I Wanna Get Back Into Writing Some Fanfic. Share Some Inspiration With Me, Please? What’s Your Favorite

I’ve written another book! The Clockwork Figurine is a collection of short stories (some of which are based on fanfics that I first published here!), and it’s available worldwide on Amazon for $.99 as an ebook. It’s also available in paperback!

This is all fascinating, and I am so curious to see what the last “dark” side will be. As Morality’s corruption, it’s got to be a fascinating character. Selfish, uncaring about others’ needs, totally and completely egotistical, would be my guess, and that’s why he’s invisible. Can’t see him, can’t get rid of him, right? In fact, that could be his “name”, Ego. Maybe it’ll be an interesting battle between “is Thomas doing things for others or for himself?”

I also want to see the interaction between the three still-”dark” sides and Virgil, and I want to know more about his time as a dark and what caused him to become a “light”. I suspect it was because they showed him that he wasn’t just fear or panic, he was the preservation instinct. Maybe, also, Virgil doesn’t like the darks because he’s afraid he’ll become one again.

Theory Master Post: Buckle Up

So in Moving On Part 2, there’s a strange, out-of-place picture right after the intro. It lingers for three frames and has nothing to do with what they’re talking about, whereas other pictures stay for one frame and relate to the topic. Here it is:

Speak no evil, hear no evil, see no evil. We all know that the dark sides are seen as evil, yes? Well in order of appearance, Deceit covers mouths and Remus has to do with the ear topic. So who will be covering eyes?

I know some of you are thinking “But Remus didn’t cover their ears!” How does he enter? The video goes quiet, and Thomas can’t hear anything but Remus when he speaks to him. Other, less important ear things include: taking off his own ears, and when people are around him, they tend to cover their ears. So essentially, Remus is “hear no evil”. Most of his power comes from listening. He can’t do much physically.

To elaborate on that, Remus is a bit like a siren. During his song he drags them into his pitch-black realm of dark thoughts. Virgil even explicitly tells Thomas to stop him from singing. And how do you resist a siren? By covering your ears. It’s fitting that his logo/animal is a kraken. If you don’t listen to Remus, he’s powerless.

Some people have said that Virgil is “see no evil”. Maybe. Here is why people have thought that. Let’s go chronologically. In Embarrassing Phases he’s able to straight-up disappear before re-entering in a cloud of darkness. Shortly after, he makes the room go black. Now, he’s been revealed to have been with the dark sides in the past, and fear “blinds you”. Also, Virgil tends to cover his eyes a lot, whether it’s with his hoodie, bangs, or even hands. Plus, he wears eyeshadow that affects the other sides when in his room.

However, I don’t think this is the case. So far, all of the sides have continued to follow the rainbow color theme. Not the cartoon doodle rainbow with six colors, I’m talking ROYGBIV. Red (Roman), orange (?), yellow (Deceit), green (Remus), blue (Patton), indigo (Logan), and violet (Virgil).

There’s one missing side. The orange one, who is likely dark. When Thomas learns about Deceit, he asks if there are any more sides. Roman and Virgil both reply to this by confirming there are more, or “the dark sides” as Roman puts it. Note he says sides as in plural. So it’s not just Remus. There’s another one.

To even begin to figure out what this side is, we need to poke at the opposites theory which goes hand-in-hand with the color theory. First, let’s look at the first canonically opposite pair: Roman and Remus. Red and green are across from each other. Looking at Logan’s color, he’s across from yellow, while Patton is across from orange. Virgil does not have a clear opposite. Let me explain how this is perfect.

Most people think that Deceit is Patton’s opposite simply because he impersonated him first and went against him in the court room. But, look closer. Logan loves his facts, but those facts are usually helpful. Deceit absolutely loves facts, information, and philosophy too, but his are usually dark. This is just like how Remus likes dark ideas, while Roman likes brighter ones. Another thing, like Remus and Roman, they dress similarly. The only sides to wear a tie/bow tie, but that’s just a minor detail. Deceit also keeps Logan in the back seat for the courtroom video because he knows he’s his match. What does Remus do with Roman? Keep him in the backseat by knocking him unconscious. Do the dark sides fear their opposites, or are they just doing this to simply have more power? In summary, it’s facts vs. lies which are very opposite indeed.

Before I get to Patton, let’s talk about Virgil. “If there’s opposites, why doesn’t he have a light side?” His whole character arch is about being unique. In the Fitting In video, he doesn’t fit to a specific house. He is an exception to the rule, like most things. Anxiety is hard to understand, so it makes sense that he wasn’t able to be split into a good and a bad part by Thomas’ mind. He got to choose like he chose his color.

