was he going to kill him

not to be dramatic but this titanic-era leo dicaprio kid appealing to the female audience not just with the aforementioned description but also with his sweet innocence and castiel-like qualities is so wild for a show in its THIRTEENTH season. two episodes in, and i’m already thinking how they’re going to incorporate jack as a main character for the next thirteen seasons. how they’ll try to kill him off but inevitably they can’t bc the fandom has fallen too hard in love with him. how they’ll have to reduce his power bc he’ll make everything too easy for the winchesters. jack, and the actor who plays him, is a game changer the likes of which we haven’t seen since season four. 

anonymous asked:

I wonder if Dark's neck is broken and his magic keeps it from getting worse. Maybe thats why Dark does the neck thing. Damien said did say that our body (now Dark's) is broken and we did fall from the stairs while looking up . . Now I'm just imagining Dr. Iplier doing a check up on Dark only to find his neck broken and maybe a few other things as well.

((Now, I have a few of my own wonderances for this that are different, but then you went and mentioned my doctor boy and damn it I like the way you think, mysterious configuration of being. Did you intend for this to become a thing? Because it is now. And sorry this took so long. It wasn’t quite turning out the way I wanted it to - in fact, I think it’s a god awful mess - but I hope you enjoy anyway!))

Warnings: Minor Graphic Detail, Mild Blood

It had started when Dark felt something move up into his lungs. It had been subtle, ignorable, and there had been no pain, not that something like him could feel any such physicalities anymore, so he had let it go in favor of getting on with his day. There had been much to do, idiots to manage, and the awareness had completely faded into the ether when there had been yet another kitchen fire that he personally had to see to.

And there the notion remained, until a cough brought it right back.

It was nothing; just something thoughtless, knee-jerk, and while he didn’t cough often if ever, it was still very ignorable. It twinged, like an itch from the inside, but a single, quiet cough was more than enough to alleviate the feeling once more. He didn’t have time for it. If King left one more peanut butter covered pinecone in the ceiling again, he was going to kick the pseudo monarch out for good. And Artiplier too for teaching that to him.    

But it as the day wore on, so too did the coughing become more common. He kept it subtle, having to mindfully push the feeling down now, because goddamn it Wilford had let Silver leap off another building again while he filmed it and, while the injuries this time were trivial, he was going to break something again, if he didn’t just outright kill himself next time and - are you even listening Wilford?

The pastel being had been giving him a strange look the entire time during his tirade and, at first he had chalked it up to the flippant man not listening as per usual, but it was only now in the irritated silence that he could hear exactly what was wrong.

Dark had been coughing the entire time.  

Suddenly, the itch was back with a vengeance, and he wasn’t sure when he had turned away with his mouth in his hands, racking coughs shaking his entire form, but there he was, hunched over with his back to Wilford as he desperately tried to get it under control. He felt a steadying hand on his back, heard his name called a few times in obvious concern, but his ears were filled with a high pitched ring that grew and cancelled all other noise until, with pop he felt more than heard, something within him finally gave. He choked suddenly, nearly gagging, as he felt something solid move up his throat to land sharply his tongue. It tasted sweet and smokey.

And metallic.

It took a short time and after a few seconds of aftershocks, his form stilled as the urge finally faded away. As the ringing died down, he could finally hear Wilford ask about his health again with a level of concern he hadn’t heard in ages from him, but, for the time being Dark could only ignore it, taking a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and spitting into it. He only saw for a moment before he pinched the cloth closed, hiding the object and everything that came with it from Wilford. But it had been more than enough for he himself to notice one very concerning detail.  

Everything had been red.

He straightened up, quickly pressing the kerchief into his breast pocket in a single subtle movement as he fixed his suit - giving his neck a quick readjust as well - before sparing Wilford a glance and a few words of comfort as he excused himself. He could see out the corner of his eye as Wilford looked like he wanted to persist, but Dark was out of sight before the pink ego could get out another word.

And it was here and now he found himself in the doctor’s office, perched upon the man’s own rolling stool instead of one of the many available beds - Wilford may have been content to let his legs dangle like a child, but Dark refused to be so undignified - waiting as the doctor looked over the proffered cloth with a scrutinizing eye. He was hemming and hawing and it was beginning to irk the already rather keyed-up demon, but before Dark could offer the physician a single chance to shut up or else, the doctor turned around to face him with an interesting level of curiosity in his eyes.

“Well?” Dark prompted, hands folded over his crossed knees, his posture stiff as it usually was, even if the reasons weren’t the same.

“I’d say this is part of a bullet,” The doctor offered in return, holding the now clean piece out to him in a pair of surgical tweezers. It was chalky grey in color. “This came out of you?”

“I don’t supposed I’d be here if it didn’t,” Dark quipped back flatly, but his interest had been piqued. A bullet fragment? When had he been…

Oh. Right.

