I Like The Idea That He Got It Done While He Was Very Drunk And Has No Idea What It Is

"Dark Side" Headcanons.

-They're thought forms (See previous story about Hyde Glitches), so the bigger the following in the fanbase, the stronger they are. And they're (almost) all aware of each other.

-The Youtubers, or their Personas, anyway, are generally unaware of their dark sides. The exceptions are Mark and Jack (bc their counterparts have appeared intentionally in videos).

-For the longest time, Dark was the strongest of them. And then Mark turned him into a joke. He lost power quickly.

-No one was expecting Anti's rise. Not even Jack, who had his concerns but didn't panic until shortly before Halloween.

-When Anti rose, Dark was bitter and jealous. Anti's a snarky, arrogant shit, so he fed this bitterness. Now Dark's biggest wish is to kill Anti.

-Problem being, this would kill Jack as well, with how strong Anti is. Because Jack is Sean's online existence, and Anti is now canonically part of this existence.

-Mad!Cry, Pewdiepie.EXE, MadPat, Natemare, etc. are all weak, and were henchmen to Dark because they were afraid of him and greedy for a cut of his popularity and power. When Anti rose, they offered their surfaces to him, but he's not much of a leader, just a destructive force. Now they just cause minor havoc whenever they can.

And also...

-Corroded Crank just came into existence. And he's not evil, he's just broken. He's also Dark's prisoner. He's only dangerous when his programming malfunctions, then he's deadly strong.

If you want stories based on these ideas, my asks are always open and I’m happy to write suggestions!

IT’S SHOWTIIIIIIIME

So! What we’ve got here is a basic teaser trailer, but there’s so much more to it than that!

Let’s start with sounds. That right there? Air raid siren, typically used in high security situations or widescale emergency alert systems. For the sake of my sanity, we’re gonna guess that it’s high security here. This museum has top of the line alerts, not just the bells and secret alarms of a normal place. Why is that? What’s it guarding?

That brings us to point number two! The lights. Clearly, we’re seeing down the end of a hallway, slowly lit up as if triggered by the sirens, but that’s a strange way to have your electronics set up. Why not have the lights trigger the alarm? That’d make more sense if it’s somewhere with secure access: you have to turn on the lights the right way or the sirens cut on and you’re busted. It’s weird to me. Someone got a good idea as to why it’s backwards?

And finally! THE PICTURE. That very much looks like Actor Mark. But why? Who would go to all the trouble to steal a picture of some long-dead actor? Who would bother? Even if he’s still “alive”, why would you want his picture that badly? And more importantly, why is it under such high security? Who put it under lock and key?

There’s a lot going on here and I’m HOOKED. It’s been a minute since I’ve had something this interesting to theorize over. I’m excited to see what this brings. :)

It’s not about me. It’s about you.

A Really Rather Dumb Bet (Schneep and Chase Drabble).

A/N: Because everyone needs a little more fluff and comedy for these two fools.

The horrid crashing sound was more than enough to send Henrik careening out of bed. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to loud noises, he made plenty of them himself and hell, he was good friends with Jack. It was just that this particular loud sound had been made at two o'clock in the morning when he'd thought he was alone in the house. Anyone else might have been inclined to do something rational, like call the police or go back to sleep. Henrik, however, knew much better, which was why he swung his door open with great gusto, walking confidently into the living room, brandishing a stethoscope like a garrot and yelling "WHO IS IT ZAT DARES TO DISTURB ZE REST OFF ZE GREAT HENRIK VON SCHNEEPLESTEIN?! VHAT CRIMINAL IS STUPID ENOUGH TO CONTEST HIM?!" Honestly, even in the fluorescent pink pajama shorts and haphazard glasses, he struck an intimidating figure. What greeted him was not an awestruck-and-or-blinded-by-the-neon-PJs burgler, but a broken window, a collapsed side table, a few scattered remote pieces and magazine pages, and a very dissheveled, very drunk, widely grinning Chase Brody. "DOC! AH'M -hic- SO HAPPY TAH SEEEE YOOOOOU!" This was met with a blank stare, to which Chase pouted considerably. "Aw, c'mon -hic- Schneeps, you've gotta be h-hic-happy to see me too. I hav'n ev'n seen you in like...like...ever!" "Chase, vhat ze fuck?" The good doctor shook his head and went to help his terribly inebriated friend to sit on the couch. "First off all, vhy are you here at two in ze morgen?" "Because I wanna see-" "See me, ya, I got zhat. Sank you, ze sought is appreciated." Clearly he wasn't going to get a better explanation. "Second question, zhen: vhy did you come through ze vindow?" "The door was locked." He would have facepalmed if he'd had a free arm that wasn't busy trying to shove said window back into the gaping hole it'd created on the way down. "Off course. And vhy are you drunk as an Irish sailing skunk?" "Because Marv gave me -hic- some awesome whiskey! And bet me -hic hic- I couldn't finish it all in one go! I won! Ha!" Chase laughed. The laughing quickly turned into a vague wretching. He turned very green and Henrik didn't wait to be asked before he pointed down the hall to the open bathroom door. For a drunk man, Chase moved surprisingly quickly and with surprisingly few casualties. Henrik only had to dive to catch one vase and three paintings before the door shut behind him. He sighed. Tomorrow, he supposed, he'd have to get some more answers out of that man, and a sound apology from Marvin. Tonight, though, he simply went to the closet in the hall and pulled the door open to reveal a set of shelves with extra linens on them. He ran a finger down the edges of the shelving. JJ, Marvin, Angus, Robbie...ah, there it is! Chase. He pulled out a set of Nerf sheets, and began to make up a bed on the couch. BANG! CRASH! THUMP! "Hennnnnn-!"

