Not Strictly A Story, But It’s A Show And A Channel That I’m Running!

I’ve gained so many followers recently bc of my Anti stuff??

So I just wanted to say thank you, hello, and I hope you like what you read. Feel free to send me suggestions and headcanons of your own!! Once again, thank you guys. :)

Oh my god, this is brilliant! Absolutely brilliant. You’ve somehow managed to perfectly blend to absolutely amazing universes and you’ve done it seamlessly. I would gladly read this as a miniseries or one-off book.

AJ Crowley and Harry Potter bump into each other in public:

Harry Potter: Oops, sorry about that.

Crowley: No, it was my fault, don’t worry about it.

Public: *stares at the two men making strange hissing noises at each other*

Both: Wait…

I feel like dark would secretly like Christmas though, I’m not sure why, I just feel like it’d be this little secret thing he gets happy about

He’d pretend to hate it, or have no reaction at all, but he’d drink the hot drinks that Wilf makes for him and duck under the fairy lights lining the door to the conference room, with a small smile when no one else is looking.

Chained together, running through an underground (most likely) tunnel

...prison break?

OH MY GO D

OH MY GOD

OH MY FUCKING GOD

I’m a fan of both, and I kinda see them as an evolution? Like Anti started out wild and glitchy, but he’s slowly learning to control his...form, I guess? better than he did before, so he can be silent and menacing. He’s done playing games and is getting down to business, whatever his main business is now.

Okay question for everyone,

Do you all like the silent, menacing, Anti more or the crazy, chaotic glitch?

For me personally, I like the silent version more. Why? It's way more terrifying. With the other one, you know exactly what he's thinking and what he's going to do next but with the left one, he's way more unpredictable, way more sinister. He could easily kill you without you even knowing.

hahahaha

Memories

Pairing: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose

Rating: G, but with like really mild angst

It was in the library.

Just a little thing. It shouldn't have been important enough for him to notice at all, really, except that it was pink. And not just any pink.

Her pink.

Not out of place in a library, a book. But this book...

He picked it up, staring at the cover, reading the embossed cursive words with a sad little smile on his face. Stardust Journal. He opened it to the inside cover, smiling at the little message written in it.

Property of Rose Tyler. If found inside the TARDIS, Doctor, c'mon, give it back. If found outside the TARDIS, please leave it where you found it. I'll be there to pick it up in a minute.

A Journal of Me and My Doctor.

He flipped it open to the first page, and found a pamphlet for a shop in London, and a news clipping whose headline read ATTACKING MANNEQUINS ON RAMPAGE. One word was scribbled in the middle of the page. Run! He laughed, and flipped through a few more pages, reminiscing.

A picture of Pete and Jackie Tyler, Jackie holding a little baby Rose, at a wedding for a friend. An ad for the Game Station's live premiere of Big Brother. A WW2 gas mask safety flyer. A ticket to see a strange collection of alien technology in America, deep underground. A sketch of a Dalek. A sketch of a Slitheen. The words Bad Wolf scribbled all over the place. Fantastic in the margins.

A piece of satsuma peel. A scrap of striped pajama. A picture of him (he looked so young!) taken on New Earth, on a ridge overlooking New New York. A dried piece of mistletoe, a picture of Queen Victoria. A picture of her and Sarah Jane in front of a school that appeared to have blown up. Strange, devilish symbols and a sketch of a demon. A picture of him posing stupidly with an Ood. A broken mirror shard.  A child's drawing of him and the TARDIS. A picture of him lighting the Olympic torch. Allons-y and Oh yes! scribbled here and there. A sketch of a Cyberman.

He put down the book after that page, still smiling sadly at the image of her face, fuzzed over the years, smiling with her tongue out and laughing at him. He could almost still hear her saying "Doctor!" How long had it been, since...?

He picked up the book again, and flipped to the last filled in page. It was just a sketch of the two of them, holding hands beside the TARDIS, heads tilted toward the sky. Forever was written across the bottom, with a heart beside it.

A single tear rolled down his cheek as he tucked the book onto a nearby shelf.

"Doctor?"

Amy stood in the doorway, looking impacient. "I thought we were going to see another planet? It's date night for me and Rory, you remember."

He sighed, nodded, and straightened his bowtie. "Of course. Where to?"

Who Killed Markiplier? Chapter 2 Update.