“Fair enough. Who had the mettle to shoot you anyway? Was it Wilford?” The question was flippant, joking even, though with an undertone of implication because honestly the doctor had seen that particular instance more often than not, but it still hit Dark like an open palmed slap to the face. He could already feel the memories stirring, some of which did not even belong to him, and it took everything within him not to let his shell crack in that particular moment because if it did, he knew the consequences would be far more dire than with what had become the normal variety.

However, in a multitude of seconds that felt like an eternity, Dark managed to quell the feelings and disguise them as a single, solitary, disinterested sigh. At least, he hoped it came across that way.    

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I suppose not,” The doctor relented, either ignoring or oblivious to Dark’s pause as his attention returned to the lead fragment. Ignorance really was bliss. “But it obviously didn’t happen recently. See the flaky grey on the surface here? It’s started to corrode, which only happens after a long time exposure to types of alkali which doesn’t really - ”

“Correct,” Dark interrupted curtly, not at all interested in a chemistry lesson. “It wasn’t recent, but why is it happening now?”

Dr. Iplier shrugged, looking mildly put off for being interrupted, but true to his apathetic nature he let it go and pressed on. “Sometimes things just remain unmoved inside the body for years. I’d imagine it may have just been close by and, for whatever reason, just didn’t show itself until now. More to the concerning point, there are probably more in you that you aren’t aware of. Would you permit an x-ray?”

Now there was a question Dark hadn’t prepared himself for. It seemed absurd that he was thrown by such a simple request, and yet he couldn’t help balking about it all the same. What would be captured on that photo? What could be captured on that photo? He couldn’t afford to end the doctor if something more than what was currently happening turned up. The physician was quite the invaluable resource after all, especially for his blatant disregard of prying details. But all the same, it would be handy to know if this could potentially happen again, especially in front of others.

Especially in front of Will.

And it was with that argument that the demon finally begrudgingly agreed.

It was a surprisingly quick process and Dark was back in the stolen chair sans suit jacket and tie after just a few minutes. And it was only a few more before the doctor was shoving two freshly printed sheets of film into place on the light board before flicking the switch to illuminate them.

Now that was quite a sight. Seeing a set of bones and organs that he knew he himself had shaped was a curious thing, especially with the previous wonderance that, while his outward appearance may have taken appropriate form, his inward one may not have. And while he realized this was a silly contradiction, it had still held concern in his mind for a secret that nobody else could ever know about. Thankfully though, this didn’t seem to be the case.

But ever more curious were the lit up white spots speckled throughout his abdomen, and he couldn’t help but stare. He counted at least five, and none as big as the one that had so rudely extricated itself from him earlier. They didn’t even seem to be near anything necessarily vital either.

Not that that fact mattered anymore really.

So absorbed was he that he didn’t notice the doctor turn to him with a new level of concern, and Dark most probably would have continued to disregard him had he not made a rather urgent and out of place sounding request.

“Turn around,” The doctor demanded suddenly, his face taking on a panicky sort of grimness.

“Pardon?” Dark returned, surprised to find himself lost. That didn’t happen often.

“Turn around,” Dr. Iplier said more slowly, but with no less urgency than before. “I need to see your neck.”

“Whatever for?” Dark had an inkling exactly what for.    

“See this vertebra here?” The doctor impatiently poked his finger into the very top of the second x-ray, right next to his neck and that’s when Dark saw it. Damn. “That’s supposed to be nestled up to the bottom of your skull. Not to mention all these little white lines running everywhere else are microfractures.”

“And?” Dark asked with an air of disinterest.  

“Dark,” Dr. Iplier beseeched with exasperated concern. “Your neck’s broken.”

There was a beat before the demon responded with a simple and very dry, “Yes, I’m acutely aware.”

“And you’ve just been living this way?” That was a funny way to put it, but Dark refrained from commenting. “What the hell happened to you?”

The silence that followed was filled only with the hum of the x-ray display light.

Now that was a loaded question, and with the doctor looking down at him now with all the concern of a close friend, with almost the same face to match, it was reminding him too much of times he wanted to forget.

Times of when, during late nights at the office, a bespectacled face would just appear at the other end of his desk in the way only he could, wearing a knowing smile and bearing something to eat because he would often forget.

Times when that same face was sad for some unknown reason that just could not be spoken about, so he took it upon himself to cheer the man up with silly antics the same way he did for him.

Times where he would get so angry he would yell at the man just to come back later to apologize only to realize that no offense had been taken in the first place and their friendship was just the same as it had ever been.

… A single time where that face was on the verge of breaking entirely, and Dark could see him now, reaching out as he fell, the words echoing in his ears along with a hauntingly familiar, harsh ring.

Wait, that one wasn’t his.

“It was an accident! I swear!”  

He needed to leave.  

“Nothing that matters anymore,” Dark responded briskly, standing to pick up his coat and tie from the nearby bed and throwing them on with well-practiced grace. “Thank you for your time, doctor.”

“Now hold on a damn minute,” Dr. Iplier stepped forward as if he wanted to grab Dark’s shoulder, but then thought better of it at the last second. “I can’t just let you walk out of here knowing that you could keel over at any given moment.”