Sigh.

He stood, straightening his shorts. A doctor's duties never cease.

Last Words. (Dean Imagine)

(A/N: THIS IS AN END OF S11 FIC. Technically, the oneshot itself has no spoilers...I think. But just so you understand the context, this takes place the night before the end of the season finale. I apologize in advance for the ensuing tears.)

Pairing: Dean/reader

Rating: PG13 for sadness

Dean sat down on his bed, laptop open in front of him, a blank document staring back expectantly. He sipped his beer, and set it on the nightstand, sighing heavily.

She would find it after everything was over. He'd print it up, seal it in an envelope, give it to Cas, ask him to give it to her when he was gone. When they were safe.

"Let's get this over with."

Dear (Y/N),

He deleted it.

(Y/N),

He deleted it.

To my girl.

Here we are again. End of the line. The world's going out tomorrow unless the Winchesters step up, right? Tomorrow night, I'll probably be dead, and in the Void.

How many times have we been here? Too many. This time, though, I'm pretty certain I'm not getting out of it. This time, it really is the end of the line. Everybody off.

So I thought I should leave something behind. Kind of a will, but not really because legally I don't exist anymore. Sort of a...goodbye. You know I'm not good at them. Soppy crap has never been my thing, but this time...I don't know. It just feels right to go out properly.

Sammy gets my Baby. It's always been that way. Don't let him chuck my music, though, doll. Those cassettes are classics and really valuable, trust me.

You and him keep on at the Batcave. Don't move, you won't be safe if you do. You know that, though. Also, don't let them touch my room, okay? No one but you gets in, babe, promise me. Everyone else would touch my stuff and move it and mess it up, and I swear if you guys break anything I'll pull my damn self out of the void to haunt your asses.

Watch out for Sammy for me. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. And tell him to get a haircut.

Watch out for Cas. Don't let him do anything stupid either. But still mess with him sometimes, too. He's still got a stick up his ass.

Take care of yourself. Move on. Find someone who's actually worth your time now that you're not stuck with me. Just don't be alone, okay? No one should be alone. And don't do anything stupid, either. Don't try to bring me back. I don't want that.

I love you so much, and I don't say it as much as I should. Tell Sam and Cas I love them too, because God knows...well, you know what I mean...I can't say it to their faces. Too much of a chick flick moment. Soppy crap.

But I do love you. All of you. And I hope that I can't miss you in the void, because I know I will if I can. I'll miss you so damn bad.There's no way in hell I can thank any of you enough, or tell you how much you mean to me.

Tell Sammy I'm proud of him, and I'm sorry he never got that normal life he wanted. Tell him he can stop hunting now, if he can find a way out. He deserves that much. Tell him I'm sorry I dragged him back into that crap, and I'm sorry he was born into it all, and I wish more than anything that we'd gotten normal lives dealt to us. But tell him I'm so proud to call him my brother, and I loved every minute we got together.

Tell Cas thank you, for everything he's done, and that I'm so sorry that I brought him down with me. Tell him he's the best friend I ever had, and I didn't deserve anything he did for me. Tell him I'm so damn proud of him, and I hope he can patch things up with Claire, and with at least some of the God squad. Tell him that to me, he's always been a brother. Tell him he's family, and he's earned that place, for what it's worth.

