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weather-cluddy · 8 months

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The idea that Mikoto must've murdered a lot of people because he seems so calm and practiced frankly confuses me. His actual level of skill in not getting caught was around the level of Muu's, who was literally not even trying. Possibly worse, to be honest.

For starters, train station with the trains still running is a pretty terrible place to commit a crime. People have to commute home, so it's one of the few places that will draw people even late-ish at night. Not only that, but they have surveilance cameras, some of which broadcast online 24/7, which is kind of a strong demerit when you're looking for a place to kill somebody.

He also didn't do anything to hide his identity, like wearing a mask or using gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. His hair is pretty distinctive and the beanie doesn't hide it at all. (Contrast with Kotoko hiding her face, wearing men's shoes and confronting her victim in a side alley. So these things were most likely on the writer's mind.)

Speaking of the beanie, his evidence disposal is terrible. He dumped the corpse right next to a sign saying "This is private property! Do NOT dump your trash here! We will report you!", the only thing hiding it being a flimsy plastic bag that will very likely start leaking during the several days it'll take for it be collected. It's also very likely to be opened up so the garbage collectors can know what kind of trash this unlabelled, opaque bag is supposed to have. After all, proper trash sorting and recycling is a pretty big deal in Japan.

He then threw a beanie stained with blood right next to the bag which, besides being obviously suspicious as soon as somebody notices the corpses, provides DNA samples to the police. The blood proves it's related to the blonde guy, and any hairs inside links Mikoto to it. Even without any testing, just looking at them you can narrow the search to "people living in roughly this area who have half-brown and half-bleached hair". Mikoto walked home, after all. The murder scene can't be that far.

(Speaking of which, let me repeat that Mikoto walked home. Covered in blood. Which throwing away the beanie did nothing to fix, because his other clothes and his face were also bloodstained. So not only did he not have any contingencies for dealing with blood splatter, his belated attempts at fixing it only made things worse. He didn't even wipe his face before throwing the hat away!)

And if you try to include the bathtub scenes and the repetition of the train scene as evidence of multiple murders, then you have to add:

1.He killed almost a dozen people without getting caught first. A bath takes around a hundred liters of water, an average adult has around 5 liters in them, so if we assume half of the liquid in the tub is actually water then we need 50 liters. That's ten people, but it also requires we assume that he had some sort of pump that would drain every last drop of blood from their bodies. We must also at least somewhat discount the blond guy we actually see Mikoto kill, because clearly that murder wasn't very conducive to getting all five liters into a bucket.

More importantly, every murder had to be done in a very short time frame in order to avoid the issue of blood clotting, or else he had some sort of holding facility with refrigeration and anticoagulants that would preserve the blood. All for the purpose of, uhh, living out his Elizabeth Bathory kin fantasies?

2. He did all this while attacking people in the same place, with the same weapon, with the same clothes, at the same time of the day, under weather so incredibly identical that even the cloud shapes are the same. Talk about establishing a pattern.

You could point at his dettached attitude and claim it shows he's done it before, but honestly? He's far from the only prisoner to have the "wrong" reaction to their murder. For example, Haruka laughing as he murders animals. Or Amane indifferently standing over her mother's corpse. Or Mahiru joking about her boyfriend's suicide and saying Es might be next. Should we assume they're also expert murderers?

Really, the whole sequence makes much more sense if you assume each step got maybe three seconds of thinking each, instead of hours of careful planning. I can definitely see something like:

Something happens that convinces Mikoto that this guy must die RIGHT NOW. He grabs the first weapon-ish thing he sees and rushes to where he knows/assumes the guys would be at this hour.

Alright, he's dead! ...Wait, shit, the corpse!

Um, uuh, the stuff you don't want goes in the trash, right?

After wandering for God knows how long in search of one of Japan's infamously scarce trash cans, he finally finds somewhere the body will fit. By this point he's either too panicked to consciously notice the sign, or he's deep into the sunk cost fallacy and doesn't let it dissuade him.

Agh, he's got blood on his clothes. Well, taking off his pants isn't gonna help him looks less suspicious, but he can throw away the hat, right? Less blood = better!

Alright, job done, time to go home!

#I focused on the in-universe side of things but also #would YOU show a character dumping a corpse right next to a “Don't dump your shit here!!” sign if they were supposed to be doing it right #I considered adding that he decided to ambush somebody by standing right in the open with a weapon in his hand #But to be fair that scene doesn't work 100% literally unless Mikoto can teleport so I'll let it slide.#milgram #mikoto kayano

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madamlaydebug · 9 days

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A War For Your Soul...

A secret shared in the light is but a mystery still to the profane.Mental Prison

Most are drawn to the dark depths in the sea of the insane.

A war for their soul, many of them lost before they began to speak.

Soldiers of the matrix carrying bricks in the heat.

Building the very prison systems that imprisons their own kin.

They would rather love a lie, than seek the truth before they die.

Conspiracies fill their hollow brains, this is how they get high.

On their computers they build their own manufactured illusions.

Images of the profits of doom who lead them into hellish prisons.

They honor plastic actors they do not know on a plasma screen.

Rather than honoring their ancestors many holy deeds.

For without our ancestors, we would not be around.

In fact, you and I wouldn't be alive to make a sound.

A magnificent truth told today is but a lie to the walking dead.

They have lost touch with who they are, nothing else needs to be said...

#MentalPrison

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duckymcdoorknob · 2 years

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Oopsies another super self indulgent drabble. This time it’s feat. one of my biggest fucking kins rn.

This is for my ED homies. You’re seen, you’re understood, you’re loved.

CW BELOW THE CUT: Eating Dis0rder thoughts and behaviors.

You couldn’t lie to yourself, it was getting bad once again. You had been in a safe spot with your eating habits, but all good things come to an eventual end. As the most dreaded part of your day arrived, you mentally prepared to face your greatest rival: mealtime.

Opting for a basic salad, and a small bowl of fruit, you obtain your lunch and sit outside of the cafeteria, tucked away in a little corner. You always loved the space, since it was out of the way of almost every other person’s field of view.

