#power in this case being custody

[dirtytransmasc]

You said in your hcs post how gnarly the Custad battle for spider will be, I don’t think it will be that bad since I’m sure the sullys wouldn’t care that bad as long as spiders not turning against them

I think it would be really nasty case both parties have been at odds for so long (but also not really at the same time, like Quaritch is a resurrected enemy, so the way time is measured with them is so weird) and their wounds runs so deep.

Jake would probably be unwilling to let Spider go to Quaritch cause he can never fully forgive him, even if he redeems himself. Jake's trauma has caused him to reactive towards any threats, real, fake, or potential. Quaritch will, most likely, never not be a threat to him. he would be more than willing to keep spider away from him if it meant his family would be safer. Neytiri would not want spider around if he went with Quaritch but knows that her kids would not likely hold some sort of animosity towards her if she sent their friend/brother away. The kids all have different feelings towards spider and would react differently to the whole situation; Kiri would be po'd about it, Spider is her closest friend, and understands what it's like to not have your birth parents (even if he got one back, he's know that pain for 16 years), she would want to keep him close. Lo'ak, in the case of losing Neteyam, would probably flip; not only is he losing another brother, but he's losing him to the man responsible for his brother's death. In the case of him not losing Neteyam (so canon divergence), he's still losing a brother and friend. He knows that this is gonna rip the family apart, and that scares him (that kid has to have anxiety and attachment issues after their childhood). Neteyam would feel slightly betrayed; he's only been taught to know Quaritch as the bastard that destroyed his home, and he can't see him any different, even if this clone of the one who hurt his family, is doing everything he can to better himself and make up for the suffering he and his original self has caused. Tuk being the youngest, would have the hardest time understanding it; all she wants is her brother, and she knows her parents don't like Quaritch, so she would feel so conflicted and confused.

Long story short, Spider going with Quaritch, no matter the circumstance, would feel like betrayal in one way or another. Jake is too protective, Neytiri has so much trauma tracing back to that man (she couldn't let Spider go to him and come back, but she can't take him away from his siblings, no matter her feelings for him), and the kids are strung between their parents and their brother.

Quaritch, on the other hand, just wants his kid. He's desperate to have his kid. I feel like if he risks everything to redeem himself, and he doesn't at least get to have Spider, he will lose it. One person can only handle so much mental weight before they snap; leaving the company that has controlled so much of your life, are basically war-armed gods, and now have a very good reason to kill, is already a lot to bare. But if you add the fact of being kept away from the one thing you gave it all up for, you'd go a little crazy. I could see Quaritch turning to rage, and desperation, much like Neytiri had.

It would not be an easy transition, no matter how it happens, at least not at first before trust is built.

also jake is kinda petty, in like, the dad way (if that even makes sense), so I could really see that tendency to be hypocritical and overbearing coming out in this situation; like, despite never being a good father to spider (more like a shitty owner at this point) he would act as though he was better for Spider then Quaritch. Despite accepting Quaritch as an ally, or at least not an enemy, he feels entitled to keep his son from him.

There's also the whole son for a son thing if we look at this from a canon standpoint.

basically, things would be very complex and chaotic, at least at the very beginning, but things getting any better would be a long and rocky road that may go untravelled.

[infinite-orangepeel]

steddie x having no understanding of boundaries when it comes to dustin not being their actual child

steve: henderson, eddie and i are gonna need you to sign a few documents before we get married next month

dustin: okay. what for ?

eddie: listen kid, there’s no easy way to say this-

steve: it would only happen in the worst possible case scenario-

eddie: and we’ll do everything in our power to prevent it-

dustin: jesus christ ! you’re scaring me. spit it out already !

steve: essentially, your father and i need you to sign off on us having shared custody over you—on the slight, slight, practically nonexistent chance that we ever get divorced.

eddie: precisely.

dustin: um. you guys do know i have a mom, right ?

[yuesya]

“The Zenins finally named an heir?”

“Yup, seems like they finally got around to it,” Satoru laughs. “Or maybe their clan head just did it on a whim?”

It’s an amusing thought. The current head of the Zenin Clan is an extraordinarily difficult person to pressure into doing anything –as this sort of thing tends to be, when the person in question is apparently of the opinion that ‘murder’ is an excellent solution to most of her problems. For all that the Gojo elders are constantly grumbling over how the Zenins’ clan head should technically belong to them and not the Zenins, Satoru doesn’t doubt that there are a number of them who are also quietly relieved by not having to deal with someone who has no qualms about killing and isn’t afraid to make her stance obvious. Or act on it, for that matter.

Suguru tilts his head. “The Zenin clan head… oh, I think I remember her. She came around the Tokyo campus once before, didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Satoru grins at the other boy. “You asked me if she was one of my clansmen, remember?”

Suguru flushes slightly in embarrassment as he snaps, “Well how was I supposed to know? The two of you really do look alike, I can’t be the only one who thinks that!”

“Mhm. You’re definitely not the only one.” Zenin Shiki has what’s considered the ‘classic’ Gojo look, all silvery-white hair and light coloration, instead of the Zenin appearance. Ebony hair and eyes, as dark as the shadows that the Zenins pride themselves in.

That still doesn’t change the fact that she’s a Zenin and not a Gojo, though.

“Sorcery clans tend to intermarry with each other,” is all he offers in explanation to his civilian-born friend. Usually, when there are such unions between well-established bloodlines of equal standing and prestige, there are certain vows in place –such as children being returned to the mother’s clan should they turn out to have inherited signature techniques from the mother’s side of the family.

In the case of Zenin Shiki, however, the Gojo Clan discovered that there was a loophole. She possessed cursed eyes, yes, but they were unprecedented in the long history of the Gojo Clan. Therefore, as the Gojo Clan had not demanded that all children possessing cursed eyes be relinquished to them as part of the vow, it stood to reason that new abilities born of the union would be considered as belonging to the Zenin Clan.

To be fair, cursed eyes were rare, and the only real case that still existed among sorcerers in this day and age was the Six Eyes. Which were rare enough already, and usually only found in the Gojo Clan’s main family.

No one had thought that there would be a Zenin granddaughter of a Gojo-Zenin union resulting in a pair of new cursed eyes.

The Zenin elders had probably been unbearably smug about the whole thing, up until they’d been slaughtered by the girl when she ascended her position over her former clan head’s cooling corpse. After which it had probably been the Gojo elders’ turn to wipe their brows and be thanking their lucky stars over having narrowly dodged a bullet there.

Or not, as the case may be; there were still some old fogeys laboring under the impression that the Zenin Clan had simply ‘raised the child wrong’ and that she would’ve turned out to be so much better had the Zenins admitted their own inadequacies and surrendered custody of the girl to them.

Pfft.

Well, it wasn’t as if any of them could turn back time. What’s done was done, and now they had to live with the consequences of their decisions.

Interesting choice for Zenin Shiki to name Zenin Naoya as her heir, though.

Ordinarily, a new clan head who’d supplanted their predecessor through force would want to establish their own bloodline as the new ruling family, but clearly Zenin Shiki had foregone picking one of her close cousins to be her heir. None of them had been specifically elevated to positions of power, either. She herself also had not chosen to marry into one of the more influential Zenin bloodlines as part of an alliance through marriage.

The only strength I need is my own, was the message that Satoru was seeing here.

… Or perhaps not? After all, the unexpected choice of Naoya as heir was definitely going to give people thoughts. Especially those who’d been very unhappy when Zenin Naobito, the previous head of the Zenin Clan, had been killed by a small slip of a girl. A girl who was distinctly Gojo-looking in appearance, despite her Zenin blood –the Zenins likely still had hang-ups about their clan head being killed by a Gojo, given the… historical precedent behind such a thing.

Hmm.

… Well, whatever game Zenin Shiki was playing here, it didn’t have anything to do with Satoru. And hey, maybe she wasn’t playing any games at all –maybe Zenin Naoya was just the strongest Zenin in the younger generation, and she’d made her decision based on that?

Who knows?

[youraverageaemondsimp]

DILF!Aemond Targaryern, DILF!Aegon ii Targaryen x Reader (Separate) // HEADCANONS/DRABBLE.

WARNINGS: slight smut, mdni, afab!reader, age gap, breeding kink (aemond), p in v sex (aemond), unprotected sex (aemond), cunnilingus (aegon), oral f receiving (aegon), + not proof read.

