#system: somehow you seduce your would-be killer

[disgracefulthings]

After The Immortal Alliance Conference

Shang Qinghua: Bro! You're not going to believe what the System offered me this morning!

Shen Qingqiu: I don't care Airplane

Shang Qinghua: Dude, this is important! Possibly even life-saving!!

Shen Qingqiu: Ugh, fine. What happened?

Earlier This Morning

System: 【 Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Important things must be said three times! User 01 has survived much longer than expected! He has earned a reward! 】

Shang Qinghua: I'm a bit offended that you expected me to die earlier than the original goods, but I'll take the reward

System: 【 User 01 can choose between 2 rewards. The first reward is a full revival for you or someone of your choosing! 】

Shang Qinghua: Holy shit, that's OP! What could be better than that?!

System: 【 The second reward is the user can be granted knowledge about the ending of any piece of existing media. 】

Present

Shen Qingqiu: That's amazing Airplane-Bro! Now we don't have to just rely on the plant bodies

Shang Qinghua: Um...

Shen Qingqiu: Airplane-Bro?

Shang Qinghua: About that...

Shen Qingqiu: You didn't....

Shang Qinghua: So do you want to know how One Piece ends?

[johaerys-writes]

Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 52: A Long Day's Night

We're going to the Winter Palace baby 😎

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

“What’s the word, Sparkler? Getting ready for the big day?”

Varric was behind his desk, scratching away at a piece of parchment. He glanced up at him over his glasses when Dorian set the armful of books he’d been holding down at the edge of the desk with a sigh.

“You could say that, if ‘getting ready’ includes making sure Skyhold doesn’t collapse in my absence,” Dorian said, taking that moment of respite to shake out the numbness in his hands. He’d been arranging and rearranging the scrolls and manuscripts Helisma had misplaced during their trip to the Dales, and updating the archiving ledgers to make sure the new apprentices that had joined their ranks would be following it as closely as possible. Introducing some order to the madness that was the Skyhold library’s archiving system —and most of the Southern Circles, as he had come to find out— was no small feat, but Dorian was nothing if not determined. “So far, the endeavour has been rather fruitful, but you know what they say: Minrathous wasn’t built in a day.”

“If anyone can do it, Sparkler, it’s you,” the dwarf chuckled as his pen kept leaving elegant scribbles in dark ink on the smooth parchment. “Never you mind, though. In a few days, you won’t have to think about it at all. You’ll be far, far away, drinking the finest Orlesian wines while mingling with the best Thedas has to offer.”

“Or the worst, depending on how one looks at it.” 

“Those are even better,” Varric said with a smile. “Have you been brushing up on your Orlesian? You’ll probably need it. Since I’m not coming, I’ll need you to be my eyes and ears for all the drama and the gossip. I’m counting on you.” 

“Oh, I am certain there’ll be enough of that in the reports we’ll be bringing back for you to fill three books.”

“Reports?” Varric scoffed and shook his head. “Nothing interesting is ever in those. I don’t want the nitty and gritty and dry bare bones of it— I want the juicy, tasty bits. I don't just want to know who killed the Viscount, but what is the killer’s favourite drink? Does he have an unusual mark on his face, hidden behind his mask— is there an evil twinkle in his eye? How did he seduce the Viscount’s mistress, and convince her to sneak him in through the window in the dead of night? Now that is where all the juice is.”

“My dear man, if I ever find the answers to these questions, I’ll be writing the book myself," Dorian said, propping himself on the edge of Varric's desk with a devilish smirk. "Yet I somehow doubt they are going to be found anywhere near the champagne fountain, as this is where I hope to be for most of the night. They do have champagne fountains in Orlais, don’t they? Or is that particular architectural marvel strictly a Tevinter thing?”  

“One more piece of information you must be sure to relay once you get back,” Varric winked. “Can’t keep our loyal readers in the dark, can we?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” Dorian chuckled. Skyhold was buzzing with excitement, the residents as well as the visiting nobles and dignitaries falling like flies upon every piece of news of the Grand Masquerade. Dorian couldn’t say he wasn’t sharing the enthusiasm. It had been far too long since he’d found himself in anything resembling a ball in far too long — Lady Josephine had still been unable to secure an invitation for him to the Grand Ball of Lydes, so the Winter Palace was clearly the next best thing. As much as the Iron Bull and Sera tried to convince him that the impromptu drinking parties they held at the tavern every week were better, Dorian refused to be swayed. ‘No one knows how to party better than the Orlesians,’ was the age-old adage, and Dorian was finally about to put that to the test. 

Just as he was about to pick up his books and take his leave, a woman came up to them, followed by a servant carrying several bolts of fabric. She was dressed in an extravagant red and blue dress, its high puffy collar hiding most of the lower part of her face, while the rest was covered by her silver mask and her large, flower-bedecked hat.

“Bonny, my dear,” Dorian greeted her with a wide smile. “Is this the fabric I requested? You are a delight.”

The merchant inclined her head. “Of course,” she said. “Two days earlier than agreed, and at no extra cost to you, my lord.”

“Ah, but that’s splendid! And at just the right time,” Dorian said, inspecting the bolts the servant held in his arms. He had taken every care in selecting them, and he was sure his tailor would find those best suited to the designs Dorian had selected with relative ease. Southern mages had a certain reputation when it came to fashion —mainly, that they had not a clue about it— and he knew he could hardly count on Solas to amend that. Dorian had thus taken it upon himself to be the best dressed at the ball— after the Empress herself, of course. There was being ambitious, and there was being over-eager; never a good look. “Take them straight to the undercroft, if it isn’t too much bother? Harrit will know where to place them.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[divinerulerluvr]

Sweet Serial Killer ||

Summary - Inmate Kai Anderson further seduces his new guard after preying on her for weeks.

Part 1 is here

Suggested by @iheartfrogs101

Note - I was inspired by this post for the whole shaving Kai plot. Definitely go read it :)

- - -

“Hey, Y/l/n,” A guard calls out to me as i sit in the break room. I look up to him, my eyebrows raised in question as i play with the water bottle in my hand. “The guy on your block has gotten himself in trouble and you need to shave his face,”

“Why me?” i ask with dread.

“‘Cause it’s that or you guard the deranged idiot on block six. Pick your battles, sweetheart,” he shrugs before walking back out of the break room. With an irritated huff, i stand from the couch and head off to the room where prisoners would get groomed.

Kai had been a pain in my ass lately. I never let him out unless instructed to no matter how often he pleads. He pretends he knows everything about me when in reality, he knows nothing.

I walk into the room and see he wasn't there yet. I gather all needed materials like the straight edge razor and cheap shaving cream before leaning against the counter as i wait. Kai is eventually escorted into the room. Two buff guards stand on either side of him even though he was shackled like an animal.

Not that it was a bad thing.

The guards push him onto the chair, cuffing his hands to the arms of the chairs no matter how many snide comments he makes. The guards glanced at me before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

This room was very depressing. Gray walls and a dark blue door with a small window on it. Nothing else for decoration but a single counter and the chair bolted to the ground. I’d hate to be a prisoner. It’s just… sad.

A smirk spreads on his lips as he looks at me. “I asked for you,” he says, causing me to internally roll my eyes. “I wanted us to get as close as possible,” he chuckles maliciously. He had an agenda. Any dumb person could see that.

Grabbing the blade and shaving cream, i step wearily towards him. Kai looks up at me, his leg bouncing obnoxiously. I apply the cream to his face, avoiding eye contact at all costs. His leg moving was throwing me off and with such a difficult blade, i was afraid i’d cut him.

“Can you stop bouncing your goddam leg?” i snap, closing my eyes in frustration. He grins. “What vulgar language, doll,” he comments. He was getting on my nerves already. He continued to bounce his leg, keeping me unable to properly shave his face.

Completely fed up, i place my hand on his knee to stop it from moving. I knew this was what he wanted, but i just needed to shave him and get over with it.

I press the blade to his skin, moving it along his neck and cheek to shave his face. Wiping the excess shaving cream onto the towel, i see the triumphant and cocky look on his face. “I can feel your heartbeat,” he says, referring to how my wrist rested on his cheek.

He was right. My heart was just about ready to explode in my chest. Being so close to a convicted murderer was killing me. I was an equal mix of afraid and horny.

“Do i scare you, Y/n?”

I quickly shake my head. Lying to both him and myself. He didn’t scare me. The situation scares me. “Do i turn you on, then?” he asks instead. Swallowing thickly, i use all my focus on shaving his face and not cutting him.

“If you uncuff me i could release that… tension,” he suggests, his motive showing clear as day. He just wanted to get unchained to be free. “I don’t have the keys,” i say blatantly. He scoffs. “Bullshit,” he calls out.

I stay silent, wiping off the shaving cream from the blade. “What are these?” he snarkily says, using the little mobility he has in his hand to jingle the keys that dangle from my belt. I step back from him, glaring down at him.

“You wanna know what i think about at night, princess?” he questions, his dark eyes daring me to go with his games. “What?” i ask, getting it over with as i lean in to finish shaving his face. “You,” he states.

He sighs softly, as if recalling past thoughts. “I think about so many things. I think about your body. How fucking hot your moans would be as i rail you. How sensitive a sweet virgin like you would be. How i know i could make you quiver at just a light touch,”

I push my thighs together, keeping any excitement suppressed as i continue shaving him. “I bet you like being dominated. Like having all say taken away and being abused. Men need women like you. There isn’t any power drain when the woman has absolutely no fucking power,” he explains, staring me down.

His eyes pierce into my soul. Digging through my mind as he overanalyzes me. “Cute little pillow princesses like you are always the best. They’re too desperate for validation and approval to argue. What their master says, goes,” he says with a shrug.

The burning in my lower stomach was intense. I felt my cheeks get hot and my skin start to prickle with pure arousal. He caught onto this, of course. Proud of how he got me to react. “Let me touch you, Y/n. I want to feel you,” he says.

I wouldn’t call it begging. Instead, it was more or less an order. Him telling me what to do. Finishing shaving his face, i step away from him. I turn my back to him, letting me gather myself and take a breath.

Turning back to face him, i could see the painfully obvious boner in his pants. My eyes meet his and i could see the devilish look in them. “There are cameras, Kai,” i say.

He groans, repositioning in his seat. “I like the way you say my name. You should be moaning it instead,” he slyly remarks. “Just uncuff one of my hands and let me touch you,” he negotiates instead.

My feelings of lust had overpowered my logic and i really wanted to uncuff his hand.

“Do it for your master,” he probes, the name he gave himself causing a shock of arousal to course through my system. He stares me down, the dark color of his beautiful eyes making me melt to his evil will.

Stepping towards him, i grab the key on my belt and uncuff one of his hands. “What about the cameras?” i ask. His hand immediately went for my body, running up my side and massaging my breast.

“Surprise, doll. They don’t work. Bit of a virus, you could say,” he says, a sinister tone in his voice telling me he fucked them up himself somehow. A small smile spreads on my lips as his hand runs down to between my legs. He doesn’t bother going into my pants and stays on the outside.

His fingers run over my clothed clit, my hips bucking at the sensation. “Come on, princess. Sit on my lap,” he coaxes. I obey, sitting on his lap and letting him spread my legs. He runs his hand up my inner thigh, toying with the fabric of my pants as a way to tease me.

His breath fans my face softly, his lips grazing the heated skin of my cheek. He runs his thumb over my core, a weak moan leaving my lips. He kisses my jaw, biting at the sensitive skin as he rubs my clit through my pants.

“My sweet, sweet girl,” he tsks into my ear as he slithers his hands under my pants but not going under my underwear. “You’re soaked through. Maybe you’re needier than i thought,” he teases, a smirk in his voice.

He continues to rub my covered clit, his hand's warmth reaching my skin through the thin fabric of my underwear. I could feel his boner pressed against my ass, obnoxiously pressed into my skin.

I arch my back, pushing my hips shamelessly into the palm of his hand. He hums in satisfaction, his fingers working wonders on my sensitive clit as he pushes me closer and closer to an orgasm.

