#killers who don't have the marks? so now there's more murders and its a cool mystery thing?

[gilded-gheists]

and what if I wrote a scene rewrite of Jennifers body for Kian & Rolan. What would you do then?

[girl4music]

An ode to an incredible character in ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’. Callisto is the greatest “villain” I’ve ever seen on any TV show. I only put quotation marks around the word ‘villain’ because she really wasn’t a villain at all to me. I have a hard time calling her one because she was just depressed and psychotic. She was a misunderstood soul that needed to be saved.

I’m happy she got the ending she deserved in that Xena had to be the one to save her soul as she was who killed it in the first place. I never quite forgave her for that even though it was just backstory when I learned of it. This should have been the reason why she had to die and stay dead in ‘AFIN’ in my opinion instead of that unintentional fucking fire. It was a fire that burned Callisto’s hometown and killed her family too. But it wasn’t an “oopsies, I had no idea I did this because I was grieving and drunk”. It’s was more “I had no awareness or control over what my own army was doing and didn’t care enough to find out”, and therefore much more justified because it wasn’t an accident or a mistake. It was blatant ignorance and wilful negligence of her own actions and choices. If they really wanted Xena’s endgame to be over the implications of a fucking fire - this was how to do it!

I’m fairly certain if the show was flipped on its head and Callisto was the lead protagonist in the show instead, you’d absolutely see that Xena was the villain. So if you have any hard feelings towards Callisto in any way, shape or form, this video will change your mind because it shows Callisto’s side of the story - which is a side you don’t see often enough to realize how complicated of a character she actually is. She’s a woman who never got to be a child. Child of Cirra.

Follow her story of vengeance and hatred through this video and come to see Callisto in a whole new light.

Thank you, Hudson Leick, for giving us all such a phenomenal acting performance every time you were on screen that gave Callisto the necessary depth she needed so that she could be far more than just a villain in an overall story about evil villains turned antiheroes because Xena was never justified for her own villainy and your character took her to task for that and all of that only hit because YOU. WERE. SO. GOOD. It only worked as a narrative because you made it work. Any lesser performer would not have been able to do it.

Sure Callisto had to take the weight of her own crimes but she made sure Xena never was free of that weight at the same time and that’s why I fucking LOVE her!

“I love that girl who plays Callisto in the show. And then, the action in it is a lot of fun. The scripts are really good. There's some really cool storytelling going on. The whole lineage of the story -- the backstory of Xena's character -- is quite magnificent. And I would use the word "magnificent." There's a lot there to be had. The fact that she was an Atilla the Hun kind of killer and pillager. Years passed, Xena turns over this new leaf, but she is haunted, like Clint Eastwood in The Unforgiven -- she was haunted by her evil deeds. And I mean, they were evil, they were truly evil. She wasn't, like, kind of bad. She was an evil, murderous person. Untold numbers of dead during her reign, torture, whole races and tribes that don't exist anymore because of Xena. Now she's fighting for redemption, but she knows she doesn't deserve redemption and she will never get redemption. The only thing she can do is just do good now, on a day to day basis. But she doesn't deserve mercy. She's paying a debt she can never pay and she'll always be paying 10 cents on the dollar. That's rare for a male character. That's just good shit, that's just good indeed. And then Callisto comes back, who is a mirror image of Xena, doing the same murdering and killing with evil intentions -- but she exists only because Xena did it. It's her revenge for Xena, the fact that she created her in her hate. Callisto has every right to kill Xena, and Xena has every right in her own heart to die under Callisto's blade. But Callisto doesn't have the right to kill the innocent people she's killing. Therein lies -- I mean, that's a great conflict.” - Quentin Tarantino, Double Dare.

[creepypocky]

Hello dear! May I have a romantic and Nsfw creepypasta match-up please? Feel free to ignore this if they are closed but if you do choose to do this then thank you so much! I hope you have a great day/night!

Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising

Personality Type: ENTP

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)

I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines.

For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm a big extrovert, goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back. I can have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.

Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting.

Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything. Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.

So for the nsfw part.....I'm very shy and i'd like it if someone guided me. But i'm 100% a Bottom and I love praise and maybe a tiny bit of degradation. I also have a big ownership kink like if someone tells me that i'm their's....then I might die. Also if they told me that they "Needed" me I would also die on the spot...in a good way. I'm also a sucker for marking like lovebites and hickies? Yes please. But please tease me and edge me because I prefer not having control so someone else being in control is just...lovely. Also pet names! Like Sunshine, Babygirl, Doll....AHHhh I might melt. Things I don't like are impact play or the whole "Daddy kink" It kinda just makes me cringe

I also don't think I really have a type but.....I do tend to love people who are brooding, and intimidating on the outside but a big teddy bear on the inside because that's how I am sometimes. I hate people who are fake or just passive aggressive because they are super annoying to deal with and honestly if you have something to say then just say it to my face rather than behind my back.

Hello :)

|| I enjoyed reading through this. I'll definitely work on it now. ||

I match you with ~ Jeff The Killer!

First off, he really likes your size and style, he has a think for small girls that can still be tough and that’s something he loves showing off when you get together lmfao, he’s like, “Yeah, my girls strong. Fuck you gonna do about it?”

Now, Jeff is a really unstable, violent guy. A lot of people (even me) don’t even see him ever being interested in being in a relationship, so when the creeps saw Jeff with his arm around you, they were immediately baffled by it.

The truth is, though, this man totally wants to have someone by his side, someone that accepts him even though he’s a killer. Someone that’s open to his feelings and is willing to look past all of the horrible shit he’s done.

You’re like that to him, it took him a very long time to get used to how he felt for you at first. At first he thought his brain was just being stupid, but Jeff isn’t dumb. He knows what these feelings feel like, and he recognized them almost immediately after that.

Jeff is really insane, and he constantly leans on you for support and depends on you to keep him leveled at times. It can get pressuring, but despite it all he always makes sure to not blame you if he ends up doing something dumb because he knows it’s not your fault.

