#tw attempted child murder

[m--rtyr]

*hold gun cutely* Your turn to share headcannons for us to stea- take inspiration from

I find this so funny because there was a period of time where I only posted HCs… and it’s so weird bc damn I don’t do that anymore huh

A lot of my HCs have obviously changed in the 2/3 years I’ve been posting for this fandom, so…

Ahem.

If you ever want any SPECIFIC HCs, do ask, like I’m genuinely happy to offer any info you want. Anyways

DIVINE WARRIORS, because mfers keep talking about them.

TW, for like, sacrifices, and attempted child-murder/sacrifice... and child-on-mother cannibalism... if it counts as cannibalism when the child is a god.

They’re all gods or god-adjacent. Everyone talks about how they are making them not all gods, but fuck that man I find this fun.

They all reach their godhood in different ways, though. and godhood is something that is... complicated. fluid, even.

i'm just gonna talk about Shad (Judgement, in LR) and Irene, tho, bc otherwise this post would be mega fucking long. and i'm pretty sure i have a Kul'Zak ask anyways.

Y'know how people say 'the world is your oyster'? Well, the world is shad's egg. literally. He's the Draconic God of Death, and his entity was created in the belly (centre) of the earth, in heat and warmth and magma. He clawed his way out of the world, and this lore is mentioned in the prologue of LR, but his emergence from the core of the earth caused the earth to bunch up, and created mountains and valleys, and ravines. similarly to dropping a pebble into water, his emergence caused literal ripples. which is why most mountains and such are kind of in a radial pattern outwards from the 'belly of the world', which is just a huge fuck-off ravine. That said, not all mountains, because it's been thousands/millions of years since his emergence, and things do change. He was created as a god, before anyone knew what gods were. He was not the first being to exist, Early humans were around to witness his birth, but he is by far one of the most ancient. Hence why his followers call him 'the Ancient'.

Irene was born a god, though she was birthed by human parents. It's a whole situation, really, very lengthy. More about her mother than it really is about Irene. But she was born during the emergence. Her head crowned as Shad's emerged from the earth, and when he had fully freed himself and laid upon the cool ground, Irene was put into her mother's arms. Her and Shad are perfectly the same age, born at the same exact moment, to balance each other out. It's unclear which one sparked the creation of the other, but it doesn't matter. Both were born bloody and screaming, made to match. Irene was, however, not born looking human. She was a creature from day one. And she was ugly asf too bc like, she's feathered in her creature form, and have you ever seen fresh baby birds? Them mfers ugly. So, reasonably, her parents' people went 'aa' and decided to sacrifice her to the juvenile god of death bc they have volcanoes now, they can do that. However, Irene's mother was fiercely over-protective of her, and instead hid her in the woods to keep her out of the grasps of those wishing to harm her. She meant to go back and get her, so that she could find somewhere safe for her, but Irene's mother kind of got caesar'd (happy ides of march for two days ago), for trying to keep the fucked up little thing she birthed. Her body was dumped into the forest, and Irene ended up finding it and going 'oh a snack'. so... that's fun. However, as is how blood magic works, when one of magic consumes the heart of another, they consume their entirety. It was how Irene claimed a human form, by eating a human heart, and whilst it wasn't particularly an instantaneous transformation, it also lead to her becoming a mother. If not for eating her own mother's heart, she never would've had the maternal traits that ending up characterising her for most of her existence.

half of the irene stuff wasn't even info on how she became a god lmao, just 'oh she was born that way... also she ate her mother lmao'

[saturdaynightlivedork]

Really?

(TW: C***d a***e, attempted m****r)

I was just browsing comments on a Reddit post (I’m not going to say what the post was about, but it dealt with the hardships of parenting Disabled children).

Someone in the comments brought up the Dr. Phil episode about Issy Stapleton and said they felt for the one who tried to murder her so badly. I don’t think anyone said they felt sorry for, you know, Issy.

REALLY? It’s been almost TEN YEARS and people are still excusing what happened to Issy? 🤦‍♀️

Why?!

I support Issy. I will until the day I leave this Earth.

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt3 of the Danny is the 99th attempted clone Tim made of Kon. Kon learns about Danny.

Relevant info: Kon was dead closer to a year and a half in this au, and this happens a few months after his revival.

[Pt2: here] [Pt4: here]

So Tim has admittedly been putting off meeting up with the Titans. Everyone has settled back into the new normal. Too much has happened for it to look anything like before, but the other 3 Titans have been hanging out semi-regularly, and Tim turns down their invites 3 of 4 times. He knows it's starting to hurt their feelings, and he hates that.

But... he's scared to admit he's a father now. A father to a clone of one of them. He's not sure how to bring it up. Cassie never asked if he was successful, probably just assumed he failed because there isn't a third Superboy flying around. Jokes on her. Danny isn't going to be a Superboy. He's not allowed to even think about being a hero or vigilante until he's 14 at the earliest, and Tim is going to help him find his own name if he chooses that path. He won't be a Robin or Superboy. He won't live in the shadow of those legacies if Tim can help it.

None of that is relevant for the here and now, though. Tim got Jason to babysit Danny and finally agreed to a hang out with the Titans. He asked Danny for his opinion first before making his decision and got the go ahead. So, Tim is finally going to come clean.

Tim barely makes it into the tower when he's tackled by his friends.

"Tim! You're here!" Bart cheers.

"Yeah, it's good to see you guys too. Sorry I haven't been very present." Tim fidgets. "I've been busy... I also haven't been honest..."

"Tim?" Cassie sounds concerned. And Tim just can't. He extracts himself from the puppy pile. He can't make himself give eye contact. He's sure his guilt and shame are written all over his body language.

"Tim, you can tell us anything." Kon sounds super genuine. Tim takes a deep grounding breath.

"Okay, let's do this like a bandaid." Tim finally looks at them, focusing mostly on Kon. "I have a son. He's technically Kon's, too."

He gets the dubious pleasure of watching his three idiots look at his abdomen, as if he gave birth.

"Why-? Kon, we never fucked!? What the fuck guys??" He sputters, waving his hands in front of him.

"Then how-" Cassie realizes. "Oh!"

"Oh?? What do you mean??" Bart is looking between them and vibrating in confusion. Kon is just looking like a confused and concerned puppy.

"Okay, so, I may have had a breakdown with everyone dying or going missing." Tim grimaces. "And while I was fully aware that even if I succeeded, it wouldn't be Kon, I still tried to clone him. And, um, I did manage to succeed in the end."

"Fuck, Tim.." Kon starts.

"Look, I was in a really fucking dark place and needed even just a piece of good I lost." Tim hugs himself, self loathing burning him from the inside out. "Everyone was turning their back on me, I just needed something, anything, to keep going."

"Fuck, I should have helped..." Cassie bites her lip, chewing on her guilty conscious.

"It's fine. No one was listening. Don't beat yourself up over it. You were in a bad spot, too." Tim gives a humorless laugh. "Danny was my 99th attempt. And my last attempt, if I'm honest. I could feel myself breaking more with each failure. On a fucking whim, I decided to make the 99th attempt a baby instead of trying for a teenager, and it worked. I fucked up a bit, I forgot to adjust the knowledge download to that of a 1 year old, but he was alive. He's the best thing to ever happen to me. I was scared to tell you. I'm sorry-"

"Tim.." Kon cuts him off, and Tim snaps his mouth shut. "I.. I'm honestly not sure how to feel about you cloning me, but I'd like to meet him. What's his name?"

Tim rapidly blinks back tears. "Aedan Drake, he prefers being called Danny. I.. I didn't add Kent because I don't trust Clark with him or give him an El name, I wanted him to understand kryptonian language and culture first. I... I also wanted Danny to be old enough to make the decision over his name himself. I don't want him to be treated like you were. The house of El were so awful to you."

"I understand, Tim." Kon steps towards Tim, "Can.. Can I hug you?"

Tim nods and is swept into a tight hug. He feels something give emotionally, and he sobs into his shoulder. "I fucking love him so much."

"Tell me about him." Kon says softly. He can feel Bart and Cassie hoving, unsure what to do, but unwilling to leave.

"He's physically around 3 now. He loves ghosts and space and named the wolf plushy I bought him on his first day alive Wulf." There's some chuckles over that. "He's sassy and petty, but insanely sweet and tries to help out with any and all tasks. I see so much of both of us in him. Nature vs Nurture is a messy bitch. You remember what I said my start as Robin was like?"

"How you had to babysit a grown ass man and force him into better habits?" Cassie snarks.

"Karma's a funny bitch. Danny started doing the same shit to me as soon as he figured out how to walk." Tim giggles. "Anytime we weren't in danger, he'd force me to take care of injuries and to eat and sleep. And I'd do it because what kind of monster denies a baby trying to be helpful... plus he gets really stressed and depressed if he can't help."