He presses soft kisses to my neck before digging his teeth into my skin, pulling a shaky moan from my mouth. I could feel a slight tremble in my legs as i squirm on his lap. He was right. I could feel my wetness absolutely soaking my underwear now that he was touching me.

I could feel his eyes studying my reaction to his touch. Relishing in how sensitive i was and how easily submissive i was to him. I rest my head back onto his shoulder, giving him more access to my neck for him to mark.

“It’s insane how i have more power over you and i’m the one half chained up,” he comments, chuckling darkly as his fingers pick up speed. I rest my hand on his arm that had the restraints on it, my nails digging into his warm skin as my walls convulse with the threat of an oncoming orgasm.

“Cum for me. I want to see you fall apart,” he encourages me. With his permission, i allow myself to let go from the thin and fraying strand that was my sanity.

It felt heavenly. Every single nerve in my body was buzzing with electrical fire and every single drop of blood in my veins bubbled and boiled deliciously. An exasperated moan falls from my lips, my legs shaking as i let the pleasure take over me.

Kai overstimulates me through my orgasm, his fingers now ceasing to just rubbing slow circles on my clothed clit. The fact that i had never once felt his fingers against my clit disappointing me. But it was again a part of his plan to make me continue coming back to him.

And if i’m being honest, it works.

He finally pulls his hand out from my pants, running his hand up my leg and trailing up my stomach and chest until he reaches my neck coated in red bite marks that would soon blossom into bruises.

“Beautiful,” he compliments under his breath. I open my eyes, only to see his eyes already taking in my disheveled state. “You should probably go. I’d love for you to stay but, i doubt it takes more than five minutes to shave a man’s face,”

I just nod, quickly getting off his lap and fixing myself. “Guards!” i call out weakly, opening the door that was locked after i had re-cuffed Kai’s free hand. The two men come in and uncuff Kai only to shackle his hands to his waist belt.

As he’s being escorted out, he glances back to me and winks. With this gesture, i felt my stomach drop.

I had been seduced by a serial killer.

[nomimits7]

Undecided Chapter 9 (Final)

Title: Undecided Pt 9 Final

Genre: Investigation, murder, masked behavior.

Warnings: murder, psychotic behavior, might be triggering. This chapter touches on the subject of having more than one personality. I do not know anything about this subject, so I interpreted it as I saw fit for the story. DON’T COME AT ME YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Also, I kind off maybe describe a murder so there’s that. I think that’s it… I might need help, mentally.

Members: detective OT7 x Forensic scientist Reader

Note: Phrases are just add-ins to help with the storyline… If they confuse you, feel free to ask!

Summary: Moving overseas for a once in a lifetime job offer was one of the scariest things Y/N ever did. That was until she got stuck in a twisted investigation of random murders, all with one link but no leads. Closing in on the culprit(s) Y/N doesn’t realize the danger she’s getting into. With no family or friends, can Y/N dare to trust those seven closest to her with her life?

Chapter 8

•♡•

Undecided: Not settled or resolved

•♡•

They were seven. Lucky for them, bad for you.

You hesitantly retold your livid dream. You tried to read their expression but ended up looking at the floor and nervously playing with the blanket as you finished your story.

“- and then I was in the elevator, Namjoon somehow calmed me and in the end, Seokjin gave me something to help me calm down more and I fell asleep. Now we’re here.” This was it. This was where the guys all would realize how fucked up you truly are.

The silence that followed your little story was unbearable. You couldn’t quite decide what was worse… them responding and sending you to the looney bin or them not responding at all. This uncertainty only grew with the silence. Causing you to fold into yourself more. You really started liking these seven men. You felt a connection with them and hoped they would be different from the previous people in your life.

You knew you were a bad person, but that’s something you tried to hide from them. It’s already bad enough that you had to tell them your ridiculous dream. You don’t even want to know what they’ll think of you when they learn the truth. That you, in fact, are a-

“Y/N. hey sweetheart. Look at me” It was Namjoon who interrupted your spiraling thoughts. Hesitantly you lifted your head. You kind of expected to see anger or hurt, maybe even betrayal in his soft brown eyes. Yet, that’s not what you saw. Namjoon’s gaze was filled with something close to admiration, maybe even a dash of sincerity.

This wasn’t out of character for him. Actually, those same emotions were visible in all seven of their eyes from time to time. What confused you now though, was the fact that those emotions were still present even after what you have told them. You didn’t deserve their admiration or sincerity. You were a monster compared to these lovely men. These men that always only protected you, cared for you like you weren’t just another stranger passing through.

They showed you more love than you ever received from anyone in your past. And a past you indeed had.

“Don’t zone out on us baby. We’re here for you. All seven of us.” Yoongi said as his arms snaked around your waist, successfully securing you in place. Being touched like this was nothing new to you. You had your fair share of boyfriends and boy friends. Only now, this was one of seven men you considered more in the latter category than the first. That little space being the friend zone secured a few lines that could not be crossed. So, with this knowledge, you stiffened.

Noticing your shift, Hoseok also snaked his arms around you for two reasons. One, he just wanted to hold on to you to make you feel safe. And two, what they were about to tell you required a few precautions. One of these entailed you being held in place, be it by choice or force was up to your reactions.

Feeling another pair of arms make their home around your waist had you beyond confused. Didn’t they know the unspoken rules of friends? Cuddles is as far as you would dare go if there was a secure blanket wall in place. But never in your time here, did they ever do something like this. Okay, to be honest, you kind-of expected Jimin or Jungkook to be the ones to risk something like this. They were the ones that lived for attention. But Yoongi was, well how can you put this nicely? The most un-affectional human you know. He showed he cared through small stuff like placing water randomly on your desk or making sure you had an extra helping of your favorite dessert. He never did something like this with any of the others. Hoseok, on the other hand, was just always so hyper you actually believed if he ever had to sit still for more than one hour he would die.

“Y/N, you asked us to be honest with you if you relayed your dream to us, right? Well, can you promise us to listen without interrupting until we’re done?” Seokjin asked, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts.

A simple nod from you was all the boys needed to start their very own story.

“Well, our story started 4 years ago. I befriended Yoongi at one of the local police stations. He was one of their tech guys and I was a young police officer starting out a new career. Okay, maybe I wasn’t that young, but that’s beside the point. Soon after I met Yoongi-hyung we met Hoseok-ah and Jin-hyung at one of the bars cops were known to hang out. We became friends rather quickly. The 4 of us started talking about going private, I mean we had all the skills needed to maintain a small private firm. So, 3 years ago we founded Z-investigators.

I believe it was in that very same bar where Taehyung-sie got into some trouble. I believe he picked a fight with a local? Or was it the other way around? Anyway, naturally Yoongi-hyung was the one to stop the fight and it was Hoseok who successfully made both men shut up with a simple stare. We soon learned that Tae was a newly promoted detective and that’s how he somehow joined our firm. But we also soon learned that wherever Tae went, his two best friends would follow so naturally Jungkook and Jimin became part of the Z-family.” Namjoon began. A soft and longing look in his eyes as he recalled the memories that started all of this.

But his face fell as the memories kept replying in his head. Something made him frown, you did not like that. You had to repress the urge to say something, you did promise to not interrupt. So, you just sat in Yoongi and Hoseok’s embrace and waited for someone to continue.

“Things went well in the beginning. We got a few cases here and there and slowly started building a good reputation. But then after our 10th murder, we started wondering. We started wondering what these people that take lives felt while their victims held onto the last bit of life. We also started wondering what methods would work best to stay unsolved.” Hoseok continued behind you, slightly tightening his arms around your waist.

Flashbacks to a 16-year-old you played in your head. Her eyes were all you would see as you tightened the rope around her throat. The color draining from her face as the oxygen failed to reach her face. Her life slipping out of her eyes until only empty orbs were left staring back at you. You also remembered the satisfaction that filled you as you got up and stared down and her lifeless body.

She was a bad person. She was the woman that seduced your father and threatened to tear your family apart. You’ve always been a snoop and found this secret by accident. Your years of watching and learning from unsolved murder cases helped you erase yourself from that allay way. You were smart for a 16-year-old girl, to this day her murder remains unsolved and your family is none the wiser.

You also got curious about how you could improve in such a way so you can start taking risks. You have awakened a lust for blood that day and you would do anything to satisfy it.

“We did tons of research. And soon we all began planning on how we would test our theories without getting caught. At first, we wanted to do this to better the system. You know? We wanted to make the life of an investigator easier.” Taehyung continued. None of the boys dared make any eye contact with you, yet you held no judgment towards them. You understood where they were coming from.

“We soon realized that the system was more corrupted than any killer’s mind. We were disgusted when we found out how many people out there were roaming free because some fucker tampered with the evidence to save his buddies ass.” Jimin said in a dark tone. His face even took on a darker shade as he kept his gaze fixed in the ground.

“Daniel was our first attempt at bypassing the system on fair terms. Weeks of planning went into killing him. You see Daniel was a very well-known drug-lords pet out there. he was responsible for almost everything. From people that stayed loyal to his boss to the ones that dared cross him. He even led some of the missions to ‘take care of’ these unfaithful people himself. To say we didn’t feel bad killing him would be a crime in itself.” Jungkook explained as he finally dared meet your eyes. You saw the sincerity in his eyes and that alone told you that these boys weren’t lying to you. Your eyes softened at this, making a faint smile find its way to his lips.

“Ultimately we decided that I would be the one to end his life. We all played a part but I had the final blow, or push so to speak. I was the one who forced the golfball down his throat. But we all stood there and witnessed as his life slipped from his eyes. The fear, the realization that it was truly the end for him. None of those things affected us in a negative sense, on the contrary, there was a sense of relief that settled between us.” Yoongi added. His form small and bordering fragile. He was scared, of what you do not know.

“After our first kill, we became braver. We did less planning and more doing. The only planning we really did was the names and the ones who got to kill them. We even made a catalog that wasn’t part of the investigations to keep track of what we actually did and how much we could prove. It's strange, we didn’t see the victims as our killings. We saw them as victims. Just another case we had to do. You can even double-check us, we did no tampering what so ever. Everything we logged and collected is true. But still, we aren’t even close to finding the real killer, even if we are the real killers.” Seokjin explained even further.

At this point, your head was running its very own race. They were investigating their own deeds, but they were still fair in doing so. Once again your mind drifted back to when you were well into the killing business as well. One of your biggest secrets on how to get away with murder was to evolve. You never used the same methods twice in one year. You kept changing up your style. There wasn’t a single -method out there which you haven’t done or mastered.

The only difference at this points between you and the men sitting in front of you was that you killed for the bloodlust you got. They killed for the sake of bettering the system. It’s this exact thought that made you use your voice for the first time since they started talking.

“You guys killed for the sake of bettering the system. I killed for the sake of fulfilling the bloodlust I had. You aren’t monsters. I’m the monster here. How can you guys stomach being in the same room as me?” you broke into a sobbing mess as your hands reached for your face.

“Even serial killers get bored Y/N. We got bored of trying to better the system. So, we ended up killing for the trill. We couldn’t understand why but killing felt like a deed we did for our country. And after Tae discovered you… we felt less alone. We finally knew someone else out there knew what we felt, what we craved” Yoongi explained as he tried to make you understand that you weren’t a monster.

You had no idea what any of their words meant so you decided to stay silent. You had some thinking to do.

•♡•

The boys soon allowed you to retreat to your room. They didn’t put any pressure on you to answer them after their confession. They simply allowed you to go. You needed time to process everything.

Closing your door, you could finally let out the breath you were holding. Head facing down, you leaned against the door. Your carefully constructed face falling. The face you worked so hard on when you were 16 years old. The face you had to create after that faithful day you first tasted blood.

If anyone could see you now, they would probably say that you seemed like two different people. One is the sweet and innocent Y/N that got her honors in Forensic Science to make the world a better place. The one that wouldn’t hurt a fly. The emotional, scared, helpless foreign girl that wanted to escape her controlled life back home.