(this is technically not a full blown hcs but neither is it a full drabble, so that's why I added both in the title)

WC: 1.3k total (aemond + aegon parts)

Aemond Targaryen !!

You knew that you definitely needed an older guy after your immature and toxic break up with the guy around your age, who treated you with almost no value.

But what you didn't expect was to catch the eye of your dad's boss during an event you had attended with him, he was in his early thirties with 2 children with his former divorced wife, Floris Baratheon.

Your relationship began quite formally at first, with him being a complete gentleman, asking you about your educational background, what job you were doing and he had asked for your number ‘just in case’ you need a job if you lose the current one, it felt more like a job offer than a normal conversation.

Until he began to text you good mornings, ask you about your day — at first he would do just that, and leave a smiley emoji after your response, but as time passed on, and you felt more comfortable around each other, he began to share a few personal things.

He had opened up about his divorce with his wife, how it affected him and the kids, — oh the kids, he would share pictures of them when he would be the one spending time with him, he had told you that he was fighting for full custody since Floris was basically neglecting them when they're spending time with her, and you wished him luck.

Soon you both begin to meet up, go on dates, he was stoic, with no expression on his face so it was hard to read through him, but eventually you'd learn to decipher his micro expressions.

You couldn't ignore the way he made you feel anymore, and you made it official, your dad was shocked and angry thinking Aemond had abused his power to get to you but once you explained everything, he calmed down.

You moved out of your apartment into his house, he had given you heads up about the kids that they're hard to handle and dont welcome strangers that easily, but you had told him that you'll manage everything.

And eventually you got along with the kids, and everything in life seemed to be moving fast from there onwards, Aemond got full custody of the kids after proving the neglect they were facing from the mother's side. Which you congratulate him about.

He would often stare at you when you'd play with the kids, he couldn't help but have the thought of your stomach swollen with his child, he'd eventually confess to you about it during your intimate moments.

“Oh fuck— yes right there!” You throw your head back against the pillows as Aemond thrusts into at full force, his desperate hands grabbing any flesh he could find, giving it a tight squeeze. You moaned as you peaked, as his tip repeatedly hit your sweet spot.

“I'm coming.” He grunts, “Jeez— I want to finish inside you so bad, watch you grow round with my child– fuck— I can only imagine the sight.” His words made you feel warm on the inside, and when he went to pull out, you locked your legs around his waist, to which he was surprised by, “Do it inside me then.” You say seductively and he immediately begins to thrust rapidly, he finishes inside you with a moan, painting your walls white before he pulls out, watching intently as his seed drips out of your cunt.

“Mhm, I think Aerys and Rhaegal would love to have a little sister.” He says as he plops down next to you, pulling you into his arms, “I think they would.” You reaffirm, rubbing your thighs together, feeling even more turned on as his seed sticks to your thighs.

“We should definitely make sure it takes.” You tell him, implying at a second round and he smirks knowingly.

Aegon ii Targaryen !!

You met him in a club you went to when you tried to destress because of your exams. He immediately took a liking to you, at first you had guessed that he'd be around your age, so imagine your surprise when you found out that he was in his mid thirties.

He laughed when you told him about it, he was extremely outgoing, in fact, too outgoing and so much of an extrovert.

You both immediately clicked, enjoying each other's company and finally exchanged numbers. He had drunk too much and eventually overshared everything about how his wife passed away in childbirth, leaving him with a child who he is working hard to raise.

“I try my best to raise him, but it gets too tiring. You know, I had hired a nanny, but I wish I could just quit my job and spend more time with him.” He shares, “Where do you work?” You ask curiously, “Hightower Co.” and your eyes widen at that, “Isn't that a really difficult place to get into? Their employee selection rate is super low, and I heard their manager is quite picky.” you shrug and he chuckles, “Well I guess I am indeed picky sometimes.”

“what.”

You apologised immediately after feeling embarrassed, he had revealed that his grandfather owns the company and basically wants his family members to run and manage it, though it screams nepotism, most of the hightowers and their extended family are extremely good at their ages, there were only a few select non-family members that were able to make to a non-basic worker status.

Things ended awkwardly after that, but nonetheless, you both communicated with each other from time to time, he would send you cute pictures and videos of himself and his son doing random stuff, or just bonding which warmed your heart.

After a month of talking, you both decide to get into a relationship, you knew it was quick, but you couldn't help it when you got along so well, he would often bring his child on the dates with you, which you didn't mind, but rather had more fun cause this would allow you to go non-romantic dates which are rather comforting.

If there was one thing which you didn't expect of Aegon ; was his sexual appetite, which he had a lot of, you were surprised by how much stamina he has, and how he's willing to go more than 3 rounds at a time, it sometimes exhausted you because you'd be too overstimulated to even continue.

You still remember how he had fingered you whilst at the family dinner under the table while maintaining a conversation with his grandfather, you tried so hard to not make a noise. He eventually finished what he started in his bedroom.

His favourite thing to do is eat you out, he loves the expressions and noises you make and how messy it would be afterwards.

“Aegon— ahh— hmm pls–” You blabber out incoherent noises whilst you grip his hair, pushing his face further into your cunt which he takes in obediently, lapping his tongue up and down and suckling on your clit as if his life depended on it.

The whimpers and noises you let out only motivated him further to continue his ministrations, he dipped down further while his tongue pushes past the folds of your cunt before entering it, the angle caused his nose to be pressed into your clit, nudging against it while Aegon greedily ate you out.

He pushed his tongue in and out before he licked a long strip up to your clit and once again, latched himself onto it, you moaned when you felt his teeth slightly graze against it.

He sucked on your clit which caused you to peak while holding his face tightly against your cunt, your vision went white at the intensity of the orgasm and your body trembled as you calmed down.

Yet Aegon did not stop, you pulled his hair in an effort to pull away, but he grabbed your hand and held it away while he continued to devour you, you whimpered as the overstimulation hit you, trying to wriggle away from his face yet he still didn't budge and continued sucking, nibbling and biting your clit.

After all, he had no intentions of stopping until you were a mess.

[brerdi]

I can't write but I have a piece of an idea and I want to put it out there in case someone who can write sees it and runs with it.

Danny is de-aged and winds up in gotham, don't know how don't know why. But he was found by Red Hood and adopted after much trial and tribulation (and some biting, and 'damn are all little kids teeth that sharp'). They've been together for a while and Red Hood has been keeping him secret from the batfam. I imagine cause deep down he's worried that Bruce will try and take him away. Billionaire who has successfully adopted multiple children VS one criminal vigilante from crime Alley, he knows who would win that custody battle. And it all comes to a head one night when the emergency alarm that he had given Danny went off and he goes running back to the apartment to find the entire building on fire. He doesn't even slow down and swan dives through his window. Some of the bat fam are with him when they see him take off and jump through the window of a burning building but they can't follow him so they're running around the outside of this building trying to get him out. Red Hood finds Danny in the bathtub where he had gone after he hit the panic button, he was too afraid to leave via ghost powers because he didn't want Jason coming to find him and not being able to. So Red Hood wraps him up in a wet blanket and they're able to get out and land on the roof of the next building over. So now everybody is yelling at him for jumping into a burning building to retrieve whatever guns or explosives or whatever he had obviously gone to get. And Batman walks up and says "there was nothing in that building that was worth your life" right before Red Hood pulls the wet blanket off of Danny. So now the whole family is looking at this tiny sopping wet kid who looks up at Red Hood with tears in his eyes and calls him dad.

[goinggoingghone]

dp x dc au but danny is bruce's biological kid and he knows it. his parents straight up told him as soon as he was old enough to know, and he loves his adopted parents all the same.

of course, it was a bit rocky with all that ghost business, but eventually Jack and Maddie came around to their halfa son and liminal daughter. Danny just thought it was funny they took longer to accept he was alive and dead than accepting he was in a relationship with Sam and Tucker.

So there's some ghost conference in Gotham being held by the GIW in order to get more occultists/people interested in ghosts to work for them. The Fentons go there, as published ghost scientists, to expose the GIW and prevent people from buying into their beliefs.