You are so beautiful, and so wonderful, and so strong. I never deserved you, and I don't know why you stayed with me, but I am so damn glad that you did. Thank you for making these last few years so real, and so great, for staying with me through literal hell and high water, for every kiss and every touch and every word you ever said to me. Thank you for being alive and for being mine. Thank you for letting me be yours because you deserved so much better than this washed-up idiotic alcoholic mess.

I love you, (Y/N). My girl. My babe, my doll, my honey, my cherry pie. I love you.

Goodbye.

Dean Winchester.

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!!

Do You Trust Me? Pt. 2

A/N: So this is the second part to the fic that I wrote yesterday. I’m still working on the name, so it may change. If you have suggestions, I’ll gladly take them.

Link to part one: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155650933267/pizsospa-cmon-little-dude-you-can-trust-me

"You alright?" "I'm fine, I'm fine. You? Did he hurt you?" "No, no, I'm-" Jack screamed and collapsed...

"Now, I'm thinking," Jack muttered as he hooked the camera up to the computer and fiddled with it, "That I know what we need to do. It's not gonna be easy to get there, but I think we need to go see a friend of mine. He'll probably know how to get you out of here, he's done it before. Just once, mind you, but he's done it." "I'm not the first one to get here?" You took a few steps toward Jack but he stopped you. "What are you doing, by the way?" "Making sure this particular port doesn't close. Camera shuts off, port closes, so I'm plugging in the camera. I don't want you stepping on cable." You shook your head. Sure, why not? It's not like anything else made sense. "Okay then...so who're we going to see?" "Just a friend," Jack said, glancing over with a smile, "I thought it'd be nice to surprise you." You finally managed to return his smile, and he laughed. "There it is! Yeah!" You chuckled. "So, how do we get to him? Can you drive?" "Well...not exactly. That's, uh...not quite how travel works here." He stood, apparently satisfied with his work, and walked over to the door, motioning for you to follow him.

Had you not been right behind him when he opened the door, he probably wouldn't have heard the small gasp you let out. It was the only sound you could manage to make. It was beautiful, in a strange way. Lines and lines and lines of code, stretching out like a floor, bright, fluorescent green on a pitch black background, without a sky, without actual ground. A few yards to either side of you were walls of more code, 0s and 1s stretching up in jagged, flat topped sections, as if you were standing at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Farther on in the distance was what seemed to be a mountain, or a large hill, still of the same code. Everything looked like it was moving, with the code scrolling and occasionally blinking red. "Whadda ya think?" Jack grinned. And the first thing you could think to say was, "It's definitely not Ireland." That made him laugh. "No, no, no Ireland here." "Are we just gonna...walk the whole way?" "Yep!" And walk he did, you trailing numbly behind him, staring up at the walls. "But it's not all that long. This being my territory, I know a few shortcuts. Base of that mountain? There's a hole in the code I use to get to my friend sometimes. Cuts the trip in half, no problem." "Uh huh." Far above you, sections of code seemed to be flying. Jack followed your glance and nodded at them. "Messages. They're heading to my hub, the computer in there. And then I get to read them." "From us?" He nodded, smiling widely. "And...you read all of them?" "Every single one!" That put a smile on your face. Jack could guess why. "Should I expect one from you?" "...yeah. A couple, actually. Just...doodles." "I love doodles!" He clapped happily. You giggled. "You actually do that. That's awesome."

