stereotype people that have it. He should take advantage of what aids him. If that's the ignorance of others in this age it takes ten seconds to start researching. No one has to teach anybody in the real wold except teachers and they ain't paid well for it.

We gotta figure it out on our own. He is in jail he doesn't owe society or anyone in that jail shit especially the truth and he isn't giving it.

Mikoto (John) goes me fronting longer has allowed me to stabilize which probably isn't good and means Mikoto the prisoner is disappearing. That is not typically not how Dissociative Identity Disorder works. I don't know why anyone would want to present it as though it does work the way Mikoto (John) is purporting. He's basically saying that alters are born at random and are immediately violent.

This is a a very weird and stereotypical way of discussing and presenting people with DID. That has led to the demonization and stigmatizing of the disorder. It's not like it can't happen people can have violent alters but usually they're responding to a trigger not just being violent towards uninvolved parties or just lashing out at anyone while outside of stressful situations.

Plus, alters can go dormant but that doesn't just happen due to someone else fronting. They can also be integrated. Everyone is different though. So, maybe that's just how this works for Mikoto. Though, alters do disappear for a bit that happens as well. So, why is Mikoto (John) acting like Mikoto's gonna die?

It's difficult for me not to question how this was phrased, especially given what others have pulled over the course of trial two. A good deal of trial two has been prisoners going well if you vote me Guilty someone else will disappear/die- So, you should just like find me innocent. It's that easy find me innocent and everything will be fine.

Like these assholes have genuinely forgotten they are in here because someone has already died. They really be out here like I will certainly take a life but it won't be mine. Do as I say not as I do. Violence is bad and we wouldn't want to hurt anyone let's all just get along.

Where was this Barney ass logic when you were giving people head-on collisions with bats, knives to people's chest, committing malpractice. Like none of these people have said there's no reason to take a life because they've all fucking done it. Just that there's no reason to take away their lives. At least with the people who have brought that sort of thing up.

Isn't that sort of fucked up? That all of trial two a good deal of prisoners threatened the audience with the idea of someone dying as a result of the audiences' actions. Completely ignoring, downplaying, or evading the fact that someone has already died because of their actions.

Instead, it's about reducing harm in the present suddenly. Yet they weren't thinking about reducing harm when they did what they did. Maybe reducing harm to themselves. Then when their victims come up they get real quiet suddenly. Unless it's Shidou or Mahiru who immediately turn it around and make it about how the victims deaths are impacting them.

How it's making them feel bad.

Even ignoring all of the emotionally questionable things presented here and over the course of trial two. Pushing that to the side and just taking the voice drama by itself.

It's riddled with contradictions. For example, this statement

"Evidently, the time I've been fronting has been getting longer. So, this "me" has been able to stabilize. Isn't that the reason we can talk properly?"

Let's again ignore the fact that you were working and taking the fucking train before Milgram. Something that is not only expressly shown in your music video but corroborated by Mikoto's own testimony that directly conflicts with seeing you on a fucking train,

Q.12 How do you travel to work? Mikoto: Road cycling. It’s one of my hobbies, and it’s good exercise too. The fact I don’t have to worry about making the last train can be both a blessing and a curse.

Meanwhile in clown town where the alibis are shit and keeping a story straight is dead.

Q.17 Do you smoke? Mikoto: Only electric. I used to smoke real cigarettes in the past, but since I started my job I’ve stopped.

Like they even change the tote bags they carry so one has the color we fucking have had associated with Mikoto (John) and the other doesn't so the person taking the fucking train is more than like Mikoto (John).

Not even adding to the fact Mikoto confirms that he's the one who works at night in his fucking first written interrogation through this answer-

Q.06 What do you hate? Mikoto: working overnight / reptiles / violence

All things that appear or are alluded to in MeMe. Either from the tarot cards or expressly shown like with the images of him returning home.

Ah, man it'd be a fucking shame if on top of all that there was canonical merch that showed Mikoto vaping after the murder or holding an e-cigarette.

Certainly no one has that and the staff wouldn't provide us with something so damning because they like to keep things up to interpretation and it's not meant to be solvable. It's about how we all view it, view it in our hearts through our feelings.

Meanwhile the third anniversary art coming in with a steel chair.

(Something I brought up way before, along with the idea that the art from the third anniversary is in fact the prisoners after their crimes. Even getting this merch to check more closely. )

Oh, Holmes I'm absolutely stumped at what this could mean. Surely this is still just Mikoto (John) too. It could be no one else. Mikoto is an honest innocent man who couldn't hurt a fly.

All he did was dream. Except when that witty bastard plum forgot he still smoked cigarettes occasionally just a few times. Quitting is difficult, yes, even when moving over to the same thing in a different form. It doesn't mean he's a liar.