“I assure you that that’s no longer a problem.” Dark waved away impatiently, already turning toward the door.

“Your neck though! And all of that uncomfortable twisting I’ve seen you do. Those readjustments can’t be good for you. Aren’t you afraid of waking up one day and being completely paralyzed?”

“I defer to my previous statement.”

The doctor made a frustrated noise. “At least let me take care of the bullet fragments. How you haven’t suffered lead poisoning by now is a miracle.”

Dark sighed, turning back to the physician with a look of impassiveness. He knew the man wasn’t exactly heartless, but Dark honestly hadn’t expected him to be so insistent about his health. “Doctor, your concern is appreciated - truly - but going by that picture, I don’t see anymore near my lungs, so you have my word that it will be fine.”

“And what will happen when it isn’t?” Dr. Iplier fired back. He was implying more than just a health issue and the acknowledgment that Dark actually was a leader in all of this wasn’t missed. 

“Then I suppose I have you to deal with the aftermath,” Dark replied wryly.

Dr. Iplier made a face. Apparently he was the only one allowed to make apathetic jokes in the face of a potential crisis. “That’s not funny. I’m not an EMT, Dark.”

“I have faith in you, doctor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I never finished forbidding Wilford from encouraging acts of tragedy ‘for the sake of the show’ and would like to get back to it before someone else unwittingly winds up in your care.”

Dr. Iplier looked like he wanted to argue his point, but even he knew when to stop pressing - or perhaps that was just the lethargy - and he sighed, the sound heavy and laden with a weariness that Dark was all too familiar with. “Very well. Just… don’t hesitate to come back if any of it bothers you, alright?”

“You have my word.” And with that, Dark strode out with much more on his mind than he had going in. Of course the bullet would still be in there, shattered as it was. He wasn’t sure why it had never occurred to him. Just because his appearance had changed, didn’t mean the body had. It was the same principle as his unhealing neck, even if neither experience had happened to him directly. He was cursed to a nearly broken body that didn’t belong to him, held together with whatever power Celine had used and that void had bestowed upon him, physicalities stuck in a permanent state of stasis.

But he had no time for self pity. He had a building to oversee, and a goal to maintain.  

And as Dark walked purposefully down and out of the hall, he didn’t see the man he was looking for, hiding just out of sight in a nook beside the door, frozen in place with eyes wide and an otherworldly flower clutched to his barely breathing chest.

Wilford had just wanted to check on his friend. To make sure he was okay because never before had Dark’s health ever come into question, and the coughing fit had scared him so much more deeply than anything else had in a very long time. But while he was on the way to barging in, he’d heard his name and then… He’d heard everything else.

His mind swam, memories stirring in the watery depths like ancient beasts, lashing out against him a tirade of blurry and out of order images.  

A gunshot, a choke, a scream that seemed to echo from the very depths of his soul. 

He couldn’t be. He wasn’t.

The flower fell from his trembling fingers.  

He wasn’t a killer… was he?

anonymous asked:

If you're looking for wolfstar prompts could you maybe write a wolfstar raises Harry au? (btw I love your drabbles/fics they're so good)

Harry shrieked happily as he waddled away speedily from his godfather. He chased after the toddler with his hands stretched out. “Gotcha! You’re a fast little fellow, aren’t you Prongslet?” Little Harry struggled against his grip when Sirius’s fiancee, Remus, called out that dinner was ready. He looked up at Sirius who looked back down at him. “Race you.” Sirius said. Harry sped off ahead of him, Sirius feigning slowness. “Oh, so close! You’re going to make a great Quidditch player some day.” He told his godson as he lifted him up onto his shoulder.

“What’s Quidditch?” Little Harry asked.

“Why don’t you explain it to him while you help me set the table?” Remus asked, handing his fiancee some plates.

“Of course, darling.” He put the plates out and set Harry down on a chair. His head just made it above the table. Remus smiled softly at the boy, then to Sirius. They sat down and ate together, Harry telling his Uncles about his day.

They day came when Remus and Sirius got married. The wedding was quite small, but perfect all the same. It was even more perfect when Harry came bouncing down the aisle, holding the rings on a red velvet pillow. He was smiling so brightly and giggled when Remus ruffled his hair.

Before they knew it, they were in Diagon Alley shopping for Harry’s school supplies. They walked into Madam Malkin’s where Sirius immediately spotted white blonde hair. “Oh no, not a Malfoy. We should come back later.” He began to pulled Remus away when Harry bounced up to the stool right next to the boy. Sirius started after him, but Remus held him back.