Tim grips the back of Kon's shirt. "I don't understand how he developed my people pleaser tendencies so early on. We were stuck on LoA bases when he first started doing everything in his power to help me. I was purposely being a little shit to our "hosts" at the time. So it wasn't a surprise that he developed a Robin's need to troll, but he only saw me be nice to him."

"The LoA??" Kon asks in alarm.

"It was a rough year..." Tim scowls. "And if I see Ra's again, I'm gutting him. B's rules be damned."

"What happened?" Cassie asks, suddenly a lot closer.

"He's a creep, a pedo, and a child abuser." Kon rubs Tim's suddenly very stiff back and shoulders. "I could handle him being creepy towards me. While gross and awful to have a disgusting 300 or something year old man trying to wife me-"

"Excuse me???"

"He WHAT?"

"-I'm more pissed I couldn't protect Danny. I don't know what that piece of shit did when I couldn't take Danny with me, but Danny is linked to the pit now. He luckily doesn't have pit rage like Jason, but he can calm Jason's pit and apparently glows according to Duke." Tim sobs. "I should have killed the man when I had a chance. I don't know what he did to Danny!"

"It's not your fault, Tim." Kon hugs Tim tightly, it's almost painful. "You were in a tough spot and doing your best to keep you both alive."

"Just focus on healing and moving on." Bart says while running a hand through Tim's hair. Cassie rubs both Tim and Kon's backs as Tim gets himself under control.

"Can.. can I meet him?" Kon whispers.

"I'd love for you to meet him." Tim sniffles. "He was nervous you'd hate him for existing. I apparently passed on my stupid anxiety. I couldn't quite get him to believe me when I told him he wouldn't be who you'd be mad at if you got mad. He wants to meet you, but I accidentally made the most jaded baby in the world."

"A Super raised by a Bat is going to be terrifying." Bart giggles. "We'll have to make sure he doesn't become a supervillain."

"Meh. He's too cute. If he goes evil, all he has to do is pout and he'll instantly win." Tim jokes, wiggling out of the hug. "Want to see pictures?"

There's a very strong positive response. The next 3 hours finds Tim showing off pictures and explaining the stories behind them, his team melting at how cute his son is. Tim feels the lightest he's felt in a while. He does have to promise Bart and Cassie to bring Danny over once Kon and Danny meet one on one first.

What Tim doesn't know is Kon is absolutely obsessed with and slightly horny over this parental side of Tim. He's fully daydreaming of the 3 of them living together and being disgustingly domestic the whole time Tim is showing off Danny. Cassie can tell what Kon is thinking about and is amused.

Once Tim leaves, the Titans go to the training room and fuck up some bots because of the rage they feel on Tim and Danny's behalf. They all agree to be as petty as possible to any LoA members they come across and to murder Ra's the moment there's an opportunity to do so without the JL knowing. Tim isn't the only unhinged one on this team. That's why they work so well together.

[shanklin]

For the very sad realitivity falls au

I was thinking it really needed some comfort.

Which got me thinking about Soos, if Soos became like a son figure to Stan, maybe the opposite in realitivity falls?

Maybe Soos becomes like a father figure to Stan (dear lord that poor boy needs it especially with the whole Filbrick situation)

Stan: *sighs* Look I better go, I don’t want to burden you anymore than I already have.

Soos: Nah it’s fine dawg, c’mon, sit down with me. This cool new show is about to come on!

Stan: But, aren’t I selfish for wanting to spend time with you? Wouldn’t you rather do it with Ford?

Soos: Dude, you are being too hard on yourself. I want to spend time with you dawg, because you’re an awesome dude! *ruffles Stan’s hair*

Stan: *trying to hold back tears* I uh-have dust in my eyes.

Soos: There, there dude, let it all out. *hugging Stan*

Stan: *sobbing* I just want to be loved, but I—

Soos: I’ll be here for you

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

Rejoice, dear Anon! You’re getting out of prison early on good behavior!

Soos becoming a father like figure for Stan broke me. Haven’t stopped thinking about this since. I love it dearly.

This ask also made me realise a couple of things

I have no idea what Soos’ role usually is in Relativity Falls AUs

I don’t care. Don’t tell me. Soos is Soos. Maybe a tiny bit older than in canon. 30ish?

I imagine Stan to be like 15 in this for extra angst. He still hasn’t gotten a proper growth spurt yet and definitely has no drivers licence.

…I forgot what number four was. I was too preoccupied in outlining a fic in my head that I’m totally never gonna write. Don't look at the word count

Okay so, comfort? Sure! Dad!Soos! Perfect! Tonal shift with slight crack components incoming? More likely than you’d think!

Where did we leave off?

Filbricks dead, yaay!

Mabel, Dipper and Ford are currently having multiple breakdowns over how much they failed Stan.

And Stan? Stan’s on the run. He’s a murderer now and certain the police are after him and actually let’s say he’s right about that one. It doesn’t help that Filbrick had friends in the police force or at the very least used to pay them off on the regular.

One moment Stan stands above his fathers unmoving body looking at his hands - he really needs to wash his hands.

The next he's a state over in the middle of nowhere in a stolen car that's running out of gas with no money, no food and only the clothes on his back.

He’d curse himself for not taking supplies with him but what the point? He deserves this. He’s a murderer. A selfish, rotten, evil person. He should turn back and surrender. Get himself locked up and pay for his crimes.

But that would mean he’d have to face Ford and the rest of his family. They would come and judge him. See how bad he really is. He can’t do that. He can’t face them. He’d rather die than face their disgust and disappointment.

And yet somehow. Something in him still wants to live. The selfish part of him that refuses to shut up and let him be. That makes him do awful things and hurt others.

Everyone was right about him. So there is no point anymore in trying to be better. He might as well embrace it. It’s easier than thinking about Pa staring at him with dea-no no no no. That doesn't matter. Nothing matters except his own survival.

His car runs out of gas near the woods. It’s dark and cold and the wind howls in the distance. Stan's fight or flight instinct goes into overdrive. He desperately looks for a weapon to defend himself with. After a couple of minutes of frantic searching he finds a small pocket knife in the glove compartment. This will have to do.

There are headlights in the distance coming ever so slowly closer and Stan grasps the knife tighter.

Go away go away go away, Stan silently begs but the car comes to a halt behind him and a large man steps out.

Stan gulps and tightens his resolve. He's a criminal. A- a- murderer. He’s already done the worst thing imaginable to survive. And he will continue to survive. 

Even if that means he has to hurt and kill others. Stan steels himself and decides to do the unforgivable once more. He will kill this man, take his car and money and only live for himself.

A knock on the window. Stan lowers it, ready to strike. One swift stab in the neck and it will alll be over.

“Sup little dood! Need some help there?”

Stan falls over, he drops the knife and stumbles back shaking.

The man chuckles and picks up the knife. This is it. This is how Stan will die. Killed in the middle of nowhere by a gopher like serial killer. No one will never know what happened to him

“Here you go dude. You lost your knife. You need to be careful with these things. Could’ve accidentally stabbed me or something.”

The man holds out the knife and Stan snatches it up and moves back further, holding it protectively over his chest.

“What- what do you want?”

Stan's voice is hoarse. He hasn't used it in days, he realises. And the last time he did, he was shouting before before-

“Saw your car parked here in the middle of these creepy woods and thought you might need some help.”

"Well, I don't. So f-fuck off.” 

Stan flinches. It never ends well when he gives adults attitude. Shit. Shit, why did he do that?

Luckily the man doesn’t react to his mistake. Maybe he didn’t hear him?

“Aw dude. I’d feel bad leaving you all alone. Is your dad here somewhere?”

The man looks around for Stan's…dad. Stan's throat feels like sandpaper.

“No. He’s gone.” Stan whispers and the man's eyes soften.

“I’m sorry du-”

“Gone to get some gas!” Stan exclaims all of a sudden, shoving all his terror, anxiety and guilt into a dark corner in his mind. He needs to put on an act if he wants to survive.

“He’ll be back soon so you can just. Go.”

“Ah no. That’s alright. I’ll wait with you until your dad comes back. It’ll be great. I’ve got some snacks in my car and we can play I spy. See, I’ll start. I spy something green!”

“A tree?” 

"Woah, Dude! You’re like super good at this.”

Is this guy for real? He’s clearly mocking Stan, only. Not. He seems way too sincere. Stan hates it.

“Well this was fun, but you should really go. Stranger Danger and all that”

The man's eyes widen in shock.

“Totally forgot! Sorry, Dude! I’m Soos.”

He holds out his hand. Stan eyes it suspiciously.

“You’re not going to leave are you?”

“Not until you’re safe. Can’t leave a kid like you out here all alone. Your dad, like, shouldn’t have done that. That’s not cool dude.”