For another example, here

This is not Mikoto (John) in MeMe smoking in the tub but still Mikoto. He's an honest but confused man. Who wouldn't know or rightfully remember no longer smoking cigarettes.

Okay time to stop joking around-

It is more reasonable to recognize that they both appear throughout MeMe and Double and this is subtly displayed through their stated habits, clothing, and facial expressions. Then just ignoring the pile of evidence that shows Mikoto (John) clearly had a life outside of here too.

Along with that again to Mikoto's own admission trial one he was the one more active at night until recently. Stating with extraordinarily little prompting-

Q.20 Are you more of a morning person or a night person? Mikoto: I used to be basically nocturnal. Recently though I’ve been falling asleep pretty early.

Ignoring all of that again he's still just fucking lying.

Just because alters don't front doesn't mean they don't have a stable internal existence. What the fuck are you on about right now? Like at most I can generously say he meant it was becoming easier for him to front but this was bullshit.

This was not a good way of phrasing that. Again alters that don't front have personalities and could even have rich lives internally. So, Mikoto (John) is on some nonsense. Like he's just testing what he can fucking get away with because he knows Es is stupid and ill informed.

Every day I question how he is getting away with it when the honest answer is,

People frankly don't care to see it and that's fine.

There's even the fucking fact that Mikoto (John) directly fucking contradicts himself right after stating this.

"Evidently, the time I've been fronting has been getting longer. So, this "me" has been able to stabilize. Isn't that the reason we can talk properly?" ... "If I had stayed a monster maybe that would've been better. ...What?" You've turned out to be much more rational than I expected... I'm surprised. "I'm a university graduate after all."

Alright, Mikoto (John) which the fuck is it?

Have you only recently been fronting enough to stabilize leading to you being able to communicate properly or did you front for all of fucking college?

You were at least aware enough of it to consider yourself a college graduate. So, what's the truth? Huh which fucking is it?

"Can't remember I was just born back then, you know. It's kind of fuzzy."

I am once again asking how you fucking remember college Mikoto (John)?! Yet, were just born back then?

Okay, let's talk about the elephant in the room-

The threekoto or trikoto theory.

Because some people may want to say if you take into consideration the existence of a third unknown alter than all these inconsistencies can be explained, Gunsli. This is what all those inconsistencies are hinting towards, it's the perfect explanation you're just choosing not to see it.

Yes, I am choosing not to see it that way.

Yet that's not only because it doesn't bring me any narrative joy and subtracts from it. It's also because I view that concept as a cheap fix-it solution where a new factor has been shoved into the narrative in order to account for things within it that could be logistically explained by other means. There's also no actual evidence to this being the case.

One could rightfully say what about the inconsistencies you just pointed out though.

Those could simply be explained by a fact that Milgram has brought up since the beginning of the series-

The prisoners can lie.

If the prisoners who are under more restrictions than Mikoto (John) still have the freedom to lie why are people assuming Mikoto (John) isn't lying as well? Especially when being faced with an unknown, dangerous situation, in which he's been threatened with the death sentence? Like wouldn't the reasonable response to such an odd situation be to keep your information yours alone. Not willfully give it to an entity exerting power over you?

So, the inconsistencies found here very well could be there to hint at what exactly happened once all the information is examined together.

Though, let's be serious for a bit.

Let me walk down that bridge with anyone who wants to go there? What's the actual probability that all the information that they gave us-

Including naming the songs,

MeMe and Double.

Along with willfully adding this fucking very overt line,

"Doesn’t matter if you didn’t wish for it, can’t get rid of me now. Just the two of us, relieved, aren’t you? I’ll protect you (us)."

Are all actually statements meant to mislead the audience and both Mikoto and Mikoto (John) are being honest about not remembering the murder and this third more recently born alter is the actual murderer. Because given that statement on the crimes and Mikoto (John)'s admission that yes, he is a college graduate, the lyrics in Double pointing out we made him out to be a scoundrel-

In my opinion that would be the most reasonable conclusion to draw if I were to believe this is true with the information we've been given so far.

Even if that were the case and all of these other things were red herrings.

These would all be objectively the worst red herrings in existence. Because that isn't a red herring it's a fucking school of them. Grab a fishing rod and get to it. This is past the point of being considered a red herring and instead would be more aptly described as a series of overt lies.

You know a good red herring is when people can actually figure out it is that and there's evidence in canon alluding to that being the case and what is commonly accepted as truth being disingenuous. I'm not the biggest Steven Universe fan nor do I hate it passionately. I'm more neutral to it.

So, let's use it as an example.

-Spoilers for Steven Universe-

In Steven Universe it turns out Pink Diamond and Rose Quartz are the same fucking person. There is art that alludes to this before this reveal. There were speculations and theories of this being the case. What Steven Universe did not do repeatedly at any point was go she's not a diamond we swear this is a normal Rose Quartz.