You hesitantly placed the plate and bowl in front of you, slowly sitting down in the hard, plastic, chair. When you went to pick up your fork, your hand shook violently in protest.

Sighing, you put the fork down back in its home next to the plate. You ran your head through your hands as tears burned your eyes. You remembered the words of your friends, more-so they burned in your subconscious.

‘It’s not hard, just eat.’

‘You’re doing this to yourself’

‘Woah here we go again, who would’ve guessed?’

‘Just get over it’

Just get over it… just… just eat. It’s not hard. It’s-

“Hey.”

You slowly brought your teary eyes up to meet shining amber ones. The boy standing before you was clad in a yellow hoodie and black pants. He had red hair, accompanied by a headband, and he was holding a tray of food. “Do you… uh, do you mind if I.. if I join you?”

Sniffling and wiping your tears with an embarrassed chuckle, you agreed hesitantly. “Y-Yeah. Sorry I’m uh, I’m just-“

“No worries.” The unnamed boy said with a patient smile, setting his tray on the table and sitting down, “I couldn’t just sit and listen to you cry, so I wanted to have lunch with you. I hope I’m not making anything worse for you.”

“No! Not at all, I’m just having one of those days, if you know what I mean.” You reply quickly, trying to awkwardly laugh through the situation.

“Oh trust me, I know all about the days.” The red haired-male said, resting his cheek on his closed fist, “I’m Reki by the way, Reki Kyan.” He beamed a close-eyed smile.

“I’m (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N)!” You chirped in response, feeling a little better due to his cheerful demeanor.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N)! So tell me, what do you find to be special about you?” Reki asked happily, picking up a French fry from his tray and popping it into his mouth, “Man, the food in the cafeteria is either gourmet, or prison-grade.”

The comment elicited a chuckle from you. Your attention turned down to the untouched salad in front of you, it’s contents mocking you. You knew it was maybe 250-300 calories, but it was just too many. Sure, you can have some jello when you get back home, but you needed some kind of protein to keep from falling asleep in class.

You picked up your fork, perpetually shaky hands doing nothing to help you do so. “Well since you put me on the spot, I’ve forgotten every interesting thing about me.” You replied awkwardly, stifling a pitiful laugh.

“That’s alright! Im more than happy to go on and on about how coooool I am.” Reki chimed in response. “I love to skateboard. I’ve been doing it for so long, I couldn’t even tell you how old I was when I started-“

His rambling fell deadly upon your ears as you look down at the still untouched salad. You wanted to take a bite of it, just to keep your potential new friend from running away. You just couldn’t bear it… the thought of the empty calories hitting your empty stomach was too much to bear.

You sighed as more tears brimmed fresh in your lash line. You put the fork down in defeat, once again. Eyes blaring holes into the sickeningly-sweet bowl of untouched fruit.

Within a short moment, you felt a warmth encapsulate your shaking hand. You felt a thumb gently rubbing the base of your own, a comforting gesture you found that you seriously lacked in life.

“It’s alright… I know exactly how you’re feeling right now.”

Once again looking up, you managed to see Reki through your clouded vision. His features were sympathetic, as if he truly understood.

“N-No it’s.. it’s nothing.” You reply, sniffling.

“(Y/N)…” He smiles at you sadly, “It’s hard for me sometimes too.”

A short gasp rips from your lungs as you take in the genuinity of his voice. The tears that brimmed at your lash line were now falling on your lap as you hung your head shamefully. “I just want to be normal, Reki.” You whisper through your blossoming hysterics.

The red-haired male wastes no time standing up and kneeling down in the grass, so he could wrap his arms around you securely. “I’ve got you…” he whispered, “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Reki held you with a firm gentleness, with enough pressure to show you he would never leave, but enough softness to keep you from feeling trapped. He held you close and gently rubbed the space between your shoulders. “I’m so proud of you for making it this far.” He whispered, once more sending you into hysterics.

“I-I- I’m just so… so tired of it, Reki.” You choked, “I’m tired of being terrified of something I need to survive. I’m tired of seeing food as a measurement of mental fortitude. I’m tired of having to earn the right to eat certain things by losing weight. I’m tired of never having energy during the day because I’m so under-fed.” You confessed, sinking deeper into the embrace.

“I understand. It may not seem it, but I truly have been where you are before. My relationship with food has improved but, not well…” the red-haired boy replied, “It helped having Joe and Cherry around. Hell, even little Miya was like my personal cheerleader. I know this isn’t a one-time-fix and then poof you’re normal, it’s a difficult and sometimes gross process.”

You nodded, taking in every word.

“Do you mind sitting in the grass? That chair can hardly be comfortable.” Reki asked suddenly, arms retreating from your figure.

You giggled as you settled into the grass next to him. “The chair wasn’t uncomfortable, your knees just hurt, didn’t they?” You dared to tease, sniffling and wiping your remaining tears.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I have very big concern about the health of your tailbone going numb, thank you. If your butt goes numb, I’m not carrying you to your next class.” The redhead teased, hands absentmindedly running through your hair. “We’ll get through this.” He replied.

You sniffled and agreed with a quiet nod. “We… we will.”

“Together.” Reki whispered, holding your hand once more.

Connecting your free hand with the other two, you smiled at Reki as a single tear slipped from your eye.

“Together.”

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

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balmasque · 7 months

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20 (Dazai w Ranpo), 22, 30, 31!

20. Positive memory of Dazai as Ranpo

oh boy! admittedly, dazai is someone i wasnt as close with as i wish i was, but something i remember is we had a pretty similarly brazen sense of humor and were able to bump little jokes off of eachother really well!

22. Most recent memory

i'll go with one for chu2 since she was my most recent kinfirm! not a very exciting one, but i remember having one of those notebooks with furry/fluffy textured covers -- it was light pink and had little kitty faces on it. i'd use it to jot down sources of inspiration/random lyrics that came to me for new music to remember them for later, but i also really liked to stim with the front due to how soft it was

30. Someone you didn't expect to kin/knew you would kin immediately

honestly, i didn't expect to kin trixie roughhouse at all. at first all i knew of her was that like. 20 second clip at the end of season 1 so i didnt have much to go by and didnt really care for her, but after more of her character was revealed in the halloween stream + anime campaign was when i started to get genuine kin feelings. i used to think i kinned her on impulse just to have two from ee, but then prison of plastic came out and told me otherwise LOL

31. A questioning kin and why you haven't kinfirmed them yet

answered here!