Stan might be stupid, but he's not an idiot. The guy is most definitely gonna turn out to be a creep and/or serial killer. The moment Stan lets his guard down around him he’s done for. He should insist the guy leave or better jump out of the car and run away. As starved and tired as Stan is he’d be no match for a big dude like Soos, even if he uses his small pocket knife, but he could probably outrun him in the woods.

There is no way for Stan to come out of this alive.

Either he will piss the guy off by insisting he leave and get murdered or he runs into the woods, gets lost and dies of exposure far away from civilization. 

His only other option is to wait with the guy and play his stupid games until he realises no one will come for Stan and he’s free to do as much axe murdering as he pleases.

No matter what he does. He’ll end up dead, abused and broken with no one to grieve for him. He’s sick and tired of feeling like this. Helpless. No, he needs to stay strong. Strong and selfish.

Stan takes the outstretched hand and shakes it firmly. Just like Pa taught him to do. The firmer your handshake is, the easier it will be to make a deal in your favor.

“Steve Pinington and actually I don’t think my dad will come back anytime soon. He probably got lost and is waiting for me in the next town over. Would it be okay if I hitch a ride with you?”

It was surprisingly easy to convince the man of his lie. Apparently if you get lost you should always stay exactly where you are until you’re picked up. Stan is pretty sure it doesn’t work like that for adults but he won't look a gift horse in the mouth.

New plan.

Make the creep think Stan is just a helpless, innocent and naive kid

Wait until he falls asleep and slit his throat

Take all his money and leave the country. Or something. Stans will figure it out later. Maybe he could  steal a boat…

The drive is nice. There’s food, water and warmth. It makes his hands tingle. He didn’t notice how cold he was before.

Stan gets forced into playing silly road games and when his answers become slower and he feels his eyes droop Soos turns down the music and puts a blanket around him.

Stan tells himself he's just keeping up the act and will only pretend to fall asleep but is out cold a moment later anyway.

***

He wakes up with a scream and swings fist at the nearest object which happened to be the face of his kind of kidnapper.

A crunch. Blood. A body lying at his feet. His hands. He needs to wash his hands.

“Sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I’m sorry-” Stan can’t breathe. There’s blood on his hands. Where is he? He’s sorry.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine dude. I Shouldn’t have woken you like that. It’s just a nosebleed, see?” 

Soos smiles and holds his hands up as the blood drips down his face, over his teeth and onto his shirt. It’s not a pretty sight. Stan looks away.

“You know, one time I tried to see how many hot dogs I could eat at once but I choked and pieces got stuck in my nose. I bled out sausage chunks for like a week straight.”

A weak chuckle escapes Stan's throat. “Eww that’s disgusting.”

Soos clumsily wipes off the blood from his face and holds out some fresh tissues for Stan. He takes them gratefully. It’ll have to do until they find a proper bathroom to clean up.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright little dude.” Soos replies and ruffles his hair. Stan tenses up but lets it happen. He feels the phantom touch long after it’s gone and it takes all of Stan's self control not to trace it his head. He flashes in embarrassment. It felt…safe.

Oh, the guy really knows what he’s doing. Stan will do the world a favour by killing him.

***

To the surprise of no one Stan’s “lost dad” is nowhere to be found. They spend the whole day exploring every inch of the town and asking people if they’ve seen Stan's dad. Stan makes a game out of it, trying to see just how outrageous he can make the descriptions until people think he’s lying.

Soos never once questions his stories.

Eventually they have to give up their search and get ice cream instead. It's the best day Stan had in years. He feels sick.

***

Soos gets them a motel room and opts to sleep on the floor when it becomes clear that only single bed rooms were available. 

His kidnapper is really bad at this, Stan ponders as he watches the man snore. At this rate he’s going to develop Stockholm syndrome and fall in love with him or something. Stan grimaces in disgust. Yep. That’ll do it. He needs to kill him now and proof once and for all that he can survive on his own.

He sneaks out of bed and quietly leans over the man, knife in hand. There’s drool on Soos' face and his nose looks swollen. Stan did that. He hurt him. And Soos didn’t care. He laughed it off with a silly story and distracted Stan until he could breathe again. 

Soos grunts and Stan flinches. The knife falls out of his hands and onto the carpet, nearly missing Soos’ neck. For a moment Stan's heart stops and when it beats again it's racing. With shaking hands Stan pushes the knife into the farthest corner of the room and curls up next to Soos.

He failed.

***

The next morning he wakes up in bed all wrapped in a warm blanket.

Soos greets him but Stan isn’t listening. 

It's all over. He can’t do it. It makes no sense. Why can’t he do to a stranger what he did to his own father, intentionally or not. He can't remember. It doesn’t matter. It changes nothing.

Stan is stuck. He knows, logically, he could just make up an excuse and escape, but he doesn’t want to. Soos feels - it's not safe. No one is safe. But he feels harmless and he's a good distraction. As long as Stan focuses on Soos won’t have to think about anything else.

“Hey, Soos.”

"Yeah?"

“I don’t think we’ll find my father here. He probably left town already. So, eh, can I just come with you?” Stan fiddles with his hands. They always look wrong. Always a finger short. “It’s to look for my dad of course. I’ll be gone before you know it. I promise I won’t be a bother and I can help out with things! I’m good at following orders and I-”

“Dude! Dude! Say no more. I’ve so gotchu. We’re totally the same. I’m also looking for my dad.”

“What?”

At Stan's befuddled expression Soos picks up the briefcase he's been carrying around and sits now next to Stan.

“You see, my dad left as well when I was little. Littler than you even and I’ve always wanted to meet him, but he never came. All I got were some postcards.”

Soos opens the briefcase and pulls out a card. Stan ignores it in favour of staring at the rest of the content in the case. Holy shit. That's a lot of money. Soos continues undeterred.

“Well, it’s always been my dream to play catch with my dad and I almost gave up on it but then I got this!”

Soos hands Stan a plain looking card.

“Son, 

I’m in a bit of a pickle and I could really use some help. Meet me at this address and bring 50 grand with you. You’re the best, champ.

Love, Dad.”

Stan stares at the card. Then back to Soos. Then back at the card. 

“You know this is a scam, right?” Stan waves the card in front of Soos who, stands up, grabs it and puts it back in without meeting Stan’s eyes.

“Perhaps,” Soos mutters. “But I still gotta try. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I mean I had my Abulita and she was great, but it wasn’t the same. And now she’s in heaven and I’ve got no one else left besides him. Maybe he needs the money for a fresh start and will come back home with me!”

Soos sniffles and rubs his eyes. “So yeah. Maybe it’s not the smartest thing to do, but I have to try.”

Stan hugs his knees and is quiet for a long moment.

“In my experience, money is the only thing that will make a dad like you, so it might work out after all.”

Stan peeks at Soos but it looks like his attempt at comforting the man failed. He looks even more heartbroken than before. 

***

Despite Stan's failure Soos agrees to take Stan with him and even suggests their dads might be at the same place. Who knows. They could be part of a secret run away dad club and play a very long and drawn out game of hide and seek.

Stan manages to muster up a smile at the suggestion and helps Soos pack their things. Not that they have much to begin with. Most of Soos things are still in the car and Stan suddenly becomes acutely aware that he still only has the clothes on his back with him. He’ll need to find a way to steal some while Soos isn't looking.

They’re about to leave when Soos spots something in the corner of the room and moves to pick it up. It’s the knife.

“Here you go. We almost forgot it. Be careful not to lose it. You never know when it might come in handy!”

“Thanks…”

Stan almost tosses the knife out right then and there, but instead he puts it back into his pocket. Soos is right. He should stay vigilant.

***

The next couple of days pass by like a dream. Most of the time in the car is spent playing silly word games and arguing about music. Apparently Stan has the taste of an old man. Which is ridiculous. He just prefers the classics, which are classics for a reason! They won’t be forgotten in two weeks like Soos top 20 hits.

[When was the last time Stan listened to music just because he can? How come he’s feeling so strongly about it? Music should be just a way to attract customers and nothing else. Certainly not fun. STOP HUMMING BOY]

At some point the car breaks down and Soos has Stan help him with the repairs. He makes a show of opening the hood and explaining what he’s doing. 

It’s awkward and the nervous energy Soos gives off as he keeps checking if Stan is still listening puts him on edge.

He briefly wonders if Soos is trying to place a bomb inside, but then he holds the tools out to Stan and asks him to give it a go.

Confused about the whole thing Stan does as instructed and finds himself grinning as the engine roars back to life.

“Well done!” Soos cheers and holds his palm out into the air. “Up top!”

Stan blicks and lightly taps the hand in a high six, blushing at the praise.

Soos throws an arm around Stan and guides him back into the car.