They didn't draw attention to the elephant in the room over and over. Most of the characters in the series believed fully that she was a quartz and had been lied to for years. It's never called attention to because it is a wildly accepted truth. So, nobody questioned it.

Yet, there were still hints this was the case enough for people to speculate such far before it was revealed to be the case. My point is red herrings are seen not heard, not repeated over and over. A red herring by definition is one misleading clue or accepted truth meant to trick the viewer into believing something that is untrue or move them away from the truth.

It's not a consistent pattern.

-End Spoilers for Steven Universe-

Then to add more insult to fucking injury why the fuck would Deco*27 say this-

This isn't a red herring this isn't even within the canon.

This is a statement he made independent of the canon. Outside of that he didn't even have to give a specific number but did anyway. He could have just said what will happen to the Mikoto's now. If they wanted this shit to remain ambiguous. Yet, he still used two unless this translation from the Milgram app is simply wrong and it added that.

It'd be weird but machine translations have been weirder.

Yet, considering everything I've seen it truly makes more sense for me to believe Mikoto and Mikoto (John) are both being dishonest for self-preservation reasons than to believe that the entire series has been lying from jump.

I just find it more likely that these two who found themselves in such a strange situation, who are vehemently trying to convince the audience and the other prisoners around them that they are honest trustworthy men are just fucking lying about a lot of provably false shit. Then as it tends to happen when someone is telling lies off the seat of their fucking pants there are many easily spotted contradictions and direct confirmation of actual truths.

Because the truth tends to be consistent lies aren't unless a person is very skilled at it. (Glances at Kazui.) Throwing all that to the side.

If the idea of there being three alters brings someone joy, then that's all well and good. I'm not trying to stomp that out or rain on anyways parade. I just don't personally want the information I discuss to be associated with that or have any interest in discussing that interpretation.

There are a lot of people who'd have a great time doing that. I am not one of them.

Because I feel using that idea to excuse the fact that the alibi, excuses, other statements Mikoto has given, and the reality of the situation through the songs extracted directly contradict each other in a way that highlights he may not be being honest is not only incredibly convenient for him but somewhat disingenuous.

This includes his voice dramas and the birthday interaction before Double premiered. Unsurprisingly.

I'm not looking for an easy fix for those inconsistencies that keep Mikoto looking infallible and like he couldn't hurt a fly. I'm not looking for something that frames Mikoto as being in the right, a good person, and a victim of circumstance while highlighting an alter as being completely bad and in the wrong always. Because that sort of story is lacking in nuances in my opinion and wouldn't be fun to me.

If that were the case it would make it feel as though the story itself was highlighting Mikoto's character having dissociative identity disorder as the reason for him being a murderer or the only thing that led to these issues occurring. Something that just doesn't feel right to me personally.

It's never like what has Mikoto done/chosen to do or how could he have responded differently or managed stress better. Nope it's always an alters fault, it's always the disorders' fault. There's no respect for Mikoto's own agency because he's a guy with a disorder, he didn't mean it, he couldn't help it, that's just how it is.

The impressive thing is how often Milgram as a series pushes back against this interpretation and simplification of dissociative disorders in general.

Then the fandom pretty much plays into this trying to tell others there's a definitive way to know if someone has it, how many alters they have, and at what time an alter is out just by vibes and speaking patterns alone.

As if dissociative identity disorder doesn't involve a shit ton of masking and trying to appear fine to avoid being singled out by others.

Milgram highlights this issue with the perception of dissociative disorder through Amane's voice drama.

Where Es literally implies that since Amane's case doesn't present the same exact way as Mikoto's and she cannot do the same things as him that solidifies to them that Amane herself cannot have a dissociative disorder. So, in Es' eyes what Amane is doing is just playing pretend by referring to herself as we and god. So, really all she is or appears to be to Es at the end of the day is a kid throwing a tanturm and playing make believe.

Well... It's in vain. So, you might as well listen to me while we're here. "I won't forgive you. I won't forgive you." Prisoners can't attack the warden. This is one of Milgram's core rules, although a certain guy with multiple personalities managed to slip past it. "I won't forgive you... I won't forgive you..." Which means Milgram doesn't dictate who the prisoners are by their body but by their mind. If the mind isn't accounted for then the rule doesn't apply. It bothers me that there's a loophole, but... "I'll kill you...! I'll kill you!" Thanks to this defective rule we can confirm this; The 'you' holding the scissors right now isn't a god or a concept. It's Amane Momose herself. "...I'll..." So, what you're doing right now really is just a game of pretending. This is stupid.

Then Amane later in her voice drama calls out Es for referring to themselves as we. Saying that Es must just be playing pretend to avoid taking accountability for their actions as well.

