#they put him in HUMAN JAIL

[9spoons9]

Detective Pikachu screenshot redraw.

[carrotkicks]

Fugitives arc - Abridged vrs.

(part of the sends them to school au)

hehe so guess what! I took my insanity to new heights and I actually tried to write (horrifying) do tell me how it goes for you

It took exactly 9 seconds to find the extra bandages. Dr. Mori was always reliable about keeping medical supplies ready on hand but Dazai counted anyway. It’s a habit she’s grown over the years. Her eyepatch had gotten rather grimy after a long day on the run, and the bacteria that may have collected could give her another infection, so she might as well change it, right? 

Right! That’s a good start. Redoing her bandages is an excellent next step in her plan to somehow get herself and Chuuya out of this debacle. 

Speaking of, Chuuya was currently in the bedroom, trying to find something to wear that was left lying around in this safe house. Dazai had helped her take a bath earlier, and it took a lot of effort on her part to not freak out. Not that Chuuya noticed, of course. Chuuya might have a second special ability to be completely oblivious to some things. Like when someone’s putting the moves on her, or when she’s in pain. It’s as though she entirely lacks self-preservation. Does she have a death wish or something? Oh wait –

Dazai freezes that horribly ironic train of thought to remind herself she’s in a bathroom surrounded by puddles of Chuuya’s blood and tattered clothes. After the bandages, I’ll clean this mess. That’s a good next, next step.

Chuuya had gotten injured, somehow. A deep gash on the back of her neck, like a creature sunk its claws in her and pulled something out. Dazai frowned at the thought as she pulled her patch off. Chuuya hasn’t said a word about why they were hiding but after the events of the past few days, Dazai’s overactive mind was starting to paint a bleak picture. 

Chuuya wasn’t at school for the past few days. On the third day of her absence, her literature teacher pulled her aside with a packet of coursework in hand. 

“I know you’re close to Nakahara-chan. Perhaps you can deliver her the materials she’s missed this past week so she doesn’t fall too far behind. And check in on her too, okay?” 

Of course, Dazai readily agreed. Their Sensei has always shown exasperation towards Chuuya’s poor attendance habits, but today there was a strange tightness in her smile that made Dazai’s stomach settle uncomfortably. 

Kunikida decided to join her to deliver the notes – “Not that I don’t think you’re capable of it on your own. I’m putting up with you because it’s a dangerous location, and I would like to see how Nakahara-san is doing” he declared. Naturally, Dazai had cheerfully wrapped an arm around his waist and accepted his chivalrous offer. Kunikida may give the pretenses of aloofness but he worries too much for the act to hold any weight. That’s how Dazai managed to figure out what happened after that disastrous mistake on her part last Friday. 

Kunikida and Yosano both agreed to this story: Chuuya looked very pale when they entered the club room. She claimed she was ill and decided to leave after minutes in. That’s where it ended, frustratingly enough. At yesterday’s Detectives Club meeting, Ranpo mentioned to her briefly “I don’t think things look very good at home for Chuuya-kun.” Dazai nodded. 

I figured as much too.

That’s why when she and Kunikida stepped up to a ratty-looking apartment unit in a ratty-looking apartment complex in the Suribachi neighborhood on the outskirts of Yokohama, she had Hirotsu in a van full of Mafia guards parked two blocks away. Her security detail was also following close by but she’s not supposed to know about them, so if anyone asks, what security detail? 

“This is the right place?” Kunikida asked, looking back at the surroundings. The area didn’t seem safe, at least for a couple of kids wearing uniforms for one of the most prestigious private academies in Yokohama. Even if those kids were ability users. 

“It’s the address Sensei gave me,” Dazai responded in a relaxed fashion. She gazed back to where Kunikida was looking. An armored truck hidden under the shade of a tree. 

“Supposedly there’s a military base nearby,” she rationalized. Kunikida only nodded uneasily. 

Dazai grinned and began ruffling through her bag for the handouts. “Hey, if Chuuya answers the door, she won’t be in her school uniform.” 

“Hm.” Kunikida stepped forward and knocked. Three times. 

“I bet she has an awful fashion sense. She seems like the type, right?”

“Anything Nakahara-san chooses for her style will be an improvement to your bandages, Dazai-chan.” 

“Tch. Rude.” 

The door opened. The timer starts.

Standing there was a tall man wearing a lab coat and a gentle smile. “Hello. Can I help you?” He has glasses and graying hair. He’s keeping his hands in his pockets, one of which seems to be holding something. 6 seconds. 

Kunikida must have picked up that Dazai wasn’t willing to talk, and took over. “Hello sir, is this the residence of Nakahara Chuuya-san?” 

“Yes, I’m her father. She’s not well right now, so I’m afraid you can’t see her.” 18 seconds. From what Dazai could see there wasn’t any furniture other than a sofa, coffee table, and coat rack. Chuuya’s signature boots weren’t by the entrance. 

“That’s… alright. We just came to deliver some of the notes and homework she’s missed. We’re classmates.” The blinds in the apartment were drawn, and there was something in the shadow that Dazai couldn’t make out clearly. 23 seconds. 

Chuuya’s “father” accepted the offered papers swiftly without a second glance. “I’ll see that she gets these. Anything else?” 31 seconds. A glint of metal, that looked the shape of – 

“Nope, that’s it! We’ll take our leave then. Please tell Chuuya we hope she feels better for us, sir” Dazai cut in. She nudged Kunikida’s foot  Come on, time to go.

Kunikida gave a courteous bow. “Thank you for your time, Nakahara-san.” 

At that, a strange smirk crossed over the man’s face, as if he heard the world’s most ironic joke. “Of course.” He made eye contact with Dazai for a moment and she really hoped she was giving him a polite smile because her eyes felt far too wide to be anything other than manic. Then the door slammed shut. 

The entire encounter lasted 42 seconds, and Dazai already figured out more than she wanted to. “Chuuya wasn’t there. That man wasn’t her father” She tells Kunikida when they’re far enough away from the building. Her friend gave her a sharp look, but it wasn’t an "I don’t believe you". It helped the tightness in her throat clear a little. 

“How do you figure?” 

Dazai furrowed her brow, “That apartment isn’t lived in at all. None of Chuuya’s possessions were to be found. And…” She halted. Kunikida stopped beside her. “Inside I saw a glimpse of a rifle, a military-grade one. There was definitely an armed soldier hiding in the back, and likely the rest of their squad too.” Soldiers, a military base, a man in a lab coat, and a missing ability user. A terrible combination.

Kunikida muttered what was absolutely not a curse. “We need to find Nakahara quickly.” He says, not wasting a moment to pull out his phone to dial who she thinks is Ranpo. 

Dazai nods, already feeling more confident. But Yokohama’s a big city, how are they supposed to find one tiny person like – 

*** 

“Dazai. Dazaiiiiiiii! Are you- oh!” Chuuya rushed out about as quickly as she entered. Dazai had scrambled to throw her hands up to hide her uncovered eye. She exhaled heavily as she tried to suppress the irritation that flared up in her chest. That was terrible timing on her part, and she should have accounted for Chuuya being her spontaneous self. 

“Seriously, Chibi? Didn’t anyone teach you to knock first?” 

“Sorry. I didn’t expect you to be indecent.” Dazai isn’t naked, just bandage-less right now. Oh, Chuuya’s trying to be funny.

“Humor isn’t your thing Slug-chan. Hhh, tell me. Did you see it?” Dazai doesn’t know why she’s feeling so self-conscious. Her eye healed a long time ago, even if seeing out of it is still quite blurry, it looks perfectly fine. But in the year since the … injury … Dazai has only been able to bear looking at her own unobstructed reflection for only a few minutes at a time. The only other person who could be comparable was the Good Doctor himself. 

There’s a silence behind the door. Then, Chuuya says, “I saw you, Dazai.”

Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that, and it seems like Chuuya may have realized because there’s a hesitant turn of the door handle. Dazai puts her hand over the right side of her face for good measure. 

The door creaks open and the redhead shuffles in. Literally shuffles, Dazai realized, those clothes were huge on her, practically swallowing her frame. The sleeves of the collared shirt she found were rolled up to her elbows and the black slacks she was wearing must have been cuffed 3(?) times. They must be Dr. Mori’s, a little voice in Dazai’s head supplied. She looks cute in them, an unhelpful one adds. She looked cuter covered in blood, to be honest, another, more unhelpful, eviler voice continued. Hold on, has Dazai ever seen Chuuya wear long pants before?

Whatever. It didn’t matter because obviously, Dazai laughed out loud at the sight. Maybe overcompensated even, she really needed this chance to tease Chuuya. Any chance she’ll get. For her part, Chuuya must have anticipated this reaction because she just huffs out in annoyance and drags herself closer. When her giggles died down, she realized that Chuuya had grabbed her hand and was looking directly into her eyes, and a self-satisfied grin settled on her face.

Ah, Dazai’s mouth felt dry again, so she lowers her head. Chuuya took that as a cue to start talking. “It’s only fair, Dazai. You got to see all of me, so I deserve some leverage on you too.” 

Leverage? Oh… Dazai thinks she gets it. Chuuya’s at Dazai’s mercy right now. Dazai’s father owns this safe house, Dazai’s people are guarding the perimeter, and Dazai’s the one who can treat her injuries. Chuuya’s asking for some control over the situation. She’s asking for trust in return. Dazai can handle that. 