He finds your clothing style pretty hot, he really loves badass kind of outfits with leather and band names, because as I said, he loves to show off that his girl is “cool” or something.

He thinks your resting bitch-face and cold exterior is really badass too, being around you always gives him so much confidence and its a great change from the usual fake confidence he has around everyone that he keeps up as a defense mechanism when in reality he was always pretty insecure.

I honestly think Jeff is an extrovert too, like he loves being around people and interacting with them (When they’re not normal people and don’t think he’s hideous, that is). I canon this mostly because when hes alone, then he’s also alone with his thoughts and his thoughts always end up wandering to his insecurities and what he hates about himself, but you often catch him during these times and you reassure him that everything will be okay and that you still love him.

He totally relates to being the friend that says stupidest shit, you two will often just go up to one of the creeps and just start spouting random shit. He honestly fucking loves being goofy with you, and you two are always creating awesome memories together when you prank the other creeps and sometimes each other and he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you do stupid shit that gets you in trouble or puts you in danger, he’s always quick to get to you and make sure you’re okay, he would probably panic a lot though. Like, “What the fuck, dumbass?” “How the HELL did you do that???“ as he’s frantically trying to solve the situation. Will most definitely sit there and laugh at you for a good 5-10 minutes once the whole thing is dealt with though.

You being able to stick up for your friends is one of the great qualities about you that he absolutely adores, especially since before he became a killer he would always get bullied and nobody would ever stick up for him, so one day when you defend him against a bunch of assholes it just warms his heart up and makes him feel so loved, but he most likely wont admit that.

He’d let it slip eventually though.

When you’re feeling self-destructive, he is 100% there for you. Although he’s not really the best at giving advice, he’ll still sit there with you and let you talk your heart out and will listen to every single word because he wants to show that same contribution towards you that you’ve shown him. He’ll constantly reassure you that not everything is your fault and that you’re strong, and he’ll make little promises to you.

If it was a person in particular making you feel that way though, he’d definitely make sure to pay a visit to the motherfucker.

He admires your determination to fight for the things you want, but to an extent. He hates it when you overwork yourself or push beyond your limits to the point where it destroys you, and he wants you to know that you’re not alone and you can ask for help, you don’t have to destroy yourself. He’s more than willing to stay right there, by your side.

He understands hiding your true emotions, because well, he’s had to do it a lot around the other creeps and around his family when they were still alive. So he won’t ever push you to talk about somehting if you don’t want to, but he doesn’t want you to pretend to be okay either. He’s more than willing to just lay with you and do whatever you want if it would make you feel better.

He honestly likes how you have a southern accent at times, when he’s feeling upset or like his sanity is draining, your accent really soothes him so sometimes he’ll ask you to lay it on thick because he could honestly listen to you talk to him and listen to your accent all day if he wanted to.

It’s good that you like cigarette smoke because I canon this man smokes very often.

When it storms at night, he’ll always hold you close to him with a blanket and just listen to the storm sounds with you because it soothes him too. This man is really pent up from feeling driven to constantly murder and just sitting with you listening to the rain and thunder is one of the main things that level him.

He’s really not the best.... at cooking.... but, this means you can cook often for him since he won’t for himself. B)

He will just put you in a car and drive for hours to no destination and blast that 80s and 90s music just to see that smile on your face.

This man will 100000000000% destroy any spider within a 10 mile radius of you.

He understands not liking people who are fake because there were a lot of people who talked shit about him when he went to school, and when he has a problem with someone he will always say it to their face and make them understand that they’re a piece of shit to him.

NSFW:

You like being dominated and guided? Good, because this man is at least 95% a top. He thinks it’s adorable that you’re shy and will most definitely be willing to guide you through the whole thing and tell you exactly what to do for him.

Jeff is really possessive tbh, so when he’s fucking you he will constantly say shit like,

“Fucking mine”

“You’re nobody elses“

“You belong to me, only”

This man will definitely bite you everywhere, he lives to just throw you down onto the bed and start biting everywhere on your body and making sure to leave marks just so you know exactly who owns you.

Don’t worry honey, he will spend hours just filling you with his cock and telling you that you cant cum unless you beg more, or he’ll just pull out right when you’re about to cum on him and just slap your folds with his fingers as a way to make fun of you.

He’ll call you things like, “baby” “dollface” “darling” when he’s feeling passionate but oh boy if he’s feeling angry or he’s punishing you? Be prepared to be degraded all night.

There we go <3

Sorry if this is too long lmfao, I just think that Jeff is a really misunderstood piece of shit. I hope you’re having a great day and taking care of yourself, and I hope you enjoyed this matchup. :)

[randomshipperhere]

Since Toast uploaded the 7k IQ video which is the start of the Lud-Syk trolling duo, more peeps are getting interested about the incident again and I have a lot of thoughts.

I personally believe the most annoying thing about the whole Sykkuno incident a few days ago is that SOME people are like:

"Oh, Corpse would've made sure he was okay" or "Corpse would've done a better job at protecting/defending him"

and some of these people are the same that hate and blame Valkyrae and Toast for what happened. Emphasis on some since most people just want to show their appreciation to Sykkuno and try to comfort him in their own fan way.

Really fucking irks me how they romanticize and make Corpse and Sykkuno seem so much closer than they actually are. There are many friendships like this so I'm used to the life cycle but that doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off everytime.

(Hey remember when Septiplier was at its peak and people pushed away Bob and Wade despite being literal friends with Mark for years prior to YT. Or when Ethan and Tyler first hopped on board[specifically Ethan] and when the trio would play with a 4th person that isn't Jack they would just go apeshit)

I am also not joking or taking it too far but this kind of thinking really pisses me off

You know what Corpse would've done? He would've been the same as Lud. Lud and Corpse are just new friends. There are still walls and boundaries that they have yet to pass and they really can't do more than what Lud has done. I am a shipper, it is in my username. I live off of the idea of romance. But to drag a real life person that a lot of people romantically ship with in a VERY personal situation (personal enough that Syk would not even tell anyone on stream his problems) is not cool.