Es makes the very severe and common mistake of assuming all dissociative disorders present the same way and immediately has their own logic used again them. Leading them to have another crisis of identity. They're shown to have a serious lack of understanding of themselves and their opinion.

Something that from the beginning of Milgram has been shown to cause them discomfort in multiple voice dramas. Mu's first and second one, Kotoko's first and second one, and Amane's second one. This same logic could very well lead to the audience making a lot of the same mistakes as Es is presented making.

Well, that was longer than I anticipated. But, there's a lot of things about Mikoto that imply he not only heard the audience voices but took the reaction he received into account when deciding on how he proceeded.

Other than that, I've got a birthday to have. Sorry for the long answer and going much more in depth than I needed to. I also hope none of this was rude.

Though i can't really control how I'm interpreted.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Ideas for a scenario where the Reader meets the Creepypastas? Perhaps Laughing Jack, Slenderman, and Ben Drowned if that's okay with You?

Meeting Laughing Jack, Slenderman, and Ben! (platonic)

or as i like to say; reader being the main character and being spared by the silly monsters!! very heavy on the hcs in bens segment with the "hes stuck in electronic devices" thing i got going on with him eheheh platonic for the simple fact that this is a meeting post!

SLENDERMAN:

would it really be a meeting with slenderman if i didnt bring up his pages? i think i made a joke post somewhere where your vibe alone intrigued the entity enough not to krill you on the spot... and given how i sometimes write slenderman to be a curious creature, i think it would be fitting that we revisit that idea! though, i dont think you would properly meet on your first encounter; no i dont think you guys formally introduce yourselves to one another until a few days/weeks after the event, when you notice that hes taken to following you around and sticking to the side.. honestly in a weird way its endearing, youve gotten the attention of this old forest monster... creepy but cute! like a stray puppy but if the puppy was like ten feet tall and faceless! thanks to you looking into him on the trusty internet you already know who he is; but you decide to go talk to him anyways. probably go into his woods again after he initially lets you escape... kind of slowly cocks his head to the side when looking down at you and listening to you tell him your name... you kind of jump when you hear /his/ voice in your head telling you that he already knows your name.. friendship.. if you can even call it that, starts off as just him observing you and learning your routine for the first few weeks... youre going to have to make the first big moves in order to get that man to do more than watch

LAUGHING JACK:

whenever i think of scenarios for the reader meeting jack, it always circles back to one main idea. i personally think that jack is in some way tied to his box. you know, the box to his jack. that box.. i think its like a cursed object, like you get it and jack is going to start messing with you not long after. usually i imagine the reader purchasing him at a garage sale, and then the antics ensue... imagine waking up one night and seeing this giant clown leaning down to your face, his cone nose lightly poking the tip of your own nose... you shouldnt be blamed for being even just a little spooked! and.. well next thing you know you have this clown roommate. i think not freaking out is key in making sure you dont die? i mean lj thinks krilling is mostly a game thanks to isaac and usually the victim is well... scared, naturally.. perhaps being outwardly calm dismisses any idea that theres a game going on. shrugs, thats the only decent idea i have... now go domesticate that clown! make him your best friend! or your malewife if thats what you want! just know hes going to be attached to you by the hip; a friend who wont leave him! how fun!

BEN DROWNED:

sure i could say that you go to a garage sale and buy the DS ben is on but thats boring and jack already has the garage sale idea... so im going to be a little different here. i have a headcannon that about 80% of the time ben is tied to a device, but he does have the ability to hop around if theyre linked up in some way... i think a hard drive could work, how he got into one we dont know... but lets say you find a random one, and against your better judgement you decide to plug it into your computer... and oop...! you have a virus.. but no matter how hard you try to look for it you cant find anything... no one can find anything, but your computer is acting so.. weird... its not until it starts leaving notes that you think that someone is doing something... you think its some dark web stuff going on.. what could they want? you guys talk back and forth. at first its just you trying to figure out what the person wants, but over time it turns into just simple chatter... though theres still a tenseness. youre still convinced its someone remotely messing with your computer until that 20% of the time where ben isnt confined happens... needless to say youre absolutely shocked to find a random teenager in your room at your computer, getting water absolutely everywhere mind you! definitely going to need a minute to process whats going on; but honestly i think ben is less of a kriller and more of a troller, at least in my mind... does lead to you trying to find out what happened to him, and perhaps try to find a way for his soul to move on.. funky sibling dynamic, i think

[ladykiller-yt]

FILING OF CANINES

It's a very tough time of year for Crowley and no, it's not the shedding season. It's a bit more pointed and cutting. Lately, when he gets intimate with Aziraphale he always ends up scratching, cutting or piercing him and this is becoming a problem even if the angel has never made him feel bad about it.