She looks up, but Chuuya’s already turned her head away, cheeks a faint red. She detaches her hand but Dazai grabs it before it can retreat further. 

“Hey.” Dazai brings Chuuya’s hand close to her face. Chuuya meets here eyes. She seems confused. “A while ago I got into an accident.”

“An accident?” If Chuuya doubts her, she wouldn’t show it. 

“Yeah. It really messed up the right side of my face. It used to look really bad so I always bandaged it. It became a habit.” 

Dazai hesitated on the next part. “And when I see myself without the patches, I get reminded how human I look.” 

Chuuya’s gaze was unreadable now. 

Shit. Don’t say more. Dazai found herself stuck explaining, “And it makes me a fraud because I’m not a human. Not inside. Not where it matters” Stop oversharing! She can feel her heartbeat going faster “Ahh ~ that part’s not really a big deal, though. How’s my face, Chuuya-kun? Is it cute?” 

“What the hell are you saying, Dazai?” When she’s upset Chuuya’s voice goes down an octave from her usual high throaty pitch. It seems that’s the case here. Dazai stayed transfixed to the anger brewing in her eyes, and didn’t noticed that Chuuya’s hands landed themselves on either side of her face, cupping it gentler than her expression would have let on. 

“Don’t you ever say that to my face again! You're not human? That’s complete bullshit.” Who taught Chuuya how to curse, anyway?

“Chuuya I-”

“Shut up. Don’t you understand, Dazai?” She really doesn’t understand. Chuuya’s expression melts into something Dazai can’t recognize. Her thumb strokes her right cheek and then Dazai is being pulled closer to the Earth. At some point her eyes close. Some muddled thought about trust floats around her head. 

“You’re the most human person I’ll ever meet.”

Something soft and warm. Right under her eye. Dazai snaps back into awareness as Chuuya pulls away, red-faced, like a shrimp. A shrimpy color on a shrimpy person. Or the color of crab. Dazai loves crab. Dazai loves- Chuuya squirmed under her gaze. Oh, right. How much time did she just lose?

“You took me by surprise last Friday,” Chuuya confesses, looking away in embarrassment. “And then I got scared, because I felt so good in that one moment with you, and then I had to go back… Home.” She shuddered. “And I’ve been trying change, you know? Because I didn’t feel alive until I met you, and then suddenly I wanted to feel alive for you.” 

Dazai didn’t know how to respond, so she wrapped her hand around the back of Chuuya’s neck, carefully over thick patch of gauze that protected her injury. Chuuya looked breathless. “And then last week, I realized that my freedom had run out, so I took a chance and escaped. And now we’re here. And it’s all your fault Dazai. I did it because of you.”

There’s something dark and stormy in Chuuya’s eyes. 

“And that stupid goddamned kiss. It was fucking incredible .” 

Dazai closed the distance between them again. And again. And again. And again and again and again and again and again andagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagain –

*** 

So their night went peacefully after that. Dazai never ended up rewrapping her eye, just for the sake of savoring that adorable flustered look on Chuuya’s face. Cleaning the bathroom was a more irritating chore. Dazai had nudged the pile that was Chuuya’s blood-soaked uniform and a random set of green and yellow gardening gloves she somehow acquired. (“Hey you sure you didn’t go and murder anyone, Slug?” she had taunted. Chuuya ominously didn’t answer.) Dr Mori had kept a huge stock of spicy instant noodles in the pantry and the two of them held a contest to see who could handle the spice better. It ended in a tie because Dazai refused to admit she had a runny nose and tears in her eyes. 

And now they were in bed, in each other's arms. Dazai hugged her… girlfriend? partner? … closer. Chuuya was so warm. Like a human furnace. Dazai could happily die right now. Until Chuuya spoke up. 

“Dazai, why did you tell me I would look cute in a cage right before you kissed me. ” Death needs to arrive a little faster. Dazai is a little spent from the embarrassing and soulbearing conversations earlier. 

“It. It was a dog joke Chuuya. Because you’re my doggy.”

“Likely story. You just want me to have no freedom under you instead.” Dazai pointedly didn’t wrap herself around Chuuya more, to prove her self restraint and respect for Chuuya’s autonomy.

“Please drop it. You don’t understand my prodigal mind.”

“Hmm. How about never?” 

A comfortable silence settled over them again. Chuuya pushed herself deeper into Dazai’s hold. She was wearing a pair of oven mits that she found in the kitchen, and Dazai didn’t bother to ask why. What did matter was that this moment never ended.

“Dazai.” Chuuya started. “I’m…”

“Hm?” Dazai shifted her position so she could see Chuuya’s expression. It was horribly vulnerable. 

“I… don’t think I’ll be sleeping tonight.” 

The unspoken words rang clearly in Dazai’s mind. She smiled and ran her hand through the short red hair. There was a light shining in Chuuya’s eyes. If they were going to pull an all-nighter, then Dazai better start counting.

“Yeah. Me too, Chuuya” 

***

Dazai woke up to the barrel of an assault rifle pressed to her temple and a tall man in a white lab coat holding Chuuya in his arms.

[unspecifiedfigure]

more bat!eddie (now serving time in sock jail)

[packet-of-staples]

FALLEN IDOL WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! THE BROTHERS ARE FIGHTING!!!

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

if i were a superhero i would kill some villains and reform the others

"how would you know which is which?" "why do you get to decide who lives and dies?"

some of them get up to some very interesting hijinks. some of them murder people for fun. it's not that hard

"oh but once you cross that line it's a slippery slope"

no i don't think it's that hard to only kill mass murderers and let everyone else just go to jail

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine first meeting ex-husband Gojo on a clear spring day at Tsuruoka City Jail.

The year was 2001. Young Satoru found himself on a train with his retainer making an extended trip many prefectures away. His retainer flipped through a folder.

"Someone's been exorcising curses in Yamagata prefecture. Must've caused a large ruckus for the local law enforcement to get to them first," they said.

Gojo was expecting someone older and/or rougher. Instead he was met with a beat up looking girl around his age in a dark holding cell. While his retainer went off to speak with an officer, Gojo peered at you and said, "Wow. You look like crap."

He doesn't need the six-eyes to easily dodge the shoe you huck his way. "Why don't you come in here and say that, you Inuyasha wannabe??" you shout.

Gojo touches his hair. "This is my natural hair color," he insists.

"Oh." You nod. "That's pretty cool." You walk up close to the bars and sit down. Gojo follows suit.

"I'm Satoru. What's your name?"

~

Imagine young Gojo being absolutely baffled at the verdict from the Higher-Ups that you're slated to be executed.

"She didn't do anything wrong! Isn't exorcising curses what we're supposed to do?" Gojo asked his retainer.

"The girl is a liability to jujutsu society, Satoru," his retainer explained patiently. "She consumes cursed energy from others. It's dangerous."

"So we should just have her be on our side," Gojo responds, only for his retainer to chuckle and pat him on the head.

It's at this young age that Satoru learns just how much leverage he has in society. When he puts his foot down and demands that the "Nure-onna" be spared and placed into the Gojo Clan's care to be his sparring partner, the demand is somehow granted. There's no way she could get close enough to someone with the six-eyes to drink his cursed energy, so he's the optimal partner for her.

~

Imagine young Gojo being fascinated by you.

"You're crazy for dragging me around with you," you tell him.

The two of you are in a field on the Gojo Clan grounds.

"You want me to let them execute you?" he asks, stretching out his legs.

"I could drain you of your cursed energy right here, right now."

"Do it, then. I wanna see. Just don't drink it all," he says. Gojo sits cross-legged in the grass and waits.

You eye him warily, wondering if there's servants waiting in the trees to jump on you for attacking their precious heir. Deciding that you'd just hold him hostage if they did, you kneel beside him and produce your water jug. He stops you when you make your first hand gesture.

"Hang on, explain it to me while you do it," he insists. You roll your eyes but oblige.

"Okay, well, I need at least about a liter of water." You gesture and the liquid flows out of the jug to form long water snakes that wrap around Gojo and squeeze.

"Do you hold everyone this loose?" he asks half-playfully.

You click your tongue at him and tighten his bonds until he lets out a soft grunt. "And then, I just..." You awkwardly tilt your head this way and that. "Normally I bite the neck, but I don't know if your clan would like that."

"Does it hurt?"

"I dunno."

"Will it leave a mark?"

"I dunno, Gojo, I've never tried it on a human!"

Gojo nods resolutely. "Fine. Bite my neck. I trust you."

You gape at the statement until he says, "Hurry up!" and you lean in and bite down where his neck and shoulder meet. You drink maybe a tablespoon's worth of cursed energy before pulling back and letting the snakes fall away. It does, in fact, leave a mark.

"So? What'd that do?" Gojo asks.

"I have more cursed energy for myself now."

"Show me."

You lift your hands with a flourish and all the water - from the dew on the grass to the nearby pond to the excess in the air - gathers and forms one giant writhing snake that slithers through the grass and settles around the two of you. Gojo watches the beast in wonder, eyes gleaming. He tears his eyes away to look at you.

"Pretty cool," he says.

"Yeah. Pretty cool."

~

Thank you so much for reading!