Keep reading

All my kids are dumb

Context: Our DM decided to mod an adult white dragon for us to fight. Our party is level 4. We had an NPC wizard with us who was pretty useless (Nicknamed ‘dumb child #2’ because I had to lead him around by his hand and because our fighter is ‘dumb child #1’ and you’ll see why)After entering it’s lair and meeting it we were sure we’d die so, being a bard and having a crazy high charisma, I sweet talked the dragon and we all left. But just before we did…

Fighter: I want to stealth around the dragon and see if there’s anything good.
Me, the bard with common sense: *Hissing* NO YOU DON’T!
DM: The door is now shut and your fighter is locked in the room with the dragon.
Me: Fuck.
Fighter: Can I roll to stealth out of the room?
DM: I mean…the dragon is looking at the door so…
Me: If that’s the case, knowing how dumb he is and knowing he’s still in there potentially being BBQed, I’m going to open it slightly and inspire him with a song to help him escape.
DM: Okay, what song did you want to sing?
Me: F is for friends who do stuff together, U is for you fucked up, N is for no one will recognize your cooooorpse when the dragon burns your ass up!
Table: *Loses it*
Fighter: *Rolls* Okay, did I make it?
DM: Despite the rousing song, the dragon is still staring at the door. So no.

Long story short, we killed the dragon with me providing support and healing and our paladin basically demolishing the dragon with the help of our fighter, ranger and Druid. It. Was. Epic.

At the next game, I’m going to stipulate that the fighter must hold my hand whenever we go into dangerous situations from now on.

Let’s talk about Dean and Jack.

So, Dean knows that Jack thought of Cas as a father. But Dean also knows two things about Jack. 1) “His Connection to him got Cas killed.” Although Dean blames himself for not saving Cas, he also sees Cas going off with Jack and getting involved in the whole mess as the reason Cas is dead. Which relates to number 2) Jack is the Son of the Man that Killed Cas.

This is another way that Sam and Dean’s grief and relationship to Cas are being differentiated. In Jack Sam sees himself - destined for birth for Lucifer/evil and unable to control his power. Dean just sees a constant reminder of the person he loved and lost.

A list of reasons why I despise Obadiah Stane

Because sometimes a single para isn’t enough.

1. He has (in canon) manipulated Howard Stark into terrible decisions, taking advantage of his low points and alienating him from more trustworthy friends.

2. He uses Tony’s father and father-related issues as a tool to guilt him into things.

3. He took Tony’s creations, his company, and used it to profit from things that not only destroyed Tony’s soul but also killed countless innocent people. I understand that war always kills the innocent and weapons always do the same but irresponsible dealing of it, giving it in the wrong hands is one or actually ten steps higher because there is no accountability to it. 

4. The Afghanistan kidnapping didn’t just affect Tony, it also killed soldiers. 

5. He has been conning a man who trusts him for life. If he has been conning Howard, then he must have begun conning Tony as a kid/teen. Manipulating a 17-year-old kid who lost his parents. 

6. That scene where he sees the arc reactor on Tony and buttons him up. As someone who has had people use physical affection or casual touches to lull into safety, this is incredibly devious let me tell you. This is your trusted person, your friend or family using your most intimate vulnerability against you. This is them feeding your brain with the thought that those touches mean trust, mean affection, and when you finally realize the lie, your brain doesn’t know how to adjust to the new feedback. It leaves a long-term scar.

7. He used Rhodey against Tony. In IM we see Tony guessing that Rhodey told Obadiah about the reactor. Rhodey is Tony’s best friend, his sole friend from a time when he wasn’t a CEO of a successful company. He knows things about Tony that most people don’t. Obadiah used Rhodey by taking out a crucial information from him and later using that against Tony. I’ll let you imagine the effect of this on Rhodey. 

8. He tried to use Pepper too. That scene between Stane and Pepper is intense because Pepper knows that he’s manipulating her, knows that he’s still trying to get people on his side and see Tony as unstable. He was going to use the Oh I Try But You Know How Tony Is card and use Pepper as a pawn. When that didn’t work, he tried to get her killed. 

9. He made Tony watch as he ripped his heart out of his chest. 

10. He used Howard as a tool even then, comparing the man to Tony and destroying him emotionally as well as physically.

11. He made sure that Tony thought of him as family, as a father figure. There is this line by Raymond Holt of B99 that I always think when I see father figures: “No, I wouldn’t say lucky. I feel bad for this kid. I mean, what kind of father cares so little for his son that he lets him get away with everything?”. This is what people do when they really care about you. Tony was spiraling, was probably spiraling ever since his parents’ death, but Obadiah encouraged it. He nudged him into more of it while teaching him to put on masks. He put Tony between thinking of him as a pseudo-father and pushing him into a space where Tony would be just enough self-destructive to want to push his limits so that he can prove he feels alive. Just enough to get Obadiah’s work done and then let Tony fall, let the world see the spiraling Tony so that they saw Obadiah as the one who was sensible, accountable. He shattered any chance of Tony being better till Tony got to get away from him and came face to face with a reality that didn’t have Obadiah (in Afghanistan). 

So, yes, Stane was bad for trying to kill Tony but he did a lot more than just that and it is important we remember that because people like him, manipulative people like him exist. They exist and they do more damage than people can see. 