C:"Aziraphale, you have to help me."

A:"Sure, with what?"

C:"I think you know, you're covered in scratches because of me and this situation is getting on my nerves."

A:"But I already told you not to worry. I really like your canines. They're sexy."

C:"Don't...don't confuse me angel, that's not the point!"

A:"And what would be the point?"

C:"I want you to file them down."

A:"Oh my. And how am I supposed to do that? I have nothing for this kind of work."

Crowley snapped his fingers and a black file appeared, it was clearly used.

C:"Here angel, use this."

A:"Okay let's do this. But first drink this, I don't want you to feel any pain."

C:"What is it?"

A:"Something you really like to drink."

C:"Whisky?"

A:"No, does the phrase 'I am not responsible for my actions' remind you of anything?"

C:"Is it Laudanum?"

A:"Yes, the best. I stocked up on it a long time ago. Although, as you well know, I am against drug use but for this time I will turn a blind eye."

C:"You always turn a blind eye to me."

A:"Yes well, don't get too used to it, young man."

They laughed as they walked towards the living room, Crowley sitting on the sofa with his head turned back and Aziraphale behind him.

A:"Are you comfortable?"

C:"Very and are you ready?"

A: "I am. Drink."

Crowley downed the liquid in one gulp, making a disgusted face immediately after.

C: "Wow...huug I remembered it being better, but...eheheh it's already taking effect."

A: "Okay now stay still and be good. I don't want to make a mistake."

Aziraphale began to file Crowley's canines while the latter tried to hold back his laughter. Every now and then, to play, Crowley would stick out his tongue and wrap it around Aziraphale's fingers and the angel would promptly scold him.

A: "If you stick out your tongue again I swear I'll cut it off."

C: "But you like my tongue especially when I wrap it around your..."

A: "Yes yes we all know where you like to wrap your forked tongue. Now stay still, you're bleeding a little."

Aziraphale dabbed the demon's canines lightly with cotton. They were definitely shorter, less sharp and pointed but still very sexy.

A: "Okay now you're perfect. How do they look to you?"

C: "They're perfect angel, like you."

A: "You're full of laudanum Crowley."

C: "And you're very sexy Aziraphale."

A: "You should rest a bit. The effect of the Laudanum is about to wear off and you might get a little fever."

C: "Will you be here when I wake up?"

A: "Of course Crowley."

Aziraphale got up to get the necessary things for the post-filing. A blanket, a glass of Whisky, ice and something to bring down the fever. When he returned, Crowley was already resting on his side and Aziraphale put the blanket over him, sat next to him making him rest his head on his legs. She gently stroked his red hair as she began to read a few chapters of her book aloud so that the room was filled with the written words.

C:"Thank you angel."

[passive-nightmaresans]

Master list because I feel it's ABOUT TIME-

Some stuff!! >:3

My name is Passive (obviously not my real name lol-) you can call me Passive / Night / any variation of Nightmare or Passive really :3

My new platonic spouse is @caretaleandotherstuff (You can't run Care. You said you would cosplay with me)

My (super cool) pronouns are She/they/it/we !!

My main focus is obviously Utmv! And that's mostly what I'll be posting!! >:3 my second account for headcanons is @nighty-learnedhowtotalk !! And da Discord server is https://discord.gg/uEpmC7n2

Heres the undercut!

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DNI!!:

Pr0shipp3rs, Z0ophil3s, p3d0s, you know the usual other gross stuff :(

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Stuff I won't do >_<

Before hand I want you to know I am a minor so that's some of the reasons I can't do these

Any asks for money, Nsfw things, commissions (though I doubt you'd like any lol-), any really personal asks, and any hate comments or asks will be publicly made fun of or deleted =)

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AUs I have!!

Hehehehhehe I've never talked about my AUs BUT YOU CAN GLADY ASK ABOUT THEM tehehheeh

I have a multiverse royal based AU that's centered around the Dreamtale brothers because they're obviously my favs <333 (it's still in the works and has no name-🥲)

And I have an another royal based AU- (I have too many ides you don't even know dude-)

Ehehehe this one is just Passive Nightmare being extremely feral >:)

New au THAT FINALLY GOT A NAME- It's called Radio wave verse! Or RW!Verse >:)

Its set after a Radioactive explosion of some sort post-apocalyptic thing y'know? Anyways I actually have stuff on this....

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Concept art 1 & art 2

Discord link!!

https://discord.gg/uEpmC7n2 !!!

Last updated Aug 3rd, 2024

[gingernut1314]

I finished watching Chainsaw Man and thought I would share what I thought of it!! Also I might do this more often for the shows that I finish cause idk I think it could be fun!

Anyway

My thoughts on Chainsaw Man:

One.....what the fuck??