But while they're out, one of the Bats mistakes Danny for a younger Bruce. Of course there are some differences, but the Bat (I'm thinking Tim, who's running on like -16 hours of sleep and several cups of coffee) is convinced he's a clone or something. So he takes a DNA sample and the results come out: he's Bruce's kid.

Bruce is devastated that he couldn't be there for one of his kids, and so he tries to get more info in order to possibly get custody back. Tucker, who accidentally found the network the Batcomputer used three weeks ago while looking for the GIW's, is immediately aware they're looking into Danny.

The Fentons have a collective moment of "oh for fuck's sake" and try to come up with a plan to get Bruce Wayne, who definitely is Batman at this point, to get off their case.

While on a walk to get his thoughts in order, Danny runs into Red Hood in Crime Alley. Both of them are immediately aware of the other for vastly different reasons. Jason, for "Batman wants to adopt this kid who already has a family" and Danny, for "oh shit this guy has a fucked up core what the hell is wrong with this guy" they have a Spiderman meme moment and Red Hood, always on the lookout for an opportunity to spite Bruce, offers his help. Danny accepts, with the caveat that he takes Jason to the Realms to figure out what the fuck is up with him.

Jason is extraordinarily confused but for some reason the Pit is really quiet around this guy and he feels safe around some dumb teenager so he's like "okay?? Sure??"

Danny takes him back to the hotel the Fentons are staying in and explains the situation a bit. Jack and Maddie hook up their temporary portal (blowing the electricity of the hotel in the meantime) and get Jason to the ghost doctor, Frostbite.

He gets diagnosed with "bro your ectoplasm is fucked up" disease and his ectoplasm is cleaned. He's like a diet halfa, with a few ghost powers but no ghost form. A liminal on steroids.

Anyway, Bruce sends a Batkid to the Fentons hotel (because of course he found it) in civilian garb to explain the situation. The Fentons Are Not Having It.

So, of course, with parents Bruce believes are mad scientists, he takes it upon himself to get that child out of a home of mad ghost hunters. By kidnapping him.

Danny's just pissed off because he finally got Vlad off his case and now he's here dealing with ANOTHER billionaire with a bat-themed super persona wanting to forcefully adopt him. The irony would be funny if it weren't so infuriating.

The Batkids are so happy to have a "new brother" in the house, even if said brother really doesn't want to be there. Jason just has no fucks left to give anymore and re-kidnaps Danny.

This of course sparks a game of Who Can Kidnap Danny and it's getting to the point where Danny just hates the BatFamily more and more because he was SUPPOSED to have a date with Sam and Tucker today and now he's holed up in the Batcave getting fitted for a vigilante costume by Nightwing. Alfred and Jason are the only sane people in the mansion.

So Danny "Bad Decisions" Fenton just says "fuck it" and goes ghost in private, leaving the manor and flying back to Amity. The convention has ended by this point, so they're all back home.

Cue BatFamily freaking out.

Eventually Bruce serves the Fentons legal papers (once he finds their address). The Fentons show up to court and verbally and respectfully ream Bruce for trying to re-adopt their son who they love so much. As the evidence of Bruce being wrong adds up, he realizes what he's done and feels like shit. Jason gives him a hearty "I told you so" for his efforts.

The Fentons live happily ever after, and Danny gets a cool secondary family that he doesn't really like until they all apologize.

Heheh. Just wait until they meet Dani, he thinks.

[cartermagazine]

Sandra Bland: Say Her Name

Sandra Annette Bland was a 28-year-old woman from Chicago, who was taken into custody by a state trooper in Prairie View, Texas, following a minor traffic violation on July 10, 2015. Many people consider Sandra’s traffic stop to be a textbook case of rampant racial profiling.

After authorities reviewed the dashcam footage, the white state trooper who arrested Sandra was placed on administrative leave for failing to follow proper traffic stop procedures. He was subsequently indicted for perjury for making false statements about the circumstances surrounding Sandra’s arrest, and he was fired. On July 13, 2015 just three days after being arrested, Sandra Bland was found hanged in her jail cell and her death was ruled a suicide.

Most of us today have suspicions about the alleged suicide.

Rest In Peace… Rest In Power.

CARTER™️ Magazine

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky

Word Count: 2366

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background/minor themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

1. Lemon Cream Tart (with Pistachio Streusel)

“Oh, baby, yes.”

Mary grunts, annoyed that this is still going on.

Her pleasure waned a while ago, nowhere close to orgasm, and she can’t seem to get it back when she’s being fucked this hard. She’s getting too dry now, just wants him to come and have it be over with. 

“Yeah,” she says breathily, canting her hips up against where the guy—Dennis, she thinks it is—is fucking into her. He’s going too fast, pulling out too far,and hardly connecting with her body at all before thrusting again. “Jackrabbit sex,” she calls it in her head.

“Shit, Ugh. M’gonna cum,” MaybeDennis grunts. 

It’s nice to finally hear him talk. He’s been virtually silent this entire time and Mary’s whined and squirmed and panted, wishing that the sex was better and that he’d just fucking say something to her—something low and quiet in her ear, something confident and knowing, maybe putting a hand on her neck at the same time as he—

“Fuck!” he shouts, close to her ear. His thrusts start to stutter, losing their rhythm as he gets close. Mary grips him harder, and moans loudly like she’s getting close too. It makes him come, and she tenses her body and matches his sounds of relief with some of her own. It’s performative and easy to fake, she doesn’t overdo it, and she sounds convincing.

MaybeDennis groans and collapses against her, resting his sweaty forehead on her shoulder for a moment before pulling out. He flops over onto his back, chuckling tiredly and removing the condom. Mary watches him get up from the bed and pad into the bathroom. He’s a good looking guy, with just a little too much fat in the midsection for her taste. But then, she knows she’s overly picky, especially considering the state of her own body.

Beyond the open bathroom door, the toilet flushes, and MaybeDennis peeks his head out from the bathroom. “Hey, you mind if I grab a shower before heading out?”

Mary resists the urge to grimace and smiles tightly instead. “Nope. Go ahead.” She’s just grateful he isn’t asking to spend the night. “Towels are in the closet.”

MaybeDennis smiles. “Thanks.”

After he leaves, Mary gets her vibrator out of the bedside drawer and shoves the extra pillow between her legs, arranging the toy so that it sits against her just so. She doesn’t think of MaybeDennis as she gets herself off. The orgasm feels good but leaves her feeling bereft afterwards. She scowls and wipes the tears from her eyes, feeling just a little pathetic.

Like most other nights, she gets up and goes to her apartment’s little kitchen, grabs the vodka from the freezer and pours herself a glass mixed with diet soda. She winces in relief as the first sip goes down. It’s eight o’clock now. She doesn’t have to be up for work until seven, so that leaves at least another six hours to get drunk and have a nice relaxing evening in. 

It’s her favorite part of the day.

Bucky’s just left the gym after a really intense workout and is feeling pleasantly worn out and relaxed when he decides to try the new coffee shop on a whim. He’s passed it by for months, and when he finally walks through the front doors he’s pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere. There’s a small dessert case next to the register, which he examines while he waits his turn in line. It’s filled with colorful, glossy, artful little pastries that look almost too pretty to eat—almost. He grins as he thinks about what Steve might want.

“Welcome to Angie’s, what can I get for you?”

The greeting sounds mechanical and anything but chipper, and Bucky’s attention shifts to the woman behind the register. He eyes her up and down, noticing both how pretty she is … and how worn down she looks. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun and her eyes look red-rimmed. They have faint circles under them. Bucky offers her a sympathetic wince. “Late night?”

She blinks at him, unamused. “Yeah, I guess. Do you know what you want?”

“These pastries all look so good,” he says, trying again for friendly. “What would you recommend?”

“Any of ‘em. They’re all good.”

“Are you sure?” he teases.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” she deadpans. “Since I make ‘em.”

Bucky looks back to her, impressed. “Yeah?” He regards her nametag, sees the little handwritten “Mary,” and thinks, aw, that’s cute. He reins in his reaction. Leaning against the counter, he praises, “Well you’re very talented. They all look like little works of art.” 

(They’re priced that way, too. $8.99 for a shiny little dome thing? Jesus.)

Mary blushes and smiles a little, not seeming to know what to say to that. But she leans towards Bucky too, receptive to his compliments. She’s not making eye contact, which automatically gets Bucky’s instincts perking up. Not that he has any intention of taking this anywhere. It’s just a little friendly banter, a woman reacting to him in a way that’s naturally satisfying for Bucky. “Thanks,” she says shyly.