#askbox #entrancingmyth #👓 ranpo edogawa 👓#🎧 chiyu tamade 🎧

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victory-cookies · 1 year

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finishing prison of plastic as I clean and Lorelei practically being a canon musical!lydia kin is not something I expected but I also approve

#what’s funny is in the scene where it comes up it really made me think of dead mom #and then like thirty seconds later jello is just like ‘she went to this one musical…’#and I’m like ‘haha it’s beetlejuice’#and it. literally was beetlejuice #and it fucked her up as much as expected #I also am pleased that this (at least in my heart) makes the that beautiful sound cover gio and molly did an actual possibility in-universe #like. It’s a real musical. the scene with Lori explicitly references the song home #so gio and molly did TBS for real

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candied-pear · 3 years

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The Trix Clan

#the trix clan #trix gang #yes it only has three members #1874 #filo #alexel #axel #oc #original character #own character #forest cryptid #forest cryptids #1874 (pronounced eighteen seventy-four) is an escaped prisoner who accidentally started a gang that only has two other members #Alexel is a dragon kin and can take dragon form he likes gold collecting and the wear coloured metals no plastic #and Filo #neither of the other two really know much about him he just showed up cause Alexel put out a flier to join their gang that didn't exist #Filo showed up #the giant flower acts like his eye and can move anywhere in the sphere

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fictionkinfessional · 3 years

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hihi kinning 2d is so weird because uh. outside of kinning i am extemelg gay for murdoc. like i am straifht up in lobe with him. but the ship 2doc is so fucking triggering for me. and my feelings for him in my 2d timeline are so weird and messed up and all i can think about is how horrible plastic beach was. how none of it felt real. i didnt want it to be real. i cant imagine what it was liek for him. nad yeah hes. god he was horrible to me absolutely. horrendous. but i still missed him when he was in prison. i always missrd him. i hate it a part of me hates him too but i dont know. i just want him to be happy. but also? its so. hard. to forgive it was so hard to deal with and i KNOW he was hurting. i fucking know he was hurting but thats no excuse yknow? n i know he knows that now but still. idk what im saying but like. when im bot in a 2d shift i am. god. god i fucking love murdoc with all my heart. but even though 2d is one of my highest kins right now 2doc just. fucking hurts so much. i had a panic attack over it a while ago and it was horrible. its just so bad. straight up abusive yo ! not good shit! not good at all. anyway murdoc if youre reading this???????????????? uh sorry? but not really. im sorry for being mean but i meant what i said. i hope youre doing well though? take care of yourself idk. i dont know i kind of miss you a lot but i dont know. its hard to udnerstand anf i dont. like it. i dont like it at all. but liek whatever LOL youre really good at playing bass idk why you stopped anyway. bye. i cang believe PAULA FUCKING CHEATED ON ME WITH YOU LOL ok im done now. bye for realsies this time

#negative #cheating cw #let me know if there's a better way i can tag that #caps #capital letters #uppercase #long post #swearing #abuse cw #past life abuse #2d kin #gorillaz kin #mod ari

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unironicduncanstan · 3 years

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[UNI’S LPS LORE DROP BITCH]

so ,,, i used to collect littlest pet shop (mostly the 1st and 2nd gen ones bc yall i am old) and theyre long gone now but. these are some of the lps i remember playing with and giving distinct personalities growing up. most of them didnt have names at all so im just referring to them with numbers and pictures. also warning it gets pretty Dark bc weird kid culture but here we go;;;

the first is #11 and #86. they were my absolute FAVORITES, a mother and daughter duo, a lot of their stories revolved around the kitten getting lost and the mom having to get to her, or the kitten dying and the mom having a mental breakdown. 11 mostly acted as a single mom but sometimes id cycle out different potential dads, usually the dog lps bc i did Not care abt the actual scientific lack of interspecial breeding possibilities

#25. a basic white picket fence ass dude, really common choice as the ‘dad’ in the above situation, he also was not immune to being ‘killed off’ for angst. was also cheated on a couple times by 11 (THOSE WERE AUS THO,,, DONT CANCEL HER ITS OK TO KEEP STANNING)

#200. she was #11s best friend, I think her name might have been hannah??? anyways if the mom and dad were killed off sometimes she’d “adopt” #86. but usually only after #86 fell into the custody of a terribly neglectful parent for a while and had to be rescued bc again, in my gay neurodivergent little brain peace was never an option

#487. another love interest for #11, usually competed with #25 in an almost edward vs jacob type battle of cool brooding boy and average mcfamily man. he was a big fav

#672. number #487s sister! usually either helped him get #11 like a wingman, or i’d flip the cards and make her manipulative and sabotage 11 bc she didnt think she was good enough for her brother. the personality switches id give characters were rly like. getting the bad ending in a video game,

#44. YET ANOTHER,, LOVE INTEREST FOR THAT ONE CAT,,,, but it was one sided and he always lost. poor friend zone ass simp im sorry man idk why you deserved that 😔 i think sometimes though id pair him with #200/hannah at the end. cant get the girl date her best friend idk i was 8 my morals were not always applicable to the adult situations i created

#14. SO I,,,, i ended up with three of these. and in the end i made them triplets that performed for the circus and were unhappy in their life of exploitation. i think sometimes they would. form a sui pact to escape their torment.