Two....it's actually really fucking funny and most of the characters are actually very engaging and interesting!

Three...WHAT THE FUCK??

Why is it such a common theme to do the underage thing?? It's so gross and just--omg NO

Like Himeno is a badass amazing character who I would have loved to see get more development and see her past more (also I have no clue what goes in the manga so....you can let me know but no major spoilers plz) but it got utterly SQUASHED by her continuously being like "haha omg lol you're a minor, I couldn't possibly kiss you." and then proceeds to DO IT AHH NOO THANK YOU WHERE IS THE SPRAY BOTTLE????

She's a cool character but like....Oof

Like same thing with Mei Mei from Jujutsu Kaisen like she was such a fun/neat character and then--then omg like WHY???

anywayyyyyyy

I really enjoyed Power's character too!! She's so fun and I love me a good demon turned "good" so like yes she's perfect. And Meow Meow SOB Meow Meow 🥹

And I just LOVE that they all live together like its such a fun thing to add and I eat that shit UP

Denji's character is......Oof....I mean.....the guys got simple dreams but....Oof

I enjoyed watching him be like "oh shit wait I don't think I feel anything" like that's going to be a WILD thing to get into more and also the fact that other guy with the sword who is basically kinda sorta in the same boat as Denji was like "I DO have feelings so like you're bullshit" Ehehehe I'm sensing angst in the hopefully near future and I need itttt

Also FUCK Ms. Makima I don't give a shit she's crazy as fuck and def gonna just going to piss me off in the future I can sense it. Like poor Kishibe just wants to drink kill some demons and get laid and she keeps sending him people to train and get attached to only for them to DIE like AHHHH girl I dislike you much at the moment

Also Kishibe is just--damn the man you are let's get a drink together plzzzzzzzzz

Talking about people I thoroughly enjoy

Aki

AKI

Like LOOK AT HIM

AHHHHHHHHHHH Yall I love him and honestly he might be one of my new husbands ✋😩

What can I say, I love a man who smokes and is dead on the inside they are too scrumptious to pass up

If I end up writing fic for this show it's gonna be about him EXCLUSIVELY like omg I love himmm and I don't want him to DIE PLEASE NO LIKE LET ME MAKE A DEAL WITH ONE THIS DEVILS TO SAVE HIM PLZZZZZZZZZZZ

talking about the devils in this show--they are so cool! And I like that like the general public knows about them and that the Public Safety Devil Hunters work with cops and stuff like its so interesting!!! I feel like you don't really get to see a lot of that in shows where everyone knows about the monsters so very cool!

....that might be all I have to say for now about this show. Very interesting, very funny, very....interesting.

Do we know if it's getting a season 2? I would like a season 2 if possible plz I need to see my man Aki some more.

Thank you for coming to my very informal TED talk for those that made it this for

Gingernut's After-Show Debrief

[skyartworkzzz]

Because you said you love rambeling about lore and you are looking for excuses to talk about it redeem this cupon for one free lore ramble, any topic

OH YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT U JUST DONE

SIT BACK AND RELAX CUZ THE GOATS UNIVERSE HAS BEEN IN MY MIND THE WHOLE WEEK + SOME HEKET RAMBLING Cuz I got her a partner idea hehehe <3

LONG RAMBLING UNDER THE CUT!!! (btw bless chu I appreciate u <3 )

ABOUT CULT OF THE GOAT AU:

About the Purple Crown: Ive been seeing a lot of interpretations of Goat's Crown going around and honestly Id like to put in my cents: I dont think the Crown being purple changes who the owner was, because the eye shape is still the same as Lamb's Which brings me to think that, just like how in COTL everything seems to be colored after warmer/reddish colors, everything in Goat's universe must be following cooler/purpleish palettes What does that mean to me? That ALL the other Crowns are of different colors as well, maybe a colder one compared to their original ones

Im still thinking about what each of them would be here but so far I like to think that Yellow -> Ocean green?? Green -> Blue Blue -> dark pink? Purple -> Cyan/White

I think the Crown shapes would still be the same + what each Bishop's domain would be as well

About Aym and Baal: They were never offered to Narinder. Shamura didnt have that compassion. They were so mad at their brother that they couldnt bring themselves to consider his feelings for being banished. Neither did any of the other siblings, for they wouldve been too busy fighting off Old Gods and hunting for empowerment

So where are Aym and Baal? Theyre alive! With Forneus! And both of them are lil jerks as much as their mother Taught to steal, lie and fight, all in order to survive no matter what. The twins have already expressed wanting to go out and explore the world, but Forneus refuses to let her kids go, much for her own selfish reasons of them being the only things that make her happy in this fcked up world AND because, of course, she loves them. She knows how cruel the world has turned into, she does not want to lose them Aym and Baal never met Narinder, and Narinder never met them Maybe eventually, while Goat is out in a crusade, they shall cross paths........as enemies