“I’m still waiting on that recommendation, Mary,” he says, inserting a bit of flirtation into his tone. She makes eye contact at his use of her name, her lips parting just the barest bit and her pupils expanding. Bucky grins, leaning closer. “Hm?”

“Uh, the … the lemon tart is very good,” she says. “If you like lemon. Not too strong. I balance it out with cream and some pistachio streusel, and the meringue on top of course …”

Now that she’s closer and is talking more readily, Bucky catches the faintest whiff of alcohol coming off of her. He raises an eyebrow and looks at her more closely, noticing how there’s a sheen to her eyes, how she doesn’t look just tired, but unsteady; not just unkempt, but disheveled. He frowns. Is she … is she drunk? “Um,” he hedges, pulling back to stand straighter. “Are you okay, Mary?”

She looks surprised at the question. She glances down to her nametag, then back up at him. “I’m … fine,” she says. “Just tired.”

“You kinda smell like booze,” he whispers, not wanting anyone else to hear. He gives her a searching look. “Are you hung over?” Her eyes widen in alarm and Bucky frowns, concerned. “Are you drunk?”

 “I told you that I had a late night,” she hisses. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Bucky gives her a warning look for her tone, and the girl is immediately lowering her eyes. Hmm. Not many people are dominant or submissive the way that Bucky is. It’s considered disordered, so he doesn’t usually play around with testing people this way. But this girl has raised some of his telltale red flags, and he’s curious. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, Honey,” he says gently. Then, inserting a careful amount of authority into his voice and watching how she reacts, he says, “Now: I’d like an almond venti chai latté with stevia and cream, double-frothed, to-go. And why don’t you be a good girl and grab me two of those lemon tarts as well? They look too tempting to resist.” Her eyes flick up to his, some strange mixture of outrage and obedience in them, and Bucky feels like he knows, then. She looks the way a woman looks when you’ve just whispered something filthy in their ear. Bucky raises his eyebrow. “Did you get that, Mary?”

“... Yes,” she breathes, making something deeply innate in Bucky stir. She shakes herself out of her stupor and gets to work with a sharpie and venti-sized paper cup.

“Bucky,” he tells her, as he taps his card to the terminal to pay. “That’s the name you can write down.” Mary looks inordinately pleased at having been given his name (another clue). Bucky nods over to the other end of the counter. “I’ll be waiting over there.”

“Okay,” she says, once again back to not meeting his eyes. She seems embarrassed at having been found out for being drunk at work. Maybe she expects Bucky to scold her. He wishes he could. Instead he goes down to where he said he’d wait, and makes up his mind to ask her about whether she’s on the spectrum.

“Here you go,” she says as she hands over the cup several minutes later. “Bucky” is written in neat, sharp letters on the paper sleeve. She pushes a little white box across the counter at him too. “And the tarts.”

Bucky takes them without comment, eyeing her up and down instead. “Mary?” he says, because subs love hearing their names said aloud. Predictably, her eyes snap right up, alert and bright, like Bucky’s just dangled catnip in front of her nose. He offers her a kind look and delicately ventures, “Have you ever been assessed on the D/s spectrum, Honey?”

“What?”

“The D/s spectrum?” he repeats, keeping his voice low because he’s still not trying to upset her. He can see the moment that her brain clicks over in recognition, because her irises flare and her face slackens in shock. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky reassures gently. “I don’t mean any of this in a negative way. I just think you might be on the spectrum. I’m familiar with the signs. And if you’ve gone undiagnosed all this time … well that’d explain it if you’re struggling, you know.”

“I’m not … I’m not struggling,” she stammers.

Bucky gives her a look. “You don’t think so? When here you are, sleep deprived, drunk at work?” 

Embarrassment stains her cheeks within seconds. “How dare you? I am not.”

“Not drunk? Or not submissive?” 

She blushes even harder, jaw working. “I’m not,” she repeats stubbornly.

“Oh, Honey,” Bucky says, and he reaches for her hand before she can pull it back. He circles her wrist with his fingers, marveling at how tiny it is in his hand. He squeezes—and proceeds to watch her eyelids flutter like he’s touched someplace far more erogenous than her wrist. “I think you are,” he murmurs sadly. 

It takes her a minute, but she gets angry again and yanks her hand away, scowling at him. “You’re very rude,” she says. “You can’t just say stuff like that to people.”

“Can’t I?”

Her lip quivers. She pushes the box further across the counter at him. “Take your stuff and leave.”

“You don’t have to be so defensive,” Bucky says. “It’s okay. I’m diagnosed dominant, you know. I understand what it’s like.”

“What?”

He shrugs. “I’m just saying: I’m not going to judge you. I think you should probably get some help, though. It’s pretty progressive if you don’t address it.”

“You don’t even know me!” she hisses, then looks around the shop nervously when she realizes she’s gotten louder. Nobody seems to be paying attention to them, but she still looks back at Bucky with a furiously embarrassed expression. “You're wrong. I’m normal.”

Bucky knows that arguing with her isn’t going to get him anywhere. Instead, he slips the paper sleeve off of his coffee cup and plucks the sharpie from the edge of Mary’s apron. She gasps at the boldness of it and he shoots her a wink. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he says, as he jots down a number. He hands the sleeve back to her. “You can call that number any time, if you wind up needing help.”

“Oh my god, is this some sort of come-on?” She sneers. “Newsflash: I’m not interested in you.”

Bucky nods placidly while imagining putting her over his knee. “No, it’s not my number. It’s a hotline you can call. To talk about this stuff. It’s free and confidential, and it’s manned by people like you and me.”

She regards the cardboard sleeve like it might suddenly have more information written on it. “I don’t—”

“Here.” On a whim, he jots down his cell number as well, this time on the back of his receipt. He slides it over the counter at her but she doesn’t take it. “That’s my number,” he says. “If you want it.”

“I don’t need these. I’m not some friggin’—”

He cuts her off from whatever undoubtedly prejudiced thing she’s about to say. “I’ll be back to give a thorough review of the tarts,” he tells her, taking the box and his coffee cup and stepping away. He heads for the door, satisfied that he’s done the right thing by this woman, even if his dominance is still urging him to do more. “You should have a coffee, yourself,” he calls back over his shoulder. “Have two, even—Strong ones.”

“I hate coffee.”

He hears her scoffing at him as he goes out the door. She’s right, he thinks: he doesn’t know her. It was ballsy to talk to her the way that he did. To presume her situation from just a few reactions. He could’ve been wrong about her … 

Glancing back through the café’s window from outside, he sees her making a drink at the espresso machine. There are no other customers waiting in line. Bucky watches as she takes a sip from it, winces in distaste, and takes another sip anyway. She’s obeying his command. She took it as a command. Bucky smiles sadly from out on the sidewalk. He wasn’t wrong about her. Hopefully she’ll call the hotline, get started on the right path to fix whatever’s going wrong in her life. But even though Bucky’s a dom and thus a natural “fixer,” he can’t solve every sad case he comes across. Especially when the person doesn’t want to be helped. He’s done all he can do, and that’s going to have to be enough.

Shaking his head, he turns away and starts off for home, sipping at his—excellently made—latté, and feeling grateful that he got help when he needed it, back when he was young. He’s one of the lucky ones. 

He puts Mary the drunk barista from his mind, thinking instead about how he needs to get home to shower and change into something nice. He’s got a date with Steve, after all.

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[victoriadallonfan]

Okay, so we know why the Siberian looks like a woman. But, uh… do we know why she’s zebra striped?

When Shards create the limits and aesthetics of powers, they pull on a lot of different avenues of information: the host's memories and experiences, the data of the world they inhabit, and the Shards around them.

Things we know about William Manton:

He's going through a nasty divorce and custody case

He's an expert actor

He went behind everyone's back to win over his daughter with a near fatal plan

His Wife/Child Projection is animalistic in appearance, not just in stripes but in pupils, claws, and a desire to be cannibalisitc

A clone of his treated his projection as a replacement wife/servant/possible sex doll

My headcanon is that the Siberian represents his internal attitudes on women (hostile appearance, lack of clothing is preferred, maternal to young girls, cats often being tied to femininity), and his play-acting/speech of wanting to be "free" to Bitch is really a self-projection.