#137. HIS NAME WAS FUCKEN CHEESE

Groovy goat / unnumbered. I remember she was spanish to me but spoke mostly english, this decision was made bc i was an extremely white american child, and she was almost always involved somehow in a story bc she was my favorite design ever. anyways she usually was a model that would give a struggling lps a ‘makeover’ like that one scene in any dramatic disney live action film ever made

#464. another fav bc of her design omg. she was like a little sweetheart and would often play the role of ‘baby’ for any species i didnt already have designated ‘babies’ for. BUT, when i’d play with the other hamsters (we’ll get 2 them in a sec), i made them all the same age and theyd all crush on her at the same time lmao the DRAMA

#34, #35, #36. they were brothers and in order from left to right;;; biggest brother and a leader+positive role model, then the punkish middle brother that didnt like to listen and would often get them all in trouble, then the youngest nerdy brother that was naive and soft and did w/e he was told. they stuck together thru all their antics, except when #464 was involved, then theyd have a classic ‘fighting over a girl then realizing thats ridiculous’ arc. rly loved these guys cuz i always wanted a hamster so id pretend they were real animals sometimes too loL

#693. i got thsi in a mcdonalds happy meal but anyways she was a princess/queen/whatever and was very spoiled royalty. probably tried to behead some of the other lps idk. all she wanted was drama and money

#112. punk boy,,, usually paired with one of the ‘popular’ girls,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, oh my god did i government assign this dog duncan kin b4 td even existed yet

#48, #79 #42. !! HUGE FUCKEN BITCH ALERT !! (popular girls trio lol), i think a couple times i like, aged down #11 and got rid of the kitten for a ~highschool au~ where these girls bullied her but she ofc ended up stealing the middle ones man. and then other times i just paired the middle girl with #112 in a genuine ‘opposites attract’ ship . where were u guys when i was making duncney lps a thing tbh

#59. i love this guy but he was just an eccentric dork and mostly used for comedic effect

#43. love interest for #59 that he goofily fawned over till he eventually got the girl at the end of every story bc i loved cliches

#673. usually a mysterious adventurous girl from out of town that meets the mains in my story and befriends them/helps them out. also a close friend of the groovy goat character

“Paws off diary” Bull Terrier. ok this ones weird but he came in this lil electronic diary right (you can google how it looks to see what i mean) and there was this like, plastic bubble on top that he came in and you could stick him or any other lps in there and shut it securely cuz it was a diary so i. used it as like. a prison almost where id trap lps and the other characters had to ‘save’ them like they were rescuing a princess from a tower or smth. but it was usually just this lil guy. also he was given a name but i was kinda cheating skjdfsdf it was, “Max” bc that was always his name in the commercials for the diary--

#646 and #647, twin orphans separated at birth. did a lot of princess and the pauper esque ‘long lost siblings from different worlds’ reunion stories with these two

#94. so this one came with a head bandage and a little medical looking case to carry them in. i used the carry case as like an ‘ambulance’ or med helicopter to put ‘sick’ pets in and carry them to the hospital, and this pet had chronic illness so they were always the roommate patient at the lps hospital.

#10 and #142, the goldfish couldnt be taken out of the bowl if i remember correctly so. he felt sad and isolated but the seahorse was his best friend who was able to go anywhere so id stick him in the bowl with him a lot to hang out n make him feel better. solidarity

#463. i LOVED her design, so i used her a lot as just a friend to whoever i was playing with. she was also one of the bigger birds so shes the only one i remember really utilizing as a ‘this character can literally fly’ plot device. she also might have been magic i dont remember. ik whenever i did the circus story she was always in it

#37, #38 and #39. i lost the ‘girl’ one early on, like completely lost it and never found it again so idk what happened to it. so the story was the other two were brothers in a constant search for their long lost sister. sometimes id either have another lps be their sister or make a ‘found family’ trope out of somebody

#331. i had two of these and they come with little hats but i lost one of the hats so. evil twin story babey the regular one was a nice old pirate guy but the one with the hat was evil and nobody could ever tell the difference

#641, IM THE TRASH MAN! I START EATIN GARBAGE,

#long post #i had many more but these were my muses #original

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cubanmalefootlover · 4 years

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Bad Boy gets The Feather

-AAAAAAWW-AAAAWW-HAAHAHAHAHAHEHEEHEEHEEHEE! STOP HAHAHA! STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT PLEEEZZZ! PLEEEEHEHEHEHEHEEEEZZZZHH!!!...

A young man shrieks in hysterics as his bare feet are tickled without mercy by a masked man.

-PLEASE-PLEASE-PLEASE-PLEAAHWSZZHHH AAAAAWWH-AAAAHAAWWW- OOWWOOOOWWWAAAAA-AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!! I CANT TAK’IT!! AAAI CANT TAK’ITT!! AAAH MY GADSS!! AHH MAHH GAADSS HAHAHAA…!!!

His desperate pleas fall on deaf ears while the fierce assault just continues.

-AAWH-NO-NO-NO-NO-NOO-NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!! NOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO HOHOHOHOHOHO!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEEHEHEHEHEWWHSZHH!!! NAAAHIA HIAHIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CANT TAK’IT ANYMOOOOOOHO HOHOHOHOOORRR PLEEEEEHEEHEEHEEZZZZH STOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!!!

The young man squirms and writhes as much as he can, but the way he’s tied up gives him too little room, so there is NO WAY to escape of his ordeal. The masked man is taking very seriously his duty, he seems to never tire of sliding a big feather all over the boy’s soles, sometimes just grazing the barbs, sometimes raking the calamus all along the skin from heels to toes up and down, up and down, up and down assiduously.

-OH MY GAADS OH MY GAHAHAHAHDSS SOMEBODY HEHEHEHELP ME!!! OHHHOHO SOMEBAHAHAHAHAHADY PLEAHAHAHAZZZ HELP HEEELP NOT LIKE THAAHAHAHAHATT!!!!!! HIIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!!!! NOOOOHOHO HOHOHOHOHO!!!! GAADSSS MAAHAHAWGHK… MAKE IT STAAAP!!! AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!! MAAHAAHAHAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAAAGHWK IT STOHOHOHOHOHO HOHOHOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOHOHOHOHAHAHA AAOHOHOHOWW!!! STAP! PLEEHEHEHEEHEHEEHEEEHEHEHEEEZZZZ!!!!

