Part Of Me Wants To Rewatch T Cause I Was On Cold And Flu Medication When I First Watched It So It’s

“I was scared.” (A DBH Oneshot.)

A/N: So I thought I’d write a couple of Connor’s deviancy moments, because who doesn’t want to get into his head? First, the most poignant one.

BANG!

Connor barely had time to register the gunshot in his right shoulder before someone yelled "Take cover!" and the shootout began.

He scrambled up from the ground and dove behind a nearby metal housing unit as Hank slid in beside him, gun drawn but loose in his hand as he assessed the scene. Connor did as well. Calculations were spinning through his head as he tried to preconstruct the best solution. At the rate the officers were firing and the proximity of their shots and the androids’, he had a little more than a minute to intervene. "You have to stop them! If they destroy it, we won't learn anything!" Hank looked at him as if he'd gone totally insane. "We can't save it, it's too late! We'll just get ourselves killed!" He looked back toward the source of the shots. 60% chance of success. Would require 100% accuracy of movements, and the deviant following the most logical pattern of fire, no margin for error. If he slipped or skidded on the snow, if his damaged shoulder slowed him down at all, he'd be shot through the head and they would lose it. 99.9% chance of failure if he stayed, as Hank asked. Even if the android conceded, it’d be shot before a ceasefire was called. The information would be lost, and his mission would be in serious jepordy. He charged, barely registering Hank's fingers closing just behind his arm. Shot incoming, dodge right. Another, dodge left. Duck down. Next shot is coming from above, right again and over the barrier. The deviant hadn't expected this, shock registered on its face. Connor backed it against the wall and, synth skin already retracting, grabbed its arm to connect.

The faint image of a ship's hull, the word "JERICO" against rust.

I have no choice...

I'm sorry...

He knew what the deviant was going to do in the split second before it happened, and for a moment, something strong welled up in him. He didn't want this, no, this was wrong, this was wrong. It was like an error alert in his system, but stronger, almost...

It took the shot. Connor recoiled. Involuntarily, he tried to cry out, but nothing happened, his vocal speakers stayed silent. Everything was silent but the pounding in his head, thumping to the beat of his thirium pump. It was too quiet, everything was moving too fast, and he couldn't see, why couldn't he see? Everything was white, too bright, far too bright. Buzzing. A faint buzzing sound. The buzzing became a voice, and the voice became Hank's voice, muffled and still far away until there was a hand on his arm.

"...you alright?! Connor!" Hank's face, openly concerned, came slowly into focus, but his eyes were glued to the body...to the android. Too still, slumped against the wall with a pool of thirium slowly collecting around the gaping wound in its head. He found his voice, shaking and weak though diagnostics said he was undamaged. "'m okay." "Are you hurt?" "I'm okay," he repeated, trying to shake the unnecessary hesitation from his voice. "Jesus!" Hank leaned back and took a few steps, clearly rattled, and suddenly turned back to him, anger leaking into his voice. "You scared the shit outta me. For fuck's sake, I told you not to move! Why do you never do what I say?" He didn't realize he was leaning against the barrier but he couldn't make himself stand straight. He heard himself talking.

"I was connected to its memory. When it fired...I felt it die." 

Abrupt ending. Nothingness. I'm sorry.

"Like I was dying."

Please, no. Too strong for an error message.  Like pain, he realized. It was like pain. He didn't want it, he couldn't stand it, it was...he was...

"I was scared."

Hank was staring at him, his expression melting from anger into something unreadable, but that was registering at the edge of his awareness. He needed something to focus on, anything. Anything to distract him from this moment. "I saw something, in its memory." He'd almost said "his". "A word, painted on a piece of rusty metal. 'Jerico.'" It was a lead. It was what they had chased him for. This part of the mission was complete, he should be fully focused on finding out what Jerico was, but...

Nothingness. Pain. I'm sorry.