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[ckret2]

One of my favourite things about the book of Bill has to be how hard it has cemented that, for all the airs Bill likes to put on, he's actually awful at manipulating people. Like if you look at the just the show, on the surface his record isn't bad. 2 1/2 successful manipulations out of 3 shown on-screen is solid. ((That is until you examine it further and realize that the 2 successful ones were done to 12 year old children who 1. Weren't exactly in the best states of mind at the time due to severe sleep deprivation/a difficult emotional state and 2. he still had to trick via his power (the fake timer on the laptop/possessing blendin so Mabel didn't know it was him)) But now? Oh man! Ford wasn't just lucky, he joined a tradition dating back all the way to humanities beginnings! Bill has been trying to get people to do his bidding literally since people had gotten good enough at resource-gathering and tool-usage to be able to potentially build his portal! And he failed over and over and over again and he never learned shit! That would be bad enough but not only did he fail at manipulating several civilzations worth of people, they ALSO constantly thwarted him in ways beyond that! He got himself banished, trapped, and annoyed to hell and back and thats just the stuff he told us! Thats not even speaking of his latest and possibly greatest fumble, failing the convince us, the reader of the Book of Bill who is canonically a fan of Bill or at least Gravity Falls into striking a deal with him. In short, if I asked Bill to manipulate a child into eating ice cream with just his words I wouldn't trust him to get it done within my or the kids life time.

Except, Bill IS good at manipulating people. You JUST DESCRIBED several examples of him being good at manipulating people.

Identifying the most vulnerable targets, the "weakest link" most likely to cave and do what you want—like children (or elderly people with dementia, or immigrants who don't understand the language well)—is part of being good at manipulation.

Identifying and taking advantage of people in a compromised mental state when they're not thinking clearly and are more likely to do what you want is part of being good at manipulation. (He didn't try to persuade Mabel to destroy the laptop, BECAUSE HE KNEW DIPPER WAS MORE VULNERABLE. He didn't approach Dipper or Ford dressed as Blendin—BECAUSE HE KNEW MABEL WAS MORE VULNERABLE.)

Just straight up lying to people—about a situation (the timer), about a person (Blendin)—is a manipulation tactic.

Fabricating a totally artificial emergency and pressuring a target to ACT NOW to prevent disaster is a common con artist trick. (See: scammers who cold call strangers, say they're from the IRS and the stranger is behind on taxes, and demand they transfer a large amount of money from their bank RIGHT NOW or go to jail—WHICH ACTUALLY WORKS A LOT, especially because people CAN'T THINK AS CLEARLY when they're panicking.)

Disguising yourself as somebody trustworthy or somebody intimidating to trick a target into obeying you is also a common con artist trick.

Not to mention ALL the work we see into how he manipulates Ford: he makes note of Ford's social isolation and how Bill can use that to his advantage; he identifies the thing Ford wants most (respect & acknowledgment for his intellectual achievements) and weaves that into his manipulation; he uses both Ford's ego AND Ford's insecurity against him; he almost effortlessly turns Ford against the one friend who adores him, making Ford think his friend's kindest attempts to help are evidence of backstabbing; and even though ultimately it didn't work, you can't say that threatening to destroy Ford's life from inside his own body was a BAD manipulation tactic.

Plus the entire muse schtick. Fooling people into thinking you're doing something magical or supernatural is such a common manipulation tactic that there's a whole name for it: "mystical manipulation." Bill does this NON STOP with Ford, and with many of his other victims.

We see him successfully talk an entire tribe into helping him build a working redwood portal—and they only turned against him when the portal started petrifying people, unleashing monsters, and creating bottomless pits. He talked the Aztecs into sacrificing 9,000 people to build a portal that didn't even work. He talked not-Disney into making a cartoon about Bill that included UNLEASHING LIVE BEES IN THE THEATER. Who the hell would think that's a good idea!

And to top it all off, he formed multiple successful cults that were ride or die for him until the bitter end. That's like the crown jewel of being good at manipulating. Bill talked a whole town into joining his cult in under a month in spite of the fact that he kept calling them plasma bags and chugging formaldehyde. Based on the dates in the document about Silas Birchtree, people were marrying into Ciphertology at least five years after Bill's puppet disintegrated and he ditched them.

Bill was good at manipulating people!

Do you know what Bill WASN'T good at? Getting people to finish and open a portal.

Largely because portals are difficult to make, and because he can only get so far into the process before it becomes obvious that this thing will destroy the world and that's usually enough to override any other threats or promises he makes.

Yeah, he says some stupid things that should obviously give him away—like talking about setting off all the nukes. He's kinda pathetic and a bit of a dumbass sometimes. But, here's the thing about successful manipulators, con artists, and cult leaders: MOST of them are kinda pathetic dumbasses. Cult leaders are idiots. There's a cult leader who preached his followers should be on minimal vegetarian diets, had his chauffeur take him out to a big fancy steak dinner, then told his chauffeur he did that to test his faith—and the chauffeur was like well okay. Cult leaders are idiots, AND YET SUCCEED. When Bill says you can get anyone to hum along with your tune if you've got charisma? He's right—that's true in real life.

Manipulators get away with manipulation not because they tell such brilliant impeccable lies that the most clear-headed rational person in the world would believe them... but because they know to tell their lies to people who aren't clear-headed and rational, and because they know using cheap tricks and false identities and lies that the victim WANTS to be true works better than a flawless story, and because they know most people tend to give other people the benefit of the doubt that what they're saying is probably true.

So yeah, he's too cocky, he's a bit pathetic, he lost a lot, he loses at the end of the book... but that doesn't mean he's a bad manipulator. It means that being good at manipulating can only carry you so far, and Bill didn't have what it takes to carry him the rest of the way.

[bogleech]

Dunno if you know but there is a Yo-kai watch event in ff14 right now.

Oh my god.......they're alive. And HE'S there.

Do final fantasy players know what his deal is. Do they know he's a desperately lonely and always slightly horny middle aged alcoholic trapped in the body of an off-putting dog. Do they know how happy he'd have to be to be isekai'd into Final Fantasy and captured by a bunnygirl adventurer.

Do they know he's so hilariously unpleasant that humans see him as possibly just a normal dog and he still got put in human jail for making women uncomfortable

These aren't complaints, this is the funniest fucking character a collectible monster franchise has ever had. if you play this final fantasy please give him as good a home as you feel he deserves

one time he bought booze for a child but really I think that one's on the bar for selling sake to what they thought was a dog

[dcxdpdabbles]

I’ve been rereading you Royal Consort au and haven’t stopped thinking about it. I just know social media during that entire au was fucking insane

Dash Baxter opened his phone one school morning in his senior year after oversleeping for an hour—he may have worked out a little too hard, or he really did have a cold, like his mother claims—and was overwhelmed with messages from his friends.

They all say the same thing.

Have you seen this!?

Is it true?!

I can't believe this is happening!

Will we go to jail? I can't go to jail!

He scrolls through them with heavy confusion until, eventually, he clicks on the link Kwan sent him since the mention of jail seemed like a higher level of importance than whatever new gossip was going about.

Someone was likely pregnant. That was always what Pauline gossip the most about.

His best friend tended to catastrophize, so he figured it was better to help him calm down first.

The link takes him to a news clip showing a crowd of people surrounding a very familiar house. It wasn't the first time the Fentons had been on the news, but they were usually covered by local stations, and it was generally due to the damage the inventors had caused.

Dash knew they were only talked about when things were slow and a fluff story needed to be thrown in. Oh, back in freshman year, when ghosts first appeared, the Fentons were much more important, but now ghosts are a part of everyday life, and sometimes Dash forgot other cities didn't have the same issue.

Nothing the Fentons did was noteworthy, especially to have the Lois Lane covering their story. Yet, here in the palm of his hands, on the morning of a regular school day, he watched as Lois Lane did just that.

"Reporting live from Amity Park outside the residence of the Royal Consort to the Infinite Realms, I'm Lois Lane. Only a few minutes ago, the Justice League members- Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman- had entered the building hoping to speak to the Consort on a diplomatic mission. The tension between humans and the Realms has been at an all-time high since the Anti-Ecto Acts were passed. Although they were overturned in the last United Nations session, there has still been no comment from King Phantom and no guarantee that a war is not on the horizon." The woman says, holding her mic close to her face while the cameraman pans over the crowd of people outside of Fenton Works.

Dash feels like someone dumped iced water on him and then slapped him with a rubber fish. He is scared, confused, and a little offended. Still, the video continues as Ms. Lane explains the Realms, the political backlash the USA put the rest of the world in, and a brief overview of the humans' chances of winning if a war did break out (not high).

She then admits that their team had gotten a tip, claiming that the Consort has been married to King Phantom for the last three years, and despite not publicly announcing his title, he had all the power of his status.

He.

There were only two "he"s in the Fenton household and Dash knew for a fact Mr. Fenton would never cheat on his wife. Which left only one.

Oh gods.

As Ms.Lane speaks, the door to the house opens behind her, and the three high heroes of Earth outstep.

Along with Danny Fenton, who is squished between Wonder Woman and Superman with a flabbergasted expression, the crowd goes wild as Ms. Lane loudly shouts, "The Royal Consort, Daniel Fenton, husband to King Phantom, is being escorted by some of the most important members of the Justice League to a secondary location for peace negotiations. There is hope for humanity yet."