Maybe this isn’t a dream. Maybe the last three years were just a bad nightmare and he’s actually been travelling with Soos and having the time of his life, while Ford is off studying weird stuff with Grunkle Dipper.

So Stan pretends he’s just on a fun extended road trip with his friend Soos. It’s great! They eat all the junk food they can get their hands on, sing loudly to bad songs, stay up and sleep as long as they want to and visit every bad tourist trap they come across.

Those are Stan's favourites! The attractions are clearly fake and nonsensical but also the best things Stans ever seen!

Some are just a normal object but big while others try a bit harder to keep your attention with fake curiosities and stories.

There even was one Tax Education Center and Fun Park where you learned everything about the history of taxes and how to file them correctly. Or how to avoid them, if you’re like Stan and know how to read between the lines. 

Eventually, Stan managed to piss off another kid hellbent on becoming the most esteemed IRS agent the nation has ever seen. 

The fist fight that ensued will be retold for generations to come! 

Or at least got them both a lifelong ban from the museum. Stan forgot how much fun fighting was when the opponent is not double your size and responsible for your basic needs.

He leaves the kid with a short “See ya!” and starts running as the kid shouts after him in rage.

“I won’t let you get away with this, Steve Pinington! Mark my words! THIS ISN’T OVER!”

Stan is full on belly laughing when he meets up with Soos.

“Made a new friend?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Stan grins through his split lip. That felt amazing.

***

“Here Soos look!” Stan exclaimes as he shows off his fake abominations that he made out of junk from a nearby trash can.

This tourist trap thing is easy!

He gives Soos the grand tour around the little stand he built on the car and makes up fantastical and true stories of wonder and mystery about the items and tops it all off with the little broken toaster he found. He gave the toaster some cardboard eyes and legs that move with the help of hidden strings and voilà!

The Footbot 9000!

It even talks! Stan’s bad attempt at ventriloquism earns him some snorts and a wonderous “Woah, mommy mommy it speaks!” from the little toddler at the front of the crowd.

Wait. When did that happen? Where did all the people come from?

Stan looks around in alarm and finds Soos farther in the back watching him with glistening eyes. Is Soos crying?

Stan needs to get out of here but there's no good opening and then clapping starts courtesy of Soos.

With no escape in sight Stan takes a bow and thanks his audience.

“How much for the Footbot?” The mother of the toddler asks.

“30 Bucks.”

“10”

“20”

“Deal.”

One firm handshake later and Stan is the proud new owner of a crumpled 20 dollar bill with more to come as more suckers have already shown interest in some of the other junk he put out.

In the back there are people whispering and pointing at Stan. He better hurry up and get out of here before he gets them kicked out of town for selling broken toasters and literal trash.

***

“You know I think I’ll open my own tourist trap in the future” Stan says and takes another bite of his burger. “That was fun.”

“You were amazing! I was totally entranced by your wondrous tales of mystery. You’re like a genius at this, dude!”

A genius? Him? Stan’s not a genius.

Then agaaain. Ford is supposed to be a genius and he wouldn’t be able to put on a show like this.

A giggle escapes him and he kicks his legs under the table.

He can’t wait to tell Sixer and see his dumbfounded expression. Stan the genius. HA! That'll show him for staying home and missing out on the road trip of a lifetime!

***

Stan hands over the money he’s earned as soon as they arrive at the motel. Stan did so well today. He’s still giddy about it.

He found himself a plan for the future, made money AND got praised. The day couldn’t have gone better.

It’s almost a shame he has to go to sleep. But alas. Them's the rules. With a quiet hum under his breath Stan starts to get ready but is stopped by Soos, who is still holding the money.

“What’s up?”

“You don’t need to give me this.” Soos looks pained. 

“I don’t understand. What else am I supposed to do with it? The room has already been paid…”

“No, little dude. You can keep it for yourself. Your company is payment enough.”

Stan shakes his head. This isn’t right. Soos is taking care of things so Soos gets to keep all the money Stan makes. It’s only fair.

“No! You keep it. I don’t want it” 

“It’s fine dude here” Soos takes Stan’s hand and pries it open trying to return the bills. They fumble around and Soos won’t let go forcing it back into Stan’s hands. Stan can’t have the money! It isn’t right. But Soos is stronger than him and refuses to let it go.

“It’s yours. I don’t want it!” Stan repeats, runs to the bathroom and turns on the shower to cancel the noise from the outside.”

Stan needs to pay Soos back for taking care of him. He already wasted so much money on Stan. On food and clothes and sightseeing. Oh. Oh no. Was the money not enough? That's why he didn’t want it, right? It was basically an insult. Here I give you two drops of water back so forgive me for tuning the ocean into a desert and wasting it all on me.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door. Stan flinches with every bang. 

BANG

BANG

BANG

“Just come in!” Stan shouts to make the noise stop.

The shower turns off and in the absence of water pouring down on him he becomes acutely aware of the wet clothes sticking to his body, dragging him down.

Soos wraps him in a towel.

“I’m sorry dude for pushing. I’ll keep the money for now and we’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Stan nods and hopes later never comes. 

Soos gets him a change of clothes, helps him dry up and guides him to bed. Stan lets it all happen. He’s too tired to think and following orders is easier. More familiar. 

Stan falls asleep to a comforting hand stroking his hair.

***

Life is great! Stan decides as he jumps out of bed the next morning with renewed vigor. Yesterday evening was just a bad dream and he’s ready for a bright new day.

Who knew food, sleep and good company was all you needed to be happy?

Soos throws him an odd look before leaving to get them some breakfast.

Stan shrugs it off and turns on the TV. Soos is a weird guy so weird looks aren’t out of the ordinary.

He flips through the channels not looking for something particular. It’s been a while since he last had time to sit down and watch something.

He’s about to give up and do something else when the picture on the news is stopping him dead in his tracks.

It's him. It's Stan. 

15 year old Stanley Pines wanted for questioning in relation to the murder case of Filbrick Pines. The authorities ask the public to be vigilant as he is suspected to be armed and dangerous.

There's even a reward out for tips leading to his whereabouts.

The world around him shatters.

His little game of make belief turns into shards cutting into him and leaving nothing but sharp and cold reality behind.

Just what the hell has Stan been doing?

A fun road trip? Making plans for the future? Is he actually insane?

He fucking killed his dad. Let him bleed to death on the kitchen floor as he just watched in silence.

Exactly like he planned to do to Soos.

There is no future for Stanley Pines. Or Steve Pinington. Or any other name he’s going to come up with in order to trick people into liking him for a short while.

The moment Soos finds out what Stan has done it will all be over. Soos will be just like the rest of his family and see Stan for what he really is. A rotten and selfish child. A murderer. Someone not deserving of the love and care Soos showed him.

Maybe he can trick him into believing it’s some other child on the news. Soos is pretty naive sometimes. He could make it work!

Stan shakes his head. 

No. Stan is done pretending.. Eventually someone.will recognize him and then Soos will be in trouble as well for harbouring a criminal.

Steps in the hallway. No time to think. Stan needs to escape. Now!

He puts on his shoes, grabs the jacket and Soos’ briefcase and sprints out of the door.

If the money goes to waste on a good for nothing criminal anyway it might as well go to Stan instead. Really he's doing Soos a favour.

Someone runs after him but Stan is faster.

“Dude, wait! It’s alright, don’t go. Stan, STANLEY WAIT!

Stan is already out of town before he realises that Soos called him by his real name.

To be continued

This was supposed to be just a quick summary or a couple of bullet points about how Stan and Soos could become family in this AU.

And it was also supposed to be a bit more unserious and ha ha, so what if Stan tried to constantly kill Soos and couldn’t get rid of him. But it turned out quite different and not as bullet pointy as I set out to do.

I’m still a little bit in denial about that. But Stan is in denial for most of this as well. So it fits.

I wanted to completely finish it before posting but that’s gonna take too long and I've got no time. So for now have a sad ending for the sad relativity falls AU.

Don’t worry though. It will have a very sweet happy end. With lots of comfort. Maybe.

But for now let's all imagine Stan once again all alone and on the run :D

[thicctails]

The River | PART 1 | Jurassic Sap Hole AU

Sometimes, in nature, a parent will abandon or kill their young. Usually, this is because they know something is wrong, and that the young has a very low chance of survival. Two hatchlings with abnormally bright coats are magnets for predators, especially since one is sickly and lethargic. Surely it would be more merciful to end things quickly, rather than wait for the inevitable, right?

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

*TW*

Hello!!! I absolutely love platonic yanderes with teenage reader so can I ask for a fic where the teen!reader is basically a traumatized being. They have experienced hell throughout their life from mental abuse to physical abuse. Like I mean, they have gotten in many dangerous situations which ended up with police involved (kidnapped, assaulted, murder attempt). Ofc the reader never really did anything wrong, they were just an innocent child till everything went downhill. They don't have any family members left leading them to stay at an orphanage. Anddd you could say the orphanage people aren't the nicest. And their mental health has become so fucked up that they had attempted suicide.