Then there’s Patton. Repressive, innocent Patton. Whoever could his dark side be? That’s not too hard to guess with all of this information put together. Remus is Thomas’ view of bad creativity, Deceit is Thomas’ view of bad information, so the final dark side will be orange and Thomas’ view of bad emotions or morals. The “see no evil” of the group. The one who’s likely always been in the background, but never seen. With all the build up, probably the worst one yet. So how will his role come into play?

We all know the question Thomas has been asking for some time now. “Am I a good person?” It never got answered. Even after Remus. The first big video about it was Selfishness vs. Selflessness, which is a confirmed two-parter according to Joan. So why the video(s) between the next part? Well, we haven’t met all the dark sides, now have we? In order to answer this question, Thomas needs to see every part of him, good and bad. So I bet you anything, that second part will be light vs. dark to answer the big question. The internal struggle most people have of finding your true self.

My inbox will be open...

"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!

BOOOOOST

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Stripping's Harder Than It Looks. (Dean Imagine)

Pairing: Dean/Reader

Rating: PG 13 for sexy situations (It’s really not bad at all.)

Dean had you against his bedroom door, your hands pulling at his short hair. His hands were raking down your back and you were gasping in his ear as he managed to pull your shirt off, grunting in frustration when he had to break contact with your lips even for the second it took to pull it over your head. It was tossed unceremoniously aside as you worked your way toward the bed. He pushed you down onto it, and you landed flat on your back, smiling up at him mischievously as he gripped the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled upward.

He got it as far as covering his face before he got stuck.

You would've fallen over laughing if you hadn't already been lying down. As it was you were helplessly giggling as he struggled, flailing his arms. "This is so not funny!" came a muffled yell from inside the cottony mess. "Oh, babe," you choked out over your fits, "it really is. Seriously. Way to go Casanova." He gave you the finger over the top of his shirt.

It felt like five more minutes before you finally caught your breath enough to help him. Standing, still shaking with mirth, you grabbed the shirt and joined in the fight.

"How the hell did you even get this stuck?"

"Shut up and help."

"Quit moving your arms!"

"Quit pulling them!"

"How else am I supposed to get this off you?"

A minute later, you were holding his shirt and he was scowling at it. You held it up and shook it, smiling with your tongue between your teeth. "So, shirt one, hunter zip, yeah?"

"Shut up." But he cracked a grin, and pulled you over to him, kissing you again and tangling a hand in your hair. Pulling back, he smirked at you. "Now, where were we?" You pulled him back to you, and lent him back so you were lying on top of him, legs tangled with his.

"This time, let me take the clothes off."

"Gladly."

Ill Met By Moonlight.

A/N: I really wanted to try and write a really, truly scary version of Dark, because I feel like he’s too often not used as scarily as he could be. I like creepy villains, so let’s make a worse big bad than Anti! Based in the same universe as Don’t You Trust Me? Taking place sometime in the beginning of October of 2016. Enjoy. :)

Thump. Thump. Thump. Buzz. A chuckle.

The figure alone in the alley smiled slightly as he laughed. The green tinge that the code on the walls gave his skin made him look like a walking corpse, made his red hair look like waves of infected blood spilling over his closed eyes. When he spoke, it was like listening to an ancient door grind open, raspy and deep, with quiet power. "So...you're the one I've heard so much about. This...other one that everyone's panicked about. It took you long enough to come to me."

His eyes opened slowly, pure black orbs that seemed to focus on the dark green smoke that was coalescing out of the coding about two yards ahead of him. He watched it with limited interest as it slowly took the form of a man, crossed armed and smirking. His eyes, crinkled almost shut with his grin, and his hair were the same toxic green as the coding, and he couldn't seem to hold this form perfectly, glitching every few seconds, now an arm made of static, now one eye that was just code. The two men faced off for a moment, each silently sizing the other up. The green haired man spoke first, and even his voice was glitchy, high and pitch-distorted, like radio interference or the rewinding of a cassette. "That makes you the old man, doesn't it? What a pleasure to meet you." He swept into a mocking bow. The red haired man's jaw tensed, but he made no reply. The green haired man let out a sharp, high laugh, but was cut off suddenly when the other lifted a hand, seeming to choke on his own sound. "You," growled the dark haired man, "are far too loud." He shoved his hand forward and the other man went flying, thudding into the far wall and sprawling on the ground, trying to get up but pinned down by some unseen force. The dark haired man strolled forward, unconcerned. "You're young. I can forgive a few...mistakes. But you're rising quickly. Keep this up..." He knelt beside the prone man, who glared up at him with bared teeth, and smiled for the first time, a cold, calculated grin. "You'll fall twice as fast. And I'll never let you crawl back up." "You think you can control me?" The green haired man spat the words, glitching hard in his fury. "I'll destroy you, you joke of a creature. I've ten times the power you ever had." The red haired man shrugged, and stood, turning. As he walked away, toward a black door frame that was taking shape before him, he spoke over his shoulder. "You've been around long enough to hear the legends? The stories my...fans, have told? Well...Find me when that day comes. I'll show you what power I have." And just as quickly as he'd appeared in this abandoned corner of the web, he was gone.