He made himself stand straight, but it was as if his joints were stiff from the cold. That was ridiculous, though, he was built to withstand temperatures far colder than this. No...what was holding him back was...shock. Fear. He was truly afraid. He shouldn't be able to feel anything, his programming was capable of basic emulated responses only, but in that moment... He couldn't let himself think about it.

Deal. (A JSE Ego Drabble)

(A/N: I have zero idea what the actual plot is here, I just wanted to write something dramatic with all of the Septiceye gang. So enjoy some horror nonesense!)

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!" -William Shakespeare, The Tempest

It was far too quiet. Chase was as white as a sheet. He'd been against the idea from the start, the only one among them other than Jack who had a family to get back to, and he didn't want to do anything else to put them at risk. He wrung his hands around his Nerf gun, staring at the door into the recording room from his slumped spot on the floor across the hall. A few yards from him, sitting at the top of the stairs, holding one knee and dangling the other over the top steps, was Jackieboy Man. Jackie was uncomfortable, fidgeting with Sam, throwing them into the air and catching them again. Luckily the eye didn't seem to oppose this. Schneep was pacing, muttering under his breath and checking his supplies every few seconds. No one had to ask why he was so nervous. Dapper and Shawn were leaning against the sides of the door, acting as guards, potentially. Dapper seemed to be the only one not uncomfortable with the reletive silence, but even he was showing signs of distress, mustache twitching every few seconds.

"How long've they been in there?" Schneep shrugged, but it was Jackie who answered. "About twenty minutes." "How much longer does he need?" "He told us he'd knock when he was ready." "Well, what if he's-?!" "Don't, Chase." Schneep's voice was unusually devoid of bravado. "I do not need to hear zat idea. I do not need to hear zat right now." Chase glared at him. "Well someone needs to think about this. If Jack can't do it-" "Chase-" "I'm not gonna back down from this! I've got kids to worry about! If that thing gets lose, if it comes after them like it came after you, I'm not havin' it! I'll kill 'im!" "But...but Chase, you can't..." Jackie trailed off, knowing full well Chase meant what he said, and that he had every right to. Dapper reached over and patted Chase's shoulder, but he jerked away from the touch, making Dap sigh as he stood back up, pulling his pocketwatch out and frowning at it, thinking what all of them were thinking. If it came to that, there was no chance for Robbie, anyway.

Jack hadn't liked the idea, either, and if he was being honest with himself, it scared the hell out of him. But he didn't see any other option. If it was him, he couldn't talk to him, he'd have no control. And Rob had volunteered, as awkwardly and as long as it had taken. "If...me, you c'n...talk. Make him...under...stand." "But he could-" "Could what? Kill...me?" Jack had had to smile at that. It was true, it'd be hard to kill a zombie.