You don't have to do this if ur uncomfortable ofc. Sorry about how triggering the request might be

On the roof

Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Cast x GN! Teen! Traumatized! Reader

Description: You are on the rooftop in the middle of the night.

Trigger warning: Suicide attempt. Abuse. Child abuse. Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted murder.

List of Suicide hotline numbers can be found here and here.

Warning: One swear word. English is my second language.

__________________________________

You silently opened the door, that leads to the roof of an orphanage. With your phone in hand, you take a few steps forward.

The door closed behind you.

You just stand here. You were silent.

You were here. You wanted to end this.

You sighed and looked around.

Should you just... Go to the edge and jump? It's not like someone would care about you.

You didn't bother with the last note.

No one would care about the reason.

You will simply become a name in documents.

You just wanted to be heard.

You mindlessly looked at your phone.

Should you take it with you?

Or left it here, so someone else would use it?

Your gaze stopped at the "BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan" icon. Will the new owner delete it? Or will continue your progress?

You tapped on the icon. You didn't leave a note.

Yet, you "talked" to BSD Characters so often, that it seems right, to let them hear your last words.

Your reasons.

You opened the Main Menu and choose 'Meeting Hall' option.

The picture of ADA Office appeared. And Chibis of all BSD Characters appeared.

This new option was cute. You liked petting chibis.

All chibis 'looked' at you.

And you finally spoke.

"Mom was strange..."

________

Your mom was strange.

She smelled funny. Like water everyone told you not to drink.

Sometimes, she stared at you. Stared for a long time.

And there were rules.

1. Don't cry.

2. Don't annoy mom.

3. You eat last.

4. If you stayed past curfew, you will sleep outside.

5. Don't tell anyone about your home life.

At least, she let you play outside as much as you want. Mom liked, when you were away from home.

*******

You were five, when you got kidnapped.

That night, you wake up to get some water.

Mom saw you.

In her eyes, you broke a rule.

You were sleeping outside.

One moment you were trying to get comfortable under the porch.

Next moment a man in a mask was dragging you in a van.

Three days.

You were in a dark, scary place for three days.

On a third day you heard two men talking.

"What do you mean, that mother didn't realize, that kid were missing?!"

_____

"Still... Mom paid the ransom. Kidnappers left me. It takes three more days for police to find me..."

____

You were standing near a police officer. And your mom finally arrived to the police station to collect you.

You walked to her, your head was low.

She hit you.

You screamed.

You collapsed on the floor, and your mother bent over you. She hissed and pushed you in the side with her feet.

"Are you satisfied, brat? Get up and go pack your belongings, we’re moving to a shed."

"You should treat your kid more kindly..." the officer grumbled. Your mother squealed.

"Kindly?! This brat had ruined my whole life!” Your mom was mad. She screamed like a fury, jumped in place and gave cowering you blow after blow. You didn’t try to dodge. You just trembled, curled up into a ball.

"Hubby ran away as soon as he gets it inside me! But dear relatives didn’t let me throw it away. They didn’t let me give it to an orphanage! They said that I need to raise this child! They stood up for a little bastard! But now, when I need to pay debt, they are nowhere to be found! They say I play cards too much! I'm just unlucky! Things are not going my way! The house is mortgaged! I poured all my savings into the last card game and won! I would pay off all my debts! And because of this thing, I now have to live in a shed! What will I tell my family now?! What will others say about me?!"

Officer heard enough.

The CPS were called.

_______

"... They were trying to find my father... Until then, grandmother and grandfather agreed to took me in..."

_______

You were six.

Your grandfather sat on the opposite side of the table.

Your textbook and notebook were laying on the table before you.

And your grandfather was talking.

"I finished checking your homework. As I expected, you are a little idiot. A stupid, worthless waste of space. You have made few stupid mistakes. You wrote numbers in a wrong order.

Grandfather opened your notebook. A red paste was covering the page.

2 + 1 = 3 1 + 2 = 3

3 + 1 = 4. 1 + 3 = 4

"So..." Grandfather take a ruler.

"Give me your hand. It will be ten hits for every wrong number."

________

"...it took two year to find my father. He had a family. And I... I was a child from affair. They never let me live it down... For years"

_______

You were nine.

The blow, when it came, took all of your air out of your lungs. You would have fallen if not for your two... "siblings" holding you.

"It feels good, giving a good beating to a dirtbag, right?"

The next hit was in your left eye. You managed to close it in time.

But it will be swollen.

You felt hot breath on your face.

"Your hair is too good for a bastard child."

Your sister brought the scissors up to your hair.

Snip, snip, snip. Cutting right alongside the scalp, sending your hair like leaves swirling to the ground.

Then scissors were plunged into your stomach.

"Die, child of a dirty whore."

______

"...Police was called. They were arrested. But I remained with father and his wife..."

_____

You were twelve.

You were going food shopping. Big bags were heavy, you were tried.

You still need to clean up the house and make dinner.

When you were attacked, because someone tied to rob you, you didn't even care.

You only knew, that, you will be beaten again for being late. And for losing food.