He was being fucked over (in his opinion) by the rules and laws of the land, and he might blame them for his actions in mutilating his daughter.

How much easier would things be if HE could just have acted on his impulses? What if anyone could?

Women in his life hurt him, intentionally and "unintentionally" like his daughter (but really his fault), so the OG Siberian is a literal sexy, Maneater.

His clone is the opposite end of the extreme: the servile, docile, wife who listens to her hubby (note this is still Manton play-acting a role he feels women are serving or should be serving).

In short: Doctor William "Misogyny" Manton

[alienssstufff]

JUANAFLIPPA CASE COURT HEARING (A very thorough) RECAP

APRIL 12, 4:00PM PST (2023) FAMILY COURT COURTROOM NO.2

JUDGE: Maximus (SapoPeta) PROSECUTION: SLIMECICLE (Charlie el Backflipo), Quackity (esp), Jaiden, Fit, BBH, Foolish DEFENSE: MARIANA, Roier JURY: Dapper, Leonardo777, Tilin, Trump, Bobby, Ramon

OBJECTIVE – To determine whether a crime was committed by the Defense, finalise Flippa’s custody amongst parties (divorce)  

Link to the full update timeline of the JuanaFlippa case can be found HERE

A/N: The following was recap was taken from Slimecicle’s (and a bit of Quackity and Philza’s) POV. This is 4 fucking pages long.  

PRE-TRIAL HIGHLIGHTS:

A small courthouse was built for the event - presumably during server maintenance.  

Mariana, Charlie and Quackity dressed up irl in suits for the stream! The couple + Jaiden’s minecraft skins appear in suits too! This isn’t relevant to the case but I respect the dedication :]  

Private conversation where Mariana asks Foolish to represent him in court. Foolish rejects :[

Initially Charlie had hired Roier to be one of the Prosecution’s representatives but had backed out last minute - choosing to instead take Mariana’s side on the Defense.  

Charlie had also requested to hire Philza to be one of the Prosecution’s representatives, to which Philza rejected the offer because of Charlie’s murder attempts on his son Chayanne.  

Individually, Charlie speaks to each of his lawyers in private. As of prior to the hearing, none of them are aware they are not the only lawyers representing the Prosecution.  

A few emotional words were held between Mariana and Charlie. Mariana via Twitter DMs sends Charlie a photo edit of them and JuanaFlippa together as a happy family. They cry together – it’s snotty and kinda gross ://

THE TRIAL:

SapoPeta opens the trial under court of law and representatives of both the Prosecution and Defense introduce themselves to the stand. It is here where all five of Charlie’s lawyers discover there is more than one representative (but it’s cool they play it off and agree to work together).

In defense of himself, Charlie argues that by everyone’s willingness alone to defend him should more than prove the strength of the Prosecution’s case. Quackity (esp) further reinforces Charlie’s first point and brings forth the opening statement outlining three objectives the Prosecution aims to achieve in the following hearing: 1 -To revive JuanaFlippa 2 -For Charlie to have complete custody over JuanaFlippa in the divorce 3 -To sacrifice Mariana to Satan  

As Charlie’s second lawyer, Jaiden drops probably one of the hardest statements in today’s hearing. It’s so sick I’m including the full transcription: “This case isn’t about winning custody. It isn’t about divorce, or even bringing back the life of a child. It is about Justice. Justice that was taken away from an innocent egg JuanaFlippa. JuanaFlippa’s childhood was born into a broken home, but that doesn’t mean she’s any less deserving of life.” “We’re here today standing before you Your Honour to write the Wrong that happened to a defenseless egg that simply wanted love. My client el Backflipo is a good parent. He cared and provided for JuanaFlippa, was always there for her, and at the end of the day Showed Up. All things the Defendant did not do. He knows the family isn’t in the best of situations, but he still did everything within his power to give JuanaFlippa what he could.” “In this case we will be revealing how the Defendant, el Mariana, was not present as a parent, not a good partner, was a bad influence on JuanaFlippa, consistently showed zero care for anything he subjected to her – and now is the ultimate cause for her untimely death.” “The facts in this case are straightforward and we are able to supply evidence and witnesses to stand to prove this point. I believe the Defendant, in a rage of not being able to escap el Backflipo’s custody papers, plotted to gain just enough of el Backflipo’s trust to be left alone with JuanaFlippa where he could then take her life.” “All el Backflipo wanted was to give JuanaFlippa the best childhood he could. He wants to right the wrong that was made in the hands of Mariana. For all those reasons and after you’ve heard all the evidence, at the end of this trial we ask you to return a verdict in favour of el Backflipo. That you find the defendant GUILTY of murder and to have his soul SACRIFICED in the resurrection of JuanaFlippa. Thank you.” (holy hell.)

Roier argues in good faith that Mariana is a good person (by shared history) and father who would never intentionally hit his daughter. The Defense pleads instead for manslaughter and that JuanaFlippa’s death was by a misclick.

Jaiden (sent by Charlie) brings new photo evidence to the stand in harm of Mariana’s image, bringing light to an affair between him and Foolish. Foolish is thrown under the fucking bus and is actively against the Prosecution (he is fired during recess). Principle of the item countering the Defense’s claims of Mariana being a good partner.  

Roier brings new photo evidence in harm of one of Charlie’s lawyer’s image of Tilin saying Quackity was also in an affair (???). Jaiden objects as the item is not relevant to the JuanaFlippa case. Objection accepted.  

Roier demonstrates the fragility of the egg beds - easily destroyable by a single click. He challenges the court to review the quality of egg beds in precedent of the murder. This statement is overruled by the Judge for irrelevance to the JuanaFlippa case, saying that such issue must be brought up in a different trial against the company providing the egg beds. The Judge however agrees that Mariana’s kill was an accident.

BBH from the Prosecution argues for the fragility of egg-kind, showing a reckless disregard from Mariana. Video evidence showing the night of the murder (footage wire-tapped by Charlie) is presented.

Roier argues against BBH bringing awareness to the species of the eggs being birthed from a power dragon (dragons are tough).

The Judge presents an audio file, a conversation between Mariana and JuanaFlippa. Due to technical difficulties in the Global Transcription, Quackity ‘translates’ saying “Daughter, I’m gonna be absent for a very long time therefore you need to start eating dirt so your defenses rise up and you don’t die as quick. Motherfucker.” Roier objects in defense that Mariana is a cc and was being a lil silly slash /j.

The Judge declares Recess as he comes up with a verdict.

Nothing much happens during recess other than a failed assassination on Charlie but it’s whatever ^_^!

Fucking Tik Tok edits were submitted as evidence as leverage to Mariana’s image in proof he is a good father to JuanaFlippa.

More photo evidence of Mariana’s and Foolish’s affair are brought to the court to counter this presented by the Judge. He objects himself for this has nothing to do with the murder, he just put it up there cuz it was funny.

Video evidence of the murder was brought up again. The Defense argues Mariana in fact destroyed a JuanaFlippa decoy - not the real JuanaFlippa. Theory debunked due to the current absence of JuanaFlippa today.

Charlie argues, on which will always transcribe (also hard as hell) the following: “And he (lil Satan) told me that he would burn my family to the ground if I told you this, but I don’t have a family left to burn. SATAN TOLD ME THAT IF I KILLED PHIL’S EGG, HE’D GIVE FLIPPA A GUN TO PROTECT HERSELF AND THIS IS THAT PHOTO RIGHT THERE OF BABY’S FIRST TOY, IN A CIRCLE OF FIRE AS WE MADE AN ACCIDENTAL PACT WITH THE DEVIL. AND HE SAID HE WOULD KILL MY DAUGHTER IF I DIDN’T DO AS HE SAYS. I’M SORRY BUT I WAS DOING WHAT A GOOD PARENT WOULD DO!” The Judge disregards the evidence as it is not relevant to JuanaFlippa’s murder. The murder of Chayanne (and Charlie’s homicidal tendencies) would be left for a different trial.

Fit in representation of the Prosecution brings four netherite ingots to the court as a bribe. It is revealed that the ‘netherite’ was forged.