He wasn't sure how it'd worked. A little cut with the knife, a twitch of the eye, a glitch, and Rob grabbing his arm. And now he was watching Anti frown in confusion as he stared at what he generally considered to be himself. "What is this?" It was odd hearing a full sentance come out of Rob's mouth, especially in that voice. "What a-am I? What have you d-done?" His voice seemed to be getting more stable, which seemed to unsettle him further. "Relax. You can stay for as long as it takes to do this." "What have you done?" he repeated, scowling as he looked down at his grey hands and striped shirt, picked up a piece of the purple fringe over his eyes. "Why are you still here?" "Robbie lent us his...services." "He...let me do this?" His eyes narrowed and he grinned suddenly. "You think you can reason with me, don't you? That's why you let him do this." "That's what I hoped, yeah," Jack nodded, leaning against the wall, hoping he looked casual. "Easier to talk with a willin' host?" "So much easier. Fits like a glove." He reached for the knife in Jack's hand, but it was jerked out of his reach. That was when Anti realized he was tied down, to a newly installed ring in the wall. He giggled. "You're funny, Jack. You think you can stop me." "No, not stop. Just...come to an agreement. And we're not total idiots." "Well, in that case," Anti spread his arms wide, grinning insanely. "I'm all ears." "Good." Jack paused. Where to start? What to say? If the others knew what he was planning... "First off, you're not allowed to hurt them. Any of them. Schneep, Chase, Jackie, you leave them alone. And Chase's kids. You're not allowed to hurt anyone." "I'm not allowed?" He laughed again. "How would you stop me?" "How have I always stopped you? You'll always be their villain, Anti, you don't scare me anymore. You can't do anything I don't want you to." "Bullshit." He twitched. "I spent an entire month doing things you didn't want." His tone was mocking, and it made Jack jump at the next shriek. "THEY LOVE ME! THEY LET IT HAPPEN! OVER AND OVER!" "Enough of your stupid catchphrases! Jesus, do you ever shut up? Are you gonna let me finish or not?" He was proud that his voice didn't shake. Anti gestured condescendingly for him to continue. Jack looked at the ground for the next part. "You can't let Signe know what's happening. You can never be in Brighton, nowhere near my family or my friends. I'll go somewhere else, I'll tell Signe I'm visiting someone. Pj said he'd help with that part." Anti seemed to be getting it now. "You're seriously doing this? Do they know what you're doing?" He jerked his head at the door, and the sound it made would've been worrying if his host had been a living person. He thumped his chest. "Does he know what you're doing? Maybe we have more in common that I thought!" "We have nothing in common," Jack said shortly. "You're the one making a deal with the devil," he smirked. "Last thing," Jack persisted. "No one knows it's real, and you're gonna keep it that way. You get one day a year, and little appearances when I give the okay." "So exactly what I've been doing since I got here? But you won't fight me." "And you don't get to hurt anyone." "Jack...I like how you think." His skin crawled as Anti smiled at him. For a second it was as if he was looking at himself, the purple and stripes replaced with flashes of green and black. He steeled himself. "Have we got a deal?" Anti nodded, laughing again. Jack extended his hand, the one not holding the knife. "Then okay. I'll let you in."

Chase jumped to his feet at the same time that Dap and Shawn jumped back from the door, and Jackie's and Schneep's heads whipped around. A knock. Dap was closest to the handle, he turned it and the five of them nearly fell into the room in their rush to get inside. All of them were looking frantically between the two figures, desperate to make sure they were alright. Rob looked shaken, but alright, if, if it was possible, a little paler than usual. Jack looked just the same as he had, a small, sheepish smile on his face. "Hey guys." "By Jesus, Jack, you can't be doin' that to us again!" Shawn yelled angrily. Dap had to be held back from slapping him, pointing aggressively at his watch. "It took longer than I thought, I know, I'm sorry," Jack mumbled, not meeting any of their eyes. Chase frowned. "Jack, dude, you okay? What'd he do?" "He...he agreed. He's not going to hurt anyone." "How?" Schneep demanded, "How did you get him to agree to zis? Vhat haff you done, Sean?" Jack jumped a little at the doctor's use of his real name. None of the egos ever called him that, Schneep must have been royally pissed. But he wasn't suspicious in the way that Chase was. "Nothing! Nothing! We just...talked." "About what?" "It's none of your-" "Of course it's our fucking business," Chase growled, more serious than anyone had seen him since the divorce. "I have kids, Jack. I need to know they'll be safe." Jack looked at him for a long moment, long enough to scare him. And then he looked at the ground and wouldn't look back up. "I promise, Chase. I promise your kids are safe." "That's not-" He stopped himself, took a breath. "Jack...tell me you didn't do anything stupid.” Jack smiled shakily, looking up to finally meet Chase’s eyes. "Aren't I always doing something stupid?"

Chase didn't answer, and he didn't laugh in relief like all the others did. He was the only one who'd seen it, and Jack knew it. That flash of green in his eyes? That was going to haunt him.

What've you done, Jack?