The torturer would change the feather by his manicured fingernails or hairbrushes or forks or Velcro, but his victim is ticklish enough to stay miserably howling with laughter for hours. Oh yeah, the feather have that devastating effect on the supersensitive nerve-endings of his feet. The masked man wants to make his prisoner suffer. And indeed the prisoner is! His deep voice has become raucous with gusts of potent laughter echoing all through the dungeon.

-AHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEEEEEEEEEAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! SOOHOHOHOHOMBAHAHAAAAAAHAHAADY STAP THIS PLEASE!!!

The masked man is as cruel as a demon…

-AAAAAHAHAHAAWWWWW! NOOOO-NOOO-NONONONONONONONONONO NONOOOO NOT THE TOES NAAHAHAHAHAT THE TOESS PLEEEEZZZ…!!!! –yelled the captive every time the masked man devoted himself to scratch the stiff calamus in between his toes and prickle them all along.

-OHH PLEEEEHHHZZ LISTEN LIIHIHIHIHIHISENT TO ME MAN!! ILL DO ANYTHIIHIHINNN… ANEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEETHN YAAAAHAAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA WAAHAHAHHAHANNN… ANYTHIINNN AAAANITHHNNN YAAAUHUHUHUHUHU WAAAAAAANT!!! JUST STOP THIS SHIT PLEASE!!! YOU GONNA KILL MEEEHEHEHEHEEE!!!!...

The victim just wiggles his toes to no avail; whenever he curls them, the tormentor manages to insert the calamus or the barbs in the tender gap between the digits and darts or saw there to no end. The boy is in ticklish hell and all he can do is keep crying, hollering and guffawing, face down, shaking his head, all wrapped, on that bed, just like a madman.

Two hours prior…

After noon, a local hooligan known as Bad Boy went out his gang’s den. At first sight you could notice he’s one of the dangerous gang’s boys of the district, judging by his attire: puffy leather jacket over a white wife-beater shirt, baggy jeans and steel-toed black military boots, covering his head a black beanie, a distinctive tattoo on his neck and bully attitude. Stylish sunglasses and a cigarette dangling from the edge of his lips completed that charm very typical of naughty men. His eyes fired anger and his tattooed hands were often closed in heavy fists ready to be discharged. He must be in his early twenties, guiding by his fresh, clean-shaven face. This slob has already got out of bed. Last night he was partying like crazy with his friends, tons of alcohol, drugs, wild sex and all kind of tough excitement. They were celebrating their last felony.

Bad Boy had been spotted by a man since a week. This man was in his thirties, nerd-looking, average built, goatee, glasses and reserved attitude. This mysterious man was following Bad Boy for some blocks in his van. Obviously he had made this many times before because he knew the delinquent’s routine and when he got off the van, he managed to disguise himself among the crowd. Bad Boy had a meeting in a deserted factory with some members of his gang, planning their next “job”.

Within his van, the chaser reviewed a list where it’s shown the picture of a young guy and some features:

Name: Unknown

Nickname: Bad Boy

Age: 24

Height: 5’9”

Weight: 75 kg

Built: Slim/muscular

Foot size: 9 US

Address: Unknown (He lives with the moll of the moment or in his gang’s den or in the street)

Police records: starting as car robber at 13 y.o, then vandalism, assailant, gang rape, gang banging, armed robbery, grievous bodily harm, extortion, drug dialer, arms dialer and the list kept increasing.

After the meeting, a twenty something woman joined Bad Boy in a corner. The hooligan and his moll went into a restaurant. The mysterious man sat at a distant table. They were talking quietly, looking around with suspicion. The moll visited the restroom. The nerd-looking man walked after her… She just felt a prick on her neck before falling on the floor. The man quickly lifted her and threw her in a container. Then he casually returned back to his table. Bad Boy was impatient. He threw some bills on the table and left the restaurant.

The chaser followed his target in his van for a few blocks until a half deserted street. Knowing well where the bully would go, he turned by a corner, then got out of the van and simply walked in the opposite direction of Bad Boy. When they passed each other, the man raised his hand with the speed of a sneak. Furious, the hooligan turned around and grabbed the stranger by the arm but he couldn’t beat him. He suddenly started losing all control of his muscles. He weakly grasped the shirt of his attacker with a hand while the other took his gun, but he just fell on his knees and then slowly collapsed on the sidewalk.

-Whattha fack… oh shit… what did ya do?... –he mumbled.

Bad Boy got paralyzed like an insect after the bite of a spider. He could feel all his body sensations, but was unable to move an inch. Now, powerless, vulnerable, Bad Boy was hastily picked up from the street, placed over the man’s shoulder and carried to his van.

-Who’re ye…? Why’tha fuck… ya’r doin this to… me…?

Without wasting a second, the man got his prey within his van and locked the doors. He had put a false number plate, just in case, then tied up his prisoner’s wrists and ankles with plastic cuffs, slid down his beanie to cover his eyes, then started the engine and vanished…

Bad Boy was conscious the whole time. He couldn’t see the place where he was taken, but he kept roaring his threats. Silence was the only man’s answer.

-What’he heck… ye inject me… SLIMBALL???!! Ya… FUC…KIN COWARD… ya had t’get m’down ‘caus’ ya can’t face ME!!

-WHO THE HELL’R YO?!! –The hooligan could kill his captor if he wasn’t immobilized-. Who ‘re ya workin for, looser??!! Won’t ye say a wor’??!!! MAH PE’PLE WILL FIND YA AND KILL YA, FUCK’RR!!!!

Ten minutes and the van arrived to a lonely place. The man picked Bad Boy up in his shoulders and carried him by flat floor and then downstairs.

-YA’RE STAPID!! MAH BOYS’ILL CA’CH YE IN’A’HOUR AN’ YA’LL BE DEAD MAN!!!

The kidnapper had come to an enclosed place, more exactly a basement converted into a dungeon, soundproof walls, with discreet vents.

-Ye must be workin fer som’one!!! TELL HIS NAME!!!

Bad Boy didn’t stop of mumble-crying not even for a single minute; the effects of the drug were lessening gradually.

-DON’T YOU HEAR ME??! SCREW YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!!