Anti Hero (pt. 9)

Part 8

Host gets off the phone with Oliver and sighs. So it’s confirmed, then. The Host rises from his desk in the library and grabs his cane, hesitating a moment to gather his wits before turning to the door. Moments later, the Author is roused from reading by the Host’s gentle knocking. Author opens the door to find Host standing with both hands resting on his cane and frowning solemnly. “We need to talk.”

Author snorts, “Alright, mom.”

Host raises his cane from the floor and says firmly, “The Author has done something very foolish. He has threatened the safety of the Host’s friends,” Host takes a step forward, forcing the Author back, “and he has done it for purely selfish reasons.”

Author continues to back away as the false sunlight coming in through the windows illumines the golden streak in the Host’s hair like its glowing. “I…”

“The Author is going to give up this foolish venture, release Antisepticeye from his control, and agree to never use his abilities in such a way again.” Host backs the Author up to a wall in the cabin and sets his cane down again. “Or else.”

The Author smirks and grabs a pen from the table beside him. “Or else what?”

The Host sighs, knowing that this won’t be easy. “Or else the Host will be forced to use more violent means of persuasion.”

“Well, then,” Author says, “persuade me.”


“So, you see, the Author may be targeting you. It’s advisable that you prepare for an attack of some kind, but I believe in the Host’s ability to take care of this himself.” Oliver smiles at the gathered Septic Egos as they stare at him in disbelief.

“You mean, Anti’s not going to kill us?” Marvin asks after a moment of pause.

“No,” Ollie insists. “He’s just as scared as you are, more so even. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Jackie mutters to himself, but Ollie’s ears pick it up.

The droid’s eyes flash yellow. “He’s just been through something terrible! I know about your past with him, but he’s tried very hard to move on from that!”

Chase takes a step forward. “As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, Ollie, Anti isn’t welcome here anymore. We just…”

“We never want what happened to Schneep to happen again.” Jackie’s eyes start to glow green. “And I’ll protect the others if I have to.”

Oliver glares at Jackie and sets his jaw. “Believe me, you won’t have to.” And he storms back up the stairs to the attic just as Anti screams.


The Author and the Host tear through reality. Appearing in the library, the roof of Ego Inc., and eventually, Anti’s attic. They crash through a rip in the air and the smell of ozone and burning hair follows them as words fly between them as potent and stinging as poison darts.

Anti glitches out of the way as Author narrates a bookshelf down on top of the Host, but the Host drops through the floor as if it were made of water and reappears a few feet away from a swarm of butterflies, muttering to himself all the while. Author scribbles on his skin as he goes, using whatever surface he can find to write his victory against the Host. When he sees Anti, he reaches for the strings and pulls with all his might, and the glitch is dragged along.

“Antisepticeye draws his knife and plunges it into the Host’s heart,” Author screams even as he carves the words onto the underside of his arm, drawing traces of blood.

The Host tries to stop it, but Anti is too fast. He won’t be able to turn the blade around in time. But at the last moment, a streak of red tackles Anti to the ground and wrestles him for the knife. Host senses Oliver knock the blade aside and pin Anti to the floor as he continues to scream bloody murder while the Author’s magic weakens Anti’s sanity bit by bit.

Next the Author reaches for Oliver himself, and the droid raises his glowing yellow eyes to the Host at the Author’s command. Host knows he can’t hurt Oliver, and he can’t overpower the Author either. He has to do something now, something fast, something drastic. So he takes a breath, and he speaks.

“The Host takes the Author’s eyes.”

Apart from the blatant parallel to Sam’s powers and Dean’s forced promise to kill him if he goes dark side, I don’t think we’re going to see Dean actually kill Jack? Why are people flipping out so much? 

His first instinct was to take the knife out of Jack’s hands… he’s in a terrible condition right now and doesn’t trust anyone or anything, but his gut reaction is still to help. Dean’s just not in a good place right now. 

octoberwisdom10  asked:

I adored what you had to say on how some adjustments in meaning really change how Kokichi comes across in the English version of V3. REALLY important question: Kokichi hates murder. So what was his motivation for the events of the chapter four trial? What are the circumstances of his decisions? He clearly established himself as someone who walks the line, but is there a difference for him between having a line and killing, going against one of his core values? Was he testing the game? What's up?

So many Chapter 4 questions, so little time. Thankfully, it’s one of my favorite chapters in any DR game so I don’t mind talking about it at all!

I hope it’s okay if I answer all of these in one big post! I get a lot of questions about Chapter 4 specifically (as you can see) and I thought it’d be best if I try to address all the points in common that these questions have. I’ll try to hit the main points, which are: “Why did Ouma get two people killed if he’s morally against murder?”, “Why didn’t Ouma let everyone vote wrong in the trial and get them all killed to put them out of their misery?”, and “Was Ouma’s reaction just before Gonta’s execution genuine or not?”

I’ve written quite a few pieces of meta with regards to Chapter 4 in the past, the most recent of which might help clear up the first of these points (and a little bit of the second)! The post is here, if anyone’s curious.

