My Only Comment On Today’s Video Intro Is...

‘Scuse me while I try a different pain.

BANG

The sound was familiar. The numbness, and then the sudden shock of pain as he collapsed on the concrete. This form had felt this before, the old wound ripped open with the new one, the broken bones jolting out of place with the fall. The Darkness tried desperately to pull itself back together. Why this wound? Why had this one broken him? He was fading. No, no, no! This can’t be happening! This isn’t fair! This isn’t fair. This isn’t...this isn’t...

Suddenly, Damien gasped. His breath was weak and rattling...but it was his. He knew that this wasn’t his body, that he wasn’t truly his old self. He hadn’t been for a long time now, he’d been nothing but darkness for so long, he’d hardly remembered his own name anymore. But now, and he could’ve laughed if he’d had the breath, as he was lying in this puddle of blood, their blood...he remembered. Without the influence of that awful thing, he was himself, he was Damien, and...and...

Oh god.

Celine. His own sister, he’d left her there. And the DA...had he really left them in that godforsaken house? All alone for all of these years? And...

Oh no.

“Will...” he wheezed. A tear rolled down his cheek as it got harder still to breathe. He couldn’t see anymore. “’m sorry...Will, ‘m sorry...”

“Dark?”

No. No, anything but that name. Please, just let him be himself again. If nothing else in this cruel world, let him die as himself, with what little dignity he had left. He didn’t want to be that creature anymore. He groaned weakly.

Footsteps. A thud of someone collapsing down next to him.

“Dark, old man, what happened to you?”

He knew that voice...but it was wrong...it was wrong, but it was him. The tears came faster and he tried to move but grunted in pain.

“W...Will...”

“Speak up, Dark, I can’t hear you with your face on the ground like that.” He was so cheerful. Stupid, stupid man, Damien thought fondly. A hand turned him on his back and he cried out. Will sucked in a breath sharply.

“That’s a humdinger, alright. A hell of a joke.”

A joke. No, Will, no. Damien suddenly remembered what Will had become and sobbed painfully, coughing up blood. He used what little power lingered from...it...to stabilize himself slightly. Just long enough to do what he hadn’t gotten the chance to do the first time.

“Will...’s me...’s me...”

“I can see that, Dark-”

“No. No...not...that...’m...’m back, Will...’m back...”

There was a pause. Then a rattling breath. Then, in a very small voice...

“Damien?”

He laughed, coughing again, and Will tried to help him stop. His hands were shaking.

“’s been...a long time...”

“I...I-it has, h-hasn’t it...”

“’ve got..pink...ha...ha...”

“A tease as usual, I see.” A tear dripped onto his face. “I’ve missed that.”

His breathing was failing again, and the power was fading. “’m so...so sorry...”

“I-it’s...i-it’s alr-right...” A hand closed around his, and he was sad that he couldn’t return the pressure it put there. “It’s qu-quite alright.”

“Tell them...’m sorry...”

“Of course.” Will’s voice was a whisper.

“‘m sorry...” he mumbled again. The blackness of the Void was closing in again, and it was getting harder and harder to hear anything. Will’s hand felt a million miles away. “‘s good...to hear...y’r voice...old friend...”

A rattling breath. He couldn’t tell whose it was anymore.

“Goodbye, William.”

Then there was nothing.

A short story? about Wiford finding out that we killed Dark (in A date with Markiplier) saying that he trusted us and we are the only monster here. Because i like to make me suffer

@markired

Hmmmmmm.

Okay. So! I’m thinking these are locations and/or people that have a connection to Wil.

-”Springf_....” (Springfield?)

-”Florid_...” (Florida, probably)

-”Tuscany” (...as in Italy??)

-”Next???” (Probably questioning where he’s going to be next or what he’s going to do next)

-”_aldorf Juniper” (Waldorf, I’m assuming. But I’ve no idea what Juniper means.)

-”_a Jaka Baka” (...what.)

-”_son Jackson” (PLEASE LET THIS BE JAMESON JACKSON OHHHH THAT WOULD BE A COOL CROSSOVER FOR STORY REASONS)

It just doesn’t add up…

(Snows gone :( back to good old Irish rain) who would you say is your favourite character to write about and who would be the easiest to write about?