You were long past gone. There were no point in carrying about yourself.

~~~~~~

You were thirteen.

Your father, his wife and you were going to the funeral.

Your father's uncle died.

Now he only has his wife and kids. And you.

He noticed your gaze in a reflection.

He yelled at you for staring.

And he crashed.

You spent three hours in a broken car.

You were the only survivor.

_______

"... I was sent to an orphanage. I am too old to have any chance to be adopted. And I wasn't the only one, who had no chance to have a family..."

______

You tasted dirt and blood. An old rug was thrown over your head, to make it harder for you to fight back.

Someone pressed a knee on the back of your neck and held your face against the ground.

A kick in the side made you roll on your back.

Another person began to push down on your neck with an arm.

You began to struggle, thrashing about with your legs and beating them against the floor, but it was no good.

There were other kids around—at least a dozen of them. One of them would do something. One of them was sure to see that things were taking too far. Your vision began to go fuzzy.

Caretakers saved you only because the noise didn't let them watch TV.

________

"I couldn't take it anymore. I... thank you... Thank you for making me happy... For being the only happy thing in my life."

You finished talking and put your phone on the ground. You stand up and walked towards the edge.

You heard a loud noise. You turned around.

BSD Characters were standing behind you. Real.

And you were still standing near the edge. You were silent. Nikolai lift his overcoat and put his hand into the portal.

His head reappeared near you. You jumped away. Now you were even closer to the edge.

"No... I... I don't want to... Don't come closer..." whispered you. You took another step. You were almost here.

"[Y/N], if you go back, I will give you a hug!"

You froze and turned around.

Kenji Miyazawa made a step forward. He opened his arms, offering a hug.

"I promise, I will give you a hug. Come here... You really need a hug."

You trembled. You moved towards Kenji.

Step. After step. After step.

Kenji was standing here. Offering a hug.

You launched yourself forward, wrapping your arms around Kenji. He immediately hugged you back.

You cried. For the first time in years.

In a few minutes, you were in a middle of a large group hug.

________

You are fifteen.

You are living with your family.

You still have a long path to recovery.

And you are not alone.

BSD Cast will stay with you.

And will make sure, that you will never be hurt again.

[drinkinboilingcoffee]

I do stick by my William-caring-for-his-kids-very-deeply-in-a-messed-up-way, but I also think he tried to kill one of them at some point I will elaborate later

[areiacannaid]

Declination

I have finally been able to finish this short story inspired by this prompt/story idea from nilswolf8 where Halt joins Morgarath. Here is the final chapter.

Previous chapters

Read on AO3

Chapter 4

Halt hadn’t wanted to send him on this mission, he’d said that Will wasn’t ready for it—that he was too young. It was something which, at the time, had rankled, stung. He was fifteen now; old enough and well-trained enough to handle himself. It had made Will more determined than ever to prove that he could complete what would be his first solo mission, and complete it well. But now, with the agonizing clarity that so often came with hindsight, he had started to wonder if Halt had been right. Things had gone far worse than he could have possibly imagined and now he had no idea what he would do.

Restless energy lent itself to his muscles as he found himself pacing the length of the safe house, trying to shove aside the sense of panic that built steadily within him as the minutes passed. Gilan was supposed to meet him here after he finished his own mission, but he was already hours late. Will worried at his lower lip as he found himself wishing for and dreading his brother’s arrival. After all, Gilan, like Halt, always seemed to know what to do. But, at the same time, explaining to him just how badly he had failed, wasn’t an appealing prospect. 

The coded knock sounded suddenly on the door, shattering the eerie quiet of the room. Will finally stopped pacing, letting out his breath as he unlocked and opened the door, moving aside so Gilan could enter.

“Where have you been?” The words tore from Will’s throat with much more force and anger than he’d intended.

Gilan tilted his head to consider him a moment, eyes narrowed, before a slow smile spread across his face.

“Out,” he said finally, stepping past Will, the sarcasm in the words contradicting the smile.

Will rolled his eyes in response, despite the pounding in his heart that constricted his chest. There had been no malice in Gilan’s reply, he knew. There never was. He watched as his brother headed to the back of the room to place down his supplies. The twisted feeling in his stomach couldn’t bear the silence anymore and so he drew breath to speak, an effort that was stymied by the realization he had no idea where to begin or what to even say. He was gathering himself to try again when Gilan beat him to it.

“Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” he asked Will quietly without turning around. It was as if he was somehow privy to Will’s thoughts or, perhaps, he had merely read Will’s expression when he came in.

“Yes,” Will admitted softly.

“Are you alright?”

“For now, but not for long.”

Gilan did turn then, calculating gaze seeking answers as much as asking for them.

“I killed Morgarath’s men. The ones sent to assassinate the Courier and her apprentice.”

One eyebrow rose at that announcement.

“Why?”

The question was curious, not accusing. Gilan didn’t seem to care much that Will had just admitted to the cold-blooded murder of their allies, but he did want to know why Will had made such a glaring tactical error.

“I couldn’t let them kill her, kill either of them!”

“The Courier and her apprentice?” Gilan asked blankly, eyebrow still raised.

Will could only nod.

“Again, why?”

“I had to get close to them both for my mission: to get into Baron Arlad’s court. And I… I love her, Gilan, the Courier’s apprentice—Alyss. I couldn’t let her die.”

Gilan searched his face as if looking for there to be some sort of punchline to this. But, when he realized there was none, that Will was serious, the other eyebrow went up to join the first. He grinned, closing the distance between them.

“I have to say, I’m happy for you Will, but you certainly picked the worst way possible to fall in love.”

“This is serious, Gil!” Will protested, put out, and more than a little frustrated by his brother’s casual attitude. “Did you not hear what I said about killing Morgarath’s men?”

Gilan merely shrugged. “If they’re all dead they can hardly go informing Morgarath of what you did. It was risky, but not irreparable. We can come up with a cover story.” He began, but stopped as he became aware of Will’s expression. He narrowed his eyes. “They are all dead, aren’t they?”

“One may have gotten away.”

Gilan blinked at him, disbelieving.

Will felt a flush of anger. “The fight got a little complicated and, at the end, I had to choose between saving Alyss or killing the last man!” He took a breath, hands trembling, before adding in a small voice. “I don’t know what to do, Gilan.”

For a brief moment, Will saw his own fear reflected in his brother’s eyes and now entirely serious face.

“Morgarath won’t tolerate treason. And if you run, you know he’ll do whatever it takes to hunt you down. Revenge seems to give him a certain… pleasure.” He made a crude gesture not bothering to hide the sneer that curled that last word.

“I know,” Will said, holding his head in his hands. “He’ll never stop trying to kill me.”

“Unless you're already dead. I’ll report to Morgarath that I saw what happened after the guard fled, report that I killed you for your treason, and then completed your assassination mission for you. It will give you and the Couriers the chance to run, disappear.”

~x~X~x~

Halt made no sound as wove through the shadowed wood to the small cabin that served as their safehouse in this area of the Kingdom. He moved with the shadows of the clouds overhead so that he seemed to weave fluidly around the patches of silver moonlight. He was, for all intents and purposes, invisible to any eyes that might be watching. 

Hearing the sound of urgent voices coming from inside the cabin, he didn’t head towards the door but instead to the windows. They had only shutters and a latch to close against the chill of the night. They weren’t very well made and sound carried clearly through them.

He froze to listen and was just in time to be made aware of everything about the results of Will’s mission. But in light of everything that had happened, that outcome seemed almost trivial. Or, rather, like another log to be added to an inexorable bonfire. 

His old adage of always expecting something to go wrong in order to avoid disappointment had clearly been far too conservative of a saying. If this situation taught him anything, it was that he should have expected absolutely everything possible to go wrong all at once. 

Biting back something that was half a sigh of exasperation, and half a breath to calm a racing heart, he reached up to silently undo the latch of the cabin’s unlit back room window and slip inside.

 “So we’re set on the plan then?” Gilan’s voice carried to him as he stood in the shadow of the back room's door jam. “We will fake your death and I will report it to Morgarath.” 

“There’s only one problem with that,” Halt interposed his voice into their conversation, causing both of them to wheel around, more with surprise than fear, he knew. He was pretty certain that, even distracted as his two apprentices had been, there were very few people who could sneak up on them, of which Halt was one. 

“Halt!” Will said as he and Gilan both turned to face their mentor.

One glance at his students showed that neither had expected Halt to be here. After all, he was supposed to have still been at Morgarath’s stronghold.

“I’m sorry, Halt,” Will said, realizing a little belatedly that his mentor had obviously heard everything.

Halt’s steely gaze flicked away from Will when Gilan found his voice, caught on the substance of what their mentor had said first.

“Why can’t I fake Will’s death? It’s too late to stop the man who escaped, and I won’t let Will be hunted down for Morgarath’s pride.”     

Halt let out his breath, his arms uncrossing to hang loosely at his sides.

“It won’t work because Morgarath will sooner kill you than listen, Gilan. He found out about Malcolm’s little rebellion and it won’t be long until he finds out that you both were helping him.”

Though it hadn’t seemed possible, Will’s expression shuddered even further at that announcement.  

“Helping?” Gilan asked innocently.

Halt glared, not falling for it. “Yes, helping. Malcolm told me about your little project.”

“He did?”

“Apparently, he was under the misapprehension that I already knew about it. What he’s been doing: taking up the guise of Malkallam, stirring up the populace against Morgarath. That was never going to end well.  It turns out he was betrayed by someone he trusted, someone who was completely loyal to Morgarath. It won’t be long until it comes out that you two helped him: gave false reports to Morgarath about his movements to protect him. What were you both thinking?” He demanded.

“I was thinking that Malcolm is family,” Will admitted stubbornly.  

And Halt couldn’t argue the point. Will was right. As the years had passed, the bird-like healer had grown very close to them. 

“He needed help. I couldn’t just not help him.” 