In any case, I’ll try to make this my big “what went down in Chapter 4” post, but I will be discussing spoilers for Chapters 5 and 6 as well, so anyone who hasn’t reached the second half of the game should only read if they’re okay with that.

Keep reading

Sometimes I just like to think about everything Jake and Amy have been through as a couple. Some highlights include:

- Kicking things off by killing a man

- Jake risking being demoted but realizing that Amy’s worth it

- Losing Holt’s dog and almost burning down his house

- Amy chilling out in jail with a murderer

- Jake going into witness protection in Florida

- Amy actually having to shoot Jake

- Jake making sure that Amy took that sergeant’s exam, even though that meant him being promoted above her

- Jake being jailed across the country for a crime he didn’t commit

Ya know, just the typical relationship stuff.

Another Lonely Night

Dark approached Wilford several times.

Only once did he ever show any form of memory towards what they went through. And that reaction was not something Dark intended.

In a way, it made Dark happy. It made him happy that his friend did not have to remember and endure the pain like he did.

But in another way it hurt him that no one could know. No one should have known. None of them needed to go through or even hear about that fateful day.

When everyone discovered, Dark hated the pity. He hated the fact that they all stared at him like a three legged dog.

Every so often he would be asked, “Are you okay?” And he would roll his eyes and continue onward. The truth was, Dark had not been asked that question in a very long time. The truth was that there once existed a time where he was so desperate to speak about the events, he attempted to approach Wilford.

Warfstache was in his room doing who-knows-what, when Dark slowly opened the door.

“Hm? Who is it?” He said as he turned towards the door. His eyes popped open much wider the minute he saw who was standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Wil.” Dark whispered. No one would notice it, but the rings under his eyes had become more defined, and his aura flickered just a tad more than usual.

“What do ya’ want?” Wilford groaned. He was tired of taking orders.

“I would like to see you in my office, actually.” Dark used his tone to his advantage, making himself sound powerful and fierce.

Wilford looked like a student who had just been busted for a class prank.

He looked around the room desperately as if there was someone else there to blame.

Me?” He pointed a finger towards his chest.

Dark gave a nod.

In one swift motion Dark slammed the door shut and headed back into his office.

“What are we doing?!” A voice said through his mouth.

“I don’t know! It just–happened!” A female voice left his throat. His lips did not move.

The door opened.

Wilford walked in with suspicion. He was expecting some form of trap or trick.

Dark recollected himself.

“So uh…. What did you want to talk about?” Wilford checked the chair across from Dark’s desk before he sat down.

“Well, I’m worried about you, Wil.” Dark clasped his hands gently on the desk, “Your bad habits are becoming one of the more dominant features within your behavior,” Dark tilted his head, “I just want to help.”

“Okay,” Wilford was dragged in. He readjusted himself in his chair, making himself comfortable just as he was sure Dark persuaded. “What were you thinking about?”

“Why don’t you try remembering,” Dark’s sly tone began creeping into his voice. “Remember why you do what you do. Remember what caused you to go astray from the path you once walked.”

Wil was convinced for a moment. He sat in a daze as Dark’s voice washed over him like a cold breeze.

Then he snapped out of it.

“Now listen here,” Wilford stood up from the chair, shaking Dark’s voice out of his head. “I can’t let you do that to me,”

Dark was loosing his cool.

“What are you talking about?” Dark’s voice changed. But it wasn’t the deeper, more hypnotic voice. It became a much lighter version of the way he usually spoke. “I just want to reminisce,” He began sounding desperate, clawing at any remains of a broken past that he no longer wished to remember alone. “Like old friends.”

His voice was no longer his own. It was Damien’s.

“Can’t we just talk? We used to go on and on about your trials and tribulations in war, and our experiences, and out loves, and our losses!”

Damien reached.

Wil couldn’t reach that far.

Why can’t you just remember William?!” His hand slammed on the desk. “All I want is for everything I lost to come back to me! I just want this back!”

Wilford stood up with a worried expression on his face.

He was planning on alerting the Googles, but he made a poor attempt of acting casual as he backed away towards the door.

“Wait!” Another voice interrupted.

It was a woman’s.

Dark’s lips hadn’t moved.

Wilford stopped dead in his tracks.

“Who was that?” He felt beads of sweat drip down his forehead.

Celine and Damien were both reaching now, both stretching their arms as far as their bodies would let them.

Their fingertips brushed against Wil’s. They tried to stretch forward even further.

The only problem is that Wilford was not ready to remember.

And he didn’t know if he ever would be.

“I said,” Wilford growled, “Who was that?” His hand reached for his pocket.

Dark’s mouth hung open for a moment.

“It was no one.” He replied calmly, “You probably just heard someone else yelling. You should probably go,” He hesitated for a moment before saying, “And forget about everything we just talked about.”

Dark’s aura flickered a few times.

Damien and Celine pulled their hands away.

Dark lost more of the color in his already grey skin.