The green haired man stood, studying the place in the wall where the other had disappeared. He was a force to be reckoned with. Not even his counterpart knew his true strength, hell, no one was sure if he himself knew. All anyone knew was that he'd been there since the beginning, practically, and operated in the background, silent, like a creeping dread. Anyone, anything that crossed his path...destroyed. Utterly, and without mercy. There were those that said even catching a glimpse of him was a death sentence, and those that said the black of his eyes was caused by the souls he'd overpowered writhing behind them. No other of their kind had the following he did, with so little for them to work off of but such passion. Such dangerous, dangerous passion. Now, the green haired man...New as he was, he was gaining a following quickly. And the bigger the following, the more power he gained, and the more dangerous he became. Why then did he find himself...uncomfortable, in the shadow of this older figure? What was this...weight in his gut? For the first time, he was beginning to realize with a degree of shock...he was afraid. But this only fueled his anger. "My turn."

And the alley was empty, with nothing but a whiff of smoke and a fading, high, maniacal laugh echoing on the walls left behind.

you nailed it!

I’ve never written fanfiction before in my life and honestly I’m shocked people like it

*muffled screaming and chaotic rumbling from inside the likepuppetsonastring office*

I really hope Mat does a theory on Jack’s egos. There’s only one problem.

JACK DOESN’T TELLS US SHIT ABOUT HIS EGOS SO MAT HAS NEXT-TO-NOTHING TO WORK WITH HERE.

Visitor Pt. 3

A/N: I’m having fun with this story, more fun than I originally thought I would have, and a couple of you still seem to like it ( @alix-the-skeleton I’m looking at you, pal. ;) ). So I wrote another bit! Enjoy! Part 1 and Part 2.

The air was cold, tonight, and filled with gentle music from the party still going on inside. William laughed as Celine pulled him along by the sleeves of his uncharacteristically dapper suit, running with him in tow to the edge of the balcony and only letting him go so that she could jump gracefully to sit on the stone railings. She looked beautiful, a bright red ballgown that hugged her in all the right places and flowed, light as a butterfly's wings, away from her at the hips, her short hair swept neatly underneath a scarlet hairclip. She kicked off her heels and swung her feet, patting the railing beside her. "Really, now, Cel, you want me to try that in this getup? I'll rip something in this bloody monkey suit." "Oh, live a little, Wil," she laughed as he hopped up anyway. "You're reckless any other time, why care about some cloth now?" "Well, it's a loan, first of all, if Mark knew I was running about in his suit-" "Oh please, as if he doesn't run around in it enough." He laughed, shaking his head. They went quiet for a moment, listening to the music swell inside, and Wil watched the smile slide off of her face. "It's hard to believe you're leaving tomorrow. How long will you be gone?" "Well," he sighed, taking her hand and staring up at the stars. They were so bright tonight. "It's only basic training, so only a few weeks." A few too many weeks, anyway. "I'll be home again before you know it." He chanced a glace. "And you've got Dames and Mark to keep you company." "Yes..." She bobbed along to the start of the new song, smoothing her dress with one hand. "Wil?" "Yes?" "What do you think is out there?" "Out there? As in, in space?" "Yes." He studied the sky for a moment. "Well...stars and planets and all that, of course...some ice, so Mark tells me..." "Other life?" "You're asking if I believe in aliens?" He chuckled, and she swatted him playfully. "Don't make it sound silly. It's totally plausible." He rubbed his arm, feigning offence, but she brushed him off. "But, no, that's not what I was asking. I was thinking more...I don't know. Spirits, or...or powers, or something." "So...God?" "Maybe not capital-G God. But yes, something along that line." William took a long time to answer, getting back to his feet as he finally spoke. "I...don't know, honestly. But I like to think that perhaps there's more to this universe than we know." Celine smiled, and stood as well. As the music swelled again, she suddenly took his hands, putting one around her waist, pulling him to her as she started to dance. He gaped at her for a second before settling into it as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm really going to miss you, Wil." He pulled her a little closer. "I'm...I'm going to miss you too, Celine. So much." If Wil could've frozen a moment in time, he would have lived right there, with her in his arms, dancing under the stars, forever.