The playful yelling was the tipping point. It wasn't the cause. Rae and Toast are both known for their tough love to Sykkuno.

Like look, in those series of events, Ludwig was the most outwardly protective person of Sykkuno in the last game. That was pretty much all he could do due to his limitations and I'm sure Sykkuno really appreciated that. He was body guarding Sykkuno, stood up and talked for him when he was clearly sad, choked up even. Until his character's dying breath. He stood by his side. More like when the lights turned off but you get it. It was sweet, it was nice, he really tried his best (and I love him for it).

The thing is though Ludwig wasn't the only one who tried to help Sykkuno that round. Valkyrae who is known to love killing Sykkuno (for the memes) killed the other 2 people and fessed up for her crimes. One is because she was caught in the act of killing in the 1st meeting by Toast and two, upon realizing that Sykkuno was dead in the 2nd meeting she felt guilty and just admitted to the murder. She wanted to speedrun so Sykkuno could play again sooner. Right after, Toast calls button and gets to avenge Sykkuno by voting out the other impostor, his killer, Tubbo. Toast didn't even get to explain why Tubbo is the killer, he just made him fess up. To say they remotely didn't care is really fucking pissing me off.

BTW I watched Lud and Toast's streams for this specific match and I will say this, Toast had nothing to go off to know for sure that Sykkuno was sad. Him and Rae were trolling back and most likely didn't know how bad Sykkuno's day was. He doesn't read the comments on his live so when he was trying to find Sykkuno in the 1st round, with Rae (for the most part) that says a lot about how much he knows what Syk was feeling at the time with what little info he had. After pressing answers for him in the 1st meeting he just stopped and pretty much figured out what was happening.

Now another thing. After the match, Sykkuno is obviously sad and said he was going to go and get dinner, Rae follows up by saying she has to head out. We sure as hell know that these guys could stream for hours but she stopped there and even deleted her VOD as well. Now why could she have done that. Oh yeah. She must've talked with him. About what. I think you all know at this point. With two people quickly leaving, and two VERY important people in this "drama", Toast changed discussion and asked if the MC server was back up which made the others leave, ending their Among Us game that day. He left a parting message to the viewers and called it a day there.

2:16:50 is where the "yelling" starts and 2:26:00 is where he said this

Toast: Chat, Sykkuno's fine, okay?He's an adult. Okay. You don't have to tell me, or his friends, or him what to feel or what to do.

It's really disrespectful. Knock it off

Now tell me, what about that makes you think they don't care?

Are we also just forgetting that it was Rae that helped push Sykkuno to create his own lobby with people he loves playing with a while back? How this Tsunderae tells him how good of a player he is even when he thinks he just got lucky (god damn, Valorant days).

Are we forgetting how Toast was probably the most important person that helped Sykkuno grow confident in himself? When they hang out together and the bits we've heard from the podcasts, Sykkuno absolutely treasures his friendship with Toast the most (There have been multiple occassions where Sykkuno and Toast are caught on-cam or at least heard in the mic speaking to each other, more often than not in Lily's Just Chatting streams. In fact, I wouldn't put it past those two to be the ones talking in Yvonne's "I got a cat" video and the most popular clip from that was Sykkuno eating a sandwhich which is titled "SUSKKUNO")

The first recent example that came to mind was Lily and Michael's birthday stream.

It happens around 23:00

In other news Sykkuno and Lily's friendship is underrated and I don't understand how y'all sleep on it.

My parting words are Parasocial Relationships suck. Okay, good night.

[lotornomiko]

Dark Enchanted Forest AU That I don't Yet Have A Title For Chapter Two (worksafe)

Still hasn’t reached the dark fic level....but warnings as with chapter one, this WILL have some non con/forced seduction/rape and other dark themes...but not in this chapter!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26137747/chapters/63588682

It was never more brilliant than in moments like this, the light alive in her green eyes, and burning with an open defiance. With that desperate anger, and an inner borne strength, it left the Darkness with no doubts about just what it was dealing with.

“Beautiful…” It breathed out the word with a tongue long unused to such flattering words, the Dark more intimately familiar with uttering vile promises, and snarling with rage. But then it had never had real reason for much of anything else, everything so weak and unworthy when compared to this. The vision with that glow about her, the small super nova of pure and unabashed light that once seen could never be forgot. Nor did it want to, the dark transfixed by the light, by its wholesome purity and natural warmth.

It left the Dark One wanting to bask in its presence, to curl up and around it like a dragon hoarding its greatest treasure. It wanted MORE than that, the darkness needing to take so fully from the light as to devour it from shining head to delectable toe. Possessive to a fault, the dark creature wanted to OWN this light, every last inch of it, from the inside out, to the body who played host to it, to the soul it was interlaced with.

That was the vessel’s one and only saving grace, the light she was blessed with, the reason why the woman wasn’t dead on the forest floor. The light marked her as special, and painted a target effectively on her back. She was branded and beaming, and so unequivocally HIS. Now more than ever, the dark ready to toss his head back and laugh, that taunting sound one of pure victory, the light reborn in a form that the dark could now possess.

Made giddy with that realization, and the thoughts of what would soon follow, it was that elation AND the pain of a sword piercing true the heart of the Dark One’s host, that afforded a slim window of chance. Another being inside him began to stir, one Killian Jones reluctantly opening HIS eyes after nearly two decades of sleep.

“Ow.” said the man swallowed up by the dark, but that complaint was more angry than hurt. It was his eyes that blinked against the blinding light, his hand that raised to shield THEIR eyes from the vision before them. The dark snarled at the human’s impertinence, Killian Jones showing more initiative than he had in a good long century.

The dark turned furious, and ever a jealous thing, made a grab for the light that was still working on stabbing them. Weak though the effort was, it would have proven effective, had the creature that light was up against, been something that could actually DIE. It couldn’t. Not from that sword, not from any of those arrows, not from anything those pathetic mortal hands could devise. The dark, an absolute being, would ALWAYS exist, in one form or another, so long as a single human knew fear, knew hate, or greed, the many violent desires, the angry little impulses, and the innate terror of the unknown. It was that of their undesirable natures that had called the eldritch being into existence, the dark one borne the first time the first human had shown fear.

