Ya know, Danny’s death could well be considered Manslaughter on the part of his parents. Manslaughter in Illinois is defined as either:
-The defendant knew or should have reasonably known that his actions could have lead to the death of the other party;
-The defendant's actions showed an apparent disregard for human life or were intrinsically dangerous; and
-The defendant's actions or failure of duty were the direct cause of the other party's death
The Fentons asked their 14-year-old to clean a lab full of hazardous and dangerous material without the proper equipment or training. The average person would therefore expect that Danny would somehow be harmed or even killed. They failed their duty as his legal guardians AND operated in a way that was intrinsically dangerous. By any definition, this was Manslaughter. Unfortunately, the maximum sentence for the crime of manslaughter is about 3-5 years. That said, because Danny is a minor and this is therefore also child endangerment, the charge could be upgraded to a class two felony with a maximum sentence of 7 years or 14 for an extended term. This would also invove a legal fee, a period of supervision for up to two years, and an investigation by CPS (who would ABSOLUTELY take Jazz and Danny away)
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Six Sentence Sunday
tagged by the brilliant @oknowkiss whose brain i want to live inside - her post is here, believe me when i say i am very excited about the rest.
I have been writing wildly but my life is very overwhelming atm so i don't get much fandom time. really missing the place (and answering my asks, and going through my mentions 😩) and i hope everyone else is doing well these days!
anyway this is taken from the sex scene i've been writing for weeks which is now nearly 10k long... help. in this fic voldemort lives, harry is still fighting him, and draco joined the Order in 6th year.
“Please,” Harry said. “Draco, please…” deliberately, almost a tease, looking at Draco through his lowered lashes, an invitation. And it worked, just like Harry had known it would, Draco’s face taking on a preoccupied look like he had when he was looking through Lucius’s notebooks, like there was a puzzle he was trying to solve, and he practically shoved Harry along the wall towards the door that led into the parlour.
“In here,” he said, managing to sound bossy even when his words were muffled against Harry’s mouth, though Harry was weirdly into it, liked how he got posher-sounding the more Harry kissed him, liked that he wasn’t averse to pushing Harry around a bit, liked the feel of his warm hand pressing hard at the base of Harry’s spine as they moved together into the room and towards the big old horsehair sofa that sat solidly in front of the dusty fireplace.
The window was north-facing in here, the light thin and high. “Off,” Draco said, and Harry began obediently to lift his t-shirt up, before he saw that Draco was talking crossly to the dustcloth that he was irritatedly flicking off the sofa onto the floor. Harry paused, feeling silly, but then Draco turned, brushing off his hands, and when he caught sight of Harry, the t-shirt bundled up under one armpit, one elbow sliding out below the hem, he stopped still and blushed so obviously that Harry found himself laughing.
“Shut up,” Draco said, but he was laughing too, and then he strode the last few steps towards Harry and slid both hands right up under Harry’s t-shirt, easing it the rest of the way off him, letting it drop decisively to the floor at their feet.
“There,” he said. “That’s better.”
Tagging @hogwartsfirebolt @lqtraintracks @jalesidor @pineau-noir @teacup-tai @vivantesopales @xanthippe74 and anyone reading this , if you fancy it. please @ me if you do, i'm feeling so out of things atm and want to know what everyone is up to!
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For Pit, father's day is an odd thing to picture of but so is mother's day. The concepts aren't foreign to him, but because of his upbringing he finds both of the days as weird to think of. He understands why both of them exist because being a good, loving parent to your children is always worth celebrating - he simply had no reasons to think of these days as anything important back then. Pit doesn't even remember ever having a mother, and for the longest time he didn't remember having a father either.