The clip ends with a close-up of Fenton's wide-eyed stare, which shows him looking terrified—the same expression he used whenever Dash cornered him to vent some of his frustrations.

Dash is left sitting in utter silence and rapidly growing horror. He had been mocking a royal, physically harming a royal, and, worst of all, he had been attacking Danny Phantom's husband, the same being who had been his personal hero for the last three years.

"I'm going to jail." He whispers "I'm so going to jail. Or I'm going to be executed. That happens to people who almost start wars right? Oh, gods."

The rest of the A-listers are panicking all over the city but not nearly as Dash Baxter, who was wondering how much time Fenton would give him for a head start.

It didn't help that Wes messaged Everyone on the basketball team with a gif of a dancing cat wearing sunglasses and the words "I TOLD YOU" in bright, bold colors.

He had repeatedly told them to leave Fenton alone. If they didn't, Phantom would retaliate, but no one had taken his word for it since the boy had originally claimed Phantom and Fenton were the same person.

Dash put his phone down and stared at the wall of his room. He liked that wall. It was covered in posters, pictures of his friends, memories of his best games, and now, with the floating shelves, his teddy bear collections.

He would likely never see it again.

"Oh gods"

[mecub]

It is past 1am and I am thinking about @somerandomdudelmao’s Marble Sky, and this lightly bonked my writers block on the head for long enough that I wrote a little thing.

The world is green. Green, bleeding from the lights and from his insides and from the space where—

—

Ward wakes up shaking, crumpled on the floor like an old paper someone couldn’t be bothered to throw away. 

The world. Is green. Green and pretty, green with plants and vines, but for a moment something inside of him screams like something’s clamped over his mouth and his blood is burning and—

But it’s not green like that. Here, the green isn’t the immediate threat. The threat is one of them, bigger than him and probably put there to make sure he doesn’t try to escape.

“Oh. You aren’t dead,” the alien says.

That’s… not reassuring. But also not the threat he’d been expecting?

“Are you by any chance one of the talking ones?”

Something is wrong. Everything is blurry, and when he goes to rub his eyes, he finds gauze and okay, that. That is going to be a problem for later. Once he’s safe. Once he can let panic overwhelm him without the lack of attention putting him at risk of—

“I am,” he says.

“Cool. So they found another civilization to destroy. Hungry?”

Them. Like this alien, this alien who looks so much like them, doesn’t trust them. 

It’s ridiculous, but at this point? Ward just wishes he could’ve just been thrown in a normal prison cell. Just one normal, reasonable thing that made sense would’ve been nice. And yet, he’s sitting in vegetable prison with someone who might be an ally but is also probably very much not anyone Ward can trust. How does someone even end up in vegetable prison?

“What’s with all these greens?” he asks, because he can’t just demand answers. “Are you in jail for being the only vegetarian here or something?”

Good ole sarcasm. A great way to be eaten by aliens! Hey, maybe they consider humans a vegetable.

“You’re radiating negative energy at me.”

No shit. “Wanna guess why?”

“Hey, I’m not with those— Wait!”

Uh oh.

“You said greens! You know what color is?”

Um?

“You must have eyes!” And then the alien moves towards him, without a second thought, like they know anything he does, running away or fighting or yelling for help, won’t do anything. Ward flinches away from their outstretched hand. 

(An outstretched hand, moving towards his neck, slicing him open like the specimen he was. An outstretched hand, with his blood on it, and he couldn’t move couldn’t fight it couldn’t—)

“Yes. So?” he snaps.

“Can I touch you?”

“Wh— No.” No.

“Please,” the alien says, “I won’t hurt you. I swear.”

Ward… could try saying no again. He could try to move away, try to talk about this, try to save himself from whatever’s going to happen. He wants to, he really wants to.

But. Sculptor didn’t listen, didn’t care, he just cut into him with a smile. And this one is larger than him, and they said they wouldn’t hurt him, they swore it, they asked for a favor, they look desperate, so maybe, maybe he’ll be safe. Maybe this will keep the alien from dropping whatever this act of an ally is.

The world is green, and Ward reaches out a hand and says, “Here. Happy?”

And the alien reaches out a hand and— 

And lightly touches his. Gently. 

—

The world is green. And in the middle of it is someone who looks a lot like him.

[sinswithpleasure]

To-Do List: Cream & Coffee

—------—

Thank @friskyriskywhisky for this fic. Without him, I'd never write Minju.

Kinks: Public Sex, Magical Mischief, Blasphemy (really, this fic is that).

—------—

Sometimes, you forget Minju is an angel. 

She’s an angel, of course, but she’s also an angel, in every sense of the word. As in, “be not afraid” angel, as in miracles type, heaven-born angel. She embodies purity, compassion, kindness, and all that is holy and good with… well, almost every action she takes. 

Of course, you’d questioned it before: “Almost? Aren’t angels perfect?” It’s a valid question, and Minju corrects you every time you mention it: “Not perfect—blameless. Also, the rules have relaxed a bit! That’s why I’m always around you humans!”

If your next question is about what exactly Minju isn’t good and holy about, she’s had an answer for that too, with a wink and a smile: “Everyone says I’m mischievous, so it’ll only be a while before you’ll find out~.”

And find out you have—thoroughly, even. Minju seems to orbit around you a lot, and you’ve been roped into her schemes one too many times, much of which bring far too much risk for you. However, there’s no denying the satisfaction those schemes bring though—Minju makes sure you benefit too, whenever she decides to pull one of her tricks. Win-win scenarios are her bread and butter, she says, with a little swish of her hand and soft glow from her eyes, because “a few heavenly miracles don’t hurt anyone”. Far too many times she’s used it to get both you and her out of trouble, and you swear she’s way too mischievous and curious for anyone’s own good. It’s this mischief of hers that leads you to constantly remind yourself that she’s celestial, even if she doesn’t carry herself like one.

As you sip your coffee, Minju’s fork clatters against her plate, and she leans back with her signature smirk. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’s acting up again. 

“Yah, Minsik.” Minju calls for you. “I—”

“No, whatever it is, no.” You’re quick to shut her down. “I’m not about to do whatever it is you’ve thought up.”

“I didn’t even say what it was!” Minju’s pouting now, arms crossed over her letterman jacket, looking every bit like a petulant child. “You’re no fun.”

“That’s because every scheme you put me up to involves us doing something that could get us jailed.” 

“But I always get us out, don’t I?” Minju sulks, but it morphs into a grin quickly after. “And you can’t lie to me about how good I always make you feel when I make you try anything I think up.”

The memories instantly come flowing back—Minju on your bed, Minju on her knees, Minju on your lap, Minju bent over a desk, Minju against the wall. In some of these memories, Minju is naked, and in the others, she’s clothed in varying degrees. With these thoughts in your head, your body betrays your mind—your cock begins to harden in your pants, and you shift your legs to attempt to hide your bulge, even if Minju doesn’t have it in line of sight. 

“Yeah, I can’t, but what happened to ‘just having a normal afternoon drinking coffee and eating cakes’, Minju? We can’t even have that anymore?” 

“Oh, shut up, you.” Minju’s mischievous grin only grows bigger. “You can’t lie to me, you’re getting horny just remembering what we’ve done.”

“No I’m not.” You lean back in your chair, coffee in hand, taking a sip through the straw. Even if the effort is futile, you’d do it anyway just to spite Minju. 

Minju rises from her chair, and she slowly sashays around the table. You take advantage of this moment to ogle her thighs in her jeans—her body is nothing but perfect. She bends down right in front of you, her grin now stretching from ear to ear as she notes your reactions.

“Liar. You know I can tell when humans lie.” 

Minju leans in close to whisper her proposition.

“I think we should have some fun, Minsik.”

You sigh in resignation, then take the bait. “What kind of fun, Minju?”

“Well…” The angel stands back up and winks. “I’ve never had sex in a cafe before.” 

With a wave of her wrist, white light glows from her eyes, and the world around you ripples, as if it were water. You take a moment to enjoy the visual effects on the world around you. In that time, Minju closes the distance—she straddles you and plants herself on your lap, your bulge pressing right against her body. 

“Liar.” Minju repeats, smirking. “You said you weren’t horny.” She crosses her arms as she grabs the hem of her white tee, and you watch in barely restrained lust as the angel on your lap peels her shirt off her. As the cloth rises above her head, her petite, yet perfect breasts greet your eyes as she drops her shirt on the table behind her. Once again, no bra—the angel despises underwear, having “not needed any of it for the entire time I’ve been an angel”, something which you definitely have no complaints about. Minju rests her arms over your shoulder, and she grinds down on your bulge as she softly groans in pleasure. You join her in vocalizing your pleasure, all pretenses dropped, and you hold the angel steady by her hips as you grind into her too.

“It’s great to be an angel.” Minju sighs softly and bites her lip down on a particularly hard grind. “I can just cloak anytime and enjoy having sex, and no one would know.”

“You’re so corrupted, Minju.” You shift your hands up to caress the angel’s body, and she whines in pleasure when you cup one of her breasts in your palm, soft kneads and squeezes of her flesh drawing more sounds of pleasure from her. The angel only laughs, and she denies it with a wave of her wrist. “Heh, no I’m not. I just do what I enjoy doing, and no one’s going to stop me. Not the old man next to us with his newspaper, not the lady to your left working on her financial reports, not the baristas behind me, and most of all,” Minju’s pointer finger pushes against your chest as she taps you three times, “Definitely not you.” 