FINAL VERDICT of today’s trial, in case of JuanaFlippa’s death, that she would be given another life. Both Mariana and Charlie would be sentenced to the QSMP Federal Prison for ~10 minutes. Request for divorce has been denied and parents of the Flippa family must work together in couples therapy.

POST TRIAL HIGHLIGHTS:

Mariana and Charlie are thrown in cages as people throw tomatoes at them. They sing together and do a duet of Careless Whisper on the harmonica/kazoo. Cute!

They escape underground just in time to see Flippa get resurrected. The family are reunited. Aww :,]!

Both Mariana and Charlie (WITHOUT KILLING her this time) tuck JuanaFlippa to bed and promise to work together on their relationship from now on. Yipee ^_^!

Both streams finish with Mariana and Charlie having minecraft sex. The end!

[edelfie]

#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! wannabe chart topper.

there is a certain sense of degradation and shame that comes with being a well-known industry figure not for what you create, but for how terrible you seem to be at it. no matter what genre or style it seems you just haven’t got the midas touch. your friends aren’t gonna let that stop you from doing the thing you love—no, not creating music, silly! publicly shaming your exes through song!

or, there is no better cure for heartache than money, revenge, and clout (in that order).

POST CREDITS! —

There's a heavy sigh that escapes Asahi's lips as he closes out from the group chat. Normally the mood isn't so...dour, and the seldom times it is it appears to be a product of his own doing. Yet to see you, especially, so downtrodden upset him. Asahi knows that everyone becomes sad for one reason or another, naturally, but the ever-confident Y/N L/N being insecure? Unfathomable, he declares.

From the day he met you, you have been a rock. Not just in his life, but also in his idealized version of you. Of everyone in the group, you had one of the bigger personalities—it was hard to know for sure if yours was the biggest when Tendou is being...Tendou. Regardless, you always carried yourself like you knew you could buy the entirety of Japan with your pocket change.

You couldn’t, of course—you didn’t even come close. But the unwavering confidence you held in that you could was admirable, if not slightly arrogant. In Asahi’s mind though, it took a certain type of person to be selfish, headstrong, self-centered. And to pull it off so well that he didn’t even hate them? He had to give flowers where they’re due.

And if you're none of those things, you're a damn good actor—and maybe that's part of your "star power" too. You had him fooled, and he's sure you'll fool the entire world too. So, with a bit of selfishness, he'll continue to remain by your side and push you into the limelight so he can bask in that aura once more. Even when he knows it isn't real.

You are a rock, the one which holds their entire rag-tag group together. You are the post in which the ship hauls their anchor upon. You are the jagged edges which cut through those who earn your ire, drawing blood. You are softened by the crashing tides which erode at your exterior. You really are special, and he can't imagine you being anyone else.

"Oi, are you still listening?"

Asahi snaps to attention. He had completely forgot he was on the phone with Yuu, so absorbed with his thoughts. The lack of sleep was also likely to blame as he teetered from left to right, eyes hovering open just a crack. Still, he makes a great effort to not look like he was totally spacing out.

"Ah, yeah I am! Sorry..."

"Right," Yuu drags the word on for a few seconds "Anyways, like I was saying..."

NOTES! —

Rise and shine (ursine)! Today is a new day, and I'm aiming to double post today, so be on the lookout for that! Ah, but don't hold me accountable if I don't either—I get out from my classes late today and commute in peak traffic, so the second chapter may be released wayyyy later today or not at all (until tomorrow that is wkwk). Anyways, today's fundraiser goes towards supporting Rachel Pikrel-Hawkins and her children in Colorado.

Rachel's ex husband, Michael Hawkins, is a retired police sergeant and convicted felon and sex offender for the continuous rape and sexual assault of his daughter and two adopted daughters. However, he is free from custody while Rachel is in jail for objecting to court-ordered reunification therapy between Michael and two of their sons. The case is beyond horrifying and revolting, and I recommend reading into it further in the description of the GoFundMe page. If you are able to assist Rachel in paying for attorneys to defend her and her children in court, please consider donating here and sharing their story with others.

If you’ve noticed, the “blind items” section looks different today! That’s because it’s supposed to be an in-universe bonus section for gossip and rumors, usually about what happened in the screenshots. However for this conversation, obviously nobody is telling any gossip pages about this, so I replaced it with “Post Credits”! Now whenever there are no blind items, this section will appear instead and will detail the inner thoughts, feelings, and opinions of the characters—or, just anything that didn't make the cut. These are all still canonical, but weren't included in the chapter for a platitude of reasons (conflicting pov, limited time, etc.) Please take these crumbs of writing as a sign of my gratitude for all you readers!

PREV + MASTERLIST + NEXT

© all rights reserved—edelfie (2024) // do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, or repost my work on other sites without permission

[thelampisaflashlight]

Some general ghoul thoughts, because I am feeling almost back to normal, and my brain is doing more than cooking itself. Let's go.

-Ghouls summoned outside of the ministry/by non-church affiliated individuals tend to be more chaotic and tend to become more... possessive.

They act more like true demons, and often do not have the same presence of mind that ghouls brought up by the church do. However, in rare cases, there have been one or two summonings that have succeeded.

Most of these successful summons wind up in the custody of the church in some capacity eventually, though some wind up forming their own packs or families and have no association with the church whatsoever.

-Imps, being lesser demons, have the power of mimicry, allowing them to pose as stronger entities in order to survive in the pit, however, if a certain form is maintained for too long, that begins to become their default, effectively meaning imps can undergo metamorphosis.

An imp posing as, say, a kit, in order to benefit from the care and safety of a ghoul pack may, under the right circumstances, grow into a real ghoul some day.

Oftentimes, the ghouls raising these pseudo kits are aware of the fact that they are imps in disguise, but continue to raise them as if they were, as imps and kits have similar needs and raising an imp to become a ghoul is another means of reproduction among ghouls that are either 1.) infertile, or 2.) do not wish to physically conceive a child.

Not all imps will become ghouls, but the more care and attention they are given, the higher the likelihood of them undergoing metamorphosis is.

More independent imps/imps that are considered "feral" will not become ghouls, although not all clingy imps will either.

And lastly;

-Ghouls can and will eat bugs and other creepy crawlies if given the opportunity to do so, even if other food is available.

They just kind of go for it, and no one is really sure why.

[suzukiblu]

An excerpt of morally-ambiguous-dad!Lex for @robotogato to hopefully enjoy, haha.

"Clones really don't get soulmarks, though," Kon says in frustration. "It doesn't even make sense that I'd have one."

"Well, I suppose there's the possibility that I just want you so badly that it happened anyway," Lex Luthor muses idly. "A Luthor doesn't generally accept being denied what they want."

"Very fucking funny," Kon mutters, shooting him a glower. "I'm being serious here, asshole."

"Hm," Lex Luthor observes, inspecting him neutrally. "Not even a moment where you let yourself want to believe that, was there."

"Why would I wanna believe that a bastard like you wanted me?" Kon sneers at him.

"Because I am the only person in the multiverse who would burn down reality for you without hesitation," Lex Luthor says like he's talking about the weather or something. Like he's just stating a totally inconsequential fact or reiterating something as obvious as the sky being blue.

Like there's no question there at all.

"I hope you fucking die and I hope it fucking hurts," Kon hisses as the whole world seems to bleed red, just about choking on his fury.

"Well, it will if you don't close your eyes," Lex Luthor says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Quickly, ideally."

"Wh–" Kon is almost stupid enough to ask, and then he realizes and immediately screws his eyes shut, snapping his hands up over his face just in case.

His eye sockets feel like they're on fire.

"Ah, I suppose I live another day," Lex Luthor says. "Rage and anger are notable triggers for the heat vision, if you're still unfamiliar. And apparently arousal as well, although I have very definitely never encountered that version so I can't say if it's more or less potent than rage."

"How do you even know about it, then?" Kon asks, hating that he can't trust himself to look at the bastard without killing him. Lex Luthor could be doing any stupid fucked-up thing right now and he'd have no fucking clue.

"I am a very intelligent person who can afford very good information," Lex Luthor says. "And I am also more intimately familiar with Kryptonian DNA than quite possibly anyone else on this planet, Superman included."

"Superman has Kryptonian DNA," Kon retorts dubiously.

"He does," Lex Luthor agrees. "His special little gift from dumb luck and blind chance. Some of us actually had to put in a bit of effort to get that kind of power, though."