You walked a while, Jack occasionally pointing things out and explaining them. You managed to guess on your own that the red text was something being edited or deleted, which Jack seemed proud of you for. Once, a message flew a bit too low and Jack ducked too hard and fell. You helped him up once you finished laughing. "Here we go!" Jack said finally, as you paused to look at the code of the mountain's base up close. "Wait here a minute while I find it, yeah?" "Yep," you waved him off. This line of code wasn't moving like the others, and was a little bit duller. Old, you supposed. You wondered what it coded for. A message? A tweet? What if it was a picture? Absently, you put your hand out to trace a zero, and jumped back in surprise when a picture popped up, hologram style. It was a picture of Jack and a fan, with white text under it, reading, "LOOK WHO I MET IN THE SHOPS THE OTHER DAY!!!!!!!!! @therealjacksepticeye". Above it was a tumblr url. "How'd you do that?" Jack had wandered back over, and seemed more interested than concerned. "I just touched it." "Really? No commands or anything? Huh," Jack nodded, then squeezed your shoulders. "I guess bein' real makes you more powerful. Cool. C'mon, let's go." "More powerful," you scoffed as you followed him over to a gap in the wall, and squeezed into it behind him. The ground here was narrow, but not narrow enough to worry you. If you stayed in the middle, even the clumsiest person could walk it safely. There were doors are fairly regular intervals along the walkway, and you figured you were headed toward one of them. "Yeah, more powerful," Jack turned to look at you with mock sternness. "And you won't convince me otherwise." "Does it make me more of a boss than you?" "Now that's crossing the line." "But I've got more power. Ie, more of a boss." "Shut your whore mouth!" "Dickhead!" "Bastard!" It was amazing how comfortable you were with each other. Dreams, you supposed, made it easier to make friends. You were both laughing so hard that you didn't notice the strange, dark green code until Jack was almost standing on it. You had just enough time to say, "Jack, what's tha-?" before screaming. A hand erupted out of the ground, the same strange green as the weird code, and grabbed Jack, slamming him into the ground. He fell with a shouted, "MOTHER FUCKER", and suddenly the hand became a torso and a head, with neon green hair and eyes, fanged, manic grin coming right for you. You fell backward, screaming again as Anti grabbed your shoulders. It hurt, a surprising amount, as if you were getting electrocuted. You struggled, your muscles convulsing horribly, out of your control. He was stronger than you'd thought he'd be. He started to laugh, the maniacal, glitching laugh you remembered from the videos. "Get off them!" Anti was suddenly jerked off of you, rolling with Jack a short way away, but you were too focused on the fact that you were falling. "JACK!" You scrambled to grab the edge, and then you were swinging wildly, feet kicking above the vast, empty void under the walkway. Wordless screams of terror fought to get out of your throat, but that wouldn't help, so you held them back to just whimpers. You could hear fighting over you, glitched yells from Anti and curses galore from Jack. There was a loud thunk, and Jack's face appeared over you. He grabbed your arms and started to pull you up, straining. "Hold on!" "WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M FUCKING DOING?!" "JUST FUCKING HOLD ON!" You managed to get your torso back on solid ground, and Jack let go as you swung your legs up, standing back to give you room. "You alright?" "I'm fine, I'm fine. You? Did he hurt you?" "No, no, I'm-" Jack screamed and collapsed as Anti's hand closed around his arm. And then his arm began to glitch and blink red. "NO!" You shoved, holding onto Jack. Anti looked as surprised as you did when he slid back along the platform, chest glowing red. But Jack's grunts of pain brought you out of your stuper, and you pulled him up and started to run, barreling toward a door, any door. Anti screamed again, running after you, but he was slower now, you'd injured him. "YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME!" "SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!" Jack yelled back hoarsely as the two of you fell through a door.

You thumped onto a platform, and, standing, slowly, you saw that you were apparently on the side of the moutain, quite far up, and possibly on the other side. Jack closed the gap behind you. It looked like he drew code up from the mountain to cover it, weakly tapping bits and pieces of it to get it to go where he wanted. And then he slumped to lie down flat, breathing heavily. "You okay?" You knelt next to him, hands hovering over his still-red arm. It wasn't glitching anymore, which you supposed was good. "Not really," he muttered, trying to shrug and wincing, "But you are. So job done." "Job not done! Can I help? What's wrong with it?" "Not sure you can. Anti's corrupted my coding a little. Not enough for anything horrible, I don't think. But it'll hurt to use that arm for a bit." He managed a half smile. "I think I'll manage fine." You studied the faint red writing, thinking. "I think it's worse than You're saying." Jack shrugged with his good shoulder and you shot him a sharp look before looking back at the injury. "But...Jack...back there, I hit Anti. With something. I don't know. But it turned him red. Maybe I can...I can do it the other way?" He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. "I guess. Not a lot to lose. 'Cept my arm, of course. But I might loose it anyway, so that's fine. Go for it." Great. Thanks for the confidence. You hesitantly put your hand on his arm. When Anti had attacked him, all you'd thought of was getting rid of him. So what would happen if you thought of saving Jack? Just bringing him back and making sure he's alright. He had done so much for you already, making you smile on your worst days, offering you support and hope and a place to belong. You'd always hated seeing him hurt, always wanted desperately to just be able to reach through the screen and give him a hug, make it all better. His arm slowly started to fade back to normal. Jack stared at it, fascinated. When it was normal again, he flexed it, and seemed dumbfounded that it didn't hurt him to do so. "Thanks..." "N-No problem." You honestly hadn't expected that to work. And you weren't sure how it did. You laid down flat beside him, both of you letting out sighs of relief. Without saying a word, you agreed to take a quick break from travelling.