The space was occupied by a big mattress on a short-legged table bolted to the floor, iron railings at the top and bottom of this thing; another table armed with leather straps and medical restraints at various points, wooden beams in the ceiling with chains and shackles hanging from them, some sets of wooden stocks and a big shelf filled with a variety of tools…

Bad Boy had regained the mobility of his head and could speak aloud.

-STOP THIS SHIT AND GET ME OUT’F HERE! I WON’T DO ANYTHIN IF YOU STOP THIS SHIT MAN!!!

The chaser placed his prey on the mattress, brought some rolls of duct tape and began to wrap his victim from shoulders to the calves, so that the head and army boots stuck out. Bad Boy increased his threatening; none of his bully boy tactics got the awaited effect.

-Get this fuckin shit out’f my eyes! I wanna see you!! DO IT, DICKHEAD!!!

The kidnapper changed his glasses for a mask on his face before slide out his prisoner’s knitted cap. Bad Boy blinked a bit while focused his eyes around and in his captor staring at him intently. When he realized his situation, firmly immobilized and helpless at the mercy of this freak inside this odd place, he began to feel scared. This wasn’t the job of a rival gang. This guy should be a psycho or something. His heart was hammering like mad; big drops of sweat began to form in his forehead.

-WHO THE HELL’RE YOU?

-Call me Avenger –the man’s answer was heard through a device to distort his voice.

-What??! You crazy? TAKE THIS SHIT OUT’F MY BODY AND I’LL SHOW YA!

-Get ready, today you’ll pay all your felonies for good, you piece of shit.

-Wait-wait-wait! If I-I did wrong against you or your people we-we can speak about it…

-Late to negotiations…

The Avenger walked to the foot bed and sat close his prisoner’s legs. Bad Boy noticed with worry the way this freak was devouring his combat boots with his eyes. The Avenger started to unlace them.

-Hey, you… DICKHEAD!! WHAT’RE YOU DOIN??! GET YOUR FUCKIN HANDS OFF MY SHOES!!! What the hell’s wrong with you????! HEY!! HEEYYY!!

Seeing his screams fell on deaf ears, Bad Boy began to struggle with all his might. Having recovered his physical strength, he managed to sit on the bed while kicked his wrapped legs vigorously against his attacker. The Avenger brought some straps and secured Bad Boy’s duct tape mummy to the hooks of the bed at his shoulders, waist, knees and calves, so that the captive could not move any longer, but squirms a little. Then he resumed unlacing the footwear, it took some time since these were calf-length boots with long, well-knotted laces. Finally he slipped one after the other and held them in his hands a few seconds admiring them: black shiny steel-toed combat boots, size 9. Bad Boy peered down toward the masked man with a perplexed look. A smell of sweaty feet wafted in the air. The white woolen socks he wore were damp and stained. Instinctively, Bad Boy curled his toes inside the socks.

Without delay, both socks were peeled off, exposing a pair of dirty soles that got the Avenger satisfied. Obviously Bad Boy never wasted time pampering his feet, they were rough, with lots of calluses all over the heels and the ball; long, crooked toes, his toenails weren’t trimmed, either. The kind of feet you’d expect in a man like him, which made them look utterly masculine. The habit of wearing those boots permanently kept his feet warm and reeking, the arches were wrinkly and the toes squishy. The Avenger stuffed the humid socks inside the boots and brought a box. Bad Boy raised his head trying to see the content of that box.

-What you have in that thing, man?

The Avenger showed him a large feather. Bad boy grimaced with disbelief. That feather could only have one sense, but it was so unbelievable, ridiculous, that he sniggered as only reaction. Again he involuntarily curled his bare toes as a chill went down his spine…

-What’re you gonna do with that stupid feather, slimball??

-What do you think it happens when feathers come upon feet, smart-ass?

-You gonna tickle me? –asked Bad Boy incredulously-. That’s ridiculous!

-You think so, really?

-Sure, idiot! Anyway, I'm not ticklish!!!

-So you won’t mind if the feather takes a walk by here…

The masked man dragged the feather up and down Bad Boy’s sole: his both feet flinched briskly at the mere contact. His lanky toes fanned out a second: there were lots of sock lint and skin debris in between them.

-YOU SON OF A BITCH BROUGHT ME HERE TO TICKLE MY FEET??!!! This can’t be happen to me!! HEY GET ME FREE YOU FUCKIN NERD AND ILL SHOW YOU HOW TO TREAT A MAN!!

Bad Boy thrashed about and fought back as much as he could; he just got tired and even more infuriated. The kidnapper stayed looking at him through the holes of his mask with satisfaction. He resumed running the feather over the left sole. It was very funny the way Bad Boy wiggled his toes trying in vain to avoid the tickling.

-HELL NO! -He tilted his head back and forth violently-. Don’t do that, man! Wait…WAIT… HOHOHOSHIIITT let’s talk… LEHETS TAHAALK!

The Avenger danced the calamus of the feather by the right toes, focusing on the underside and the tender gap between them. Then slid down the ball and gently began to stroke the stiff thing up and down.

-How does it feel, huh? Staying helpless when someone does with you what he wants?

-Hey, stop this shit and let me go! This is stupid, man! You can’t do this!

Bad Boy gritted his teeth fighting to pull his foot away but the grip of the Avenger prevented him even scrunch.

-Talk, scumbag… Tell The Avenger how this feels…

The quill slid down all along the sole to the heel and circled there. Bad Boy wanted to scream, but his macho façade prevented him. If he screamed, it’d be as singing his defeat and confirms his humiliation. The Avenger was inspired, he used three feathers, which meant three quills to rake the sole, making special intent in the arch, then the ball below the toes and then the heel, increasing the speed.

-Listen… man… untie me… we’re alone here… we can resolve this like men… Oh shit! HEY… LET’S HAVE A FISTFIGHT… A FISTFIGHT JUST LIKE MEN…!!

The Avenger was deaf as a rock. Bad Boy could feel his strength failing shamefully. Tickling was a stuff of kids, women or faggots. Men aren’t ticklish, less tough men like him. This was so absurd, so wimpish, so girlish, but this shit was actually getting him out of himself.