Well, at least that's who Pit assumes the golden-haired man from his dreams is. The young boy couldn't really think of him being anything else but his father; he too had wings and blue eyes like Pit's, so there seemed to be some connection between them. Even if it wasn't by blood, the man had certainly acted as if he was Pit's father, therefore making him worthy of the title in Pit's eyes. He had after all called himself lucky for having Pit in his life. But all that did was make his sudden disappearance even more weird to Pit; just what had happened to him? It seemed like he had every intention of coming back to Pit and based on Palutena's reaction in one of his memories, it had been unexpected to her as well. It clearly couldn't have been Medusa's doing, she had executed her plans when Pit had been much older, so what had caused it? Clearly his father had known he was marching into something since he had been wearing that fancy armor, but what had he been fighting against? And would it even matter anyway because of what Medusa had done to angels? Had he too been turned to stone like all the others or was he still out there somewhere? And this was him completely ignoring the tiny chance that his father simply just looked like an angel and wasn't actually one; angels were rarely if ever allowed to wear something of that high quality as his battle armor had been, and it looked like it had been made specifically for him. Why was an angel wearing something so ornate, Pit didn't know nor did he have any guesses that made even a lick of sense. Eventually he had come to accept that slight chance, as outlandish it had felt like; he knew that wings weren't exactly uncommon among the divine and their servants, so maybe his father was just one of those people. Pit had after all heard few offhand comments from Palutena that even some gods of extremely high status like Ares and Hebe had wings, something their children also possessed (presumably their servants as well, though he hadn't thought of it enough of to ask about it back then). Now what made them so different from angels, Pit didn't know why.
(In fact, the more he tried to think of it, the less he understood it. Thankfully it seemed to be a common opinion, as even Palutena couldn't give him straightforward answer about it. Apparently there was something more fundamental that separated gods from angels than simply having wings, though that never stopped some gods from having angel children. When Pit had asked her to explain that, Palutena had simply shrugged her shoulders and told him that she was equally clueless about that matter.)
Lost in thoughts, Pit can't help wonder how Palutena could react if he told her of these newly awakened memories. Part of him does wish to break the silence and talk things straight with her, but at the same time he feels like now isn't the time for that. Compared to what she has to worry of, Pit feels like everything he worries of is so meaningless and trivial. It feels so unimportant and not worth discussing when there are still so many troubles in the world, all of which have to be dealt first before he can focus on his own problems. Time's a limited resource and he just doesn't have enough of it.
For a moment his thoughts stray to Dark Pit and he can already imagine the other angel yelling at him and begging for him to be selfish for once in his life - he knows it's inevitable once he gets to know of the dreams, Dark Pit's going to yell at him for not coming out to the clear immediately, but Pit doesn't think that he's allowed be selfish quite yet. Not when the Underworld army is still causing trouble and he's not even sure of what may have happened to his father. Once things have calmed down a bit and he has some ideas of where to start looking, he can be selfish. There likely wouldn't be any harm of Dark Pit knowing a bit sooner than others, though - it's simply a matter of how much sooner, because it can't be that much sooner. He's going to be the first one to know, but only once everything has calmed down a bit.
Pit still isn't completely sure of how he's supposed to deal with father's day moving forward. Maybe one day he could actually have something worth celebrating; if nothing else, at least he'd have some closure. It would be good enough. But now all Pit has to focus on is to think what he's eventually going to say to Dark Pit when he tells of the golden-haired angel to him.
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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 6: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression
(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)
The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should ask the Innkeeper about the suspicious egg he got from the Well Creature….
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After finishing his food scraps, he awkwardly creeps back over to the main counter, pulling up a stool and just hoping the Innkeeper will eventually make eye contact with him... She finally looks to the side whilst cleaning a glass, his chance to blurt out whatever he can.
"SO!- uh,, I um... I found something weird, or uh.. I didn't find it actually, I guess, I..... s-someone, or something.. gave it to me, as maybe..? a reward, or.. oh, well i-it doesn't matter why.. but UH, but so, I was just wondering, d-do you think you might know anything about it? about like, uh... stuff? Objects.. perhaps.....?"
She stares with equal parts amusement and concern, crossing her arms and letting out a soft chuckle, "Well, I've seen quite a variety of things while working here, so - Yeah, I could try to help you identify an item, if that's what you're asking."
"G-good. Okay. Well.. It's, uh..... this." He's barely even placed the little wooden egg box up on the counter before she's already slamming the lid shut and reaching over to force it back into his bag. Suddenly serious, her eyes dart around the room, scanning to ensure no-one else happened to notice.