About the Purgatory: This is still smtng I am speculating about, but what I have so far: instead of it being MS to tell the Goat to free the Bishops from their deserved-suffering, itd be them asking the deity if such thing was possible, because Narinder wouldve been feeling bad about it He believes that his siblings could change over time, especially now that the Crowns were relinquished by the Goats power, and so they are allowed to have that chance This would unlock many scenarios of the Bishops actively trying to take over the cult, run away or kill the Goat + their followers. It is smtng Ill let cook for a while more

IF ANYTHING Id just- leave them dead lol they wouldnt be redeemable in this world (BUT BECAUSE I LOVE MY SKRUNKLIES EQUALLY ILL TRY TO MAKE IT WORK-)

ABOUT HEKET: Ehehehe I accidentally started shipping her with my follower OC Astrid so we'll see how it goes

Astrid is someone who keeps to herself for the sake of others; she is not used to opening up and oftentimes believes her pain is not worth of complains compared to others she is caring for However, she is very much talkative, maybe as a way to make her forget her problems Whilst Heket she- well. She cant. Talk much it hurts like hell UASHDNJASMDK

SO WE HAVE A TALKATIVE BUBBLY GF WITh her mostly quiet butch wife that shes constantly having to change the bandages of <3

I have a dialogue set up for them which I shall get to drawing a comic for as soon as I am done with thIS CURRENT COMIC-

ANYWAYS thats the ramblings for now, HOPE YALL LIKE THE IDEAS bless u again for givng me a free pass made me rlly happy MWEHE,,!! 💜💜💜

[islandtarochips]

Lucky Guess

*Arjun, Sparrow and Agnes was trying to help the three hostages that got time bomb on them* Hostage 1: PLEASE! I DON’T WANNA DIE! Sparrow: *trying to take it off* THEY LOCKED IT! JUST LIKE BACK IN LONDON! Hostage 2: *was panicking* Arjun: *looking at the time seeing only 1 minute left* Damn it… Hostage 3: I WANT TO SEE MY CHILDREN!!! Agnes: *looking at the time and the hostages* …… *sighed annoyingly* ALRIGHT! EVERYONE SHUT UP!!! *everyone looked at Agnes when she yelled* Sparrow: Blast? Agnes: SHOOSH! Arjun: Blast what are you- Agnes: AH AH AH! SHOOOOOOOSH! *closing her eyes as she concentrate* Sparrow: ...... *looked at the time down to 30 seconds* Captain… Arjun: *look* We need to go NOW. Hostage 2: W-WHAT?!? Hostage 1: NO! PLEASE! Agnes: *is still trying to concentrate before looking at the wires and then at the time that is only down to 20 seconds* Got it! Agnes: *got her knife* Hold still! *Arjun and Sparrow saw Agnes is working on cutting the wire* Arjun: Blast! We don’t have time to dis- *saw Agnes already cut the wire and the timer stop* Arjun: -arm...it... Agnes: One! *went to the other hostage as she cut the wire* Agnes: Two! Sparrow: Wow. She’s….disarming the bomb! *Agnes ran to the last hostage and eyes widened seeing the wires are the same*  Agnes: Kefe… Hostage 3: W-What is it? Agnes: Um…uh… Arjun: 10 SECONDS, Blast! Let’s MOVE! Agnes: Hold on! *looking at the wires as she mumbled to herself* Sparrow: *lead the two hostages out before looking back at Agnes* Blast! 5 seconds! We got to move NOW! Hostage 3: No no no NO! PLEASE! Agnes: *looking at the wire and grabbed one before cutting it* *Arjun quickly hugged Sparrow to cover her before not hearing the explosions* *the two slowly looked at Agnes who had cut the wire* Agnes: *was panting and looked at the two before smiling* Got it! Arjun: ���‍💨 Sparrow: Fucking hell, Blast… Agnes: *giggles* And that was a lucky guess! Arjun/Sparrow: THAT WAS YOUR LUCKY GUESS?!? Agnes: !!! Uuuh… *smiled nervously* Ehehehe… Hostage 3: ...... *fainted* 😵‍💫

Arthur's Note: Like I said before in Agnes's bio. She has good memories of how to disarming the bomb. But taking THREE out at the same time. It'll take LOTS of focus for her to cut the RIGHT wire. So yeah.

Characters (Left -> Right)

Captain Arjun - @welldonekhushi

Sergeant Major Sparrow - @revnah1406

Sergeant Blast - Me

[zweetpea]

Eternity or Stasis part 2 of 2

…

“WOAH WOAH WOAH!! Language! Hehe, Steve… anyway. Previously on… whatever the hell this is!”