Is that a light? Oh, I can barely see anymore, but it seems to me that the darkness has actually receded. Perhaps something shifted, and it’s day, out there. Perhaps it’s sunlight. That would be nice.

The bugs don’t bother me anymore, which is good news, I suppose. Bad news for my nerves, as even though I can’t feel the bugs anymore, I can’t feel anything else either. But I suppose that’s fine. I’m more comfortable now.

It was worse the first day. The pain from the fall, the broken limbs, the raw throat from screaming. It was unbearable down here, in the dark, and the heat, with the fear. That’s another thing. The fear, the constant, aching fear of the dark and the bugs, and the overarching fear of not being found in time...it’s gone. And I can almost be happy here, in my last moments, I suppose. Once the pain stopped, and the fear, I looked around, for once. The rock is gorgeous, down here, so textured and streaked through with lovely greys and blacks and the occasional reddish brown, if you squinted through the shadow enough. The birds singing overhead were nice while I could hear them, a constant melody from early morning to late evening, sunrise to sunset concerts that I’m glad I was here to appreciate. I can see why the ancient ancestors of humanity wrote endless volumes of poetry dedicated to the beauty of the natural world. It’s very hard for us to slow down long enough to appreciate it. I suppose I’ve slowed to a stop, now. Or...I will, soon enough.

You will, too, soon. I know all of this sounds impossible to you now. Or would, if you could hear me over that silly screaming. Even with my own hearing fading, you’re still awfully loud, friend. I do wish you’d stop and listen. I don’t suppose I thanked you for coming to look for me, yet, did I? Thank you. I would’ve thought that four days after they’d just be looking for a body, wouldn’t they? Glad you wanted to find me alive. Sorry you did. I think they’ll find you, though. If something’s shifted, and that light is sunlight, someone will see you, won’t they? That’s nice.

Oh...it’s flickering. That’s a bit strange for sunlight to do. Flicker, on and off...on and off...and now it’s just...off? Reminds me of a flashlight, flickering like that...flicker, flicker, flicker...and when it flickers off, doesn’t it seem darker? Hahaha...wouldn’t that be just funny? If...if instead of shifting to get more light, something shifted and now we’re even more hidden. Wouldn’t that be just hilarious? Hahaha. That’d mean you won’t ever be found, wouldn’t it? Hahaha. Funny...very, very funny...

((Prompt from the writing.prompts instagram.))

Watching some classic fandom blog names come out of the woodworks when the flames crank up again is like watching vampires waking up after hibernating for centuries.

i love this as a theory! it makes a lot of sense, too. i like the idea that he didn’t intend to blend all of these stories, and that there was supposed to be a linear way to go through, but everything got jumbled together.

I WAS ABOUT TO FALL ASLEEP BUT I JUST HAD A REVELATION

WHAT IF THE REASON WHY EVERYTIME A NEW EGO APPEARS IN THE HEIST, HEIST MARK HAS TO DIE SO ACTOR CAN SWAP ROLES--

He is, an actor after all. Considering that we've already pretty much gotten confirmation on the Markiplier = Actor Mark theory, and Mark does all the other characters himself irl, who says that Actor can't????

On top of that, this only happens in AHWM. In WKM, of course none of the characters have to spontaneously die in order for another to appear. In their original reality, they were seperate people.

But in AHWM, if this is TRULY Actor's game, it's possible this is the only way how to portray different characters and still be the "main character" or center of attention.

(i mean, he might, but its almost 3am im not gonna check, if i contradict anything canon pls tell me)

Another possible explaination is when all the timelines got messed up due to the artifact, all of Actor's stories, in whatevrr strange house wousey upside down he makes them in-- where of course, he plays the lead get intertwined?

A pirate who sails the sea for treasure, A noble heartbreaker adventurer, a remorseful prisoner

These are all stories that more or less focus on ONE Person. One person and the things they do.