This time Wilford let Dark persuade him, merely because he wanted to believe that the familiar but distant voice he just heard was nobody.

“Yeah,” Wilford let his hand hang at his side. “Yeah. You’re probably right,” He chuckled, “Well, I’ll be heading out.”

Dark gave a solemn nod as Wilford headed out the door.

Damien and Celine were forced to spend another lonely night together.

Okay, guys - I know I’m over here rationalizing Dean’s behavior, but please DON’T label that last scene as anything RESEMBLING Daddy Dean. 

Dean is in one of the worst shapes he’s ever been in. He really is. 

But taking a knife out of an unkillable kid’s hands, immediately followed by confirming that yes, he’s going to kill him is NOT parenting. 

anonymous asked:

how much is wilford aware of? does he know what really happened? :3

Honestly, not too much.

Because he kills us, the District Attorney, when he shoots us and we fall off the balcony.  He accepts that fact that he killed us, so at this point he’s most likely still aware.  He still has no clue what happened to Damien and Celine, but he seems to still understand the concept of death and the consequences of his actions.

But then (in his eyes) we get back up, still alive and breathing.  And I think that’s where he mentally breaks and he loses his sanity and awareness.  He just killed us, he had 100% accepted that.  But then we come back alive THAT’S when he starts to think this whole thing was a joke.  He hasn’t really ever killed anyone because hell, he just killed us and we’re still alive.  So in his point of view, he hasn’t done anything wrong.  Death isn’t a permanent thing, nobody actually dies.

He’s unaware of what we go through as the DA.  He doesn’t know of our talk with Damien and Celine, and our decision to trust them and let them into our body.  He just thinks that we are the DA when we come back, and he goes off to find his best friends because they can’t be dead too right?? Death isn’t a real thing, right??

My personal HC is that Dark eventually explains that Damien and Celine are him, a combined entity of his two best friends (and maybe lovers?).  And Wilford loves that because his two favorite people in the world are now fused into one being.  They’re still with him, and they always will be.  Forever.

But in the actual lore, I think he’s always going to have that empty feeling inside because he could never find his two friends.  Maybe he forgets about them as his sanity gradually leaves him, but he’ll always have this uncomfortable hole in his heart.  He can’t explain it, but it leaves him this feeling like he’s missing something incredibly important.  Something he can’t ever get back.  


Okay, this chapter just made me love him even more. This man just doesn’t quit.

Bang, Bang

Darkstache fic, angst, hurt/comfort, guilt, mental breakdowns. (This is also posted on my AO3).

October 13th: the day Mark took everything from them. It’s been a long time, but they’re still struggling to live with the aftermath of what happened.

@mayor-damien-protection-squad (thought I’d tag you here since I’ve seen that you do encourage being tagged in this kind of thing. I hope you don’t mind.)

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When it comes to an increase in the risk of someone committing murder, two previous attempts are a definitive red flag. The killings of 6 year old Daniel and 3 year old Luke Schlemmer were entirely predictable in that regard, as their mother Laurel Schlemmer had already tried to kill the children twice before.

Schlemmer had a long history of psychiatric issues tracing back to the 6th grade, and had made her first attempt on the life of one of her children when she left Daniel, who was 2 years old at the time, locked in a hot car. Police were able to respond before Daniel was harmed, and Schlemmer received a ticket for the infraction.

She would make a far more deliberate attempt on the lives of two of her children 4 years later. She tied up both Daniel and Luke in the drive way, ensuring they were unable to escape, and then backed her car over them multiple times. They were hospitalised with serious injuries, including a fractured pelvis, broken jaw, lacerated liver, damaged pancreas and broken ankle. On examination there were evident tire marks on the children’s abdomen. Schlemmer told the hospital that she hadn’t realised they were playing outside and police ruled the incident as an accident.

Schlemmer had been experiencing a delusion that Daniel and Luke were not normal in some way, and that she could be a better mother to the pair of them if they were in heaven. She had informed her husband that the incident in the driveway had been deliberate, but he did not contact the police. Worryingly, 4 days before Schlemmer succeeded in killing her sons, she rang her husband and told him she was going to turn herself in and confess. Her husband convinced her not to go through with it.

Schlemmer would go on to drown two of her children. She placed both Daniel and Luke face down in the bath tub and sat on them until she thought they were dead. Luke died at the scene, while Daniel managed to survive for four days before succumbing to his injuries. 

Schlemmer was found to be competent to stand trial despite multiple psychiatric hospitalisations, and was eventually found guilty - although determined to be mentally ill - by the court. She was sentenced to 80 years in prison for her crimes. 

Torn Part 13

Originally posted by fy-teenwolf

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Prompt: You’re Parrish’s girlfriend and you catch him getting way too close to Lydia. (whoops)

Pairing: Jordan Parrish x Reader , Lydia Martin x Jordan Parrish, Theo Raeken x Reader


1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12

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anonymous asked:

Eruri for the ship thing???

Who was the one to propose: 
Erwin plans a lowkey proposal, knowing Levi doesn’t like all that flashy romantic shit.