The other girl would be the one most only saw in their final moments. The determined, bloodthirsty girl that wouldn’t blink when she pulled a trigger. The fearless girl that would stare death in the face a thousand times without thinking twice about it. The heartless murderer that would smile while watching the life drain from her victims' eyes.

Those same emotionless eyes now snapped up as your thoughts began swirling. How did they find out about your past? They had to have known, right? How else would they know so much about you? You weren’t even close to being a person of interest in any of the investigations. Well, there was the exception of Norman’s case, but that was a minor hiccup you had to deal with.

Hang on. They compared themselves with you. They fucking compared their killings with yours, those narrow-minded idiots. They dare compare their amateur crimes to yours. What a fucking joke. You have years of experience and they only started about 5 months ago, with planning no less. Did they really think that you would just understand and accept them?

Okay, maybe you do understand and you kind of like the idea of not being so alone. Sure, killing was fulfilling but it was a very lonely road.

You frantically started pacing back and forth as your mind kept running the possibilities and questions in your mind. One of these questions kept playing on repeat.

What’s going to happen now.

Yes, they’re still new to the whole murder scene, but they outnumbered you seven to one. If they were just two, no problem! But they were seven. Seven really well-built men that wouldn’t think twice about pulling you over their laps and giving you a good spanking. Wait, what?

Startled by your own thoughts you stopped dead in your tracks. Where the hell did that come from? Taking a seat on your bed, you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

Think Y/N, you have to think! You needed a plan if things turned sour, just in case.

•♡•

The boys all stayed in the living area as you retreated to your room. You needed time and they understood that, but that didn’t keep the tension at bay. They were scared of what you would do, although they had a backup plan they didn’t plan on using it.

The silence stretched out for another minute or two until Hoseok abruptly stood and moved down the hallway. None of the other boys cared to see where he was going as each was to busy sorting through their own questions. The atmosphere grew heavier as the minutes stretched. The only sounds were heavy sighs from time to time. Well, that is until Hoseok returns somewhat ten minutes later with a visible spring in his step.

“So, I kind of stood outside her door and listened to her vocally have an inner conflict with herself”

At his words, the rest of the boys visibly perked up. You were usually a quiet girl. You never voiced any inner feelings towards anyone, given if they didn’t force you to engage in such a manner. Hearing you have a vocal conversation with yourself must have been a whole new experience.

“She sounded so different. Much more mature, and so confident. Well, she did call us amateurs and idiots for comparing our track record to hers, but it was like there were two different people speaking. The one would belittle our work while the other would kind of be on our side and voice how nice it would be to have friends in the field” Hoseok continued while retaking his seat next to Yoongi.

“What else did she say? What will she do with this new information?” Seokjin hesitantly asked. They liked you. They would hate for you to end up as one of their cases.

“She’s scared. She knows we outnumber her by far. I also think she might have some sexual troubles but that one we can discuss later. She didn’t say anything else other than she needs a backup plan” Somehow this news made the guys excited.

Jungkook was visibly vibrating in his seat, Taehyung actually had emotion on his face, even Yoongi looked more awake.

“I can’t wait to meet the real Y/N”  

•♡•

45 minutes

That’s how long you were left alone in your room. You were just about to drift off to sleep again when the knock came. The knock that sealed your undecided fate. The dreaded thump thump against the door that stole away your precious sleep and left you on high alert.

You were beyond annoyed at this point. How dare they deny you your sleep. With an intentionally loud groan, you reluctantly got up and made your way to the door. Only to find the hallway empty, no living soul in sight. You probably stood there for a good minute or two before you heard the hushed whispers from the living room. Curiosity got the best of you as you crept closer.

The universe must have had it in for you because the moment you came within earshot of the whispers… they stopped.

“Come take a seat Y/N. We’ve been waiting for you” you heard Taehyung call. Momentarily forgetting the intensity of the whole situation, you slowly made your way into the room.

“This isn’t just another dream or something, right?” at your voice, all seven men locked their eyes onto your form. Yes, you might be a very dangerous serial killer, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get intimidated. Seven gorgeous men were watching you, S-E-V-E-N.

Taking the seat furthers from them, you crossed your legs as you took on the role of the shy foreign girl again. All seven of the men silently observed you. Something was different about them. Mere moments ago, they told you some of their darkest secrets AND revealed some of yours. Yet, here they were. No indication of fear, shyness or guilt.

“So, as you can see, we outnumber you seven to one. But you out-rank us by far and we’d kill to have you as one of us. Almost like a mentor of sorts. We like you Y/N and we really want to become your friends, but you need to want this too” Namjoon spoke up. His eyes never leaving yours as he took in your shy exterior.

“W-why would you thi-��you began, only to be cut off by Jimin’s stern voice.

“Oh, lose the mask Y/N. If you wanted to bolt, you would have done so already. Someone like you always has a way out. We want to get to know the real Y/N. So, stop this shy, vulnerable crap and show us who you really are”

Taken aback by the sudden harshness of his tone, it didn’t take much to lose the weight of pretend. Looking down, you readjusted your position. Uncrossing your legs, you threw your hair over your shoulder as a slow smile formed on your face. It felt so good to not pretend you even let out a sigh of relief.

The boys watched on in amazement as you visibly changed into someone else right in front of them. They expected to see the difference, but never in their lives did they ever think they could witness something like this. It was like you were a young caterpillar going through metamorphism to turn into the biggest and brightest butterfly known to mankind.

“Holy shit that was probably the hottest thing I have ever witnessed” Taehyung groaned out as Jungkook, Seokjin and Yoongi all hummed in agreement.

“Hi boys, it’s nice to finally meet you. So, when do we start your training?” you said with a smirk and a suspicious glint in your eyes. It’s been a while since you had the satisfaction of taking another’s life and to say you were beyond excited, was a crime in itself.

None of you knew if you made the right choice by trusting the other, yet your future seemed a little less undecided than it was this morning.

Victim catalog 

•♡•

A/N: Congratulations! You’ve managed to make it to the end of the series!!!   Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please don’t hesitate to ask if you would like to know more or just want to tell me it’s trash! Any ask is welcome!

Also, tell me what you would change in the story. Or maybe even tell me what you would like to read next. I’m always open to ideas. Mits you lots <3

Taglist: @loonyginger @hani-bun @sugashaye @alomarce @loisje123 @chim-possible @imfor-everdrivinginpuddles @exprimidordefresas @speakyourselfloveyourself @autumnboo126 @3amthoughtsvented @thetrxshbx @michiluvddr @purecelestialpower @ur-honey-child @dulce-whirlpool @moonlightnightingalesworld @loudfriendtacocookie @mysteriousanna @diorluvs @misseoulite @mina9235​ @crajishie​ @undergroundqueens @hannahpostema @skay @mixerbeauty @adultingtomato @hauntedstatesmanmoneyknight @slutkoo​ @freeformdn @flowersinmypockets @kelwaters​ @cool-strawberry @vi-hoshi​ @xxqueenwxtchxx​ @kyliewonder @technicolor-blues​ @emmayan123 @sofiaelola123 @addictedtohockey​  @kpop20182019​ @regularcow @toanimeornot​ @xxgothickxx​

[gaygent37]

Curiosity Killed the Cat - Day 11

No-Set-Prompt-List-tober, October 11: OVERSIZED SWEATERS

JayDick, serial killers AU, drugged, anal sex, rough sex, knives, mild blood, (kinda fucked up murder related stuff) 1,143 words

/╲/\╭( ͡° ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ͡°)╮/\╱\ 

From across the club, Jason had taken notice of the boy, twenty-one at the oldest judging by his cocktail, sitting at the counter of the bar.

The boy was cute, and Jason labelled him a boy because he looked nothing like a man yet, especially with the peach colored oversized sweater he wore that practically swallowed his small size. The boy looked very innocent and rather effeminate. Just Jason’s type. But not Jason’s sexual or romantic type, but Jason’s victim type. 

He had been watching the boy for twenty minutes, and he did not seem to be with anyone. So Jason approached. 

“Hello,” he said, shooting the boy a smile. “It’s quite quiet here,” he said. “Not much of a social butterfly?”

The boy blinked at him like he was not entirely sure whether or not Jason was talking to him. “Oh,” he said. “Um, not tonight, I guess. I’m just people watching tonight.”

Jason hummed. “People watching, hm? Any interesting characters?”

The boy shrugged. “Not really. Though that woman over there is having an affair with the bartender.”

Jason laughed. “And how did you deduce that?”

The boy blushed. “She’s wearing a ring. He’s not. Five minutes ago, she slipped him a note and then slipped her ring off of her finger. They might leave together after his shift.”

“How very astute of you, Mr...?”

“Oh, not Mister,” the boy said quickly. “I just go by Dick. Dick Grayson.” He held out his hand for Jason to shake. 

Jason grinned at the boy. This was almost too easy. He had let his guard down, and within ten minutes, Jason was pretty sure he had his next pretty victim in the bag. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jason.” He took Dick’s hand, more than surprised to find the boy’s hands rather rough. 

“The hands of a worker?” Jason asked. 

Dick blushed and quickly pulled his sweater sleeves over his hands. “Um... yeah. I’m a gymnast... and a... police officer?” 

He seemed almost nervous to admit that. And Jason was a bit shocked as well, though he did not let it show. But soon, he found it even more intriguing. “Police officer? Are you sure? You don’t look a day over eighteen!”

Dick gasped. Then, he started laughing genuinely. “I’m- I’m twenty-six!”

Jason could not keep the shock off his face this time. Dick was older than he was! Still, somehow, it all made Jason want Dick more. Jason had never taken a victim that was older than him, nor an officer of the law. “Oh, my bad! I’m sorry for assuming,” Jason said quickly. “Here. Let me get you another drink as an apology?”

Dick paused for a second, then nodded. “Okay,” he said. 

Jason waved the bartender over and ordered another one of Dick’s drinks. When it came, Jason moved it over in front of Dick, who had been glancing at a loud argument somewhere to his left. While Dick was preoccupied, Jason slipped a little something into his drink, watching it dissolve instantly. 

“Oh, thank you,” Dick said, when he turned back around. He took the drink and lifted the glass to his lips. His bright blue eyes locked on Jason’s as he took his first sip. Then, he licked his lips and grinned at him. Jason smiled back at him. 

He kept Dick talking for ten minutes, and he started seeing the drug take effect. Dick’s blinks became longer, and his speech had a slurred tone to it. Occasionally, his eyebrows would draw together briefly. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Jason asked with a hint of worry in his voice. “You don’t look so good,” he said. 

Dick grimaced. “Oh... I’m fine, I think,” he said. “Just a bit... of a headache. Maybe I should go home...” He went to stand and almost immediately stumbled. “Shit,” he mumbled to himself. “I think the alcohol... hit me harder than I meant it to.”

Jason stood up as well. “Did you drive here? I could call you a cab,” he offered, giving Dick a hand. “Anyone I can help you call to pick you up? Or, I drove, and I could drop you off if we’re going in the same direction?”

Dick snorted and shook his head. “Ah, I don’t want to bother you,” he said. “I live in Upper Gotham. It’s wayyyyy over there.” He waved his hand in the opposite direction. 

Jason smiled. “Lucky for you, I’m headed up there too. I have to pick something up from a friend’s house. He lives in Upper Gotham as well,” Jason lied smoothly.

Dick gave him a suspicious look. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “What street?”

“On West Park Avenue,” Jason said immediately.

Dick’s narrowed eyes slowly became normal again. “I guess... I guess you can take me home.”