Ooooh you’re in Ireland?! That’s awesome! I’m in the boring USA. lol

Hmm, my favorite to write about...I think my favorites are Dark and Anti, because there’s just so much to say, especially since WKM came out. Anti has a special place in my heart because it was the first Antipocalypse that I actually joined the JSE fandom and really got into it, and that’s led to a lot of really good things. And Dark is super interesting and terrifying, unpredictable. A social manipulator will always be fun to write.

But I do love figuring out the voices of all the different characters, and writing for real people is interesting (for instance, writing Jack or Robin, that’s super fun!). So yeah! I have a good time with writing these people!

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.

Funny. (A DBH Drabble)

A/N: Well, I absolutely adore Detroit: Become Human, and I’ve been wanting to write a piece about it for a while! So I thought I’d get my feet wet with a quick little drabble about laughing. Enjoy!

The first time it happened, he didn't know what to think. He and Hank were eating at the usual food truck. Well, Hank was eating. Connor was leaning against the table, nodding his head to the distant music eminating from a nearby club. He didn't much care for the lyrics, but the beat was good, strong enough that he could feel it shaking the table and resonating in the soles of his shoes. He would never know why his fingers tapped the table or his head nodded in time, but he didn't mind. Having some things be unexplained was...interesting, if neither positive nor negative. "You lost in your head again, son?" He blinked and looked over at Hank, who was gesturing at him with a half-eaten chicken sandwich. "My apologies Leuitenant-" "You can just call me Hank, y'know." He blinked again, and Hank grinned somewhat awkwardly. "You don't have to. I'm just sayin', it's...y'know, it's weird to only call your friends by their rank. No one does that." "Friends?" "Shit, Con," Hank laughed, then sighed. "I mean...hell, it doesn't make sense to not call you my friend after you've saved my life a few times, right?" He waved the sandwich as if in salute. Without thinking, Connor laughed. It was a genuine, honest laugh, somewhat loud in the quiet night air. As soon as he realized what was happening, the noise cut off abruptly. The look on his face must have been quite a sight, because Hank went from smiling to wide-eyed laughter. "What'd I say?" "I...I don't know?" Connor was surprised to find that he was still smiling. "I don't think it was anything you said, but...you waved that sandwich at me, and it seemed...ridiculous?" He found he was laughing again, and Hank chuckled in return. "Are you kidding me? Damn, how low does a man have to fall for his own fuckin' android to laugh at 'im?" In yet another first, Hank reached over and ruffled his hair. Thinking he might as well follow instinct again, he batted away the hand and shoved Hank's arm slightly. "I'm sure I'm not the first to laugh, L-...ah, Hank." "And now you're making fun of me too! What's the world coming to?" Connor thought he just might have to laugh more often.

About the recent Dark happenings on Mark’s channel and my lack of theorizing.

I think this time, I’m just gonna watch the fandom explode and enjoy it, I’m almost never on the outside of the theorizing thing. I’ll chip in to other theories if anyone wants my input, though. :)

Ok so your "do you trust me" was the cutest thing frickin ever! I loved it so much, and I am looking forward to what else you write! =w=

Oh my god, thank you! That’s so nice to hear. I’m excited to write more for you! :)

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!

Catalog Entry #4771 Audio Recording

Subject: Sean W. McLoughlin, 26 Time: 12:00am GST

[keyboard clicking] [short static buzz] SM: What the fuck? [chair creaking] SM: Dammit, I just got this monitor! Really? [static, faint high-pitched laughter] [sighing] [keyboard clicking]

[keyboard clicking] SM: Oh, now you don't wanna turn off? C'mon... Unidentified: Sean...

[chair squeaking, footsteps, door opening] SM: Signe? Did you need something...? [faint voice] SM: Oh...thought I heard you say something, sorry. [door closing, footsteps, chair squeaking] [static] Unidentified: One, two, [indecipherable]...coming for you... [static, faint laughter] SM: Signe! Reminded me to call someone about this monitor, yeah? It's freakin' out on me. [faint voice] SM: I know, brand new! [chair creaking, footsteps, door opening] [door closing, fading footsteps]

[laughter gradually getting louder] [laughter cuts out] Unidentified: This is gonna be fun. [scream of laughter, static]

END OF RECORDING

It legitimately made me think we were about to get Evil!Patton and I was not at all ready

Fanders that are also in the Jacksepticeye community

How triggered were y'all when Patton glitched