That fear the palpable scent that had called to the dark from out of the primordial ooze, it had brought with it the corruption and lust that has plagued humankind. Every last undesirable sin, the Dark One has been there for it all, spawning wars, causing untold devastation, as human after human ultimately turned on one another. Stealing, murdering, even torturing, it had been an unbridled chaos for so many a millennia, the people thrust into a nightmare seeming without end.

With no hope, and no chance to do—be better, the people had been in need of a savior. They got one in the form of a Goddess like no other, that ethereal shine that blazed brighter than any sun, splitting into the dark, bringing kindness and daylight to a humanity that had been suffering. She was everything the dark was not, so beautiful and sublime, and so uniquely her own.

The Dark lusting for the first time ever, could not be beaten back fully by that light. Anymore than that bright beam of purity, could be extinguished by the dark. They were forced to coexist, the light the yin to the yang of the dark one. Just like the cycle of night and day, the dark was in perpetual chase of that sun, its greedy nature one that had a violent want, a need to possess so fully the light, and spirit it away from the eyes of all.

For many a millennia, a status quo had existed, the dark’s evil corrupting influence, somewhat tempered by the light of day. Calmed but not snuffed out completely, man an inherently wicked creature by nature. The light tried to be the guiding force needed, but with no real tangible presence to either of them, the humans soon moved on, forgetting that there was more to the night, and more to the day.

Abandoned, the light neither held a grudge, nor grew forgetful of those people, so young and child like in mind, when compared to the two beings who held such immense power over them. No longer acknowledge, both the light and the dark merely existed as whispers in ears, the light full of love and encouragement, sparking a great many things, works of arts, whole civilizations, love and an appreciation of all life, hers was a message of hope and peace that the darkness ever sought to distort. Where her love saw great teeming cities born, the dark’s lust had those kingdoms fight, war devastating the land and everyone around it.

The dark wasn’t satisfied with just wars. It was crazed for the light that was never in true reach, and its impotent fury at being denied, backlash onto the humans, in creatively cruel ways. A new kind of murderer was born, a depraved mind that got off on the ritualistic killing of people, no rhyme or real reason behind such an act except to cause new found heights of suffering among what the light considered her children.

Serial killers, rapists, torture most foul, the lust and greed to expand an empire, to take everything from another, all ideas the dark planted in the depths of human kind. Husbands turn against wives, parents against children, abuse of all kind being birthed, the dark determined to make depraved all that which the light had gifted to the people.

Rampaging wild and free, the light could tolerate no more the dark’s cruel nature. The dark remembers that too, the day when the final straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back, came. The elation that it had felt, the euphoric feeling to finally be a few steps in reach of the trembling light. They had no real forms, lacked any true substance to them, and yet the dark crowded in close all the same. Eating away at the edge of the light’s shine, coming closer and closer, coiling around it as a thick wispy smoke that would cover and snuff that brilliance from the world.

Ready to take the light for its own, the dark moved those last inches, eager tendrils reaching for that purity. There was no hesitation, only greed and the need to possess, to be the soul keeper of the light. The warmth the dark experienced at that first touch could have melted glaciers, so potent a heat was it, leaving the darkness to purr and bask in its strength.

It had been a strength the darkness should have heeded, a danger there it had not taken notice of. It curled closer and tighter around the light, until only a sliver of it was left to be seen, and THAT is when it had happened. Such power unlike anything the dark had expected, that warmth a violence unbecoming of the light. It beat back the dark, sent him torpedoing a great distance into a mountain which decimated on the spot.

At first, the Dark One was confused, not understanding why such an impact could be FELT. The dark, like the light had no tangible form, all ethereal smoke and effervescence brilliance. He struggled beneath the crumbling ruins of the mountain, felt the dust from the wreckage settle thickly on his BODY. An inhale brought with it smoke that made the darkness choke, its eyes watering in response as bit by bit, the realizations came. Two arms, two legs, a torso, a head and a beating heart.

“What have you done...” A cracked voice demanded. “What have you done…!?” He stared up at a light that was dwindling, falling down in a shower of these faded remnant that could barely be called sparks. At the sight of them, the last dying breath of the light, the dark lurched forward, barely registering his speed. Trying to catch hold of any and all that he could reach, the exhausted remnants of light faded from existence, leaving only a warmth that quickly cooled into cold metal.

Its fingers curled around it, uncaring of the way the blade bit and bled its skin. That unwanted heart beat a thunderous sound, deafening the dark to its screams, the creature raging, barely able to comprehend, the light gone from this world. The dark one was besides himself, hating the light for its trickery, but also feeling an emptiness inside it at its loss. The dark so bereft and inconsolable, could not do anything but mourn, an inhuman sound of pain bellowing throughout the cosmos.

The dark knows exactly to the day, how long it has been since the light left him. Can count it down to the exact second, entire millennia having passed, the dark left to rampage and riot retaliation upon the light’s beloved children. It mattered not what form he wore, what human hosted him, the dark always found a way to ultimately corrupt and overpower its bearer, discarding bodies as easily as one might trash.

Filth that he considered the humans to be, it was not just the dark who took notice of the light. Of the form it now inhabited. It felt the man’s appreciation, and the dawning horror at the sight.

“No...No...No!” Killian Jones screamed from inside, trying to wrest control of a body that was no longer truly his. The dark held them still for this, turning inwards as though to slap the human inside him quiet.

“I can’t do this...” Killian Jones whispered in a broken tone of voice. “I can’t be the instrument that lets you torture and kill yet another!”

The dark bared its teeth in a snarl, more than a reprimand held in its claws. It scraped those sharp tips over the man’s SOUL, heard the satisfying sound of his pained response. Between that and the all too real sword piercing Killian Jones’ heart, the man was in a world of hurt.

“Stop it...” He begged, weak as ever. “STOP IT!” It was no strength to stand up to the power backlash off of the creature so wholly in control. Inside the vessel, the human that hosted the darkness, fell to his knees in sobbing pain.