“Yeah, my car’s this way,” Jason said, gently helping Dick out of the club, smiling to himself from over Dick’s head. 

~~~

“Which floor?” Jason asked as he helped Dick into the elevator. 

“Twen... Twenty-four,” Dick mumbled, practically half-passed out now. He was leaning fully on Jason, and Jason was holding up most of his weight. When the elevator lurched into movement, Dick tipped forward, and Jason barely caught him in time. 

“Woah!” Jason said. “Lightweight, are you?”

Dick shook his head and winced. “Not... usually. I think... the bartender put... too much vodka... in my drink tonight.”

Jason chuckled lightly. “Maybe it’s because he found out you were on to him about the affair.”

Dick laughed quietly, but only managing a few chuckles. 

Jason managed to get Dick’s apartment door open, and he helped the man all the way to his bed. On the dresser, Jason noted that, indeed, there was a rumpled police uniform, a badge, and a gun in its holster. Dick had been truthful after all. 

“Do you need water?” Jason asked. “Let me get you a glass of water before I go.”

Dick gave a half-groan of consent. 

Jason left the room to find the kitchen. He poured Dick a glass of water, but he mixed a stronger dose of the drug into it. It would put Dick to sleep and kill him in his sleep. Jason did not believe in cruel, painful deaths. He was an artist of sorts, arranging a person’s dead body into something that could be appreciated as art, if it were not first seen as murder. 

Suddenly, Jason felt something sharp poking into his back. He froze. 

“Well, well, well,” Dick mused. “What an interesting thing we have here,” he said. “You’re Jason Todd, right? The Jason Todd?”

Jason turned around slowly, setting down the glass of water. Dick held twin knives in his hands, and there was no sign of any drugs in his system. His sadistic grin made Jason’s blood run cold. 

But he kept a blank mask. “I saw you drink it all,” Jason said. “How are you fighting it?”

Dick laughed. “Jay,” he said. “I kill people for fun. I know all the typical ins-and-outs of this line of business. You’d think that I’ve got fail safes in case someone tried to poison me someday, right? I’ve built up an immunity to it, of course.”

Then he nodded at the glass of water. “Though, a dose like that would probably kill me,” he said. “But it would’ve been a slow, painful death.” Dick cocked his head to the side, still smiling. “But you don’t like slow, painful deaths, do you? You believe in it being quick and painless.”

Suddenly, Dick put the knives down. “What would you have done?” he asked. “If I did drink that and I didn’t die in my sleep like you wanted me to.”

Jason did not answer. He had never had that happen to him before. After administering the final dose, Jason’s victims always died within ten minutes into their final nap like they should have.

“Would you’ve stabbed me to put me out of my misery?” Dick asked. “Shot me through the head with my own gun? Left me there to suffer and run away because you failed?”

Jason frowned this time. “Of course I wouldn’t run away! That’s even crueler! I’d... snap your neck or something.”

“Hm,” Dick said. “Good choice. Less cleanup.”

“You were about to stab me in your own kitchen,” Jason accused. 

Dick rolled his eyes. “Of course I wasn’t! These babies are just for show. I’ve never killed anyone with them before. My stabbing knives are in there,” Dick said, nodding at the drawer on Jason’s right. 

Jason raised an eyebrow. “You keep your weapons of choice in- in your knife drawer? In the kitchen?”

Dick nodded. 

“That’s really fucking unsanitary,” Jason said, grimacing.

“It’s not like I cook anyway,” Dick laughed. “Anyway, what do we do now? I mean, I can’t exactly let you walk free, but I can’t exactly turn you in either.”

Jason opened and closed his mouth, having no ideas either. 

Suddenly, Dick gasped. “I have an idea.” He grabbed Jason’s wrist and started pulling him towards the bedroom.

Jason was very hesitant to go with him. He kept his eyes on the exit and made sure he knew exactly where Dick’s knives and gun was at all times. Once in Dick’s room, Dick pulled his sweater over his head and revealed a very fit body. Suddenly Dick did look his age, and Jason swallowed tightly because he suddenly also became Jason’s other type. 

Dick grabbed the rumpled uniform and started putting it on. 

“What... are you doing?” Jason asked warily. 

Dick gave him a wicked grin. “I’ve always wanted to roleplay police officer and serial killer with someone,” he said. “But like, how do you brink that up to a partner in bed?” he asked with a laugh. “But anyway, are you seducing me, or am I seducing you?”

Jason blinked at him rapidly. “How do you even know I swing that way?”

Dick gave him a wink. “Oh, it’s not about whether or not you swing that way, but whether you swing my way. And most people do.”

He stepped backwards until his legs hit the bed, and he fell back onto the bed. And to top it all off, he spread his legs and snapped handcuffs around his own wrists. 

“Well?” he asked with a smirk. “You gonna come make a piece of art of me, Mr. Todd? If you don’t catch me, I’ll catch you as soon as I’m free of these cuffs.”

And then there was a lock pick in Dick’s hands, and he was working it into the lock. That little movement did it for Jason. Though Jason knew Dick was tempting him, with the man spread out so nicely like that, Jason had to take advantage. 

He was across the room in a flash, and he had Dick’s wrists pinned down above his head with a low growl. 

Dick actually moaned. 

“What kind of prey willingly tempts the predator into a game of cat and mouse?” Jason asked harshly into Dick’s ear. He rut his hips against Dick’s at the same time.

Dick arched into Jason’s movement. “The kind that’s also a predator himself?” Dick panted back. “Or one that doesn’t mind playing the prey.”

“Fuck, Dickie, you’re tempting me,” Jason said, gritting his teeth. “I can’t promise you’ll come out of this unhurt.”

“Why?” Dick asked, his voice purely curious, not scared. “Are you feeling tempted to fuck me or to kill me, Jason?”

“I don’t know,” Jason breathed out. “Both.”

Dick fucking giggled. “That’s so hot, Jason,” he whispered. “You feel how hard that made me?” He rubbed the bulge of in his slacks into Jason’s equally hard and equally trapped cock. “Do something about it, Jay.”

That was all Jason needed to make his choice. He practically ripped Dick’s shirt off of him, buttons spraying everywhere. He pushed the torn cloth up around Dick’s wrist and held it there. He drank in Dick’s firm body. He helped himself to a particularly noticeable scar that ran over Dick’s collarbone with his tongue. 

Dick moaned again. “Lower,” he breathed. “Lower, please.”

Ignoring Dick’s pleads, Jason slowly trailed his hand down and put his hand into Dick’s pants, cupping the warm cock confined in the briefs. He let go of Dick’s wrists and started pulling Dick’s pants and underwear down. With the other man completely naked, Jason started working on his own clothes, shucking them away carelessly. 

Then, he climbed on top of Dick again, pushing between his legs roughly. “Lube?”

“Drawer,” Dick said impatiently, nodding at the drawer by his bed.

Jason reached over and fumbling around, looking for a tube. However, he pricked his finger on something sharp and pulled it out, only to see a pinpoint of blood on his fingertip. 

“Oops,” Dick giggled. “I don’t remember putting a knife in there.”

“Sure,” Jason said with a glare, sucking on his fingertip. Then, he grabbed the bottle of lube. Jason made quick work of prepping Dick with only two fingers, but Dick did not seem to mind the roughness, if his moaning was anything to go by. 

“You’ve got neighbors, you know,” Jason said, pouring lube over his cock and giving it a few strokes. Though he understood Dick’s desperateness and need to get on with the sex, he still wanted to be courteous to those around them. 

Dick gave a breathless laugh. “They’re voyeurs, it’s okay.”

Jason gave him a half-hearted frown, but he pushed deep into him with a hissed, “Fuck!”

Dick moaned and arched, taking even more of Jason into him. “Fuck, it’s been so long!”

“Does it hurt?” Jason asked. 

Dick laughed. “You’re such a big softie. I’m- I’m fine. But please, just fuck me!”

Jason was not one to disobey. He plunged himself into Dick’s tight, warm heat, thrusting into him over and over again. He gripped Dick’s waist tightly, pulling the man down to meet his thrusts and get deeper inside of him. 

“Just like that, Jason!” Dick cried, throwing his head back in pleasure. “Fuck, yes!” he shouted even louder, but at that point, Jason had stopped worrying about the neighbors. 

“You’re so fucking tight, Dickie,” Jason growled as he fucked Dick harder, pleasure pooling deep inside him as his orgasm started building. “I’m going to fucking wreck you.”

Dick gasped at his words, his pretty blue eyes opening slightly. “Please do,” he whispered. “Make a mess out of me, Jay. I wanna be your greatest masterpiece.”

That should not have been sexy. Jason did not mix sex with his art form (yes, it was murder, but he considered it an art). But when those words came from Dick’s plump, beautiful lips, Jason could not hold it back any longer. 

His thrusts became erratic, and Dick must have sensed it because he clenched down harder than before, and with a wail, he was cumming on Jason’s cock, tightening rhythmically around him. Jason’s cock was being milked by Dick’s insides, and at that point, it was all over for him. 

Jason spilled deep inside of Dick, painting his insides with his cum. Then, he collapsed down on top of Dick, barely managing to keep him from crushing the smaller man. 

Dick giggled. “How’d that feel, Mr. Artist?” he murmured. 

“Fuckin’ amazing,” Jason said. “Certainly the most exciting I’ve ever had.”

Dick hummed softly. Jason heard his handcuffs click and a second later, Dick’s arms hung loosely around Jason’s neck, but somehow, Jason had a feeling Dick would not snap it. “I agree,” Dick said. “’m tired now. Can we sleep?”

“How do you know you won’t kill me when I fall asleep?” Jason asked, rolling over but still keeping in close proximity to Dick. 

Dick held up a hand. “Pinkie promise?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. 

“I swear I won’t,” Dick said solemnly. “Besides, if I kill you here, your DNA is all mixed in with mine. I mean, it’s literally dripping out of me. And how do I know I can’t say the same about you?”

Jason sighed. “Probably because I literally left cum dripping out of you.” He reluctantly took Dick’s pinkie in his. The smaller man beamed, and Jason could not help but add a little smile as well. 

Then, Dick snuggled in closer to him, rubbing his face into Jason’s shoulder. “Mkay,” he said. “Now sleep.”

~~~

They both woke up around 3 in the morning and decided to get up to grab breakfast. However, it turned out that ice cream was the only thing that was still edible in Dick’s fridge. Jason also spied Dick’s knives still in the kitchen, and he noticed a couple of pumpkins sitting by the door. 

They somehow ended up carving pumpkins and eating ice cream together at 3 in the morning.

“So... what now?” Dick asked.

Jason reached his spoon into the quart of ice cream in Dick’s lap. “I dunno,” he said, licking the creamy vanilla treat off of his spoon before going back for more. “I can’t believe you only have vanilla ice cream in your freezer, Dickie. So boring.”

“Hey, I like vanilla! Besides, no one eats it but me, so why not buy my favorite?” Dick said, sticking his tongue out at Jason. He ate a huge spoonful to prove his point. Then, his face contorted due to brain freeze. 

Jason laughed at him. “Awww, poor Dickie might like vanilla ice cream, but vanilla ice cream doesn’t seem to like him back!”

Dick shoved him lightly, barely budging Jason. 

They fell into a companionable silence and stared at their flickering jack-o-lanterns as the so-to-be-rising sun started changing the colors of the sky.

“Hey, Jay,” Dick said quietly after a few minutes. 

“Hm?”

“What do you think about sticking around? Like, maybe as friends?”

Jason stared at Dick before he started laughing. “As friends? What kind of friends, Dickie? Serial killer friends? Friends with benefits friends? ‘Normal people’ friends?”

Dick was not amused. He glared at Jason. “Fine, not friends then,” he huffed. 

“Hey, I’m kidding,” Jason said. Dick continued pouting. Jason gently reached over and turned Dick’s face towards him. “Dickie, I’d like very much to be friends,” he said with a sincere smile. “Any kind of friends.”

And when Dick started smiling slowly, Jason knew it was all okay.

/╲/\╭( ͡° ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ͡°)╮/\╱\

I’m very sorry to say that that was a very half-assed piece of smut because I just wanted to get it done.

[melissatreglia]

Did You Miss Me?: Darkiplier in 2018

For the most part, 2018 was a quiet year. In contrast with 2017, where we were gratified to see Dark's monochromatic visage throughout the year, 2018 carried playful hints and teasing of the elusive entity's presence but no confirmation. There were thumbnails and quick flashes that indicated He was continuing to pull strings, ensuring that His presence was felt but His face never really seen.

Throughout 2017, He'd show up during what us mere mortals consider major holidays or important events. Valentine's Day. Easter. Even Cinco de Mayo got a nod. And of course, the infamous Friday the 13th late in the year.