The angel is right—you’re not stopping her at all. Even as the old man to your right shakes his paper to get a better grip on it, even as the businesswoman to your left takes a glance in your direction, you’re not protesting at all when Minju’s hand trails down to undo your pants and zipper. You’re still fondling Minju’s bare breasts, and the angel leans in to push her lips against yours. No one can see you—the angel’s magic ensures that. She only lets the people see what she wants them to see, and right now, she wants them to see nothing at all. 

“Mm, so hard for me, that’s good.” Minju has her hand over your bulge now, having shifted down to your lap, and she only gives you a cursory few rubs before she withdraws her hand, to your disappointment. That doesn’t last long though—the angel begins to undo your pants, and she pulls your hard, twitching shaft out from underneath your zipper. She wraps her hand around it, soft slow strokes along your length drawing soft groans from your lips, groans that she silences with a hot kiss. Her tongue meets yours in the middle, and you pull her tighter against you, eager to feel her body against yours. However, Minju pulls herself back now, her weight leaving your lap as she gets off you. 

“Minju—”

“Shhh…” The angel giggles at the look of desperate need all over your face. “Give me just a second~.”

It happens in an instant—Minju is on your left one moment, and then in a blink of an eye, she’s on your right. The only difference between both of them is this: the Minju on your left seconds ago had her jeans still on, and the Minju on your right has them off. The angel is naked right next to you, her thighs glistening with her arousal as she straddles you again. It is at this point you notice that you’re naked too, your clothes and hers in a neatly folded pile on her chair. 

“This is cheating, Minju.”

“And who’s keeping score, Minsik?” Minju stands over you, her lips softly brushing against yours in a ghost of a kiss. “This little miracle doesn’t hurt anyone, does it? Especially if it gets us closer to having sex.” The angel lifts her legs one by one to fold them up over either of yours, almost as if to kneel right in your lap, her ankles supporting her weight with your help. Her knees are in the air next to both of your thighs. You instinctively grab Minju by the hips and ass while she balances herself, and she grins when she grabs your cock to brush it right against her labia, the moan torn from your lips exactly what she wants to hear.

“Mm, I love this part.” Minju exhales in stutters, the hot breath brushing against your lips. “The part where I drip all over the cock I’m about to fuck.”

And drip all over it she does. Minju coats your cock with a sheen of her slick, her hand helping to spread it all over with soft strokes once more. She takes a glance to see how aroused both you and her are, and the angel only giggles at your dazed expression of lust, pleasure, and anticipation when she looks back up. 

“Oh my God, Minju…”

“Hey, not in vain.” The angel jokingly chastises, as she always does. “I’ll smite you.”

“Do your worst,” is your challenge.

“That I will.” Minju lines you up with her hole, and in one stroke, she slams herself down on your cock. You moan out loud as Minju takes you to the hilt instantly. A loud whine of pleasure accompanies your moans as well, before Minju shakily breathes, “Just. Like. That.”

Just like that, she says. Just like that, you’re having sex with Minju, again, on her whim. The angel “smites” you over and over with her hips, engulfing your cock in her velvety, warm, tight cunt with every time she impales herself on your shaft. She takes to sex like a fish to water—you have no idea how, no idea why, and neither do you care or have ever cared. What you do care about right now is how she bounces herself on your cock, every stroke reaching deep into her as she fucks herself down on your length. Neither of you hide your moans as the world carries on around you—the cafe’s patrons are none the wiser about the sexual activities just inches away from them. This knowledge excites both Minju and you— as she fucks herself down on you hard, the almost-crazed joy displayed in her eyes from having such wanton public sex is mirrored in yours as well. Minju is a godsend—figuratively and literally—that has you able to do things you’ve only dreamed of in your wild fantasies, and you’re going to enjoy it for as long as you can.

“You’re hitting me right there every time, Minsik~!” Minju’s G-spot rubs against your shaft with every stroke of hers, and you thrust up in time with her as well. Your loud, vulgar exclamations of pleasure mix with Minju’s own, and the claps of her flesh against yours as well as the wet sounds of her pussy milking your cock only leave you both more and more aroused.

“Oh, fuck, Minju, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck!” The angel’s cunt massages your shaft, as if trying its best to coax your cum out of you as soon as possible. Her pussy is incredibly tight, and the pleasure you derive from it has you close to orgasm already. Minju is no better—she’s softly muttering about how close she is right next to your ear, her pussy drenching your cock and balls in her arousal, walls getting tighter and tighter as she gets close to her peak. 

“Fuck, Minsik, make me cum, make me cum together with you, make me cum all over your cock—”

From experience, you know Minju’s a talker, and her words only push you to thrust up into her harder, deeper, faster as you chase your high with her. The girl on your lap fucks herself on your cock in time with your thrusts, and both of you wrap your arms around each other however you can, pulling each other tight against the other as you hit your combined peaks simultaneously. 

“Oh, Minju, I—”

“Minsik~!”

Neither of you bother holding back your moans as you orgasm together. Minju’s hips buck against your faltering thrusts, her juices flowing down all over your lap as jets of squirt drench your lower half. Even as your hips stutter, you keep fucking into Minju as well as you can—burst after burst of thick white cum shoots deep into the angel’s tight cunt, and with every thrust, you push your load deeper and deeper into her, prolonging the pleasure both of you enjoy. The carnal pleasure seems to last forever, and both of you hold each other tightly as waves after waves of it wash over your bodies. Both of you make a mess where you sit—Minju’s juices mix with your overflowing load on the chair and the floor beneath you, and the air smells of sex. You hug the angel in your embrace as your highs subside, and she pushes herself off you urgently, though the smile on her face promises she means no offense.

“Don’t get mushy on me, fucker.”

“Shut up.” You help Minju off you, and your cock twitches when you fully exit her—thick drops of cum fall from her freshly fucked hole onto your shaft, and you can’t help but groan when you see it. 

“Already wanting a round two, Minsik? We can make it happen.” Minju giggles as she reaches a hand beneath to collect your flowing excess, then raises it to lick it all off. “You always taste so nice.”

“Oh my God, shut up, Minju…” You chuckle to yourself, the corrupted angel joining you as she grabs her clothes. With a wave of her wrist, both you and her are clothed, the mess beneath you cleaned up, and you’re both right back where you started—a normal afternoon drinking coffee and eating cakes.

“This was fun, Minsik.” Minju’s eyes flash with mischief once more. “I wonder where we can do it next…”

[kiss-theggoat]

Gonna need a part two where the slashers realize their s/o is alive >:’(

Slashers Fix You Up

Slashers Included: Thomas Hewitt, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Asa Emory, Michael Meyers, The Sinclair Brothers

TW: Violence and Gore

Thomas Hewitt:

The wound to your stomach was deep. It tore through deep tissue and muscle, but lucky for you, Thomas knew exactly what to do.

Not only had he been stabbed like that, but he’d become really good at sewing and stitching up human skin.

You woke up, feeling groggy, but immediately recognized the basement you were in. You laid on Tommy’s workbench, shirt off and torso numb.

When you looked down you saw Thomas hunched over you, huge hands trying hard to delicately sew you up, fingers covered in your blood.

You whispered to him, and you could’ve sworn you saw his heart skipped a beat. He jumped up, immediately grabbing the side of your face with relief written all over his face, eyes wide and breath heavy. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he lost you.

Billy Loomis:

Nothing when like it was supposed to that night. Sydney got away, Stu stabbed him too hard, and the worst of all…he stood above you, watching your blood pool on the hardwood of Stu’s living room.

He bent down, putting pressure on your wound while looking around the room, taking deep breaths and trying to think rationally…he needed to get you out of here. He quickly lifted you, trying to ignore your pained groans. He hated seeing you like this.

The moment he got your arm around his shoulders and your feet on the ground, he heard them…sirens. He was conflicted. Relief washed over him. He knew you’d be getting help soon but…if he didn’t run…Syd would tell them everything. He’d go to jail, be found guilty for murder.

In that moment, he didn’t care. He helped you limp towards the front door, pushing it open. You’d lost too much blood…you didn’t even realize that Billy was sacrificing himself to save your life.

Stu Macher:

Stu watched his entire world fall apart when Billy stabbed you. He watched you fall, holding your gushing stomach, blood seeping from between your fingers.

He rushed to your side, hands covering your wound as he laid you back onto the ground.

“Just look at me. Don’t worry, keep looking at me.” He refused to let you look at your wound. He didn’t want you to be scared about how hurt you were. He lifted your hands to inspect your wound…he sighed in relief.

“It’s okay baby…the bleeding is slowing down…you’re gonna be okay…”

Asa Emory:

Asa never expected you to fall into one of his traps. He was beating himself up about it, but there was no time. He lifted you onto his operating table, covering your entire body with gauze.

He started slow, sutures and thread in his precise hands. You were covered in deep wounds, caused by rusty nails…he whispered his apologies, holding one hand as he poured antiseptic over you. It burned, it was unbearable…but you trusted him.

He carefully sewed each wound with a single suture, making sure to reassure you and stop the bleeding whenever it happened. It took him hours, but nothing would stop him from fixing you. Fixing your skin, fixing his love.