Satisfied with the sight, the dark turned its attention back to the light. It was still as brilliant a gleam as ever, all gold and shining, with a tiny hint of jade peeking through. It was beautiful, a stunning vision fit only for the dark, its lips curving into a wicked smile.

“Caught you at long last.” Came the taunt. Its hand around the light’s delicate wrist, began to squeeze, and a gasp from its host was heard. She could not maintain her grip on the sword, and the dark did not relax its punishing grip, pulling her off balance, even as wispy tendrils of ink black smoke began washing over that weapon.

“Just WHAT were you thinking?” The Darkness demanded, the sword melting into nothing with a demonstration of power. “Coming here with a weapon you know can do no damage.”

“I...I had to try.” Came the pained answer, the Dark One still squeezing her wrist just short of breaking. “Someone has to...someone WILL put an end to you and your reign of terror!”

That wasn’t the light, the dark grabbing its host by the throat, cutting off her words and her air. “We BOTH know better than that.” It leaned into her, breathing in the scent of her sweat and fear, a tongue snaking out to lick a cheek clean of a single tear.

“Sweet.” The Darkness moaned. “As I always knew you would be.” Its fingers squeezed to the point of bruising, the light starting to flicker and dim. The shine went down to the point even the human could see, a despairing Killian Jones taking note in a detached kind of way, the woman’s beauty.

Long golden blonde hair, those jade green eyes that were currently welling up with tears, the pale skin made an angry pink as lushly pouting lips choked for air. Desperate and dying as she was, there was a fight to her, her free hand scrabbling at the darkness’ fist, her legs kicking out, a foot trying for the wound in his thigh. The darkness felt none of it, shuttling the pain off to the human inside, the howling screams of one Killian Jones echoing in its ears.

With that sound inside it, the dark was able to admit to the finely crafted form of the light, this human a fitting representation of what a Goddess should be. It purred its approval, pressed its body against hers, and only then did it relax its grip.

To the sound of her desperate breaths, the dark nuzzled its nose into the golden sunshine of her hair, felt the warmth flowing off of her, and let loose with its greedy nature. Hands that had just been hurtful and violent, now roamed with a blatant impudence, feeling up the shape and form of its Goddess made real, the darkness intent on learning every new inch of her.

It heard the gasp, the outrage laced in that sound. “I am Emma, Princess of Mist Haven and you will RUE the day….”

“Emma...” It tasted the name on its lips, heard the sultry purr of its voice repeating it. The Dark One liked having her name, for with it came power, and control, no one knowing better than the Darkness what magic a name could wrought.

“Kill me if you will...” The woman continued. “But know you will bring the wrath of my kingdom itself upon your head!”

“Kill you?” The darkness arched a brow she could not see. “I am not going to kill you, Emma of Mist Haven…” It leaned into her face, so close their lips could almost touch. “I’m going to KEEP you.”

“Wh...what?” Came the shaky breath, and inside the Dark felt Killian Jones lifting his head. His voice was an echo of the princess, but even more shocked, for the man had witnessed the Darkness kill tribute after tribute for longer than he cared to remember.

“You’re mine now...and I keep what is MINE.”

“N...No. I’m not yours!” protested the woman. “I will NEVER be yours!”

With those words, the fiery gleam of defiance blazed in her eyes, the woman glaring and fighting, the light that came from within her, growing stronger. The darkness couldn’t stop staring, memorized by that beautiful brilliance, a fight within the woman that was all her own, Emma of Mist Haven kicking, even biting at the lips so close to hers.

“Oh ho ho….” The Darkness breathed out a chuckle. “She is PERFECT. For you and for ME!”

A scream was its answer, frightened, but under laying the fear, was that strength of anger and pride, the woman fighting more, flailing out with her arms as though searching for a weapon, even as it caused her pain, the wounds inflicted earlier bleeding even more.

The light inside her seemed to flicker angrily, as though it was reacting to the woman’s distress. Supporting it, supporting HER, the light trying to bolster this princess with all the strength it could lend. The dark narrowed its eyes at that, watching and thinking, and coming away with the realization that the light was no longer a real match in power when compared to the dark and its host. They were strong in physicality and brute force, while the light and its host, seemed to focus all its strength from the spirit.

Defiant though they were, they sputtered and sparked more like a kitten than a cat. All bluster and bravado, there was not a thing the light could do, now that it had finally be found. And that suited the dark just fine, the woman pulled into the shadows, those inky wisps of tendrils covering them both.

-----------------------------------------------------------

To Be Continued…

Hmm...not sure whose point of view will be next chapter. Maybe it will be a double one...Not sure if this is a good spot to end a chapter on, but it felt like otherwise it would turn into the chapter that NEVER ends.

Had some dark and light origin in here, but this is only touching the tip of the iceberg so to speak. Haven’t really gotten to it being a DARK fic yet though….but hopefully its building to there…

Wrote this one on only four hours sleep too...X_X

---Michelle

[skriaki]

Resistance: Fall of Man GAME REVIEW (PlayStation 3)

For better or worse, Sony has a history of trying new things. The PS2 in particular had such an overwhelming market dominance during the 6th console generation that Sony had all kinds of weird franchises going. Some of them never went anywhere, but others survived to fight the next console war. Ratchet and Clank was one of the success stories, from the now-famous Insomniac (recent developers of the PS4 Spider-Man game), and after a few instalments of action platforming they decided to mix things up.

Resistance is a first-person shooter and easily one of the better-known PS3 launch titles, though it has to be said that the PS3 had a notoriously shaky early life. Truth be told, MotorStorm is the only other launch game I remember with any clarity. So Resistance had a bit of a reputation boost by virtue of not having a lot of competition, but that doesn't mean it's bad. I've seen reviews that call it either a killer app or a massive disappointment. In reality, I think it's somewhere in the middle.