For as long as they had known him, Malcolm had been the equivalent of a slave, captured and forced to serve at Morgarth’s whims. Halt knew that had never sat well with his two apprentices. All told, it really should not have come as a surprise that Will and Gilan had risked themselves to help him when Malcolm had managed to set himself up as Malkallam, rebellion leader among the suffering peasantry in Morgarath’s lands. Halt felt the anger slowly drain from him as he thought it. Though it just as quickly sparked again as he swung his gaze towards Gilan.  

“And I suppose that’s the same reason you decided to move past simply currying favor with the soldiers and the army?” He demanded, words scathing.

Halt saw Will shoot a confused glance between himself and Gilan. Halt knew Will was well aware that Gilan was often sent by Morgarath to lead his troops. Gilan was skilled at it, and the soldiers respected him—likely far more than they respected most of the other commanders like Foldar who cared nothing for their men’s safety and would stay behind, protected, during battle while they threw away the lives of their own men. Will, however, clearly didn’t see what Halt was upset about until he spoke again.

“I know it was you who got word to the 8th infantry and helped them escape.”

Will’s eyes widened, then widened further still when Gilan didn’t deny it. 

“I served with them for years. Their reward for those years of service and being among the most elite of Morgarath’s troops was a false accusation of treason followed by the guarantee of a painful death. And it was all for no other reason than Morgarath’s pride and paranoia at their strength.” Gilan was silent a moment before he looked Halt in the eyes. “The truth is, Morgarath was right to be paranoid—and now the 8th are indebted to me. And they aren’t the only ones. I’ve made connections and curried favor with several of the top divisions.”

“Did you ever stop to consider doing that was treason?” Halt demanded angrily.

Gilan looked genuinely confused by Halt’s fury, confused and frustrated. 

“I thought that was what you wanted me to do?”

Halt’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You thought I wanted you to stage a military coup?”

“You can’t have expected that I would ever actually be loyal to Morgarath.” Gilan looked almost offended by the mere notion. “Especially not when you told me yourself that you weren’t loyal to him either—that you were just using him to get what you wanted.” The shadow of a vicious smile twisted his lips as he leaned forward. “Well, I wanted something too.” 

Halt felt his blood run cold, a horrible twisting sensation racing across his scars to settle in his chest. He couldn’t believe his ears. “You would betray our position here, everything we have worked for, for the sake of the Kingdom?”

Gilan’s eyebrows rose in surprised incredulity before drawing downward in anger. He shook his head adamantly.  

“I don’t care about the Kingdom and its politics; I care about us! Growing up with King Oswald, I saw nothing much better than Morgarath and we have suffered because of it. Training under you, I realized that the only way that we can truly stay safe and free from the wars, whims, and powerplay of others is to be the ones in power. And what about the people like us, those caught up in this and left to suffer and try to stay alive while other people play games with their lives?” 

Gilan hadn’t raised his voice but Halt felt himself flinch as if he had. Truth had a bite sharper even than hatred. It was something that had been whispering in the corners of his own mind, a whisper that had grown steadily louder as the years passed by. But now that it had been given voice, it was chilling. 

How many of those innocents ruled by Morgarath and King Duncan had loved ones they cared about as much as Halt cared about his apprentices? How many of those people had been like his little sister Caitlyn, who just wanted to live in peace and carve out some small measure of happiness from the world? 

Caitlyn had cared about people… so had Crowley. Halt closed his eyes as another truth rang in his mind…. He had started to care again too. As the years passed, he had slowly started to realize that not every person was a potential threat… and that there were things worth protecting—things far more precious than his own survival and safety. 

Gilan shook his head softly. “I wanted it all to stop, Halt. I’ve been moving pieces to that end ever since I was given my first command. But if the game is up for me as well before I could finish it, then so be it. Will and I will run together.”

“No.” Halt said firmly, stepping forward and placing a hand on each of his students’ shoulders and squeezing gently. “We will do what we can to help Malcolm and then we will all run together. Morgarath no longer has anything to offer me that I would value more than I value the two of you.”

They couldn’t defect to the Kingdom, that much was certain. People like them, ones who had served the enemy for so long would never truly be trusted. Once a traitor, always a traitor after all. Besides that, Halt had no desire to put himself at the service of a King—none of them would ever be worth trusting. 

But if they left the country entirely it would do nothing to solve the problems of the people here. They would have to try something different, and Halt thought then that they might just have the connections they might need to do so. They had the network for gathering information he and Will had set up in King Duncan’s land. They also had the networks that Gilan and Malcolm had set up in Morgarath’s lands. 

~x~X~x~

Crowley urged Cropper down the wooded path, coaxing as much speed from the little horse as he dared, considering the low light of the late hour. His mission was of some urgency after all. He needed to get to Baron Douglass of Highcliff Fief before first light if at all possible. The plea the Baron had sent to the King was nothing short of an emergency. If it was wholly accurate, it could spell disaster for the Kingdom as a whole. 

Baron Douglass was many things, but he’d never been one for undue panic or exaggeration. This was why he, and King Duncan, had decided it would be safest to respond immediately. Duncan had already mobilized a small force and they were only a day behind Crowley. His task had been to ride ahead and provide any necessary immediate assistance and gather all the necessary intel to send back to the army so they would be fully ready when they arrived. 

His mouth set itself in a grim line at the thought. Things had been relatively stable for the past year and he had no desire to return to the chaos and near constant warfare of the many years before. And this news was akin to an ill omen, boding its inevitable return. 

It had seemed for a while that they were on the back foot against Morgarath. Defeat had been all but guaranteed. All they had been doing was staving off the inevitable—something Crowley had been more than willing to do… up to his last breath. But then, things began to change. Morgarath’s kingdom had begun to destabilize, piece by piece. It had started with the peasants' Rebellion in Morgarath’s lands, and then with the disbanding and would-be execution of the 8th infantry. 

The 8th were of Morgaraths most elite troops. They, along with their commander, were the only unit in Morgarath’s army that had earned his grudging respect for their skill, discipline, intelligent tactics, and shocking lack of brutal, cruel, or dishonorable conduct when compared to any other of Morgarath’s divisions or commanders. He supposed that might well be the reason Morgarath had wanted to get rid of them. However, the 8th infantry escaped Morgarath’s judgment and had, along with some more disgruntled troops, joined the peasant uprising. This left Morgarath to fight a war on two fronts, from within and without.

But the change wasn’t just in Morgarath’s lands, it was in the King’s lands too. For them, however, it wasn’t destabilization but its opposite. Key generals of Morgarath’s had been taken out before or during battles. There had been destructive raids on enemy encampments and supply trains undertaken that they had not been a party to. There had been advanced warnings of attacks and plans given, along with the foiling of several assassination attempts. The few reports given back to him of those who had done it were vague, nothing more than rumors of a ‘hooded man’.  

And not everything had been on a large scale either. He’d heard more vague reports of people being helped or saved by a ‘hooded man’ all over the King's land and even Morgarath’s. After looking at the reports of these incidents, their locations, and timing, Crowley had come to the conclusion that this… vigilante… for lack of a better word, could not be one man alone, but rather two or three men working under the guise of the ‘hooded man’ to the same end. 

It could be that the ‘hooded man’ had started as one individual and the others were copycats. However, their actions and movements were too professional, consistent, and organized for that to be the case. To what ends the ‘hooded man’, or rather 'men', were operating, he was not yet certain. And that unsettled him almost as deeply as the means behind them. To have access to the amount of intelligence needed to pull all that off suggested an information and informant network that would rival that of the Rangers and Couriers combined. And that was a terrifying prospect. His only solace was that they did not seem to be currently acting against the interest of the Kingdom. 

He was pulled from his thoughts by a warning rumble from Cropper, some scent or sound causing the little horse to warn of potential danger. Alert now, his eyes were able to pick out the obstacle of several fallen trees and branches spanning the length of the highway ahead. A trap. He pulled Cropper to an immediate stop, turning his head to his left even as he began to wheel the little horse in that direction. 

Even amateur roadside bandits would know that most warriors were right-handed, and so they would give themselves an advantage to approach from the left, where a defender would have to wheel or reach awkwardly across to defend. They likely would try to block his retreat as well. 

Sure enough, he caught sight of movement from the left and behind. Crowley had an arrow knocked and aimed at the closest shadowed figure on his left, letting his arrow fly even as Cropper pivoted gracefully around. This gave him a larger view of the area. That was when he saw it. They weren’t just coming from the left and from behind, they were coming from all sides and there were far more of them than he had anticipated. Even in the moonlight, he could see that they were also far better armed and armored than any average highwayman group had any right to be. 

These men were soldiers. Crowley’s next arrow felled another man and he had only just enough time to roll from his horse’s saddle in order to avoid the quarrel flung towards him from one of the three crossbowmen he could make out. He fell and heard the bolt hum past his ear. He hit the ground in a recovery roll and rose smoothly into a crouch, another arrow drawn aimed, and fired at his enemies, first to one side of the road and then the other. The crossbowman fell along with a swordsman. 

That was when reflective defense gave way to grim understanding. Even with a Ranger’s speed and accuracy, he knew there were too many, and he had no cover. Another bolt whizzed past his face, opening a gash across his cheek in its flight. Cropper reared and kicked in a desperate attempt to protect his master from the approaching men, but it wasn’t enough. Crowley set his teeth then, determined that if this was going to be his end, his attackers would pay dearly for it. 

Then suddenly, several of the men nearest him fell in quick succession. He could see the glisten of a broadhead arrow protruding from one of the bodies, along with the clothyard shaft from a longbow—vastly distinct from the short quarrels of his adversaries. 

It gave Crowley the space and breath he needed to rally, and move to some cover. He once more aimed and shot at blinding speed. The unseen archer that had come to his aid was dropping as many enemies as quickly as he did, if not quicker. Ranger-level shooting, his mind supplied. And it was exemplary Ranger-level shooting at that.