WE’VE GOT MORE EVIDENCE MOTHERFUCKERS! Time to look at the new information (AND THE NEW CHARACTER) we’ve been given.

My first post, covering Chapter 1 and the Jims. Just in case you want to follow along with my theory thread.

First of all, let’s talk about Mark’s room.

-On the way there, we learn that the Detective and Mark have been working together for years, and that recently, Mark’s gone “quiet as of late”, and that he was worried about something, but he doesn’t know what it was.

-The room is a mess, pillows, books, sheets all over the floor, the bed in disarray. There's an envelope on the ground, which I think might be important.

-On the table are four pictures. The first is Mark, the Mayor, and the Colonel. The second is the three of them again, but Mark has the Woman (more on her later) on his arm. The third is Mark and the Mayor, both smiling. The last is a broken picture of the Colonel.

-Here’s the questions and the guesswork so far: The Colonel, The Mayor, and Mark were all once great friends (the first pic, the Colonel’s conversation with us). Then, Mark got more famous, and the Woman became involved (Maybe Mark’s girlfriend?). The Colonel had a falling out with Mark, while remaining friends with the Mayor (pic 3, the Colonel’s conversation). That fourth, broken picture of the Colonel is significant. How did it break? Who broke it? Was it Mark, angry and betrayed by his friend? Was it the Colonel, furious at his abandonment? Did it break when Mark was attacked? In terms of the messy room, there are two options: either Mark was attacked in there and there was a scuffle, or it’s been ransacked by one of the party members. That envelope on the floor might hold case files or information about the guests from the Detective. If so, is that what the searcher was looking for?

Next, let’s talk about the Colonel:

-In this chapter, he’s acting more and more suspicious, more and more violent and flippant about the subject of death. But a lot of his statements don’t line up. He wants the “privilege” or shooting the possible zombie, but refuses to “speak ill of the dead” during our walk with him. He knows we’re friends with the Mayor, and calls him a good man and a good friend, but seems to be avoiding him (jumping in the pool, running to the golf course).

-We learn that he and the Chef have a history, apparently with the Chef working for the Colonel. Apparently they also worked together when the Colonel was just a private, so it was a long time ago.

-The Colonel says “I will not be called a murderer in my own home!” He claims to own the mansion, which doesn’t make any sense. It’s Markiplier Manor, isn’t it? Unless he and Mark are either related, or Mark took the house from him, and that caused the break.

Also, let’s talk about that final fight scene between the Colonel and the Detective:

-We hear a shot, and a vase breaking (pointed out later by the Butler), and run in after the Mayor.

-Inside, we find the Detective and the Colonel pointing guns at each other. The Colonel claims that the Detective attacked him, while the Detective claims that the Colonel tried to shoot him. The Colonel claims that he was doing target practice inside because he couldn’t get to the grounds that the Chef was blocking (much to the incredulity of the Butler).

-This is the crucial point in the video where we learn that the Colonel used to work with the Chef, and when the Colonel claims to be the owner of the manor. BUT ALSO!

THE WOMAN:

-Okay so we know from the pictures on the table that she’s an old friend/lover of Mark’s, and at least slightly knows the Mayor and the Colonel.

-She also appears out of nowhere, apparently expecting violence or tension, but possibly unaware of the death. The biggest questions are: who is she? Why is she here? Was she invited?

-UPDATE ADDED AFTER ORIGINAL POSTING: Apparently her “name”/designation is the Seer. Did she have a vision about the murder and come running to check on Mark and the gang?

Ooooh BOY I am loving this! I love a good mystery, and the hints and characters feel straight out of a silly version of Agatha Christie. The whole team did so well, and again I’m super impressed with the acting and the level of detail they went into. But tell me what you guys are thinking! Who did it, do you think? Did this new evidence change your mind about the killer? Who is the Woman? What happened between Mark and the Colonel that led to their falling out? And is there new evidence I don’t know about yet?

This is exciting!!

“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.

And then there’s me:

She looked like sunlight on the water, warm and cold at the same time, eyes like whiskey and hair like ice, a too-soft cardigan over a Metallica t-shirt and ink all over her fingers when she reached for the book in my hand. When she spoke, it was like listening to the ice crack under your feet as you slip through to the freezing depths, or the first chord in a rock song shredded out on the steel strings of an electric guitar.

“Please let go of my book. You’re gonna rip it.”

Are you a “can’t write dialogue” writer or a “can’t describe anything” writer