Far and away what stands out most is the setting. Resistance takes place in an alternate 1950s where the Russian Revolution never happened because the Tunguska Event of 1908 turned out to be carrying some kind of horrific virus. Russia went into lockdown for many years without anyone else knowing why, only for an army of mutated former Russians to suddenly swarm over the walls and overrun Europe and Asia. Being islands, Britain and Ireland hold out for a while until the monsters dig their own Eurostar tunnel. You play an exceptionally boring American soldier who's flown into York (the old one) without adequate briefing just as the invasion gets underway.

I really like this kind of alternate history setup, as evidenced by my covetous love for Wolfenstein: The New Order, and Resistance takes its wacky concept very seriously. England is a surprisingly uncommon setting for a game as well, especially outside of London, and it's cool to see a war-ravaged depiction of places like Manchester and Nottingham. This is the kind of game that might be overly reliant on text logs to flesh out its world, but I was always genuinely excited to find out details like America's militant isolationism (what else is new?) or the sad story of a squad hunted by unknown assailants. The Chimera are the real stars, especially since the human characters are pretty disposable, and throughout the story they become increasingly well-entrenched until it's clear that Britain has fallen and the Chimera have the home team advantage.

So the tone is as far removed from Ratchet and Clank's cartoon antics as it could possibly be, but the gameplay still bears some resemblance under all the grey and brown. Insomniac are famous for their crazy weaponry and even Resistance's starter carbine has a grenade launcher. All the guns have a secondary fire that helps give them a distinct place in your arsenal, rather than being fairly interchangeable like the rifles in Killzone, and Insomniac didn't miss the opportunity for weird alien guns. The Bullseye is inaccurate but the secondary fire marks a target which your shots will then home in on. The Auger can shoot through walls and the secondary drops a shield for you to hide behind. Even better, you can carry all the guns at once (which is something Resistance 2 sadly fucked up), so at any time you can bring up the selection wheel as the situation demands.

The Chimera are notoriously bullet-spongey, unfortunately. In particular they have this one animation where they *start* to fall over before standing up again, which is pretty infuriating. Death can come very swiftly on the harder modes, despite the health system which regenerates up to each quarter of the bar, so I personally didn't feel any shame playing on easy mode just to compensate for the more annoying design quirks. Until you know the levels it's quite common for a hybrid to sneak up and pepper your arse with lasers.

Still, at least the game runs well. It actually runs noticably smoother than Resistance 3, since a lot of later seventh-gen games sacrifice frame rate for graphics. Resistance 1 isn't much of a looker these days but it holds up better than something like Killzone 2 because it doesn't feel as if the PS3 is about to catch fire.

Unfortunately, some of that performance is probably due to the mid-game slump; halfway through the level design starts to rely on underground corridors without even a pretence of exploration. This is one of the main symptoms of Resistance's launchgameitus. It doesn't help that the story loses a lot of steam at the same time. But then there are some vehicle segments which almost have the opposite problem, particularly when you're driving around a lovingly-rendered but fairly empty Cheddar Gorge. This middle third is when I'd probably have gotten flustered with the occasional cheap death if I hadn't played on easy mode. Still, things definitely pick up when the military decide to make a final push into London (it's always fucking London) so they can attack the Death Star's thermal exhaust port.

Resistance is your classic launch title: a middle-of-the-road game which seemed better when everyone had a limited selection of choices and no money after paying Sony's extortionate price for a big black sandwich toaster. I probably wouldn't have been so forgiving if I hadn't played it in that context, but I can forgive a game for a lot if it tries something interesting. While the sequels upped the scale and tightened up the gameplay, the original Resistance has an atmosphere of mystery that was never quite matched. The Chimera are a threatening and unnerving presence, especially when we learn details like how those big metal bits in their backs are cooling equipment that keeps their hyperactive metabolisms from burning out. The contrast of mid-1900s quaintness with high-tech alien technology is also really effective, and despite being a completely stock protagonist I did feel a bit of Nathan Hale's awe and trepidation when standing in the shadow of an snow-covered London crawling with mutant abominations.

Resistance is series that never quite lived up to its full potential. Still, getting murdered by alien sharpshooters on the underground is still more pleasant than actually commuting in London.

(3/5)

Availability: Resistance 1 and 2 only seem to be playable on PS3, but physical copies are extremely cheap so don't be suckered into paying a tenner for the digital version. Otherwise you can get Resistance 3 on the PS4 store, either as a single purchase or as part of PlayStation Now. The latter service only lets you stream it, as opposed to downloading, but it's perfectly playable so long as you have good internet. I actually like Playstation Now quite a lot because the service got a big price cut (since Microsoft's Game Pass was kicking its arse) and you can download a hundred or so games, but the rest are stream-only. It'd be nice to get some modern ports but it doesn't seem likely unless the franchise makes a comeback.

[jaspitch]

Saturday Night at the Library

-Mike + September actually getting along?!??!?!?

.......

It was a breezy night, the cool air seeping into the library that September now owned. Two months since Storm was found in the back storage area, blood pouring from her mouth and stuffed in a garbage can. He didn't know what hurt more; her death or the fact the killer hadn't been caught.

They marked it down as robbery, but he knew different. Pushing his glasses up on his nose, the brunette stared at the clock. Mike should be here soon. Barely tolerable, hotheaded Michael Schmidt. He didn't love the guy, but he was a walking relic of Storm. Even on rare occasion, her vanilla scented perfume would wafe off the man's hair from her odd fascination with his black locks.

As expected, he arrived exactly at 9 P.M, seemingly less tainted in anger than normal. "Hey, Charles! Got a newspaoer for ya!" September nodded slowly, folding his hands under his chin. Mike joined him at the table, unfolding the paper as he swiftly skimmed over the article. "They've got two suspects for her murder right now. William and uh- Elijah."

"Elijah? That skittish boy? I doubt it." He yawned with an unimpressed expression, stretching his legs as he sped read over the paper. Elijah was the current janitor, though he was more or less an illegal teen who could give minimal labor for minimal pay.

"Hey, its an option. I think Scott did it, still. He was way too interested in her."

"So were you."