But 2018? He apparently decided to stay home in the void during our days of revelry, with the possible (though not confirmed) exception of the decidedly strange Fall in Love with Markiplier video for Valentine's Day. And for the TWO Friday the 13ths in 2018? He was a no-show. In 2017, He'd returned to shake things up in our safe little lives... and in 2018, He left us wanting more, like the skilled manipulative seducer He is.

Getting Over It, Part 8 included a thumbnail with Mark's dour expression and a suspiciously familiar colour scheme. The thumbnail for WATCH OUT!! had Mark reaching for us in a state of panic (which belied the contents of the video itself). 

Try Not to Smile Challenge #3, while the smile-free serial killer laugh is creepy, it's not a Darkiplier moment. Though, him joking near the end of the video that people who didn’t smile at some point during the video are "soulless demons" does seem to be a Darkiplier reference of some kind (or maybe a Devilplier reference, since the Cuphead song was released just two months later)?

In Madison, when his game character watches a television that glitches and fades to static, Mark fearfully squeaks, "Darkiplier, is that You?!" While in the description for End My Suffering, just ten days later, Mark wailed, "What malevolent being did I piss off to be cursed like this!"

Brother Wake Up promised "I’ll try to help in whatever way I can but you have to wake up!" Which, while it fit perfectly with the title of the game, the description also fit pretty damn well into the channel lore too. And Umfend's description was likewise ominous: "You shouldn't have forgotten about me... I'll make you remember..."

Meanwhile, the title for the video of Welcome The The Game 2.0 doubles as a callback to an earlier Darkiplier moment: "Don't Play This Game". Horns of Fear did it one better, with the thumbnail featuring many eyes staring out at the viewer (again with an all-too-familiar colour scheme), while the title warned us "DON'T LOOK AWAY..."

In the Warframe playthrough late in the year, Mark's camera briefly freezes. But in 3 Scary Games #9, his camera freezes repeatedly before glitching back to normal, and he implies that "there's something else" messing with the camera. In 5 Nostalgic Games, when Mark gives the definition of ubiquitous and bares his teeth while saying "We're learning today!", the video suddenly glitches. 

The thumbnail for Markiplier has fled the country had Mark lunging at the camera, his face completely darkened by shadow. And the thumbnail for 3.75 Scary Games blatantly toyed with the fandom with text shouting "DARKIPLIER?"

And the fanbaiting didn't stop there. More thumbnails that hinted at Dark included a hand bathed in blue light reaching out to the viewer for the fittingly titled The Devil Haunts Me, and a cartoon of Mark cowering away from Dark's furious glare for You're Perfect.  

Markiplier's Tour: The Movie featured the improv teacher stating that Markiplier wasn't at the shows. "I don't know who that guy was, but it wasn't him." Even the Markiplier Animated short I've Got Boobs?! features a brief scene of a shadowy Darkiplier rising from a well and whispering something unintelligible.

For the most part however, the teasing came directly from out of Mark’s mouth.

In 3 Scary Games #5, Mark jokes that a ghost (clad in the classic white sheet and glitching somewhat) is Darkiplier. 3 Scary Games #13, the first (jokey) game called "Death Trips" features RGB text and Mark narrating in an echoing voice. In Midnight Shift, a game where Mark is memorably being chased by mannequins, he jokes that an RGB poster on a wall is "expricitly [sic] Darkiplier". In SCP Containment Breach #57, Mark jokes when he sees the intro screen of a pretty lady in 3D with an open third eye, "Look at this Darkiplier ass thing... it's like Celine, straight out of [Who Killed Markiplier?]". 

In 3 FNAF Fan Games, he even chortles that the game has “Darkiplier letters.” In Devil Daggers, he scoffs, “A high-pitched ringing in the darkness. That’s always good.”

[Image captured by me, on June 3, 2018.] 

Just before midsummer, I received a pleasant surprise. In Imscared: Steam Edition, Mark says "I gotta go get back into the Shadow Realm, the Upside Down." Which, personally, made me very happy at the time. Since I first became active on Tumblr in July 2017, I've been referring to Dark's void dimension as the Shadow Realm, while Mark has referred to it in the past as the Upside Down, making the link fairly clear in this statement. (Somehow, whether by happy accident or serendipity, my terminology and its proper context made its way to Mark. As a fan, I can't describe how pleased that made me, to know he might have actually seen something I’ve made.)

(But enough about me. I’m just an obsessive Darkiplier fangirl. So let’s get back to cataloging all the hinty goodness!)

By this point, you’re probably wondering, “Okay, so all those hints are decent. But where the hell is Dark in all of this?!” But that’s the point, my friends: He was there the whole time. In brief flashes of imagery, in hints and innuendo. Unseen, but his presence clearly felt as our expectations were played with by our channel host.

We expected a wild ride at the beginning, when Mark made two brief livestreams on January 5th, wandering through the theatre he was slated to play for the You’re Welcome Tour. 

The first of the two, “What’s Going In?!”, he showed us the back area of the Paramount Theatre, using only improvised narration and acting to build an atmosphere of dread. He claimed the theatre was haunted, and that he could smell “the scent of death”, ultimately vowing to protect those who would be visiting the theatre to see him that night. He also declares the EXIT a trap, before being pursued by an unseen entity.

The drama continued with “...” (a title that is impossible to find using Youtube’s search options), that begins with an eerie quiet. Tyler eventually finds Mark’s dropped phone. He asks the viewers where Mark is, before going on a search. He’s eventually attacked from behind and the stream cuts off, leaving those who weren’t at the show that night to wonder how the matter resolved.

In Simulacra, there's a brief flash of Mark in his Big Mood outfit with text saying "WAKE UP". When the simulacra changes the colour of the cellphone's display and begins to speak in a calm, creepy voice, Mark reflexively responds, "Darkiplier?" and sounding unnerved at the mention of "behind your black mirrors", then being stunned as the screen appears to crack.

At the end of Simulacra, he gives an uncharacteristically downbeat speech, declaring that "We're all just digital copies of ourselves, idealized in a digital form. And maybe that's the way that life is just supposed to be. Maybe we should all just roll over and accept it, because there's nothing that we can do to change our fates, after all. And who's to say that it's not better for us just to wear the masks that are our digital personas, and live our lives as those? Maybe that is for the best."

The How To Make Slime video goes from harmlessly silly and takes a twist for the stabby. Mark declares "In order to appease the Dark Gods..." then he instructs the viewer to slice their palm and "whisper the words of power." The words in question? "They shall rise. They shall consume. All will be lost when they rise from the darkness of the ocean. Madness opens up to everything." When the making of the slime is concluded, he adds that "We all get to enjoy three years of peace before the Dark Gods consume us all."

I have no idea what that means, but I’m pretty sure it may involve Cthulhu chomping on my kidneys. (Then again, Darkiplier is a Lovecraftian monstrosity Himself. So, if it’s Him who’s one of the Dark Gods? He can have a kidney from me if He’s really that hungry. Kidneys are a redundant system anyway, so you really only need one.)

April Fool’s Day brought us the gag gift of The Official Markiplier Rock, with a suspiciously deep voice informing us that the rock is available in white. Additionally, the video warned to alert the SCP Foundation if the rock appears to start talking! (What? My rock has been talking to me since I got it, and there’s nothing wrong with me!)

Baldi’s Basics: Secret Ending featured an explanation about attaining the secret ending, with Mark’s otherwise normal voice echoing slightly with subtle white noise effects. (Hmmm...)

In December, for the charity livestream and archived in a video called Santa Spills The Tea, a Santa Claus that sounded suspiciously like Wilford Warfstache declared that Dark, the master manipulator and Big Bad of Mark’s channel, was a “sweetheart! He shouts a lot, but he’s just a big ol’ pussy. He can’t even possibly… he didn’t hurt anybody! He didn’t kill one person! If there’s anybody who’s on my naughty li— uh, on my list of people who’ve been bad, he’s the only one not on it.” (And mind you, in 2017′s Markiplier TV, Wilford sang a little ditty about how he killed Santa Claus and the kids wouldn’t be getting any presents that year. And Dark still convinced us to shoot someone in A Date With Markiplier, while apparently feigning regret. But heck, use your own judgement.)

Mark also dropped one heck of a hint of things to come in, of all places, Markiplier Tries Korean Beauty Products. There, the descriptive intro to the following year’s DAMIEN animated feature can be heard at one point. “Snow blankets the field, a pristine meadow of untouched white. No animals call. No birds cry. Only the steady rustling of wind through dead trees accented by the impact of his axe. A crack-like thunder rings out as the ancient pine finally succumbs to his murderous assault. The old giant crashes into the ground. Dami-”

Wilford Motherloving Warfstache was, of course, focused on the mustachioed entity. But there were elements to the short film that felt like Darkiplier was watching along with us. Particularly the VHS-style glitch at the end of the film.

Of course, there were only three videos that year that potentially contained Darkiplier himself.

One candidate is Fall in Love with Markiplier. Yes, the name on the title is Mark’s... but is it really him? The entirety of the film is a fourteen minute staring contest with Mark, as he lovingly (and somehow also creepily) gazes at the viewer in different settings -- by the ocean, at a dog park, and in a bubble bath. The only spoken words are in the intro, over the strains of the music from A Date with Markiplier: “It’s scientifically proven that you can fall in love with someone simply by maintaining eye-contact for an extended period of time. So now, you can fall in love with Markiplier all over again in these three locations. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

The second candidate is World’s 5th Quietest Let’s Play, released just 5 days prior to the Let’s Have a Romantic Staring Contest video. Unlike the previously mentioned video, there’s more going on this time around. The game to be played quietly this time around is Bennett Foddy’s infamous rage-inducing creation “Getting Over It”. 

He threatens the developer with the words, “You will see the inside of your entrails, when I drag them out of your abdomen and show them to you.” (Ah, how romantic.) He goes even further than that, saying soon after, “This is a representation of My sins... You will be purged in the fires of absolution, along with all of your ilk. I will burn the heretics that you are harbouring inside of your soul... I will destroy you.” (Now there’s the smite-happy Hellgod we all love!)

But He doesn’t stop there, snarling under His breath, “You will burn in the fires of My own hell! And I will choose your pain to last eternity!” However, He is ultimately defeated by the game, departing our company with  “Alas, I leave you now, to slumber amongst the ancients.” (Aww, poor guy needs a hug. And I know just who’s ready to snuggle with Him...)

But the last of the video to potentially contain Darkiplier is... the four-hour long play through of Hearts & Heroes. Is it canon Dark? No, probably not. It’s a fan game, though the words of dialogue are acted out by Mark himself. But rather than simply recounting key phrases for you, here’s the Boss Battle between Mark’s team and Dark, edited by the lovely icedpinkpeebles (Mark’s goofy character names and all!):

So, what does all of this ultimately mean? Why did Darkiplier fade into the background in 2018? And, most importantly, what is He up to now?

The truth is I don’t know any more than you do. I can only guess.

But I can tell you this: We don’t know Darkiplier as well as we all think we do. Many of us (including me) fully expected Dark to raise hell following the events of the jokey Darkiplier vs Antisepticeye video in 2017 (because He did mention how He hates being mocked!). And while we did get more Dark at the end of that year, it was in the form of an origin story.

Whatever Dark’s planning, we’re not going to see it coming. Because He’s playing a long game. And when you’re immortal like He is, you have all the time in the world to get what you want. Be it for love or revenge, Darkiplier remains a force to be reckoned with.

But here we are, in the eye of the storm. Only time will tell before the final wrath of the hurricane makes landfall.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

More “No Racism in Fandom”

https://princeescaluswords.tumblr.com/post/612666763445944320/more-no-racism-in-fandom#notes

https://brydeswhale.tumblr.com/post/612668772496637952/more-no-racism-in-fandom#notes

Claude @princeescaluswords Frollo:

Didn’t you hear? There is no racism in the Teen Wolf Fandom! (And even if there was, it wouldn’t be a big deal.)