"You don't have that kind of power," Kon says. "You have money and the fucking bullshit fear that you put into people."

"Ah, but I have you now," Lex Luthor counters mildly. "Now don't I."

"You don't," Kon snaps.

"Oh, give it sixteen years or so," Lex Luthor says, making a dismissive gesture as Kon's eyes finally stop burning long enough for him to risk a glare at him. "Your full powerset should be in by then, and I imagine I'll have had a bit of time to change your mind somewhere in there."

"I don't care what whatever custody law bullshit says about it, I'm not gonna stay with you," Kon says tightly. "Sure as shit not for the next sixteen years!"

"Oh?" Lex Luthor asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "Then where exactly are you intending to go long-term? Just planning to stay in a lab for the rest of your life?"

"Why the fuck not?" Kon says in exasperation.

Lex Luthor's eyes narrow.

"Oh," he says like a realization. "Someone's actually made you assume that you belong in a lab, haven't they."

"Yeah, I can't think of a single unrepentant bastard who might've had a hand in me belonging in one of those," Kon bites off darkly. "Real fucking mystery there, huh."

"Hm," Lex Luthor says.

[corn-fanfiction]

Saviour Complex (Pt 1)

Summary: you are a witness in the Jigsaw case, and Mark Hoffman has been assigned to protect you. Neither of you are pleased.

RATED: M

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Reader

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Mark Hoffman, acab, power imbalance, slight age difference, reader is so normal, foul language

Sighs. Groans. Morning coffee and crusty eyes. Day in, day out. Chasing his own shadow, winning awards. Mark Hoffman didn't start a narcissist but holy hell if it doesn't suit him.

This is a morning of mornings. The FBI is hot on Strahm’s trail that leads six feet underground. They've eased out from the local Jigsaw case. The only one with any real clue is Hoffman. And no one at the FBI wants to go near him.

And why would they? Their golden boy agent is the Jigsaw apprentice who went ballistic and killed his boss and his ex-partner. The only one to have walked away from this case is Hoffman. As far as they're concerned, he's jinxed, or worse.

So yeah, Hoffman's king of the fucking castle. Everyone either wants to shake his hand or hide in their closets. He doesn't really care which. On top of all that, his work as Jigsaw keeps him from getting bored at work. There's a monotony to being a hometown hero with no one to chase.

This morning, Hoffman makes it past the water cooler before Betty, the secretary pokes her head around the corner.

“Mark? Chief wants to see you.”

Mark finds himself genuinely surprised. For the most part, no one really communicates anything to him other than “go here” and “do this” and it's always in an email.

Mark grabs a water for the walk and enters the Chief's office without knocking. He's at his desk, white hair balding and frayed. He's a man on the verge of constant breakdown.

“Mark!”

He notices Hoffman and perks up, pressing some papers aside.

“Chief. Betty said you needed to see me.”

There's a chair available but Mark doesn't take it. Something about standing tall and composed over your boss who's on his last leg… It's like a drug.

Chief's face falls. “Yeah, uh, about that, Mark…”

Mark does his best to keep his composure but Chief is starting to piss him off.

“What is it, Chief?”

“Mark…I gotta pull you off the Jigsaw case.”

Mark had to fight to keep from crushing the styrofoam cup in his hand.

“I- what the hell for?”

“It doesn't come from me, Hoffman. It's the FBI.”

“Fucking hell-”

“They want you to cool off. Right now they're running ragged and paranoid. They think you might be a liability.”

“It was their fucking boy that went off the rails!”

Chief spreads his hands. “Mark, it's not me. And it's only temporary. Let them settle down and in a month’s time they'll be over it.”

Keep it cool. Keep it cool.

“So what'll it be in the meantime? Meter maid?”

Chief chuckles nervously.

“Security detail.”

“Secur- you're joking.”

“It's easy, Mark. Protective custody. Feds think she might be involved with the Jigsaw case somehow and she's local.” Chief leans over to whisper this next part, “This is my way of keeping you close to things. Understand?”

Mark nods thoughtfully. This could be good. If not good then at least not a hindrance. Whoever this girl is, he doesn't know about her. That can be useful.

“Fine. You got a case file for me?”

“Yeah, but I'd take it with you. She's waiting in your office.”

-

You've been waiting thirty minutes and you have half a mind to split. You've combed through his bookshelf at least twice now, even pulling a book or two to read the spine, get bored, and replace it.

It's the photos that interest you the most, though. He's accepting an award in one. One’s a newspaper clipping about how he saved a little girl from the Jigsaw killer. Everyone at the restaurant thought it was so vile that a child, a little girl, would end up in one of those death traps. And it was. But you were the only one who thought it didn't quite match up with what Jigsaw had previously done. Everyone knows at this point that Jigsaw only takes people who need to learn a lesson. What lesson could a nine-year-old have to learn from a reverse bear trap?

Another photo has the detective with a young woman. He's younger in the picture as well. They're in front of a river and he looks…happy. Not that you know the man, but just looking at the other photo…it's miles different. Parts are still the same: thick brown hair, strong face, broad shoulders. A handsome man to be sure, but looking at the photos…a devastated one, too.

You turn swiftly on your heels when you hear the office door open. The man himself enters with a cup in one hand and a file (your file, you assume) in the other.

You half expect him to do the stop-and-stare moment, but he spares you a single glance before closing the door, brushing past you, and sitting in the corner of his desk. He sips from his cup. Opens the file.

“You must be y/n.”

“I must be,” you say with a bite. His eyes actually widen at that and you sigh. “Sorry. That came out much bitchier than I intended. You must be Detective Hoffman.”

“I must be.”

“Huh. Cute,” you chuckle at his retort. And for a man who seems so composed, he shifts ever so slightly at your response. “So. Guess we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together.”

“Try not to sound too excited,” he quips, and your face sours; you make no attempt to hide it.

“Forgive me, but if you ask me, and no one did, this is a waste of time and resources.”

“Waste of time?” he flips open your case file and his eyes widen. “You saw the Jigsaw killer?”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“No, I didn’t.”

“That’s not what your witness statement says.”

“I said that I got a glimpse of them, and maybe not even that. Look, I was on my way home when I passed that packaging plant- the one you were in? I heard some weird sounds, saw someone, and reported it. Now I’m starting to wish I hadn’t said a fucking thing.”

He watches you. His eyes, which were something akin to mirthful, have now darkened.

“How much of him did you see?”

Jesus Christ, the man doesn’t get it.

“I. Didn’t. See him. I got his build. That’s it. And now, all of a sudden, I’m in protective custody weeks later. How does that make sense?”

Detective Hoffman places your folder on the desk beside him and goes around to sit in his seat.

“It makes plenty of sense. They’re worried Jigsaw might come after you.”

“That doesn’t make sense, either. Jigsaw only goes after fucked up people, and I hope to fucking god that I’ve never done anything that would land me in one of those traps. I don’t do anything. I’m a waitress. I don’t have friends, I don’t leave my apartment. I don’t do anything.”

He watches you carefully during your tirade. Your voice bridges on hysteria the more you talk and you tell yourself to reel it in. This guy is a smug bastard from what you can tell. The last thing you need is an excuse for him to write you off as crazy.

Unless that’ll get the cops off your back.

Finally, Hoffman sighs and sips his coffee. “Well, it isn’t up to either of us, is it?”

You huff and cross your arms. Your eyes drift to the newspaper clipping.

“Why’d you get benched?”

Hoffman stiffens a little. It would’ve been imperceptible if you weren’t clocking this man’s every move and facial twitch, dissecting every word.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been on the Jigsaw case for years. I looked you up. You saved that little girl after surviving a trap. So, why would they bench their star player?”

Once again, he is silent as he observes you. His stare is starting to weird you out.

“Like I said. Not up to me.”

Walls up. Files locked. No chance in hell you’re getting close enough to figure this one out, so you decide to let it go for now.

“Fine,” you sit in a chair. “So, what now? Are you my live-in bodyguard? You follow me to work?”

“I babysit, yeah.”

You scoff. “Real nice.”

“Like I said.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first five times. Fuck.”

You stand and pace the floor.

“This doesn't have to be painful. I'll just keep my distance and you'll do whatever it is you do. We don't even have to talk to each other. Deal?”