Who stressed more over wedding planning:
These guys? Nah, they both have a pretty good handle on it.

Who decorated the house:
Erwin lets Levi take care of that because he’s so picky.

Who does the cooking:
Whoever gets home first usually starts dinner.

Who is more organized:
Levi, hands down.

Who suggested kids first:
Erwin would probably mention it in passing and Levi would be like “.. yeah, alright.”

Who’s the cuddler:
Neither are very cuddly, but Levi practically wraps himself around Erwin in his sleep.

Who’s the big spoon/little spoon:
Levi is usually the big spoon.

What’s their favorite non-sexual activity:
Going for coffee/tea and people judging watching.

Who comes home drunk at 3am:
Erwin would probably do it a handful of times and Levi would send him to the couch.

Who kills the spiders:
Levi gets the ones he can reach, Erwin gets the ones on the ceiling.

Who falls asleep first:

A headcanon:
Erwin hates cleaning, but if he knows Levi’s had a bad day, he’ll clean up the house to improve his mood.

Their relationship summed up in a gif:

Do they have any “rituals”?
They go grocery shopping on Sundays, come home, open the good wine, and then cook dinner together. 

Who has the most patience?
Erwin, obv.

jakeymckenzie  asked:

Jake x MC 🙈🙉🙊


Who said “I love you” first

JAKE. It’s canon ok.

Plus we all know how he doesn’t care about anyone hearing or seeing him be affectionate with MC and he just does it when he feels like it. About to go on a dangerous mission to kill a sea monster? Kiss MC like there’s no tomorrow. About to go to MASADA? Tell MC “I LOVE YOU.”

P.S. “Oh, to hell with, MC, I love you.” implies that he’s loved MC for a while already and just couldn’t find the right time or the nerve to say it.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background

Both. Especially if they ever get out of La Huerta. They’ve gone through  a hell of a trip where they could die at any moment. Having each other on their phones to look at whenever things get hard is a necessity.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

MC. Little “I love you’s” or a flirty “Lookin’ good, Joker.” Never fails to make Jake smile. 

Who buys the other cheesy gifts

Omg I see Jake doing this at least once and he’s so awkward about it. Like, he’ll do it he doesn’t care what other people think, but he gets a little nervous if MC will like and appreciate it. Of course they do, and he doesn’t let on, but it makes his heart flutter and he can’t help but crack a small smile.

Who initiated the first kiss

MC. Jake’s the kind of guy who initiates when he’s sure there’s something there. In the beginning he was just flirting with MC, but got so flustered when they made a move like hold his hand. MC knew this, so they kissed him first. They didn’t want to end up dying on La Huerta never having made their move yknow?

Who kisses the other awake in the morning

Both definitely. When Jake wakes up before MC, he can’t help but stare at them sometimes. He’ll just prop himself on one arm stroke their hair while staring at them and thinking about how lucky he is that he found MC and that they ended up together. Then he can’t help but start kissing MC all over their face and it wakes them. MC just grins because what’s a better way to wake up??

MC gets silly about it. When they need to wake Jake up cause it’s time to move or go to work or something, they don’t just nudge him and tell him to get up. They straddle him and pepper kisses all over his face and his neck and his chest. The noisy kind of silly kisses where you’re smacking your lips together. Jake is also ticklish around his collarbone which MC gets a KICK out of.

Who starts tickle fights

MC. Usually as payback for some snarky comment. Jake twists and wriggles uncontrollably and MC has a blast. 

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

Both. If you haven’t noticed Jake x MC is a pretty flirty and snarky ship. When the mood strikes and they see the other naked and wet in the shower they can’t help themselves.

“Hey, Princess/Boy Scout, need a hand?” *eyebrow raise and smirk

“I’m probably gonna need more than that, Joker” *eyebrow wiggling intensifies

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch

MC. I have this domestic hc where Jake becomes a mechanic. I bet he loved working on his plane Delilah back in the day, and he’d feel right at home doing something similar. Anyway, MC will cook something delicious that Raj taught them, and they’ll drop by Jake’s work.

“Need a little pick-me-up, Joker? Got some comfort food right here.”

“Oh definitely. I guess the food’s good, too.”

Who was nervous and shy on the first date

Both were a little nervous, but mostly Jake. I picture them trying a “real first date” after La Huerta. Yknow, going to dinner, dressing up a bit. Jake gets nervous because they’ve never done anything like that. How do you do normal??? And he fusses with his hair and his clothes. MC tells him to relax, that it’s still them like back on the island. Then they hand him a beer/whiskey and he calms right down.

Who kills/takes out the spiders

Both. After sabertooth tigers and giant crabs, spiders are nothing.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

MC. Usually while dancing. The gang shakes their head and they’re all embarrased for them. Jake finds it cute though.

Jake does it a bit, too, but he’s quieter about it. Like he’ll sit next to MC and drape his arm around them then just slur it in whispers in their ear.

Send me a ship <3