From behind their respective cover, he and his ally were able to take on the last of the soldiers until the clearing was once again silent. Hearing and seeing nothing of the strange ally that had come to his aid, he was about to open his mouth to address the night at large when a voice spoke first. 

“Baron Douglass of Highcliff Fief is working for Morgarath—has been for some years now, in secret.”

Crowley easily pinpointed the voice’s location in the dark, turning swiftly in that direction, bow still partially drawn for the sake of caution. Having honestly expected one of the voices of his Rangers, he was taken a little aback. The voice did strike a chord in his memory, but not enough to belong to one of the men he’d been working closely with and leading for the past 10 years. 

As he watched, he saw a figure slowly melt into view, once again unsettlingly Ranger-like in his movements. His right hand was raised in a gesture of peace, his left hand still clutching his strung longbow. His shape was reminiscent of a Ranger as well. His ally was a cloaked and hooded man… perhaps one of the ‘hooded men’. 

“Morgarath’s been getting pretty desperate lately. And all this was his idea of a trap… an assassination attempt.”

“Damn near successful too,” Crowley said with some feeling before adding, the thanks apparent in his words, “if not for you.”  

The hooded man offered a nod of acknowledgment. Despite Crowley’s genuine gratitude at the man's intervention, there was something about him that whispered in warning in the back of his mind. It was something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Something wasn’t right. But he had precious little time to dwell on it as the man turned to make his leave. 

“How did you find out about this? Do you have any proof of what you said about Douglass and Morgarath?” he asked then, his words stopping the man’s planned retreat. 

The hooded man stopped, offering only a shrug as he turned back around to face him.

“Who else knew that you’d be on the road this late?” he asked eventually instead of answering. “These were clearly no simple highwaymen. If it's physical evidence you need, you might find it if you search the bodies for correspondence, or got a confession from one who is still alive.”

The man’s voice was quiet, the barest edge of a Hibernian burr lilting the words in a way that was… so familiar. That was when it hit him; the recognition caused a pit to open up in his stomach even as an old pain flared up near his heart.

The hooded man, the one who had been destabilizing Morgarath’s holdings, aided the kingdom, and assisted the peasantry on both sides of the war. Crowley knew him. His fingers flexed on his bow, undecided whether or not to draw it further back. This man was his enemy… but he had not always been. This man had wreaked havoc on the King's land… but he had also just saved Crowley’s life. 

“Halt,” he said, the name coming out tight with a painful mix of emotions he could not hold back.

“Crowley,” came the quiet reply, his words thick with an emotion of his own.

A soft breeze rustled the forest branches overhead as they faced each other, a question unanswered riding with the breath of the wind.

[suit0rs-and-t3l3]

why does Eurymachus hate physical contact?

He has a love/hate relationship with physical touch.

TW! Abuse and alcohol in this writing will be present but I will be trying to keep it as VAGUE as possible.

Eurymachus grew up in a VERY wealthy family. He had 5 older sisters one of which was his twin sister Endora (who is older by 27 minutes (they argue about it all the time.))

His 3 eldest sisters Asphodel, Evanna and Evania (twins) (ironic name meanings btw) and their father, a high ranking man in army’s and tactics as a younger man, Ryna. Were very physically abusive towards him. Shoving him down stairs, hitting him in the head and basically, beating him black and blue as a child.

It was to the point that before Troy, he was beaten so harshly he couldn’t physically fight due to a whipping and attempt on his life (that he still is yet to tell who tried it.)

His mother and other sisters Calista and his twin Endora were very physically affectionate (NOT IN A WEIRD WAY BEFORE YOU SAY SOMETHING). Hugs, cuddling, dancing, and more.

His father put that show on along with his sisters. They will be switchy. One day nightmares that would harm and others, the next, kindest of family ever.

That’s why eurymachus has a golden tooth. Because his father tried to buy his way to him after knocking his fucking tooth out. (Yall actually believe he got into a fight… crazy..)

He actually turned to alcohol from a young age due to it. (Making his slightly an alcoholic.)

His flirtation comes from his mother, Charis being a cheater and using her looks to get what she wanted.

[quietwingsinthesky]

(@transmasc-rose) Can we be mean to my friend Amy Pond? I'm not picky, follow your heart here.

hey remember when s6 happened and amy was in the world's worst position possible. so like what if we actually took that as the horror story it was.

She wakes up screaming so loud that she doesn't hear her daughter being born.

They let Amy near her crib. They don't let Amy hold her, but they don't tell her not to. It's about can't. It's about Amy having laid still as Snow White in the glass coffin for nine months while a child she didn't want took all the meager life they pumped into her. It's about her thin arms and thin legs and the fact that she can't even stand on her own. She can't hold her daughter.

She leans over the crib. The first time, she cringes back. The second time, she forces out the first name that comes to mind. "Melody," she says, "Melody." She's not sure, really, if she's naming her child or wishing for her friend to show up, like magic. Amy has wished things into existence before. She tries to do it again, barely pausing for breath as she lets the words fall onto the baby. A story as war waged, words as artillery, the Last Centurion and the Doctor and the girl who waits and waits and waits but is always saved. Melody Pond doesn't understand what she's saying. The nonsense sounds bounce off her child, as useless as smoke.

No one comes.

Amy waits.

No one comes.

Amy doesn't feed Melody. Her body won't allow it.

No one comes.

Strangers hold her daughter more than she does.

No one comes.

They are going to take Melody away. Amy tries to cry about it.

No one comes.

Not for the first time, Amy tries to kill her daughter. This attempt is in her crib, smothering, merciful. The Doctor isn't here, and if he was, what judgment could he pass when the children of Gallifrey follow him in silent droves? This child that came out of her, this child that was made using her, this child that she didn't want—this is the only way Amy knows how to save her.

They stop Amy, of course. Melody cries. She's still crying when they take her away.

The Doctor finally comes, guns blazing, eight months, ten days, and three hours late.

[helpfandom]

Platonic yandere dad riddler (2004) as daughter reader

Riddler is quite the interesting character, since this version would be more apprehensive to a mean reader, so reader would have to be more of the nicer variety.

Perhaps Reader was one of the few that recognized him as the scientist E. Nygma, but weren't apprehensive for him being a criminal. Someone you knew was in that Gotham University and you met him before, and then you met him. He was interested in seeing if you had an aptitude for puzzles or logic like him. Even if his darling doesn't, he's sure to be able to teach you!

He's already been shown to be tech-smart, so he would most definitely watch you through cameras and the like, watching how you treat people and see who he needs to take out since they can't teach you the right way. Teachers are the ones mostly taken out by him.

After the events of Riddler's Revenge, he would kill people by trapping them in the storage containers much like the one he was trapped in with Batman.

Speaking of Batman.

Riddler would take extra care for his obsessions with you never to be found out, and what I mean by that is that he leaves the most amount of clues without meaning too. Of course, Batman is quite perceptive of this and realizes, especially since Robin mentioned you before. He remembers Robin telling him something about a classmate who keeps finding puzzles in their locker...

Batman quickly finds out and is quick to ask Robin to watch over you just slightly, "just make sure that they {Reader}, don't accept the puzzles."

Riddler's offended if you throw them away, and when he sees that Robin is persuading you to toss them... Well. Not even Mr. Freeze could ice his wrath.

He tries to kill Robin.

So anyway, after the Boy Wonder and the Furry stop him from icing the 'brat', he goes to you and asks why you let that insufferable BRAT manipulate you into throwing away his gifts. When he realizes that you don't know he existed / was obsessed with you, he kidnaps you.

Honestly, he doesn't understand, he's a lil' delulu but we love him.

He wouldn't be like BTAS! Riddler because he wouldn't let you have the chance to escape, although he enjoys the thought of testing your mind, he doesn't want to give Batman the chance to hurt you / take you away from him.

"C'mon Adolescent, I can't let you go outside, for you see, the Batman is lurking around trying to capture you away from me."

[waywardtyrantpirate]

Tw: attempted murder, hospitals, psychosis,

Everytime my mother has attempted to murder me it feels like I've been born of blood again. It's hard to explain. I feel like I'm dead but not really dead. Idk. Maybe it's just the psychosis but it really does feel like that. Like I'm not "human" anymore. Or not really. This w/ all the other near death experiences that I've had just feel like they keep piling up.

Ugh!!! Does anybody else feel this way???

[winters-many-muses]

Angst headcanons for Vibe? 👀✨ (yeah, I wanna cry)

( are you sure about this )

tw child abuse mentions and attempted murder mentions

( Vibe tends to drown out his negative emotions, he hates crying, it makes him feel vulnerable and weak and he doesn’t like those feelings, it just reminds him of how powerless he was as a child.

The problem is he has no healthy coping mechanisms to deal with said bottled emotions, eventually the bottle breaks and he’s a torrent of negative emotions, which can make him emotionally/mentally uncontrollable, paired with his powers at its strongest becoming physically uncontrollable and he basically becomes a walking death trap.

He’s never taken a life before but he has seriously hurt some close to him because of that and that guilt sticks with him.

He always, always flinches at knives. It doesn’t matter if they’re not even being directly pointed at him, he will flinch back, even if he really trusts the person behind it.

His mother tried to kill him with a knife several times and that has left an impact on him. It means against villains who use knives, he’s always at a bit of a mental disadvantage

He’s also ashamed of his body. Particularly his torso. It’s extremely scarred due to the abuse he faced from both bio mother and some bad foster homes he was in.

He hides it all behind bandages though so if he ever takes off his shirt around his classmates to change, all they see is bandages. It leads to a lot of concern that he’s usually quick to try to defuse, he doesn’t want to worry them. )

[bitchapalooza]

Urrrrrrgh I love exploring characters using dark themes, it’s fuuuun (context to my last post so I don’t look insane)

[worst-mother-throwdown]

BRACKET 1

Round 2

TW: manipulation, kidnapping, child abuse, attempted murder, sexual abuse, rape

The Other Mother propaganda

Cordelia propaganda

[aby55-of-the-ab5o1ute]

my baby.. is probably dead..

what do I do..

first time pregnant and.. dead...

fuck.. persecutors... fuck them..

they tried to kill my baby.