“Who are they talking to?” Aether asks

“I, Gen, got shot and ended up here! Then the Raiden Shogun’s army kidnapped me and brought me here!” You wrap your arm around Ei’s shoulders.

“Please stay away from me.”

“Wow! Okay, I see how it is.” You unwrap your arm from around her shoulder. “I thought you were Bae, turns out you’re just Fam. Jk I respect your boundaries.”

Lumine comes up to you. “Gen!” She smacks you. “Pull it together!” She shakes you by your collar.

“Listen listen listen Linda! I appreciate your help mkay, I really do, but you need to take a step back.”

“What is wrong with you?” Aether asks.

“I’m a little meshed up.” You smile.

“We can tell.” Lumine rolls her eyes.

“So uh, what did you guys say your names were? Sorry I’m kinda bad with names.” You ask.

“My name is Sky and this is my sister Light.” Aether smiles and waves.

“…hi.” She rolls her eyes.

“So… good job warding off Dvalin and Osial but I have the Raiden Shogun covered. The talk no jutsu worked. I was just like, you need to fix your attitude and outlook on life and apparently that worked.”

“Well of course. You are the one Celestia fears. There is no doubt in my mind that you are wise.”

“Oh stop Ei! You’re making me blush.” You giggle. “Anyway please let us out. Then take over your puppet and we’ll get to work on fixing your nation.”

“Alright.” Ei opens the rift and the three of you exit. “Everyone! This is the Adored one! The one Celestia fears! Centuries ago the Archons held a meeting in Celestia and we were informed of a prophecy of someone who would take down Celestia and liberate Teyvat! This is that person.” Ei shouted. “Go on. Tell them about how we’re going to fix Inazuma.”

“Me?! Oh uh. Hi everyone! My name is Gen, with a G. I’m gender fluid. So we’re going to be giving back all of the Visions and pardoning everyone on Watatsumi Island.”

After about an hour of diplomatic work you were finally able to walk around the city with the twins and Paimon.

“It’s nice to meet you! Paimon is Paimon. These are the Stardust travelers.”

“It’s nice to meet you Paimon! You are just adorable!”

“Aww. Thank you. Ehehehe!”

“So where do we want to go?” You asked.

“How about we meet up with Ayaka and Thoma?” Aether suggests.

“Sure.” You smile.

You four make your way down to the Yae Publishing House. There stood Thoma, Ayaka, and Ayato actually.

“Thoma! Ayaka! And… who is this?” Paimon cheers.

“Hello travelers! This is my older brother Ayato.”

‘Obilf’ you think.

“And who is this?” He smiled towards you.

“You can call me whatever you like handsome.” You smirk.

“Well how about Gen then.”

“Okay.” You smile sadly. ‘I’m this close to boning Jeht’s dad. I was promise debauchery!’ Grr. Your stomach grumbles. “Heh, sorry I haven’t eaten all day.”

“You poor thing. Come with me, I’ll get you some food.” Ayaka takes your hand. ‘Forget Ayato. Ayaka being wife material right now.”

“Thank you! The beauty of you soul compliments the beauty of your face.” She blushes at your compliment.

Your group makes their way back into the city and you head to the komore tea house.

“Cute! Puppy!” You cheer.

“This is Taromaru.” Thoma introduces.

“Hi sweetie.” He nuzzles into your palm. “This is the greatest day of my life. I’m so happy I might cry!”

Lumine rolls her eyes as Aether chuckles. We all go to sit in one of the rooms and sat at the table. Thoma, Ayaka and Ayato on one side. You and the twins on the other. You sat across from Thoma; Aether sat next to you on your right across from Ayaka; and Lumine sat on the end across from Ayato. Paimon floated beside Lumine. 

The seven of you chatted and ate. “Sky you have to try this!” You held out some food in between your chopsticks.

“Oh sure.” He takes a bite. “That’s really good!”

“I know right!”

“Here you should try some of mine.” He gives you some of his.

“This is so tasty!”

“I’m glad you enjoy our cuisine!” Ayaka cheered.

“I enjoy your face more~ sorry I’m letting the intrusive thoughts win.”

After the meal you and the twins and Paimon left for the wilderness.

“Well I should probably let you guys be for the night.”

“Yeah, good night.” Lumine grimaced.

As you were walking through the mountain side you were ambushed by fatui agents.

 You held out your hand and…

…nothing happened.

“WHAT?!” Your delusion glowed purple. “You motherfu-” a blast of Hydro knocks you unconsciously.

When you wake up you’re bound and gagged. ‘Kinky’ you think, as you stare up at a short man in black and red with violet hair and violet eyes.

“Finally! We meet face to face the one Celestia fears. I only have one thing to say to you.” He grabs you under your chin. “I intend to marry you.”