Michael Meyers:

For the first time in his entire life, he felt guilt. He felt a storm of emotions, but as he stared at your knife wound- the one his dumbass caused…- he knew it wouldn’t kill you. He’d never felt so terrible and so relieved in his life.

He quickly scooped you up, carrying you into the bathroom with shaking fingers. His hands had never shaken before…

He slammed open your medicine cabinet, hard enough to crack the glass, and popped open the first aid kit, sending gauze and band-aids onto the bathroom floor. You’d patched him up plenty of times so it should be easy…right?

Six butterfly bandages, four bandaids, and two complete rolls of gauze later, you felt like you might be suffocated by the first-aid supplies but…he’d tried his best. And, you weren’t bleeding anymore.

Sinclair Brothers:

The blow to the face had broken your eyebrow and sliced your skin, and the fall to the floor left you with a concussion and a sprained wrist. Vincent carried you downstairs gently, knowing he had the supplies to fix you up in his workshop.

All three brothers stayed by your side, and you were never alone over the course of the next week, especially while you were sleeping, until your concussion headache finally went away.

Your face was bruised and swollen and it hurt like nothing else you’d experienced, especially the cut on your eyebrow.

But, every morning when you walked downstairs, you received a kiss on the eyebrow from each Sinclair brother, and they all treated you like you were made of porcelain, even Bo.

[jyoongim]

Hello!

I would to request if its alright.

Prisoner Human Alastor x Police!Reader.

Alastor were captured by police and was sent to jail and Reader was a professional police also she is virgin because shes too focus on her job even when she was in colloge she never experienced it.

Sorry im bad at explaining but like they fucked in alastor cell in middle of the night because Reader was assign to watch Alastor since hes the biggest criminal in the town.

So llike i dont know how reader ended up in his cell ummm you can just make a reason for it since i dont know how she also inside his cell and getting fuck

So like Reader Hate love when alastor fuck out of her brain for the first time and Instead of Escaping from the jail Alastor just Find a Toy to play with.

This been on my mind pleaseeee im on my knees just for this😭😭

THIS IS MY BIRTHDAY GIFT TO YALL

WHOOP WHOOP THATS THE SOUND OF THE POLICE!!!!

It’s giving Mrs.Officer by lil Wayne hahahaha 

themes: 18+! NSFW, fem!reader, human!alastor (criminal of the LAW), so many laws and regulations broken, flirty banter? Jail cell sex, slight dub con, manipulation, subjugation, Loss of virginity, handcuffs, black mail, humiliation, gun play, mention of murders,  toxic relationship?

Five years ago

“Alastor DuPont, you are charged with the Bayou Murders! You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law…” you snarled at the man, as you slapped your handcuffs on his wrists, hoisting him up from the ground and forcing him to the cop car.

A strained laughed escaped his throat as he glanced over his shoulder at you, white teeth showing “never would have thought you would turn on me doll hehe. How unpredictable…I like that in my women ya know?”The lanky man grinned as you slammed the door, his breath fogging up the window. His deep brown eyes were wild as he maintained a calm composure. You narrowed your eyes at him “remember that it was me who put your ass behind bars”

His eyelids dropped, his crazed smile almost splitting his face “oooh doll I’ll never forget you”

Present Day

The prison was in an uproar when the higher ups found out who they’ll be housing.

Alastor DuPont.

New Orleans Most Beloved Radio Host…was a serial killer.

And you were the unfortunate soul who was his guard.

You looked over the paperwork of your new charge, brows furrowing as you read the arrest and charges.

Disgusting scrum! You thought with a sigh, setting down the papers on your desk.

”Why is he being transferred to my floor? Ain’t that conflict of interest?” You asked the Warden, an older man in his sixties.

You were the officer who had worked the Bayou Murders case, the officer who caught Louisiana's notorious killer and arrested him. 

You were just a rookie back then, fresh out of college and putting your all into your work. You were always at the office working late and gathering evidence. Your coworkers often joked that you had no sense of fun, always refusing to go out with them for dinners or parties. You were obvious to romantic advances and often threatened to write a report for misconduct for your male officers actions.

You often heard some of the male officers describe you as ‘Stuck-up, picky, prude’ but you didn’t see an issue with that.

You took your job serious, there was never room for error in this line of work.

You were very by the book. 

You saw everything in black and white.

Control and Regulations was your game.

Which is why you were tasked guarding some of the worst criminals in the city.

That now included Alastor.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Just treat him how you do the other inmates. You’re my best officer here to handle something like him” The warden said. You were the best for this. You took a deep breath “Fine, but I want a raise” you grumbled, smiling.

—————————————————————————————

“Inmate 666 rise n shine! put your hands through the open slot” you commanded. You stood outside the steel padlock door, waiting for hands to appear to be cuffed.

Nothing.

You knocked on the door again, a warning.

You huffed, “Last chance inmate! Or I’m dragging you out!”

Silence.

You cursed under your breath and looked to your backup guard

”open the door” he looked worried but followed your orders.

The security door whirled opened and you stood in the open doorway, you hand hovered over your baton as you approached the figure laying in bed, worst case he killed himself; best case…you kick his ass out of bed. “DuPont!” You sneered, kicking the edge of his bed. The figure stirred, groaning at the bright light pouring in the small room, he stretched, joints popping and made a move to sit upon the bed.

He rubbed his eyes, reached for his glasses and finally looked at you. A smile appeared on his face “Well i must have died and went to heaven” he drawled standing up.

You took a step back out of instinct. You scoffed at him ”you wish now put your shirt on and hands behind your back.”

Alastor let out a chuckle as he reached for his shirt.

Your eyes roamed his exposed skin. Smooth, skin riddled with scars. For a lanky bastard he had quite the muscle definition.

He was handsome, the type of guy you would have happily let chat you up.

But you were the truth behind that smile.

”so what pleasure am i owed that I get to see your pretty face after so long?” He asked like he was talking about the weather. You didn’t answer him as you locked the handcuffs and nudged him towards the open door to start walking.

———————————————————————————-

“You will be provided three meals a day. One hour of outdoors activities and you’ll have recreational if you earn good behavior, but i highly doubt that. Am I clear?” You ask as he stared at you with a stupid smile. You frowned “get that smile off your face DuPont.” He only smiled harder “I can’t help it. I enjoy being in your presence my dear” 

You leaned across the table, eyes hard as you got in his face.

”listen to me you irritating prick! In here I rule. You listen to everything I say and pray I am in a good mood to deal with your shit. I can make what remains of your life hell on earth. Do I make myself clear?” You hissed.

Alastor leaned back, an amused look on his face, shrugging “Crystal”

”Good”

You walked him back to his cell after he ate and uncuffed him. Walking out you slammed the door shut and waited to hear the lock before moving to make your rounds.

”I do hope you have a good night my dear” you hear him say as you walk down the corridor, ignoring him.

—————————————————————————-

Alastor sighed as he sat on his bed. A low chuckle escaped his throat. Oh how he missed you. 

When he met you five years ago, he knew you were the one for him. There was something about you that gave him a thrill. 

He admits he didn’t count on you being a police officer; you had fooled him flawlessly. 

His cock twitched in his pants. Those pretty eyes that once held warmth were ever so chilling. 

How he couldn’t wait to break that cold demeanor of yours.

He just had to bid his time and after all he had all the time in the world with you.

————————————————————————————-

You were focused on some paperwork when two male officers popped their heads in your office.

”hey a couple of us are going for a night out you coming?” Max asked with a smile as Danny was behind him with puppy eyes.

You didn’t even look up from your work “ill pass but maybe next time guys” you hear the groan before leaving.

You shook your head lightly as you finished filling in your notes.

You looked at your watch, it was almost time to patrol.

————————————————————————————-

Alastor could hear the footsteps of the two male guards that occasionally visited his floor.

”she never wants to hang out. Fucking bitch thinks she better than us or something?” A voice whined.

”oh you know how she is. Work on the brain. She wouldn’t be so strict if she loosened up a bit hahaha i would love to fuck that.”

Alastor grimaced. Disgusting trash 

He might have been a certified lady killer, but he was still a gentleman. And lowly scrum like them didn’t even deserve to think of you that way.

You were his.

And he’ll make sure of that.

A dark smile crept on his face just at the thought.

———————————————————————————-

It was fairly quiet tonight. 

You found yourself standing outside Alastor’s cell.

”You gone say something cherie or stand guard all night. I promise I have no intention of escaping.” He purred.

You frowned “I have nothing to say to you”

You heard him laugh “really? You had a lot to say five years ago”

He was baiting you, you knew this, but your temper was hot

”You are despicable you know that? You think you so smart, but you know something Alastor? You got sloppy. Tell me. Why? Why did you kill all them girls?” You hissed, now facing the door.

You hadn’t even realized his hands were out in the slot until his large hands grasped yours.

You tensed and went to tug your hands out of his, but he firmly kept a grip.

”why? What kind of question is that? The answer is simple.” His thumbs rubbed your hands.

”No the answer was stupid. You commited those crimes, killed those innocent women for pure fun? They should have sent you to the Ward.” You said angrily.

Alastor smiled, through you couldn’t see it

”Maybe but I’m completely in my right mind I assure you. The reason for all the mess? Simple…they weren’t you” he bent down to press his lips to your knuckles.