And adding onto that, Dark and Wilford don't chase off Actor in some way. Dark simply transitions to a hallway after Actor just, vanishes

and Wilford shows up after you rewind.

Will update in a couple hours, apologies if this is bad or incoherent or stretching it, i am tired and gay and its very late i should be sleep i might do that rn thank u byeee

Not strictly a story, but it’s a show and a channel that I’m running!

Sopranos Wanted!

The Combustible Pasta Studios team is in need of some sopranos for the chorus for the rest of Undertale The (Unauthorized) Musical and future projects!

If you or someone you know would be interested in auditioning and you’re a soprano, please PM me on Discord through the fan server with a short clip of you singing something in your range, preferably Broadway or Disney. Spread the word! I’d love to have some new folks on the team. :D 

The Fan Server: https://discord.gg/d4MVV3F

My tag: @kittycatthang

Ohhhh FUCK I was NOT ready for that “01″ at the start of the timer today.

.....Who the fuck is Harold?

Oh hello haha. You have a lovely blog. Hahahaha

What up demon? I’m curious about you all, but at the same time...concerned...

Alone. (A Who Killed Markiplier Drabble)

The first thing he noticed was that he was in a tremendous amount of pain. His chest was on fire and his head was pounding, it was like every muscle in his body was rebelling against him. His eyes were the only thing that seemed to be working, and all he could see was the domed ceiling and the chandelier above him, oddly tinted and out of focus.

As it came back into focus, he noticed a second problem: he didn’t know who or where he was. Through the blinding pain, there was no name coming, no picture of what he looked like, no friends or family’s faces or names, no fond memories...no memories at all. Just a vague feeling of...dread? Or anger?

He grunted as his arms and legs finally decided to work for him to lift him up, so that he was panting and kneeling on the marble floor. Shaking his head, he looked up, finally trying to guess where he was. His eyes locked with someone else’s.

He was starting backwards, a voice in his head screaming “MURDERER” before he had a chance to think for himself. The other man was on his feet in an instant.

“Oh no, no! It’s okay!”

Colonel. The old title came to him as the man talked about thinking he was dead. Had he been dead? The thought distracted him for a moment so that he lost some of what the man was saying. Surely he wasn’t dead, he was thinking, he was here...and yet...why could he see the Colonel, in front of him, a gun smoking in his right hand? Why could he see two hands...his hands...rising to his eyes, covered in blood? He could almost hear a voice, the Colonel’s panicked voice, saying...

“Did Damien put you up to this?” The name was like a bucket of ice water over his back. He knew it, and he’d been known by it. But...that wasn’t right, was it? Why hadn’t the man recognized him then if he was this “Damien” he seemed to know well? He wanted to ask, but the Colonel wasn’t listening anymore, and he couldn’t seem to make his voice work anyway. As the Colonel wandered away from him, calling for someone to answer, Damien again, and someone called Celine, names he barely knew but felt like he had always known, his heart gave a funny pang. He almost went after the strange officer, going so far as to take a step toward him, mouth forming a name he didn’t remember, but his eyes were drawn to the silver and black cane the Colonel had put down on the table. As he picked it up, another shot of pain went through him, and he looked up.

The face in the mirror before him...wasn’t him. It might once have been, he wasn’t sure, but now...it was different. Hollow, and gaunt...monochrome...

Dark.

He scowled at the face, and it scowled back. More pain stabbed through his neck, and he twisted it to try and alleviate it. There was a loud crack, and when he looked back in the mirror, straightening himself out, he knew he hated that face. But it wasn’t his face, it was the face of a man who had once worn it that he hated, who’d forced him into it now. Vague memories that didn’t make any sense swirled in his head, and they didn’t seem to matter anymore, except for being the cause of the heavy, burning anger that seemed to be all he could feel, the piercing ring that stuck in his ears. There was only one thought in his head as he turned away from the mirror with a jerk and went to clean himself up and get to work:

Mark would pay.