The man's blue eyes glared back, sourness seeping into his face despite September's smirk. "Didn't anyone ever tell you, poor little Mike, to stay away from things that aren't yours?"

Mike gritted his teeth as September stood up. Why was he always fucking bitching? And talking about their mutual dead friend like she was an object? "Where are you going?!" He hissed, standing up as the brunnette chuckled. "Getting our notes. I found out some information, too, so sit your ass down."

After a quick glance over everything they had, both were certain it had to be William or Scott. The two were mighty suspicious, but next to each other, they compared equal. "Mmm..." September bit his inner cheek, unaware of the crystal blue eyes watching his every move. Mike would never admit it, but he adored the small habits that September picked up from Storm.

The shifting of the shoulders when nervous, biting the cheek when deep in thought, taking in a deep exhale and Slowly breathing out to control anger. Not that Storm was every really angry. "It's a shame I don't work at Freddy's. I'd like to Intimidate Scott myself. He's real jumpy still, huh?'

Mike nodded, chuckling as September eyed him with those perfect green orbs of his.... Mike really needed to slap him self out of this! He wasn't an odd one, and he hated September. Their one mutual issue was Storm, and then they'd be back to never speaking.

But what if- just maybe- he could learn to like his ex coworker? One more meeting to those bright green eyes assured him that his fantasy would never come true. Because despite having a good time together, September was still colder than dry ice.

[glare-gryphon]

May I put in a prompt? If you're totally burnt out on this verse, just ignore this. In the Negotiation-verse what would it be like if instead of the whole drugging and kidnapping business, they ended up sorting out the kiss and dating. Anakin has no idea his boyfriend is a serial killer. Could be serious, fluff, total crack or hell it could be Quin mocking Anakin about his hickies. I don't care.

This prompt has been sitting in my inbox for so long. I am almost ashamed.

Here u go.

Alternative

Negotiation-Verse

M/E, 2000 words.

A sharp rap at Anakin’s office door draws the detective’sattention away from the mountain of reports piled up on his desk. With no majorleads to chase at the moment, he’s been working on filling them out all morningand is grateful for whatever reprieve that the day can provide.

When he’d first become an officer, he couldn’t believe howmuch paperwork was involved in the day-to-day operations of a police station.He’d hated it then, and he still hates it now. Usually he tries to shove it offon Quinlan whenever he thinks he can get away with it, but Ventress has sweptVos away for some business conference she has to attend overseas and now Anakinis stuck catching up on both of their overdue reports. He supposes thatturnabout is fair play, no matter how much he would like to complain otherwise.

“Come in,” he calls, swiveling his office chair toward thedoor just in time for it to crack open, revealing one Coruscant Universityprofessor, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Is now a bad time?” Kenobi asks, leaning against thedoorframe with a wry smile on his lips, as though already predicting Anakin’sanswer.

“Never a bad time for you,” Anakin replies, moving files offhis desk in attempt to clear a place for Obi-Wan to sit while the other mancloses the door behind him. He doesn’t here the soft snick of the lock, caught up as he is in his work, but he doesnotice the smirk on Kenobi’s lips when the man settles into the space hecleared. “What brought you over this way, babe?”

Obi-Wan shrugs. “Had a class cancelled, and just wanted tosee you. I don’t need an excuse to do that, do I?”

“No, I suppose you don’t.”

Apparently satisfied, Obi-Wan turns his attention to thefiles on Anakin’s desk. While it is technically against the rules for Kenobi tobe thumbing through them as though they were magazines in the checkout lanes ofgrocery stores, Anakin doesn’t see any particular harm in it. His partner isdiscreet, and isn’t the type to go blabbing about the detective’s cases toanyone he knows. Not like their social life is particularly riveting anyways,with most of their friends connected to the police force by way of Anakin’semployment. Really, there was no one to gossip with who wasn’t already in theloop; while Obi-Wan was popular enough with his coworkers, he didn’t maintainany particularly close relationships with any of them.

“Why was your class cancelled?” Anakin asks as Obi-Wanshifts paperwork around, digging through them to find something that catcheshis interest. Most of what is on Anakin’s desk these days is common muggingsand break-ins. Tedious work, but essential toward keeping the generalpopulation of Coruscant safe. He sometimes thinks he would like something moreexciting, but the more rational part of him knows that there will plenty ofthat come the Christmas season. He should spend the off months luxuriating inpicking up petty thieves instead of internal organs.

A hum of satisfaction marks Obi-Wan having found somethinghe likes, and the man answers with his nose buried in the pages of the file.“Not enough students registered. Apparently my Survey of Shakespeare coursedoesn’t have quite the same draw as it used to.”

“Kids today have no respect for the classics,” Anakinreplies, not because he himself has any particular interest in the works of along-dead playwright, but because he knows Kenobi likes to grumble about thedecay of society and youths today.

Leaning over in his chair to get a view of the file hispartner is reading, Anakin is not particularly surprised to find the Negotiatorfile in the man’s hands once again. Since the start of their relationship, he’sshown a keen interest in following along with the case as Anakin attempts totrack down the most prolific serial killer prowling Coruscant’s streets. Thisis hardly uncommon; nearly everyone he’s ever met are curious about theNegotiator case, as high-profile as it is.

“Do you think you’re any closer to catching him?” Obi-Wanasks, drawing a picture from the disorder and holding it up to the light asthough to get a better look.

It’s of one of the latest cycle’s crime scenes, another ofAnakin’s not-quite brothers left brutalized and bared for the world to see. Thepattern has changed again, much to Anakin’s frustration. While before they knewthe Negotiator was luring his victims with sex, the seduction seems to havetrailed off entirely with his newest set of victims. In its place are drugs—thecheap kind, easy to get on the street and difficult to trace for their prolificnature—slipped into drinks at busy clubs with distracted bartenders.

The level of brutality in thesemurders had risen with the exclusion of sex, each victim bearing more of thebruising and evidence of assault only sporadically found in older victims. Thescenes themselves had changed as well, no longer as careful and precise as theyonce were. Not rushed, by any means, or sloppy. Not enough to leave evidencebehind. But Anakin, when he looked at the cuts and the gaping, open wounds,could tell that each one had not been given the same carefulconsideration they once might have received.