You ripped your hands back, eyes wide “you’re sick”

He hummed, rolling his eyes.

”doesn’t change how I feel about you darlin”

He was surprise to hear the lock to his cell and the door open to reveal you.

And you were angry.

Your face was balled into a frown “It was never about me! You think I would believe that shit!” Your hand pulled your gun, aiming it at him “You’re nothin’ but a liar and a killer. Ain’t no love in that dark heart of yours. You are incapable of love.” Your lip quivered slightly, giving way to your emotions under the glare you held.

Alastor walked up to you, right up to your gun pressing against his chest, his hands were up, but he was still craning his head down at you “is that what you tell yourself about me dear?” 

That sharp smile on his face, his eyes wide “then kill me. Pull the trigger and serve justice.”

His eyes were analyzing you. You were panting, chest constricted in your uniform, cheeks flushed with anger but your plump lips wobbled.

One of his hands gently wrapped around the gun, lowering it as he pressed against your body. The other taking hold of your chin.

He lowered his head til his lips were but a whisper away, ghosting yours lightly “What i feel for you darlin, love ain’t got nothing on it”

Your brain seemed to catch up with the situation you were in and you tried to reestablish control, but Alastor had already sunk his claws in you.

Your eyes widened when his lips slammed on yours, your hand with the gun whipped to hit him across the head, but he caught it and used the momentum of your body to twirl you around and pin your arm against your back, making you drop the weapon as you wince in pain.

His lips were at your neck, nose brushing against your ear

”never drop ya guard dear, didn’t they teach you that?” He taunted.

You struggled against him as he pushed you down on the small bed, pressing you down with his weight. 

You thrashed about, body filling with panic as you couldn’t throw throw him off you.

Alastor grunted as you kicked at him, narrowing his eyes as he pressed his full weight against you.

”easy doll easy. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Well too much hehehe” his brushed his nose against yours, trailing his lips to kiss your cheeks and jaw.

With his hips fixed between your parted thighs, he pressed his hardening length against the softness of your covered mound.

Large hands cupped your breasts, and before long you heard a tear. Your eyes widened as the cold air met your chest and gasped asho Alastor quickly made work of your bra. He let out a hoarse groan as he kneaded the tender flesh, mouth wrapping around a perky nipple, causing you to gasp.

He nipped and tugged the soft nip before lavishing it with his tongue, like an apology for the harsh treatment. ”I knew you’ll have the prettiest pair of tits. So full and soft. I can’t wait to see them bruised up from my teeth”

You clenched your teeth as you tried to ignore the rather pleasant sensations running through you. With your gun somewhere, all you had was your physical strength. You might couldn’t overpower him, but you could use his weight against him.

Taking the distraction of Alastor focusing on sucking at your chest, you tightened your legs around his waist and used his relaxed posture to flip the two of you over. With your arms free, you pressed your arm into his neck, thighs holding his hips down as you tried to regain your composure.

You tried held your elbow into his throat, glaring at him as he just smiled up you.

Alastor lazily placed his hands on your hips as he raked his eyes over you.

You were disheveled, hair fizzy and face flushed. Your eyes were filled with uncertainty and another emotion. Your lips were swollen and your neck was slowly turning red. With your uniform ripped, your tits were fully exposed, nipples perked and littered with bites.

 You were beautiful 

“I am going to walk out of here and pretend this didn’t happen. You are going to stay right here until I close that door and lock it.” You said sternly, but Alastor wasn’t listening, he was grinding up into you slowly as he trailed a hand up your front, finger fondling with your ripped uniform. You went to slap his hands away when he cupped your breasts but the cold air that met your entire body made you freeze.

”That’s much better don’t you think?” He mused, fingers tapping your hips as he palmed your ass cheeks in full.

You quickly sat up, ready to get off him, when Alastor followed you up, arms locking you against him. He whispered in your ear, voice low and deep “oh you’re so precious. I can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy of yours baby” he kissed your shoulder as he pulled your panties to dip two fingers inside you.

You pushed at his chest, trying to shift your hips away but the motion made you fall back and you grunted as you fell to the floor.

Alastor sucked his fingers, moaning at the taste of you. He sat looking at you, grinning as he moved towards you. You scrambled back, wanting to put distance between the two of you, but Alastor long legs carried him to you and he wrapped a hand around ankle and dragged you back towards him, taking top mount to prevent your from flaring about like a fish.

Tears welled in your eyes as he quickly made work of his pants, freeing his weeping cock. You pressed your hands against his chest, which he took in one hand and held them over your head. He hummed a tune as he pressed his lips to your cheeks, peppering your face in kisses before locking his lips onto yours. You tried to jerk your head away but that didn’t deter him, as he bit down on your lips, crying out, your mouth was invaded by his tongue.

You barely had time to counter, when your breath hitched in your throat, feeling an unknown pressure between your thighs.

A staggered gasp turned into a pained cry as narrow hips thrusted up into you, sheathing his cock to the brim.

Alastor laughed into your mouth, licking at your teeth “Oooh? So I’m your first hehe I’m honored.” He slotted his mouth against yours as he snapped his hips against yours, wanting you to quickly grow accustomed to his brute pace.

The sound of sticky slaps and muffled moans radiated through the cell. Your legs rested on either sides of Alastor’s hips, shaking as he rocked into your body.

“What would the other guards think if they found out you let a dangerous killer fuck you? Hmm? This breaks so many laws baby. Hehe fuck you feel good. You take me so good ha! I knew you could.” A soft whimper bubbled out your throat. Your mind was fighting, but your body was welcoming the unwanted assault. 

Your tongue lolled out your mouth as Alastor’s cock dragged along your insides, making your back arched as he hit a nerve that had you moaning.

Your soft moans spurred the man on as he angled his hips, pounding you into the cold floor.

Oh how long he had imagined fucking you. You were like nothing he could have imagined. Your tight cunt clinged to his dick as he bullied it through your walls.

He caught sight of your discarded gun and grabbed it, resting the cool metal against your skin. Your eyes widened, body freezing despite the jolts from his hips.

His brows quirked when your cunt clenched “Scared or horny baby?” He chuckled darkly, leaning back onto his knees, pulling you with him. 

He let out a soft moan as you sunk down on him, uttering dirty praise and encouragement. “You gonna ride me baby? Hmm? You gonna let a killer stretch this pussy out? Ill make you feel so good baby” he rocked up into you, softly thrusting.

You rested your head into the crook of his neck, shaking as Alatsor’s hands rubbed your back. The gun slowly trailing up your skin. One hand tangled in the roots of your hair, pulling your head back, as you felt the tip of the gun at your chin.

Alastor cooed as he pulled you down into his thrusts, making your jaw clench “k-kill me bastard” you hissed,  eyes clenched feeling his cock bury into you with a wet squish.

Alastor’s body vibrated as he let out a laugh “Kill you? Oh darlin no. then there wont be a pretty face to look forward to see everyday. I have no desire to paint the walls red with your blood haha no I want to paint your walls white” 

You leaned into his body, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. Your fingers dug into his skin and out of anger for the onslaughter of pleasure you sunk your teeth into his neck.

Alastor’s cock twitched as his hips snapped into yours as a response. 

Fuck! He eyes rolled slightly into his skull “careful baby. I hate to put a baby in you so soon” he chuckled.

Then the light bulb went off in his head

On second thought… 

————————————————————————————-

You shouldn’t be doing this as much. 

This was so wrong! On so many levels. 

Many many violations. 

Hell you could lose your job!

You almost hoped that another guard would come by and see what was happening so you could get out of here…but that wasn’t going to happen.

This is your floor and yours alone.

”OooH fuuuuccck, p-please! don’t… stop” you whined, throwing your head back, body leaned back with your arms trying to support your body as Alastor rammed up into your pussy. You hadn’t given much thought to sex, but he must be what girls in college use to call ‘packing’. His dick felt like it was splitting you in two, hitting that spongey nerve just right.

The man let out a gruff laugh beneath you, one hand on your hip to bounce you on his cock and the other holding that stupid gun against your clit. The cool metal sending shocks through your cunt. ”Oh you’ve made such a mess darlin” he tsked, eyes focused on his cock disappearing into you. A frothy cream coated the base of his cock, making both of your inner thighs sticky.

“But you’re so pretty when you’re messy.” He smirked, tilting his head

”I-I hate you!” You cried as he pinched your clit, slowly drawing tight circles on the bud. He hummed, kissing up the column of your neck “But your cunt says otherwise” he purred as he started pulling you down harder into his thrusts. Your eyes rolled as loud moans and whines left your throat. You might didn’t realize, but you had been fucking him back since the very beginning.

All that pent up frustration and tightly bound moral code snapping the second his cock breached your virgin walls.

Your cunt fluttered around him as he sucked a tit into his mouth. He released the sore nipple with a pop,tonguing it as he watched your face distort with pleasure as he had you met his thrusts.

“You’re everything I imagined and so much more” he whispered. He couldn’t help but admire you like this.

You opened your mouth to say something snarky, but he caught your lips as he sped up his pace, swallowing your gasps as he hit the sweet spot that had you mewling.

He felt your cunt clench and contract, allowing him deeper access to nirvana.