So, there’s absolutely no racism in the new Teen Wolf story I read yesterday. It’s part of a very popular series. It’s one of those extra chapters people connect to a greater work. There are, of course, no tags for CHARACTER BASHING, or GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, or THE AUTHOR IS AN ENORMOUS SCUMBAG RACIST.

The interesting part is that it’s not a whole story. It’s not even a narrative. It’s just little extra scene they slid in to help set the atmosphere. It’s got Peter Hale, Derek Hale, Alan Deaton, and Marin Morrell in a room, talking about history.

Now, this is an AU. Which means the author has the right to change things from canon. This is gives them freedom, but, I believe, gives them responsibility. So, you have to understand, all of the following revelations are not from canon, but from the author’s own mind.

First things first, Peter Hale – still a serial killer and a con artist, though his attempt to murder teenagers in season 4 is reduced to “Peter and Scott fought over Scott’s alpha powers” – reveals that the Hale fire was not the fault of Derek being seduced by Kate, which the audience has believed for eight years. It turns out that there were powerful wards on the house – things never mentioned in canon, things never even hinted at in canon – that would have prevented Kate from approaching the house with ill intent. She couldn’t overcome unless someone let them lapse.

You guessed it! Deaton let them lapse because he was too busy talking to pretty girls in bars. You know those black men – sexually aggressive and irresponsible!

Next, instead of insisting Laura come home from college in New York – a new interesting tidbit we never even heard a whisper – Deaton shipped Derek off to her, depriving the territory (a word that doesn’t exist in canon) of a leader. You see, somehow Deaton was able to convince the authorities to ship an unrelated child across the country without anyone objecting and without actually interacting with Derek, who we know had never met him. Them black men, so lazy! He was so irresponsible that he dumped more Hale children – Brett and Lori – off on Satomi rather than take care of them himself. After all, black men are deadbeats when it comes to children.

(This story could be renamed the Greatest Hits of Anti Black Male Stereotypes.)

It doesn’t stop there. Deaton is accused of neglecting his duties because he chose to focus on Scott rather than Laura, Derek, or Peter. Because he’s their House Elf. His life is not his.

And then, he’s accused of damaging the minds of Isaac, Scott, Stiles, and Allison with his unnecessary ice baths (I’m not sure why the author thinks Isaac’s mind was damaged. Maybe it was because he kicked Derek to the curb and went with an alpha that wouldn’t use him a child soldier.) He also – get this! – knew that the nogitsune was in the tree and knew it would be dangerous for Stiles because of his non-fucking-existent Sparkity-Spark-Spark.

So you see – all the mistakes of white people, from Serial-Killer Petey, to Derek, Lord of Bad Decisions, to the United States Government – they are not actually the mistakes of white people at all. They are actually, 100% the fault of the black man who didn’t kiss enough white ass in canon.

To top off this extravaganza of white supremacy, the author has Peter carve a RUNE OF PENANCE into Deaton’s back. I’m not able to read the author’s mind, so I have no idea whether they meant to call back to the Antebellum South and owners branding their runaway slaves.

Now, this is an AU – which means that canon doesn’t matter. But it also means that the author is 100% responsible for what they put up on the page. And what they put up on the page is hot racist garbage. I want to share it with you because I had to share it with someone.

I can hear people saying – you’re being way too mean. This is fiction! It’s not real. After all, these characters aren’t real, so the author can indulge in any sort of depravity they care to indulge in and no harm, no foul.

I keep forgetting the cardinal rule of fandom –

In fiction you can be as racist as you want to be – in real life, you have to hide it

#teen wolf fandom problems #fandom racism #alan deaton #fanfiction #shameless #big big big time fandom racism

~*~*~

Come collect your toxic middle aged garbage, Scott McCall/Tyler Posey Defense Squad

-

What, and I sincerely do mean this, the fuck. 

I’m just

I’m astounded? I mean Jesus Christ, that’s a lot to unpack. PEW is being especially awful here and it would actually be impressive how much he’s managed to miss the point, if it weren’t so horrifying. 

First of all, given that this work is an Alternate Universe, the author is free to write WHATEVER THEY DAMN WELL PLEASE, regardless of whether we ever “heard a whisper of it” in canon. 

Second of all, since PEW is obsessed with canon, I think all of those actions with Deaton are perfectly reasonable to assume given what we know about him. And what do we know? That he was the Hale Emissary. That the Hales died during that time. That when Derek came back, Deaton made no attempt to work with him, and actively worked against him, with Scott. 

It’s not implying that he’s sexually aggressive or lazy just to have Deaton in a bar talking to women? What the fuck? Your incel is showing, PEW. If anything, it was just a way to open the plot; the author needed the wards to fall, and if Deaton was in control of the wards, then Deaton needed to not be maintaining them. Simple as that, just a decision to move the plot forward. Just because you didn’t like it, doesn’t mean it was bad writing, and it certainly doesn’t mean it was racist. 

Deaton convincing the authorities to ship Derek off the Laura? Um, no. She was his older sister, and as far as we know in canon, his only living relative. He would have been sent to Laura regardless, that how the system works. Once again, that’s not implying that Deaton is lazy. That is literally what would have happened in a real life situation. 

Deaton did make a mistake in canon by neglecting Derek/his pack. We know, IN CANON, that Deaton was pledged to the Hale pack as their Emissary; that means his loyalty does belong to them. We never see him pledge himself in that way to Scott, he never claims he is Scott’s emissary, and in fact, if my memory serves, he does say/imply that he’s not an emissary at all anymore. 

As for damaging the teens: did you forget that Isaac was put in that ice bath specifically to do a spell to access his memories? And you do know memories are stored in the brain? And that Deaton said/heavily implied it could hurt Isaac if they weren’t careful? Yeah, he was very much endangering Isaac, and Allision, Scott, and especially Stiles, since he was a human and therefore guaranteed susceptible to hypothermia. But there is also the fact that they were dead for several hours. Hellooo, brian damage! That is not at all an unfair assessment to make. 

PEW once again shows us just how disgusting he really is. I hope that poor author is getting support from the fandom. 

[thisislizheather]

The Witches Are Coming by Lindy West - A Review

I’ve been waiting for this book of essays to come out for months and it was so, so worth the the wait. I know it’s asking a lot, but can this woman please just write a book every year? Or every six months? That’d be great, thanks. Favourite parts ahead!

“This moment in history is about more than individual interactions between individual people. Those matter, too - it matters how you made your subordinate feel with that comment, and it matters quite a lot that the woman on the bus went home and sobbed after you groped her - but, as Rebecca Traister wrote in December 2017 on The Cut: “This moment isn’t just about sex. It’s about work.” It’s about who feels at home in the workplace and who feels like an outsider - which, by extension, dictates who gets to thrive and ascend, who gets to hire their replacements, who gets to set their children up for success, who gets credit and glory, and who gets forgotten. It’s about who feels safe in public spaces and who doesn’t. Which is to say, it’s about everything.”

“We gobble up cable news’ insistence that both sides of an argument are equally valid and South Park’s insistence that both sides are equally stupid, because taking a firm stance on anything opens us up to criticism.”

“We kept letting Adam Sandler make more movies after Little Nicky, because white men are allowed to fail spectacularly and keep their jobs.”

There’s literally an entire chapter on Adam Sandler movies that is perfection. You have to read it. Seriously, just pick this up at a bookstore and read that one chapter, if nothing else.

I loved all of her points about how there was endless discussion about The Ted Bundy Tapes when it came out earlier this year and how we debated whether this murdering monster was handsome or not. And how that same type of debate is somehow in the same arena as when people debate whether Elizabeth Warren is “likable” or not.

There’s a part in the Ted Bundy special where the judge sympathizes with Bundy and goes on a ridiculous tangent about how it’s “such a shame” that he turned out that way when he had so much potential, it’s truly disgusting to see a judge commiserate with a rapist and murderer, but it happened and it’s wild to see. “That anecdote is often held up as evidence of Bundy’s charisma - even the judge sentencing him to death was seduced by that smirk, that finger wave. But it is the most blatant, overwhelming evidence we have for the opposite. Men don’t need charisma to succeed. It doesn’t matter if men are likable, because men are people who do things, who don’t have to ask first, whose potential has value even after it is squandered.”

“Chasing likability has been one of women’s biggest setbacks, by design. I don’t know that rejecting likability will get us anywhere, but I know that embracing it has gotten us nowhere.”

Absolutely in love with the fact that she loves the movie Clue as much as I do.

I really liked the chapter that she discussed Gwyneth Paltrow’s GOOP, even if I did wish that she went in on her/the brand harder.

So in love with the chapter where she talks about South Park and its creators. I’ve always hated that show, it’s never been good, and I can’t understand who the hell would be into it. It’s never been funny, edgy, smart. Insane that it’s still on.

Maybe I’m really reading into it, but there’s a tiny part where she mentions that PETA sucks and I can’t stop all my little inside screams - it’s hard to find somewhere who dislikes all the same stuff as you.

“Men think that misogyny is a women’s issue; women’s to endure and women’s to fix. White people think that racism is a pet issue for people of color; not like the pure, economic grievances of the white working class. Rape is a rape victim’s problem: What was she wearing? Where was she walking? Had she had sex before?“

“Whenever talk turned toward solutions, the panel came back to mentorship: women lifting up other women. Assertiveness and leaning in and ironclad portfolios and marching into that interview and taking the space you deserve and changing the ratio and not letting Steve from accounting talk over you in the morning. During the closing question-and-answer period, a young woman stood up. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice electric with anger, “but all I’ve heard tonight are a bunch of things women can do to fight sexism. Why is that our job? We didn’t build the system. This audience should be full of men.”

“Sexism is a male invention. White supremacy is a white invention. Transphobia is a cisgender invention. So far, men have treated #MeToo like a bumbling dad in a detergent commercial: well intentioned by floundering, as though they are not the experts. You are the experts. Only 2.6 percent of construction workers are female. We did not install that glass ceiling, and it is not our responsibility to demolish it.”

When talking about what men can actually do to help women: ”“Do you ever stick up for me?” sounds childish, but I don’t know that gussying up the sentiment in more sophisticated language would enhance its meaning. It isn’t fun to be the one who speaks up. Our society has engineered robust consequences for squeaky wheels, a verdant pantheon from eye rolls all the way up to physical violence. One of the subtlest and most pervasive is social ostracism: coding empathy as the fun killer, consideration for others as an embarrassing weakness, and dissenting voices as out-of-touch, bleeding-heart dweebs (at best). Coolness is a fierce disciplinarian. A result is that, for the most part, the only people weathering those consequences are the ones who don’t have the luxury of staying quiet. Women, already impeded and imperiled by sexism, also have to carry the social stigma of being feminist buzzkills if they call attention to it. People of color not only have to deal with racism; they also have to deal with white people labeling them “angry” or “hostile” or “difficult” for objecting. What we could use is some loud, unequivocal backup.”

“I know there’s pressure not to be a dorky, try-hard male feminist stereotype; there’s always a looming implication that you could lose your spot in the boys’ club; if you seem too opportunistic or performative in your support, if you suck up too much oxygen and demand praise, women will yell at you for that, too. But I need you to absorb that risk. I need you to get yelled at and made fun of, a lot, and if you get kicked out of the club, I need you to be relieved, and I need you to help build a new one.”

The entire chapter about the complications with Joan Rivers is such a great one.

“You can hate someone and love them at the same time. Maybe that’s a natural side effect of searching for heroes in a world not built for you.”

Okay, so the only thing that we strongly disagree on is her previous love for Adam Carolla. Always hated that man.

““Common sense’” without growth, curiosity, or perspective eventually becomes conservatism and bitterness.”

“There are pieces of pop culture that you outgrow because you get older. Then there are pieces of pop culture that you outgrow because you get better.”

“Art has no obligation to evolve, but it has a powerful incentive to do so. Art that is static, that captures a dead moment, is nothing. It is, at best, nostalgia; at worst, it can be a blight on our sense of who we are, a shame we pack away. Artists who refuse to listen, participate, and change along with the world around them are not being silenced or punished by censorious college sophomores. They are letting obsolescence devour them, voluntarily. Political correctness is just the inexorable turn of the gear. Falling behind is preventable.”