After a few minutes, the hooligan cracked loudly:

-AAAAAAAAWWW…HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA!!!!! STAP MAN!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OOOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA YOU WIN YOU WIN FUCKIN BITCH YOU WIN JUST STOP THIS PLEASE!!!!!! AAAHHHHH…!!!! MAAAN IT TICKLES… IT TICKLES… OH STOP IT TICKLSH AAASTAAAOHOHOP PLEASE I CAN'T IT I CANT STAHAHAHA HAHAHAAND IT AAWWIHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! STOP TICKLIN MAHI HATE IT AHAHAHAHAA STOP!!! ILL KILL YOU!!! ILL KILL YOU FUUUHUHUAHAHCKKERR!!!! OOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA…!!!!!

The Avenger knew how to keep a real pig of a man laughing like a hyena and begging for mercy; and just with a harmless method like feathering his defenseless feet.

A half hour later, the Avenger gave Bad Boy a rest. The captive was out of breath, panting and quivering as if he had a fit. His face was drenched in sweat. He thought this was all, but to his dismay, the Avenger turned his mummy form around to have him lie now on his belly. His tough-boy soles looked even more attractive upside down.

-C’MON, DUDE! –screeched Bad Boy-. I'm finished!... Hey, what’s wrong with you?! I beg you, Avenger, get me out of here… I won’t do anything against you… I SWEAR! LET ME GO HOME…!!!

Bad Boy wanted to think that this crazy was done. He had to get out of this or he would die for sure. He used a humble tone:

-Ok… I’ll do whatever you want… Let’s talk, ok? Let’s talk… -He was still panting and coughing-. I underestimated you… I know I did something wrong against you or your family, right? We-we can sort this out! You just ask me something to compensate, man! Let’s talk!

The Avenger understood the tactic, but he had made his decision. Bad Boy saw a hypodermic being prepared.

-WHAT'S THAT?!! -he yelled with renewed nervousness.

-Something to help you feel better through the experience.

-NAH! YOU WANNA HURT ME BAD! This is like the paralyzin’ thin’ you put me earlier! You had had enough from me, man! You should free me now! YER GONNA KILL ME…!!!

- This will make you feel even more than before.

-I JUST WANNA FEEL YOU CUTTIN THIS SHIT’N GETTIN ME OUT’F HERE!!

After reluctantly being injected, Bad Boy was again squirming with all his might to no avail. The half hour of tickling had tired him, but above all, had infused him with the most gut panic he’d felt in his life. Within few minutes, the effects of that injection began to be evident. Bad Boy felt as if every inch of his body had gotten extremely touchy: the mere brushing against his skin made him flinch. His unprotected soles were now peculiarly sensitive that he could feel the flapping of a fly at several inches from his feet or it was turned on an air conditioner directly over his naked feet.

The Avenger repositioned himself in his beloved place close to Bad Boy’s tootsies. His dirty lanky toes clenched violently, there wasn’t a single surface left untouched on those rough soles. In the other end, Bad Boy bobbed his head up and down hysterically.

-OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OAAHHH MY GAAAADSS!!!! STAP IT STAP IT STAP IT FUCKERRRRR!!! OOOOHHHHHSSSHIITTT!!! OH SHIT! I CANT TAKE IT!!!!!! AAAAAAHHHHH!!!! AAAAHHHHWWW!!!!! AAAAAAHHH!!!! AHAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!! FAAAAACKKK!!!! AHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAWWWWWHHHH!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

If it had been proved that his feet were very ticklish before the injection, now Bad Boy was in the verge of his sanity. His brain was being brutally bombarded with excruciating levels of ticklishness registering from the nerves of his assaulted feet. He opened wider his mouth to release steaming, frantic gales of laughter boiling from his lungs: the only relieve for such UNBEARABLE feeling.

Completely absorbed in his job, the Avenger kept viciously raking the feather to and fro the soles, arches, balls, heels and toes of the hooligan’s feet for hours. Bad Boy’s eyes filled with tears of sheer agony while hoarsely begged for the tickling stop and be freed. Nevertheless, there was no clue of mercy for his crimes.

The next day

The Avenger kept on tickling Bad Boy’s helpless feet for hours till the son-of-a-bitch were no longer squirming. The masked man turned around to see the face and found Bad Boy’s eyes fixed in an apoplectic trance, his mouth winced in a permanent sardonic smile, but not breathing.

The Avenger has accomplished his task! He gave a last scratching to the felon’s soles… no response.

The Avenger picked the body up the bed and carried it to his sinister van.

-At least you leave this world with a big smile in your scumbag face…

Three days later

The mailman knocks at a door. A twenty something woman opens and gets a package, she signs and the mailman leaves. The girl opens the package with anxiety; she sensed it has something to do with her man: a local hooligan known as Bad Boy. Inside the box there is a pair of black shiny steel-toed combat boots. Her eyes start filling with tears because she knows the owner of these boots. Inside them there are some white woolen socks, dirt-stained on the bottom and reeking. She knows that smell too.

The End

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theangrypokemaniac · 4 years

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its fine if you dont like alola but can you not make incest jokes?

I'm not joking. I'm serious.

Alola, or, as I prefer, La Boca del Infierno, ain't all sunshine and smiles as it pretends. Beneath that plastic exterior lies true darkness.

What am I meant to think when I see this?

There's swimming pools bigger than the gene pools down their way!

Although described as 'twins', it's really triplets, but Lana suffers a prematurely ageing growth abnormality.

Children I expect to bear a similarity to their parents, but the moms 'n' dads ain't meant to look like each other!

Everyone here has blue barnets and Inside-Out Eye, where the pupil's the white and the white's the pupil.

Sight defects are notorious in the 'close-knit' communities.

Each insists on hair decoration, but it's almost part of their heads, which you can call bad animation or deformity resulting from too much intermarriage.

Momma's 'thing' just resembles lumps.

It's them space ticks at it again.

Even the hedgehog is round in this house, which may imply he's an illegitimate offspring of one of 'em.

What about inbreeding suggests practitioners won't stoop to even greater infamy?