“Don’t you wanna cum baby? Because i know i do fuuck! Be a good little slut for me baby” Alastor hissed, feeling his dick twitch.

Your orgasm must have been approaching because you started to push against him, hips trying to raise and get off his dick.

Oh you weren’t going anywhere.

A gasp escaped you, your eyes wide as he tightened his hold on your hips “N-no no no no Alastor stop! Dont!” You pressed your hands against his chest to try and lift off him, but to no avail.

He laughed in your ear wickedly ”you are going to cum on my cock whether you like it or not baby ”

He wrapped his arms around you, forcing you to take the full force of his thrusts, wanting to break you from his cock.

You whimpered, eyes clenching as you buried your head in his shoulder. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you tense and hips grind into his to instinctively ride out the pleasure 

“I’m cumming ooh fuck fuck fuck! Alastor!” You whined loudly, body slumping as you shook against him.

Alastor kissed your shoulder as your cunt fluttered, hips stuttering and with a groan he cummed inside you, pressing you down to take all his dick as he painted your walls.

His dick twitched before he pulled out of you, smiling as his cum slowly leaked out of you as you slipped off his lap, glaring at him as he smiled at you.

Your eyes widened as he pulled a small tape recorder from his pocket.

”I think your boss would be very surprised to hear you fucking a criminal heheh”

tears welled in your eyes as you reached for the device, but he held it out of reach, opting to grab your hair and pull you flush against his cum covered cock.

”but don’t worry my dear, no one will know your little secret…as long as you play nice” his teeth split through his smile as he tapped the tip of of his dick against your lips.

”After all I wouldn’t want to lose my assistant again after breaking her in finally don’t you agree?” He hummed as he pushed his dick into your mouth, sighing as you gagged around him.

“That’s my good girl”

He never forgot about you. 

How could he?

You were his favorite doll after all….

—————————————————————————————-

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[bitterrobin]

the mom/dadification of Dick really starts to be detrimental when people say things like "[insert parental figure] should've done more to properly reprimand/comfort [insert whump blorbo here]" Especially when it comes to the 2009 era with Tim's whole deal - its always "why didn't Dick 'parent' Damian better and do something for Tim???" and never actually analyzing why that whole idea is wrong. Dick isn't Tim's father and Dick isn't Damian's father. He's Tim's older brother first and foremost. Why does whenever Bruce die or do something shitty suddenly everyone shoves Dick into the Fatherhood role? He has responsibility as the adult in simple terms, yes, but at the time of Bruce's death in the 2009 Reborn era he was not Damian's family.

He was watching Damian because Damian at the time was an obstacle, like running around having to carry a bomb and watch it so it doesn't explode. He wasn't taking care of Damian because he cared about the kid (at first) and he told Tim that much before Tim decided to leave. He explicitly told Tim that he trusted him as an equal partner, not another kid he needed to watch out for. And whether that sentiment is wrong or not is your opinion, but theres something to said about Dick's own struggles with independence and how he was probably trying to give Tim a chance of independence that wouldn't end as badly as Dick and Bruce's schism did. It backfired in a sense, and honestly I feel regardless of whether Tim stayed as Robin or not things would still have ended shitty because they were both grieving and Tim is a teenager becoming an adult and they were not agreeing on the Bruce thing. (Even if Tim was never shown on panel telling Dick his actual ideas for Bruce being alive before he left).

Whatever idk. I just feel people forget Dick has his own serious issues and absolutely none of the Batman characters would be adept at therapy speak or actively acknowledging their own problems. Dick has his own shit to deal with, just as Tim has his own issues and Damian has issues. There's never going to be a correct solution to the very human conflict going on. You can't "I'm a good parent/sibling" your way out of it. Dick suddenly gaining self-sentience and deciding to punish Damian like a dad would change nothing. Honestly it'd make things worse, Damian has never responded well to parenting and I don't get why people think getting yelled at or put in baby jail would fix his deep-seated issues with the concept of mom/dad. Damian getting punished wouldn't fix anything. Tim staying Robin wouldn't fix anything because he was already set on leaving to search for clues on his theory.

[spdrvyn]

miguel and his sunshine human gf that loves to annoy the shit out of him and sometimes in order to stop her/calm her down he has to put her in an air jail 🤭

ardor and annoyance

miguel and reader who's a bundle of energy and joy. having to tame your late night rituals is no easy task, but it's one that he's always willing to take. what's more important than having your dear lover in bed with you?

pure fluff. reader can be seen as either civilian/spider. is it really one of my fics if i don't write about how much miguel hates himself even by just a little bit

dividers by @cafekitsune

What Miguel learned from being a leader, setting an example, being his mother's son, and serving as a hero was patience. 

It was a value that he had slipped up on from time to time, more often with himself. If he ever found himself at wit's end with someone else, he would mope until it passed or wait to get some precious alone time and healthily expresses his emotions by making a mess of his quarters and breaking down until he'd get tired and just sleep it off, restarting this precious cycle. 

Eventually though, he had begun to no longer exhaust himself by getting angry. Unless the entire multiverse was at stake (ahem), then he'd have to spring into action. But his main priority now is to fix the problem, get it over with, rinse, and repeat. 

When you entered his life, he realized that there was more to his ridiculous routines, more than his self-destructive attitudes, and that true patience came with love and caring as well. Obviously, he's light years away from being content with himself, but you redirect him, navigating through when that dastardly cycle repeats, so that you can wash it away and make him anew. 

Miguel isn't the only one that has his layers peeled back though, there's so much that he notices about you. That composed and mature persona that you set up for yourself, that has built good albeit only professional connections with the other spiders eases its way into a bubbly and joyful demeanor whenever you're around him. 

It almost didn't make sense, Miguel just seemed like the kind of guy to not want to do that with, to not want to relax around. He couldn't even relax on his own, the thought that anyone could feel comfortable in their own skin around him was shoved into the back of his mind. That connection that he so painfully needs is put aside for prioritizing the safety of everyone everywhere else. 

Your true nature is infectious, to his dismay. It's too difficult to avoid the care that you're so insistant on giving him, it started with working overtime, to enjoying working overtime, to going over to Miguel's place for work purposes, to going over to Miguel's place for non-work purposes to kissing him for the first time, and now you're dating. 

The catch with Miguel having let loose around him was that all that conserved energy circulated around his apartment, whenever he got home from another long day at the Society, he'd climb into you doing five different things all at once. Reading, watching a show, watching a baking show, baking a cake, and texting. 

It was hectic, nothing that he couldn't handle, but how you're not on the verge of collapsing probably deep into the trenches of the night concerned him. For slightly more selfish reasons, Miguel doesn't like not having you in bed with him. This wasn't as extreme as the missions he took up at work, but it was a mission nonetheless.

You're... Busy, Miguel doesn't know what with. He sees yarn, he sees cookie dough, he sees a laptop, tablet, phone, and headphones, and so many other trinkets that are buried under the pile that you've built on the kitchen counter. Your focus shifts between each individual station, and Miguel shifts closer and closer to you quietly. 

You're occupied on the laptop, occasionally looking at the stove while you're doing so. Then returning to your yarn and now knitting needles? Before mixing the cookie dough even more and even liking the mixture off of the spoon, humming to yourself contently. 

You don't even notice that Miguel is right behind you, until he secures you against his front and lifts you up with a squeal. 

"Miguel!" You whine, squirming against his solid arms. Your feet swing in the air and you try to push his hands away from your midsection, but there's no use in trying to free yourself when it's with him anyway. 

"Go to sleep. No más tonterías, cariño." His voice is fogged by sleep, as his grasp on you tightens. You turn slightly with what little space that you have and you can see his slumber muddled stature. Tousled hair, relaxed expression, eyes half-lidded, and he raises a brow at your staring. "What?"

"Nothing," you sigh, "I'll go to sleep, you just have to let me go."

Miguel shakes his head, rocking your swinging body from side to sidet to go along with it as well. "No, I don't trust you." There's a humorous fry to it, you accentuate the pout on your lips, and he laughs. 

It takes a little while for you to convince him to put you down, you can't say this is the most uncomfortable position for you. Whenever you're around Miguel, you always wind up in his arms one way or another, but this time that principle is just being used against you. The conversation shifts, less about your captivity, more about Miguel's day, your day, anything new outside, anything new in Spider Society. The position you're in, the silky nature in his voice, it gets you groggy and Miguel can sense it. 

He wins. 

He handles you to the bed properly now, laying your once tireless form onto the comforter as he tucks you in. You don't even try objecting anymore, the stove is still on, the video on your laptop was probably still playing, and that knitting project will have to remain unfinished until tomorrow, but it was fine. You know that everything is fine when Miguel gets into bed with you, pressing his lips to the top of your head in one long kiss. 

He wins this little dispute of yours, but you know that you've won at life knowing that your nights end like this, engulfed in his embrace, the sound of his breathing bringing you to a deep sleep as well. 

[looseduke]

pib is really really good bc he’s basically a war criminal but he’s also just a little cat? like he has human intelligence i guess but he’s quite literally just a little kitty cat. what are you going to do, lock him up? you’re gonna put the cat in jail? throw away the key? come on. he’s just a little cat. he wants to be comfortable. and well fed. bowls of milk and little scritches behind his ears. and if people have to die to make that happen can you really blame him? he’s a cat.