Talking about Ricky Gervais:” “People see something they don’t like, and they expect it to stop,” he said. “The world is getting worse. Don’t get me wrong, I think I lived through the best fifty years of humanity, 1960 through 2015, the peak of civilization for everything. For tolerances, for freedoms, for communication, for medicine! And now it’s going the other way a little bit.” “Dumpster fire” has emerged as the favorite emblem of our present sociopolitical moment, but that Gervais quote feels more apt and more tragic as a metaphor: the Trump/Brexit era is a rich, famous, white, middle-aged man declaring the world to be in decline the moment he stops understanding it.”

“Adam Carolla isn’t angry because he’s being silenced; he’s angry because he’s being challenged. He’s been shown the road map to continued relevance, and it doesn’t lead back to his mansion. He’s angry because he’s being asked to do the basic work of maintaining a shared humanity or else be left behind. He’s choosing the past. Gervais and Carolla are not alone in presenting themselves as noble bulwarks against a wave of supposed leftwing censorship. (A Netflix special, for the record, is not what “silencing” looks like.)”

Talking Louis CK: “Less than a year after his vow to retreat and listen, CK made the laziest and most cowardly choice possible: to turn away from the difficult, necessary work of self-reflection, growth, and reparation, and run into the comforting arms of people who don’t think it’s that big a deal to show your penis to female subordinates. Conservatives adore a disgraced liberal who’s willing to pander to them because he’s too weak to grow. How pathetic to take them up on it.”

“Like every other feminist with a public platform, I am perpetually cast as a disapproving scold. But what’s the alternative? To approve? I do not approve.” - This is probably my most favourite line in the entire book

“Not only are women expected to weather sexual violence, intimate partner violence, workplace discrimination, institutional subordination, the expectation of free domestic labor, invisible cuts that undermine us daily, we are not even allowed to be angry about it.”

“I’d been taught that when ordinary people try to do activism, they look stupid. Of course now I know that there is no effective activism without the passion and commitment of ordinary people and it is a basic duty of the privileged to show up and fight for issues that don’t affect us directly. But maintaining that separation has served the status quo well. It keeps good people always just shy of taking action. It’s tone policing. It’s the white moderate. But it’s changing.”

“Diet culture is a coercive, misogynist pyramid scheme that saps women’s economic and political power.”

Definitely the best thing I’ve read all year. GO BUY!

[alcapwner]

My favorite GenCon 2018 story

Then later I played Cyberpunk 2020 for the first time. It was a lot of fun! It's a d10 system, but other than that, it plays nearly identically to D&D. I made a Med-Tech (basically a medic) who's handle is "Bed-Tech".  His backstory is tragic, but hilarious. Bed-Tech (idk his real name) used to be a hotshot physician at a hospital in Night City. But one day, he was getting frisky with a nurse on a bed in an empty room on a floor that was being renovated. But someone happened upon them anyway, and he got fired and banned from practicing medicine. Somehow, Night City as a whole learned about this, and a new meme was born: "Bed-Tech The Med-Tech".e.g. "Hey, Bed-Tech, have you tried out any new beds lately?" So the plot of these missions was as follows:

A rockstar named Cindy Williams wants to get out of the contract with her record label (which is also a mega-corporation). She's the daughter of the last mayor of Indianapolis, which has since been largely abandoned (the interior of America was abandoned during the Fourth Corporate War). So, not only does she want to get out of Night City, but she also wants to colonize Indianapolis and become its mayor. To that end, she throws "Cindy Williams' Last Gig Ever." The whole party gets invitations, as well as hundreds of teenagers and young adults, to the skyscraper it took place at. 

 Some of the party members attempt to sneak their weapons into the event (nothing nefarious; Night City just happens to be dangerous). I was one of them. My first attempt to sneak my gun in was to go in through the parking garage, as the residents never get hassled over weapons, only guests do.  The residents enter the garage by scanning a card, which raises the gate and lets the vehicle inside. So I tried to hack the card reader. But I'm not a Netrunner, so this fails miserably. GM: "You whack the card reader with a piece of rebar. Nothing happens." Me: "Fuck! If only I was better at hacking." GM: "I'd have this gate open already if only it was a nurse!" So, I gave up immediately. This, of course, was followed by more uproarious laughter. I was defeated by a goddamn card reader! 

So I decided that I would try to sneak my gun past the guards instead. However, it turned out that the door had a scanner. It wasn't just a pat-down. So instead, I tried to bribe the guards with 100 euro dolllars. This went about as well as you'd expect. Which is to say I rolled a natural 1. GM: "So, you hand the guard 100 euro bucks. He then has you put your gun in the little metal tray. You go through the scanner and ask for your gun back, but he doesn't give it back." Me: "Great. I'm out 100 euro bucks." Party: "Hey, mission accomplished though! You actually got inside the club!" Cue uproarious laughter, which I gladly partook in. To me, this was all completely hilarious. In fact, if I ever quote anything here, you can just assumed we were all laughing.

So, at the end of the show, Cindy invites us up to the 100th floor of the skyscraper, where her office/apartment is located. And she offers us the Indy job. Just as we're about to accept, however, heavily armored German-speaking mercenaries rappel in through the windows. Only two of us have our guns at the moment, and one of them is our elite mercenary. So, another one of us puts his armor jacket on an office chair, and gives it to the mercenary. The plan is as follows: use the chair as cover, and get to the elevator and get reinforcements from the ground floor. So he's running past the mercs, and his bullets are just bouncing off of their armor (because he's not actually making attack rolls). And these mercs are just kinda...watching. 

 Keep in mind that these are hardened killers. They're used to toppling small countries and destroying mega-corps. They don't know how to deal with...this. So he's running to the elevator, and the elevator chimes before he can get to it. GM: "You're a professional mercenary. And you know for a fact that there's no way they sent more mercs to secure the elevator and cut off one of your only escape routes. It's just not possible, in your professional opinion." So of course six more mercs come out of the elevator. Cue Benny Hill music, and our merc runs back the office without being shot at.Merc: "So, um, we need a new plan."

In the interest of time, I will list the plans in numbered list format.

1.  One of us grabs a knife from the kitchen, and challenges the merc captain to a trial by combat. He gives up when the captain punches him in the mouth. He runs and hides in the broom closet. Nobody comes after him.

2. The guy who went out with him grabs a rope and tries to rappel down the side of the building, before remembering how tall the building is and how short the rope is. The mercs actually help him back onto the building, zip-tie him, and forget about him.

3. The Netrunner manages to get a link past the mercs' jamming frequency, and gets more kids to come to the event, saying that an encore will happen. Thousands of children and young adults are mobilized, but the door guards stop them.(edited)

4. The GM mentions that one of the German mercenaries is a woman, which I know because she has her helmet off. I decide that my character has a dumbass plan. He goes out the door and tries to seduce the fraulein (while her captain is watching, no less). I roll a 5+7=12, which is decent, but I still get zip-tied. I make a comment about her being kinky. She discreetly slips me her number.

5. The Merc and the Netrunner go into the kitchen and try to make a bomb out of kitchen ingredients. This somehow succeeds , and they blow a hole in the kitchen floor. The refrigerator plummets down the hole. The Merc and the Netrunner find themselves in the 99th floor apartment, which is occupied by an Asian couple. The mercs decide that they have to investigate this dumbass explosion. They send three mercs. Our merc fires back when they poke their heads down (as the Asian couples watches dis-interestedly). Somehow, our merc snuck an assault rifle in, when I couldn't even bring my pistol! He seriously wounds one of the Germans, but when shooting the second one, he rolls all ones and twos on a 4d6+1 damage roll. They fire back, and reduce him from 28 to 3 hit points. GM: "You're still alive, but you're missing some bits. Basically, you look like a Van Gogh painting." Our merc manages to get away with the Netrunner, though it's looking bad for him. Netrunner: "If only we had someone in our party who could heal you!"

I take the hint. By the time my character heard the explosion, I had already discreetly slipped out of my restraints.  I jump up and run towards the kitchen. However, the three mercs are returning to the living room at this point. I collide with them, and fail to bowl them over. One of the mercs is the woman I partially seduced. Thinking quickly, I say: Me: "I just had to come see you again, Mein Fraulein! I heard the explosion and the gunfire, and I had to make sure you were okay!" Her:  "Oh, don't worry, your idiot friends couldn't kill me no matter how hard they tried. Now please, darling, put your restraints back on." Me (dejectedly): "Okay."

The captain addresses us at this point:"You people are perhaps the worst people we have ever had the displeasure of dealing with. Normally, we can just go in and BLAM! Kill the bad guys. But we can't do that with you, even though you tried to kill us! Our job was just to scare Frau Williams, not kill her! She actually got away, so mission accomplished, I guess?"

[scribbling-scribbles]

Main Story Outline

Black and White (working title)

Part I- Will joins the Black court (White Court)

Who's Red

meeting

remember? Backstory (kinda)

what is the white court? What do you do? 

This is abuse. I'm getting you out

I get you have a skewed perspective, but, really!

you don't need to be anyone's soldier

you sold your SOUL?!

Okay, how can we do this? It's time for research! 

Introduce Glass Mask sub-plot

A powerful artifact and semi-sentient, produced as the universe’s counter to magic.

Will is intrigued, but ultimately decides the mask would be too dangerous to use.

At some point, Will dips into more magical sources, either on purpose or by accident, and one of the Black Lady’s servants comes to confront him.

A method! Let us execute it!

The Board and the Rites

Preparing

Finding. The damn. Contracts.

Start the Rites

Crap!

Attack! (Battle of the Board)(that's as far as they get before they are caught. The Board has some very powerful magical significance, though, and is usually where part of the contract-making process occurs)

Will sells his soul, and regains some memories.

Part II- Will and Red re-align and plan (Black Court)

Introduction to the court

Infinite apartment building, from a modification on the standard infinite forest. As far as human members are concerned, exits only lead to the Board, the Market, and various points in the human world. These exits are arrayed around the building, almost seeming at random, but there is a pattern somewhere. There is a time dilation, but not a large or consistent one. Like +/- 1 day.

The Black Lady, her rules and ruling

The court and the developers

It appears I need a new name.

Who are you guys? What are we doing

Time passes

Will/Tim befriends the developers and other members of the court

Angst and sweetness with Joe/ Volto

Any’s mech, a subplot 

Movie night!

Damn, the Game’s sound kind of even more horrible than I thought.

The Basement, i.e. the torture chamber for Bad Courtiers (maybe run by Steve? Maybe Steve is constantly tortured? Steve is involved)

Tim does R&D

Let’s all go to the Market!

Continuation of the Glass Mask sub-plot

I have modified some cool magic based off of physics because gODDAMNIT, science works!

Tim is slightly obsessed with incorporating iron into anything possible. Iron salts are his new best friend. 

Tim and Red (Rose) meet (again)

So I was hoping you would still remember me? No? Well s hit.

Timur should have expected it sooner.

I’m not a Black mage. I just wanted us to be clear on that. I am a developer, there is a difference, I'm not on the board.

I didn't give my whole name. This should give me a bit more leeway in my obedience. I still can't outright harm, but neglect and sedition is much easier than it would have been.

We're friends. I mean, I forgot, now you've forgotten... It's complicated.

We had a plan. Not a good one, but it existed.

No, really, they're evil, I swear

Tim becomes a piece.

Fuck.

After first game

Will and Taylor team up

We are looking for leads a bit deeper in Faerieland and oH SHOOT WE'VE BEEN ATTACKED, but Tim saves the day.

Emma shows up

The hell are you doing here?!/ Nerd?! // What the hell, you remember me?/ What the hell, you're real?

New recruits came all the time 

Some more dialogue

"I sold it," Tim said

Some more dialogue

"What did you trade?"

Tim explains what he can/ is willing to.

Emma’s side of it

“I was pretty sure I remembered you, but there was no official documents proving you existed, so that messed me up for a while.”

“Then I decided ‘screw that’ and went to find you anyway.”