"Don't EVER let anyone see you with that, okay??". Abrupt tone shift making him even more nervous, he just stares blankly, muttering a few gibberish noises whilst nodding at her in confirmation.
"I mean, I'm not absolutely certain," her voice lowers as she speaks, "but to me it looks exactly like a Caiploras egg. Those animals have been nearly extinct for at least a hundred years. Only tiny groups of them still exist here and there, and even those eventually get wiped out as soon as they're discovered. Kings and nobles used to hunt them, especially for the eggs, 'cause of all the theories - unique magical properties, uses in enchanting, shit like that.. I don't really know, I'm not that experienced with magic.... But.."
She pauses for a few seconds to stare him down (this does not soothe his anxiety at all), examining intently, as if to determine whether he's actually trustworthy before continuing..
"...My brother is. He's a mage, and a scholar, and he specializes in stuff like this, all these rare animals and whatnot. He'll hate me just sending a complete stranger over there, but.. I think you should go see him. He'd definitely be able to identify it- hell, he'd probably even pay you for it, if it really is what I think it is. And, he'd know how to take care of it properly, raise it well, not just cut it up for fucking potions or whatever...", she scoffs bitterly.
Grasping at a nearby napkin to fan himself with, he shifts sweatily in his seat, "W-wh... but,.. How would I do that?"
"What do you mean? Do what?"
"F-find, him.. IHhh... I just.. I don't, know the area well.. is all, I uh...."
"I'll give you directions, obviously.. Are you okay? Do you like... need some water? You look-"
"NHnnnou, I'M FINE! I just, haha.. uh... Maybe, am.. not very good at....uh.. this.." He gestures around himself nonspecifically.
With a brief confused glance, she pours a cup of water anyway, then casually plucks a small notebook from her pocket to begin scribbling messily. "Well, look, I'll give you the information, and if you feel up to it, you can go. I really think you should, but, eh... your choice, y'know."
As he fights his shaky hands to maintain control of the water glass, she lays out the paper on the table, pointing at parts of her sketch. "He's over in Fargahel, which should be a few days travel from here. See? The roads kind of go like this, but it's mostly a straight path. Look for the ruins of an abandoned castle. He's holed himself up in there, the underground part, repurposed into some sort of 'sanctuary' for rehabilitating injured birds or whatever the hell he's up to now. He probably won't attack you or anything, but I signed a little note on the back of this so he knows I sent you.. just in case."
Neatly folding up the map, she slides it towards him as she leans closer to intensely meet his eyes. "Just remember, no matter what you do, do NOT let anyone know you have that egg. There are plenty of folks out here still hunting for them. You don't want someone recognizing it and coming after you. Especially with how, uh...", it feels like she might mention he doesn't seem he'd be very good at combat, but she simply lets the sentence trail off, shrugging with a smile and politely patting his hand as he takes the paper.
"Just get some sleep, yeah? Think about it. And talk to me in the morning if you have any more questions."
He slumps over to lean on the counter, resting for a moment after she walks back to the other end of the room, just trying to wrap his head around all the new information.. He only took the egg because it looked pretty! He just wanted it to hatch into a cool chicken or something! Why does it have to actually be some big stinky scary secret rare item?... With a heavy sigh, he resolves to never again trust mysterious creatures that pop out of abandoned wells....
Eventually trudging up to his room for the night, he flops onto the lumpy mattress that seems to just be hay stuffed into dusty old potato sacks. As he rustles around waiting to fall asleep, he considers all of his options... What should he do with the egg?
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For the five sentence fic! (My poor boy, I'm sorry - I love him, I promise. He deserves all the fluffs)
'A howling scream shreds through Elliot's throat'.
A howling scream shredded through Elliot's throat, but it didn't last long before a caged muzzle was snapped over the lower half of his face, locking his jaw shut.
Burning tears rained down his sunken cheeks as Christian's red-hot poker tore apart his broken skin and cauterized the wounds it left in its wake. "MPHH! NGHH!" Any words he wanted to speak were lost behind his facial prison. He couldn't breathe. What had he done to deserve this?
Lyra, please don't leave me here
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