“Not really,” Anakin confesses, and Obi-Wan frowns as he draws another picturefrom the file. The Negotiator’s pattern had always been consistent, its onedrastic change clearly instigated by Anakin arrival on the case. What hadcaused this most recent change, he can’t quite figure out. There are a fewpieces, in the rush of his work, but they connect to nothing of significance.No events that Anakin can identify.

“Made a bit of a mess, didn’t it…” the man mutters distastefully, more to himselfthan to Anakin as he grimaces at the picture. It had been a mess, blood usuallydrained away left cool and tacky on the floor and of the county library. Limbshas been shelved neatly away with the books, the head and heart sitting on thelibrarian’s desk when police arrived. There was no note for Anakin, nor hadthere been one this whole cycle. He’s unsure whether or not this comes as arelief that the targeting has stopped, or as warning that his nemesis had begunto lose interest in their game.

“It was messier than usual.” Anakin informs his partner. “I told the guys—Ithink he had a workstation somewhere, and for whatever reason, he can’t getback to it as much anymore. He’s having to work on fly, and it’s not as cleanas it might have been otherwise,”

Obi-Wan hums thoughtfully, offering the younger man a wry smile as he replacesthe picture and sets the file aside. “Perhaps he has someone to go home to, atthe end of the night.”

Anakin chuckles at the jest. “Is there true love for serial killers?”

“There’s true love for anyone, if you look within the pages of literature,”Obi-Wan replies, leaning over to run his fingers through Anakin’s hair.“Princes and paupers, knights and beggars.”

Anakin doesn’t resist when his partner uses his grip on his hair to draw himover, leaning eagerly across the desk and into Obi-Wan’s space. “Cops andserial killers; you and me,” the man breathes, and pulls Anakin into a kissthat is anything but chaste.

Obi-Wan, he has come to find sincetheir initial encounter, is an excellent kisser. When they’re together, it’slike the world around them fades away, as cliché as it sounds. He never used tothink it a thing that could actually happen, but when it comes to Obi-Wan, hesupposes it makes sense. The man himself is almost a cliché at times, seeminglywalking straight out of Anakin’s teenage wet dreams. It’s easy to lose himselfin Kenobi—so much so that he almost doesn’t notice the man sliding off thedesk, shuffling around to where Anakin sits, until he’s upended from his chair.Until Kenobi is bending him over the flat of his desk, tugging his pants downand freeing Anakin’s achingly hard cock from the confines of his slacks.

Another cliché.

“You planned this,” Anakin accuses when he hears the distinctive sound of a capopening. He tries to turn around, but the hand at the base of skull, pinninghim to the desk, only presses harder to still the movement.

“More hoped than planned, really,” Obi-Wan replies calmly, even as Anakin bucksin surprise at the sensation of cool lube drizzled between his cheeks. “Iconfess that this has always been a fantasy of mine, and when you mentionedDetective Vos stepping out of the office for a few days, well… I am quite theopportunist, my dear.”

“You do know you’re supposed to discuss these things with your partner first,right?” Anakin grumbles, but still finds himself pressing back against theslick fingers that have begun to work him open. “What if somebody were to walkin? You’re not the only one in demand of my attention, you know.”

Obi-Wan curls his fingers in a way he knows Anakin likes, dragging a raggedmoan that the detective has to stifle with his fist when the man’s actions sendpleasure racing up his spine. “The door is locked; if you’re quiet, no one willever know what we’re up to.” He murmurs as leans forward, nipping at the shellof Anakin’s ear. His fingers slip from Anakin’s hole with a last stretch, thesound of a zipper being undone quickly following. “You can be quiet, can’t youdear? For me?”

Anakin nods rapidly; he can be good for Obi-Wan. As much as he’d protested, thethought of getting caught—or someone knowing—comes with an unexpected rush ofexcitement. He wouldn’t have thought himself and exhibitionist before Obi-Wancame along, but then, his new parter had proven himself talented in draggingparts of Anakin to the light that he hadn’t even known were tucked away.

“That’s a good boy.”

Breath coming in excited pants, Anakin adjusts his grip on the desk as Obi-Wanslicks himself up. He has to bite down on his lower lip as the man spreads hischeeks, the blunt head of his dick pressing up against Anakin’s stretched hole.The feeling of Obi-Wan pushing into him is a familiar sensation now, but heremembers what it was like the first time they made love. Remembers how nervoushe was, splayed out on the man’s bed. Remembers how gentle his partner hadbeen, as though Anakin would shatter if handled too roughly.

He is not always so gentle now, not that Anakin minds, and today is noexception. He gives Anakin time to adjust of course, aware of the length andgirth of his cock, but once Anakin pushes back against him in unspokenpermission, he quickly finds a pace that has the younger man’s hips biting intothe edge of the desk with every thrust, that keeps him pushing back and takingObi-Wan deeper simply to stop from sliding up into stacks of papers he hadn’tcleared aside when this encounter began.

One of Obi-Wan’s hands lays over his own as the man thrusts roughly into him,their fingers entwining, and Anakin realizes that his palm lays on the openNegotiator file that Obi-Wan had set aside. His eyes catch for a moment on thepale, bloodless faces of his unfortunate look-alikes, and something twisted inthe back of his mind wonders if they liked what the Negotiator gave them. Ifthey enjoyed being stretched and filled and taken the way he enjoys being underObi-Wan. If they regretted it in those moments before he killed them, or ifthey even had a chance to think about it.

When they’re done, clothes adjusted and Obi-Wan sweeping from the door with alast kiss goodbye, Anakin has to close the file and stow it away in a drawer ofthe desk he’d just been taken over. Must throw himself into the work despitethe lingering scents of sweat and sex, to keep his mind busy. Must think ofother things, despite the feeling of Obi-Wan’s cum leaking from him, because ifhe doesn’t, he can’t help but wonder what would happen if the Negotiator foundhim, and if he’d like it too.