Stufful's dad never arrived did he?

Funny that, and a bachelor like Oakie-Dokie residing nearby knew nothing about it.

All that bathing in Cuprenol does terrible things to a man.

Ever wondered what'd go down in the marriage of Tweedledum and Tweedledee? Well here you are, yer deviant.

A pair of pudding-faced, gormless Cabbage Patch Dolls, each with snouts, black button eyes and glandular issues, and they don't share DNA even when they do?

Oh yes, Lusamine met a total stranger also possessing her lime pies and effusive mane of unruly, ice-blonde slats.

Total coincidence there.

He came to Alola, he says. On a prison ship.

It's just one head in triplicate!

Oversized an' all: sure sign of genetic tomfoolery.

Dot Nose, Bridge Nose, Fish Eye: bloody serious case we have on our hands.

Now you understand why she failed to remarry: no other brothers cuts yer options ter nil.

Incest is of course, relative.

Whatever dæmon they worship, some are more pious about it than their fellow perverts.

The more dedicated the believer, the greater insistence on keeping things running in the family.

They'll show off their interwoven connections to the neighbours in a smug game of one-upmanship.

The more lapsed follower will tolerate copulation with distant kin.

These sinners are naturally despised and forced into menial labour, whereas the fanatics just so happen to be rolling in wealth.

Consider:

• Lana's family get by on a fisherman's salary, apparently.

Yeah, yeah, as if the state doesn't have to subsidise their medical bills.

• Sophocles don't go hungry, he has a lab, a giant hamster wheel, a portable hologram in a Pikachu, and he's so rich he not only had the roof fixed, but can move down the road in the meantime.

Oi! The rest of us get by putting a bucket under the leak!

• Lillie has every material possession possible, but no spine or company.

Oh the irony that top sickos should be so resistant to the lure of family obligation.

Hey, yer didn't say that earlier!

• Lusamine is fawned upon for her pwehshush research to the extent she can abandon her children, turning her daughter into a nervous wreck and her son a moody, absent drifter, and it's up to them to understand her work comes first.

• Mohn (by name and nature) fannied about with worm holes until he got sucked off by another dimension.

What did yer think would happen?

Yet on his return, is he knocked on his arse as he deserves?

No, because of incest privileges. The in-group take care of their own, and worse.

Mallow's mater and pater both share hair, thick brows and close-together peepers of murky green.

The contrast in noses suggests something lesser than siblings, but then again other differing aspects are forgivable.

She is of a lighter pallor, being dead, and wanting an open coffin, had a shave beforehand, which is a frightening nod to morality.

Woman, are you ashamed of our love?

Well Abe went along with it, thus is also culpable of this grotesque bristle denial.

Being unclean, he's gotta cook the dinner.

And this lot milk the cows.

On the surface, Kiawe's old 'uns aren't identical. You might think some heretical decency has finally sneaked in under the oppressive Alola regime, but it ain't that simple.

These people pray to a volcano as if an earthbound deity, so are nutters.

One aspect you must remember:

Ol' Granpappy the Island Kakuna, i.e. a dried-up chrysalis.

'Cause Pappy got Momma's tufts...

And Dadda's humourless mouth, oblong head, straight-line nose, rectangular eyes and pin pupils.

Well that's not how it's s'posed to go!

I'm thinking Granpappy, as one of them there Kakunas, is in a position of power high enough that he's able to wilfully flaut the laws he imposes on others, like how popes had kids in the Good Old Days and no one took a blind bit o' notice.

He's a rebel I tells yer.

He don't play by the rules.

No sister-wife for him.

Not when he's got a sexy cousin a-waitin'.

A little bit of new blood's crept in, disgracefully so, that's why the whole lot's punished by living near an active volcano.

Surrender 'em to the flames!

Kiawe makes such a big deal about Pappy, and sod the other three grandparents.

Except he only had two!

What is the explanation?

1. Bone-idle writing team.

Character design is foundational stuff. If yer can't even be arsed to do that properly, nothing you do is worthwhile.

I mean, come on, repeating the same model that blatantly?

Halfwits so limited in imagination shouldn't be working in any creative industries.

I blame modern diets.

A whole generation's grown up timid and risk averse because they were taught to fear E. numbers as kids.

I make it a rule to suspect any sod unaware of the joy of a blue tongue.

They've never lived, man!

Where did you think it'll end when dangerous, pretend edibles like houmous, avocados and quinoa replace the wholesome, nourishing fare of biscuits, cake and crisps?

Stop toying with the fundamental principles of the universe!

The mess of the modern era screams systematic abuse of too much kale and not enough sugar.

2. Incest

Alola is extremely insular.

It's implied to be a tourist destination, but no amount of degenerate outside influence appears to have diluted the weird customs it still upholds.

They didn't even think of starting a League until Ash turned up with all his wild exoticism, and why's that?

A. Inbreeding has destroyed their capability for innovation.

B. Many thousands of years ago, Alola got well annoyed its dirty habits weren't exactly catching on as it strove to spread the Satanic message.

Thoroughly confounded in its plans for world conquest, Alola shut itself off in a purification ritual, which is why later developments popular elsewhere, such as replacing beasts of burden with machines, never caught on.

3. Alola isn't Hawaii, it's a combination of Australia, a penal colony, and Crete, where lived the lepers.

Specifically it's a dumping ground for all the regions' sex offenders to keep their own societies clean.

Of course, the guilty took their nearest and dearest along too, since they were on the receiving end, and loved it.

This explains the large amount of foreign Pokémon, since the owners are also from abroad.

Now I think 'anging's too good for 'em, but these wet-willy countries insist on storing up trouble for themselves, for if cinema has taught us anything, it is that mutants will always escape.

Nature finds a way, however abominable.

Since so many on Tumblr simply love Alola, they aren't about to admit the slightest weakness in the creators' abilities.

Therefore, incest is the acceptable answer to all and sundry.

#pokémon #lana #lana's parents #sophocles #sophocles's parents #lillie #lusamine #mohn #mallow #mallow's mom #abe #kiawe #sima #rango #kiawe's grandfather #alola #inbox

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