You chew on your lips. You think of your small apartment, you waitressing gig, your sleepy Sundays reading at home. You're gonna be pissed if you have to leave any of that behind. You seethe.

“Fine.”

[nat-space-obsessed]

For @kinglazrus !! Super excited abt this one! I love corpse aus so I just had to do this one.

AO3 Link

"There's a shallow grave in the woods. The only marker is a stone with the name "Danny" scratched into it. Judging by the fresh-turned soil, it hasn't been empty for long."

The call came in from a hiker early in the morning.

She'd been going on her daily hike when she decided to go on a route that was different from her normal route.

When she tripped over the rock, she should have known that there was something wrong. At first, she started to walk past, and continue on her hike.

It was on her way back that she really noticed the issue.

The rock she had tripped over had writing that she didn't notice the first time.

It was a simple engraving, probably done with another rock or a different sharp tool, definitely not professionally done.

There was one word.

A name.

'DANNY'

It was at that point that she realized that the dirt path seemed to be disturbed near the edges, as if someone had gone digging.

Oh god, someone had been digging .

As she looked at the disturbed dirt, she saw something odd. It was an odd color, looking as if it had been burned or melted, blackened.

It was a bone.

A charred, dirty, old bone, covered in a material that had melted and fused to it.

It was like one of those horror stories, of certain toys made from plastic materials melting onto skin if exposed to too much heat.

She called the police station the second she was in range of a cell tower.

All the operator at the call center heard was, "God, the bones , they're black, they're burned. There's bones in the woods ."

The CSI left the station immediately.

.

..

...

"She wasn't kidding, these bones were definitely burned, but they're weird. It's more reminiscent of electrical burns. What could output enough power to burn a body so thoroughly by electrocution?" The lead CSI said. She was wearing gloves and slowly unburying the body.

The more they uncovered, the more horrified they were.

"This is a kid," A member of the team said, "Either a kid or a small person. The size of the bones indicate that the owner of this body was under 5 ft. Maybe a small kid? What name did the stone say?"

"Danny, I think, it's a little hard to read, but that looks like the right name."

"Wait, wasn't there a kid that went missing a year ago from Amity named Danny?"

"Yeah, but I thought the parents were under suspicion, with that weird lab in their basement."

"Didn't the sister call it in?" The one handling the bones said.

The case they were talking about was the case of Daniel Fenton. He had gone missing four weeks before his freshman year, except he was only reported missing when his sister came back from a college summer camp. Two weeks after he supposedly went missing.

Because of this, nobody actually figured out when he went missing. The police had searched the entire Fenton home, which had uncovered the lab in the basement of the home.

The Fentons had a portal. An interdimensional portal to some place they called the Ghost Zone, and it had corresponded with sightings of weird, translucent, flying people that had been sighted in the city.

They had been taken into custody, but then later released due to a lack of evidence. His sister was still advocating for missing children, especially kids who weren't reported until long after they vanished.

"But this body is too decomposed for only a few months. Maybe the burns accelerated it?"

"I mean, if this is the Fenton kid-"

"Don't start being a conspiracy theorist now, Sean." The lead investigator said, shaking her head.

"You never know!"

.

..

...

The coroner's office was cold. The autopsy room was colder.

The body on the table was small, a kid, wearing a plastic material that had seemed to fuse with the bones it was covering.

The bones, God the bones. They were blackened, covered in a dark material, flesh that had been burnt to a blackened crisp.

The coroner looked at the body in front of him and sighed.

The only thing he could easily use for identification that wasn't fingerprints or DNA were dental records. Luckily, while the corpse was completely desecrated, the bones were somehow intact.

He was able to take a scan of the teeth and send them off to be compared with all local dentist offices within a 50 mile radius.

It was a few minutes later when he got the ping.

There's a match.

"Shit."

.

..

...

The Fentons were in their lab when they got a phone call.

"Hello, this is Jack Fenton of Fentonworks, how can I help you?" The burly man said into the receiver.

"Hello, Mr. Fenton. This is the Briggersdale Police Department, calling you to inform you that a few days ago, we found a body in the woods. This body has been identified as the body of your son, Daniel." The voice on the other end said to him.

"What?" Jack stood with the phone in hand in shock. Maddie chose that moment to walk into the room.

"Are you okay, Jack?"

Jack thanked the officer and hung up. "They... found a body."

"A body? Why did they contact you? Where was this?"

"The next town over. The body was identified. It was Danny's."

A sharp intake of breath could be heard from Maddie. "We need to call Jazz."

"She isn't speaking to us, she'd just ignore anything we have to say to her."

"She'll listen, it's about Danny."

.

..

...

Jazz Fenton had been having a good day. She had only one class that morning, her favorite introduction to developmental psychology course, and she had just finished speaking with her roommate about their date next weekend with their longtime girlfriend. She was happy for them. She was having a good time, reading one of her favorite books at her desk.

It was a good day, until she got the phone call.

It was from her parents.

She refused the call at first. This was the third time that week her parents had tried to contact her, and the third time she refused their call.

Usually they stopped trying to call her, and just left her a few texts after she refused their call, but this time was different.

She should have known something was wrong.

"What is it? I thought I told you guys to never contact me again." Jazz spoke before either of her parents could even get one word out.

"Jazz... They found it."

"What, what did they find?" Jazz stood up. She was really getting annoyed now, with them being all cryptic towards her.

"His body. Jazz, they found Danny's body."

Jazz's phone slipped out of her hands.

What?

They found his body. They found his body.

Oh god, he was actually dead.

Jazz knew after the first few days she realized her brother was missing that the chances of finding him again were slim to none, and after the first two weeks, she knew that she would probably sooner see a body bag than see her brother alive again.

But this? This made it real.

He was dead.

He was gone .

She was never going to see him again.

Oh god, this was real .

She stared in front of her. She stared at the wall.

Her knees gave out and she slumped to the ground.

She could feel her eyes well up with tears.

She could hear her roommate shouting her name and kneeling in front of her as she sobbed, crying and trying to say anything, but no words would come out of her mouth.

Oh god, she had to tell Sam and Tucker.

No way would her parents even know that he had them as his friends, and they were always the first people that she gave updates to, even before her parents. They deserved to know he was... dead. That they had found his body.

.

..

...

Sam and Tucker were hanging out at Tucker's house when Sam's phone rang.

She picked it up, recognizing the number as Jazz's.

Tucker watched as emotions crossed her face, beginning with worry, and ending in dread.

"Oh my god. Tucker. They found it."

“Shit.” He said.

“Shit.” She nodded in agreement.

[levia-chan]

YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL pt.3

Hello everyone I decided to share with you some headcanons about what kind of guardian angels the Obey Me characters would be for you. So read and enjoy (I'm sorry if it's a little OOC)

Preface: They have been your guardians since you were born.

Warnings: contains spoilers for S1 and S4 og.

Others: MASTERLIST

Credits: The banner image in this post belongs to @diodellet

SIMEON

He, like Michael, was fascinated by your soul, so he took you under his care. He is proud that he did it before others.

He has also been by your side since you were born. He found you incredibly sweet. When you were little, he used to sing lullabies to you and create different images out of magic while no one was looking.

When you're sad, he stands next to you and hugs you tenderly. Even if he can't be physically near you, his touch calms you down, which undoubtedly pleases him.

He doesn't like it when you get into trouble, but he finds some situations funny.

He didn't expect to meet you in hell. He's worried about your safety, so expect to double your custody. Expect custody to triple after Belphegor's attack.

Gradually, he began to realize that he was falling in love with you. He knew it was wrong. You're a human being and you're also his ward. But he couldn't help himself.

He didn't regret anything when he stole the Ring of Light from Michael and gave it to you. That's how he saved you and Lucifer.

Although no, he still regretted some things. After this prank, he lost his grace and his powers. He became a man, just like you. He couldn't protect you the way he used to.

Because of this, Michael became your temporary guardian. Simeon is not very happy about this, but he understands that this is the best case scenario.

And even though he has become a man, he has an angelic essence, so he feels if something has happened to you.

He could tell right away that something was wrong with you, but he doesn't want to force you to talk about it. He would just be there and try to make you as comfortable as possible with him. He'll wait until you're ready to tell him everything.

This angel is amazing, and he will do anything to keep you happy and safe. He loves you and will be your guardian until the very end.