"I think I'm going to ask her to marry me." William was slow to respond. "You're...you mean...Celine?" "Yes, of course I do," Mark laughed, "who else?" He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head as he looked over at Damien. "What do you think, Dames? Have I got your approval?" Damien smiled brightly. "Mark...of course you have my blessing. God, of course you do." He stood and embraced him, clapping him on the back as both men laughed. Wil smiled tightly as Mark turned back to him. "C'mon then, gents, let's celebrate." "She hasn't even said yes yet," Wil said quietly, but followed the other two to the bar, which Mark leapt over, grabbing three tumblers and a bottle of Fireball and setting them down on the bar. That made him smile a bit as he slapped Damien's back. "Think you can handle a shot or two of this, this time?" "Of course I can, don't be ridiculous," Damien muttered, smiling slightly as Mark laughed loudly, pouring them each a generous shot. They each grabbed a glass and raised it. "To a yes," Mark said. "To a new brother in law," Damien added. "To...us," Wil said, and the other two grinned at him, Mark nodding and throwing an arm around his would-be brother, agreeing, "to us." They downed their shots and immediately started giggling as Damien choked.

"Wil?" "Go away." "Wil, please, talk to me." "No." "William, be sensible. You can't lock yourself away forever." He shoved the door open roughly, swaying slightly as he glared through his blackened eye at a disheveled Damien, cane twisting in his hands. He huffed and turned away, stumbling back to the quickly emptying liquor cabinet in the corner of his hotel room. "And what do you want?" "To talk to you, to work things out! Dammit, man, you left so quickly-" "OF COURSE I DID!" he roared, and Damien flinched. "THAT BASTARD WAS TRYING TO KILL ME! HE WOULD HAVE, IF HE'D BEEN GIVEN THE CHANCE!" "You slept with his wife! My sister!" Damien yelled desperately, and Wil grabbed him by the lapels. "You've seen what he's become! What a selfish, pompous son of a bitch he is now! He's not the man she married! He's not the same Mark that I grew up with! And she loves me, Dames, she loves me! Not him!" "Then let her get-!" "Get what, Dames, a divorce? Make her wait, and wait, trapped with him in that godforsaken house-?" "BETTER THAN RUINING HER LIFE!" Crack. Wil stumbled back with a grunt, clutching his face as Damien stared at him, wide eyed. "Wil...Wil, no, I didn't mean..." "What the bloody hell was that for?" He ran forward, grabbing Damien's lapel again with one hand, raising the other as if to hit him. "What the actual hell, Damien?" "I-It was an accident, Wil, I didn't mean to hurt you-" "Get. Out." Wil shoved Damien into the door with a dull thud. Damien looked as if he wanted to say more, but decided against it. He sighed heavily, resignedly, and pulled it open, stepping out. "I don't blame you Wil. And...and I'm sorry." "Go!" A bottle smashed against the closing door, and Wil finally broke down, sobbing silently as he curled up on the floor of the vacant, anonymous hotel room, far away from home.

Wilford gasped, bolting upright. He'd fallen asleep at his desk, apparently, which wasn't exactly a rare occurrence. He breathed heavily for a moment, shoving aside some empty bottles as he tried to remember where he was, who he was, what he was doing. The usual checklist. His dreams, tonight, they'd felt so...real. So vivid. He tried desperately to remember what they were about, but...no. They were already gone. Still, he was shaken. All he could recall was the name Damien. Damien. That name again, the one he'd called Dark. Who was Damien, to him? Had he ever even known a Damien? He couldn't recall one. All the name brought to his mind was a vague sadness, a vague nostalgia. As if he should know who is was, but didn't. He shook his head, standing and grunting as he stretched, old bones clicking. How old was he, he wondered? He wasn't sure anymore. Frowning, he tried to think of a time when he had known his age, or even his birthday. Further from that...where had he come from? He was sure he'd been born somewhere, he'd had a family, but, much to his mounting alarm, he found he couldn't remember them at all. He started to panic. Wilford Warfstache, he was Wilford Warfstache, world famous ace reporter, right? Wasn't that right? That's what everyone called him, that's how the others here knew him. So of course, he came from the Warfstache family, didn't he? But the more he said it in his head, the worse it sounded, the more...fake. Who had the last name of Warfstache, honestly? And even his first name, his perfectly normal first name, Wilford, the one he'd known for so long, felt...wrong, now. Felt rushed. The more he thought, the more it sounded like two different words. Wilford. Wil Ford. He jumped sharply as someone knocked loudly on his door. "Wilford? Hey, Wilford, dude, you up yet?" "Jesus, Bing, let a man have his beauty sleep!" Wil snapped angrily. "Go away! Tell the studio we're on hiatus!" There was a pause. "...seriously? Hiatus? Like, since when do you ever wanna go on-?" "GO!" Wil shouted, and he heard scuffling as Bing stumbled down the hall, probably wearing his Heeleys and tripping over them. On any other day, that would've made him laugh. Today, he scowled at his desk and pulled a flask out from under it, spinning the cap off in a smooth, practiced motion, but he paused before taking a sip. If he drank...would he forget again? Forget more than he already had? Why hadn't it occured to him sooner that he couldn't remember...anything? Wil put the flask back down, without taking a sip, and instead pulled out a legal pad and a pencil, beginning to write furiously.