There was a sound like discordant wind chimes.

“What you thought I found you all by myself? Heck no, I got help.”

Team includes Stacy (phone friend), a couple other of

Emma’s friends, and Peter, Will’s friend who no longer remembers him.

No one has official connections to either Court except Emma.

(Huh) says Tim (A team sounds like a good idea. Maybe I should look into that)

“And they… believe you?” “Kinda? Some of them do at least. Peter thinks its a government cover up.”

"Well. Hmm. Can I bring my baby sister into this crazy plan?”

Debate

Some internal debate.

Some debate with Red.

Verdict: Hell No.

A nightmare

Part III- A better and more viable plan, i.e. let's do a revolution. (Gray Gang)

Guess who wants to get involved? That’s right, it’s Emma.

“No.” says Tim.

Spectrum

Who are they?

(Was Ash)- royal self-aligned (ineligible for throne) pansexual non binary (genderfluid) (Prince, but non binary, thanks.)

Oh, you didn’t know this is just about succession? Wait, you thought this was about Unseelie and Seelie? Dudes, no.

Someone contaminated me. See the wings? Blue, means I'm impure, unfit to rule. 

Also, I'm like, way younger.

What will they do for us?

Legitimate heir to the throne, could challenge their sisters and demand the freedom of all the Bonded.

“I mean, I don't really feel like doing anything, but if you've got something to offer…”

“What do you want?” “I'm loooonely, be my friend.” “Oh, sure.”

Also, say Spectrum, to themself, That is a very cute boy right there and I want to seduce him.

This will not work. At all.

The Gray gang 

Emma has weedled her way into this mission.

Does not bring her group, but is in contact with them.

They try to see if they can do anything more mundane for them.

What are you?

Support group for ex-courtiers.

Made of both Black and White.

The Ones That Got Out Too Late

Courtiers who were only able to escape after they had lost a significant portion of humanity. They cannot rejoin human society.

Headed (loosely) by two who joined back in the middle ages or earlier, one from each court, they got immortality, and have honestly lived long enough at this point and soaked up enough ambient magic that they are two thirds of the way to fae already. This would worry them, if they weren’t already beyond the point of caring about pretty much anything.

Umber

Black

Original deal was for immortality, but boy do they regret that now.

Lux

White

They are one of the very few Old Whites, since humans in the White Court tend to lose their humanity through weird, magical osmosis, and the iron in their own blood starts to poison them. The ones who survived made some kind of deal to counteract that.

The Ones That Got Out With Nothing

What it says on the tin

Identity erased, no family, no money, nothing.

Maybe a boon, but it’s a pretty useless one now.

The Ones That Got Out With Trauma

May or may not have returned to family.

But how do you explain that for a while you were a soldier in a war of immortal, amoral beings?

Maybe you killed for them, and if you did, what does that make you?

Maybe you made weapons, and does that make you as bad as a killer?

Who knows! These are not fun questions!

Magic addiction is totally a thing, and very hard to satisfy unless you were born naturally gifted.

Operate under the radar

Apparently, they've been around a while.

Boy, we could have used you in part one.

Yeah, well, we've been trying to keep a low profile. You are not at all low profile.

“Touché, but what is your plan?” “Help the people who actually get out.”

New idea: what if you teamed up with us and help stage a revolution?

Hell no.

We do have this semi-legitimate heir to the throne to utilize?

No, that's worse, we're not working for THEM anymore.

Well, you wouldn't be working for Spec either, they just make the thing binding.

(Also) says Tim to himself, (Glass Mask backup plan)

Fine, I guess.

Hey, Spec, guess what!

Oh sweet, says Spec, also, did some looking, turns out there is a not unsmall faction of fae who also do not like this system.

Hell yes

Turns out they have a similarish set up on my side.

It’s Maren and Mark.

Hell yes

Part IV- Now that we’ve decided to do this thing, let’s do some awesome prep work (my favorite part) and then FIGHT! (Red Army)

Strategy/ inspiring speech montage (best part),

Tim, Red, Emma, and some of her crew hang with the Gray Gang with more frequency.

Tim is a good big picture/big plan guy, but Red is where we really get strategy.

The breakdown goes like this: Tim: Here is a goal/ step that needs to be accomplished Spec: Here are some ways to do that and their cost/benefits. Red: Here is which one is most tactically sound, given out resources and position. GG/Em Folks: Here is what you need to do that, let's go!

Tim is able to recruit some folks from the Black Court, those who do not have very constricting contracts, or those that can leave, or those that find loopholes.

Somehow, the Ladies find out about the planned rebellion and the Gang base is attacked.

The base is attacked by fae soldiers and/or loyal bonded humans

Short scuffle where some folks including Tim fight as a diversion while others make an escape route and flee to an inbetween.

Tim gets stabbed.

Shoot! (Hey look, other allies, namely, Jo)

But hey, we have someone who can help!

Really? Say Red and Emma and Spec and any defectors and probably a bunch of GG folks as well.

Yeah, say a small group, now looking slightly sheepish, uh, their name is Jo.

JO!

Bit of their back story, probably starting with “Jo never realized the dangers of lending milk money to strange teenagers…”

Recoup

Hey, Spec, can we stage the final battle yet? We’re asking you ‘cause Tim’s unconscious. 

I mean, we wanted to wait until May (or November?) Day? Because of magical significance? That’s not too far off at this point.

Okay, so we need to hold out just a bit longer.

Tim wakes up and he is maaaaad…

He actually seems just a wee bit crazy right now

Like, instead of being ruthless but clean, now he’s plans almost seem, sloppy.

“Okay, so we do this and this...” “Tim, we can’t do both of those things at once for some reason you should really know and may have actually pointed out to us at some point.” “Ah, so we can’t, well-”

He is TERRIFIED and FURIOUS, and that is not the mood you want your teenager general to be in.

This whole time, there have been continuous small strikes at any GG/ defector/ fae ally groups that are out in the open.

Like, any time they need to get food, or when trying to communicate between mortal and fae side groups

One of these missions is headed by some of the fae side operatives, and results in the destruction of a few select contracts, including Red's.

This is not helping anyone, but it is especially not helping Tim.

He feels trapped, like everything is closing in on him.

Hey, Tim, you good?

The other folks are genuinely a bit worried about him now, because this does not seem like him at all

Oops, we lose Tim.

Tim is part of a group attacked by adversaries.

He was probably not supposed to be part of this group because he is recOVERING FROM A STAB WOUND and cannot fight or defend against any members of the Black Court.

Honestly, though, this almost feels like relief, ‘cause some of these folks are definitely Whites and this is SOMETHING as opposed to however long he’s been cooped up doing nothing but planning.

Tim is not typically a man of action, but anticipation gets to even him.

Either just Tim gets taken while providing cover for the rest (look, it’s easy to sacrifice theoretical soldiers, but it’s much harder to abandon the friends in front of you), or the whole group gets taken ‘cause Tim tried to abandon them, or just Tim gets taken for the same reason. (Option one sounds more like Tim, but options two/three fit better with the devolution arc.)

Crap.

Okay, so this is pretty bad; who knows what the Black Lady's doing to him?

We (the readers) do. She's torturing him for information about this upcoming attack and how he has been resisting her commands.

We gotta do something! 

It'd be too risky to spring him, says someone, we'd probably just get captured as well.

Hey, Spectrum, when were we planning on staging this whole thing again? In just a few days, Spec says, uncharacteristically grim, He'll have to hold out until then.

This visibly pains Spec, they really like Tim, possibly a crush.

PRE-BATTLE MONTAGE BABEEY!

A reiteration of the basic plan.

People are running around, suiting up however they suit up, saying their "I love you"s however they do.

Big speech, collaborative from Rose Red, Spectrum, Lux and Umber, Maren and Mark, and Emma.

What are we fighting for today?

What we have lost, what has been taken from us.

The many who have not escaped as we did.

A better society in the future. 

This is not a rescue mission. They are not going in to save Tim, there are going in to break the system. Saving Tim is just one of the good results of this. As such, this is not a rescue speech, this is a revolutionary's speech.

Battle! 

Includes the fantastic line of “talk s hit, get hit!” by someone attacking a chant based spellcaster.

Culmination of the “Any’s Mech” sub-plot (may be a two pilot mech with Em as the other pilot)

Also includes Albus' redemption, where he does something sacrificial to help/protect Rose Red and by extension The People's Court. (The Rainbow Court? What court is Spec?) Possibilities include Albus refusing to fight when played, kneeling in submission before his opponent. That's all I got right now.

So what does this involve, actually?

This is Spec making a formal claim to the throne and showing they have the manpower to back it up.

They have to fight their way there.

They escalate from “Right to be The Chosen Heir to the Monochrome Court” to “Make Me King Right Now I’ll Fight You”

So they set up a three-way board, each side playing for itself, but also trying to play the other two off each other.

The Black and White Ladies have pieces of various shapes and talents, but they all wear the color of their court. Spectrum's side lives up to their name, it is a riot of color from all of those who have pledged themselves to them.

This might be a no-mercy match, or at least the Ladies might try and play it that way, knowing that whoever wins this game gets all the contracts.

Resolution of the Glass Mask sub-plot

Tim escapes wherever he is because he never gave his whole true name.

Before this though, I want him to have a confrontation with the Black Lady.

"Magic likes a story right? So which one is this, huh? They say there are only seven basic plots, so which one is this?"

He says it's "Slaying the Monster"

Tim sees this as his only chance to fight on the side of what he sees as justice, since by submitting to the mask, he gives up any identity he has, including the identity he “gave” to the Black Lady.

True, he becomes a kind of raging monster, but hey, it means he isn’t fighting for the “wrong” side.

This Ends TERRIBLY.

He takes a deep breath before putting on the mask

Red, Spec, and Emma are understandably freaked the heck out, that’s their friend in that thing, and he doesn’t do this kind of thing! What is happening, and can our dude be saved? 

Maybe? Currently, we know of two options: option one, and the better backed option, we try to break the mask, which will collapse this current iteration. This will probably kill our dude. Option two, which is mostly just wishful thinking, is an act of true love, and they don’t really have much there either.

They end up having to go with option one, saving the Faerie dimension from certain doom.

“it’s over we won” *monster slowly staggers up in the background* *comrades point and try to speak* “No, it’s over. We won. We’re done now, everybody go home” *a meteorite drops from the sky, killing the monster* “Will…” “That was not me” “But Will-” “That was nOT ME”

Will may or may not have residual cosmic powers

Freedom for the bonded.

Probably collaborative shenanigans with Will’s maybe cosmic powers and Spec’s new legal ones.

Part V- So, how does one live after all this? (Epilogue)

Going home?

Welp, looks like my mom remembers me now. That’s nice I guess. She’s gonna kill me.

Welp, looks like my dad remembers me now. That sucks, I hate that guy.

I grew up in the nineteen thirties. Does my immortality still apply? If I leave the Faerie dimension do I die? I have no clue how life out there works anymore, and I have no living relatives I can contact for help.

I liked living here, do I have to leave?

Gray Gang to the rescue!

Umber and Lux are fae enough and served long enough to earn themselves actual small estates. They work with Mark and Maren and combine the property and modify it with Spec’s help so that people who need to can stay there.

Some of the people they had helped in the past actually grew up to be pretty successful, like doctor/ lawyer kind of successful. The Gray Gang gets into contact with them, and people who need it get human help (therapy, temporary living, working papers, etc.)

Effect on Faerie society

Specifically, what are our main characters doing?

Probably accomplished through a scene featuring some or all of them, talking about life.

Rose probably stays in Faerie as one of Spec’s most trusted knights, so she doesn’t have to worry about going back to her dad. She is of course welcome to stay with the Gerbers, but that could get dicey legally. She is still free to come and go from Faerie as she pleases, within reason.

A news report, or a scene from Rose’s dad’s perspective. She’s out getting groceries with Will and she sees him and just. Decks him. It’s great.

"Wiiiillllll," Rose whined, tugging on Will's sleeve like a needy two-year-old, "Willll, I neeeed iiiit."