It occured to you suddenly that you'd felt pain back there. And stupid as that sounds...pain meant this wasn't a dream. All of this was real. And Jack had really saved your life. And you were really stranded in a bizarre internet world, with very little chance of getting home. You didn't realize you were crying until Jack scooted over to you and pulled you onto his chest, putting an arm around you. Suddenly, you were sobbing, and you couldn't stop. Jack just rubbed your back and held you. "It's alright. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." You stayed like that for a long time. Just you, and this digital man, in this empty part of the Web.

Hello! Accepting fic prompts!

Hi, I just wanted to mention that I’m taking prompts to write oneshots, I’ll at least attempt most pairings for Doctor Who (New Who only, I’m sorry!), I’m also open to Janto and Owen/Tosh or Owen/Gwen Torchwood stuff. Okay! Letting you know!

i like this idea! "schneep" might not even be his real name - maybe something like witness protection?

Schneep is an ex-employee of IRIS...

Just a thought.

“PLEASE!”

That might have been the first time you’d ever heard Dark speak sincerely, or say the word “please” in any context other than sneering dismissive commentary.

He was hanging by one arm, trying desperately to get a hold with the other but failing because his hand was broken to shit, shattered into little pieces by the fall. If no help came for him, he’d fall into the crumbling void, and whether he’d die there or not you’d never know.

But you couldn’t seem to move.

“CAN’T YOU HEAR ME?! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” His voice was cracking underneath its echoes and distortion, and it was clear from his tone he’d given up on his “I need no one” attitude that’d been his trademark. He genuinely sounded afraid, and in that moment, so much like Mark.

That, you decided, was the reason that you scrambled over to the ledge and grabbed his arm, grunting from the pain of trying to pull him up. He scrambled along the wall and after a tense moment, managed to crumple onto the ground beside you. Neither of you moved for a long moment, just heaving in labored breaths and trying to get your sense back.

“Why?”

You turned to look at him, frowning in confusion. He was sitting up slightly, hunched forward and holding his broken ribs and hand. You struggled to sit up.

“W...why what?”

“Why did you save me?”

“You asked me to, asshole.”

He glared at you, but the usual deadly malice was missing. He just looked tired. “I’ve asked you for a thousand things. I’ve forced you to do a thousand things, and you...you had the chance to be free, to get rid of me, why didn’t you...?”

You sighed heavily, lying back down to stare at the...ceiling? Was it a ceiling or was it sky, or was it neither? You supposed it didn’t matter too much. “Because...you sounded afraid.”

“Why does that matter?” There was a little bit of anger in that one, but it didn’t seem to be directed at you.

“I’ve never heard you sound like that before. You sounded like...”

“Like him.”

A long pause. “Yes. And no.” He frowned at you, and you elaborated. “You sound like Mark, yes, but...mostly, you just sounded like a person. Any other person. Someone who didn’t want to die. And I don’t think I could live with myself if I let you fall, and there was any chance that you were...”

“What? Human?” A sigh, again, and then, disdainfully, “There is nothing human left in me.”

“Left?” That was a surprise. Since when had there been anything human about him at all? But he didn’t seem willing to tell you any more. You thought for a moment. “Well, it sounded to me like there was something left. Small as it was, it was there. Maybe...maybe whoever you were originally isn’t as far gone as you thought.”

The look he gave you then was terrifying. Not in his usual “I’m going to rip you apart just to see what makes you tick” way, but in a way that was more subtle, and more chilling. He looked at you as if you’d given him hope he didn’t want, and he looked very much like a man that was just too tired. Done up in that suit of his, disheveled and broken, he looked like he could’ve been some politician, caught up in some scandal he hated, just wanting to do the best he could to make the world better. He looked like a different person completely.

“What was your name?” The look hardened. “Before you were Dark, what was your name?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. That person is dead, and anything they were is dead along with them. What’s dead should stay that way.” He stood, cracking his neck sickeningly, and seeming to pop some of the bones in his chest back into place, and turned away, starting to walk. “If you can’t get up, then die here. If you can, then follow me so you don’t.”

You stood, certain he would be good to his word and let you die here if you didn’t. But you could never look at him the same way ever again.

If Darkiplier was reaching out to you, would you help or let let him die?

You choose.

Like = Kill

Reblog = Save

So if you’re a fan of my stuff here, I’ve been moving a lot of my older fic to AO3, and I’ve even re-written and added to some of them! If you feel like checking that out, go for it. I’m under the name Kittenbedtimestories there, the same as my old Wattpad name.