Jack tossed and turned in his sleep, sweating profusely, his face set in a grimace. Still sleeping, he accidentally rolled out of his bed, hitting the floor with a thud. Moonlight poured through the window, illuminating him as he let out a groan, waking up. Fuck, why did he ache all over? He felt feverish, his vision swimming. He attempted to stand up but fell back to the ground, his legs were tangled in his sheets. He grumbled in annoyance and got to work on detangling himself.
He suddenly winced, clutching at his head as a splitting headache started up. A sharp pain lit up all over his body and his breathing quickened, coming out in pained gasps. What was going on? He pulled his legs up against his chest, holding them tightly as tears streamed from his eyes. The pain continued to get worse till he couldn’t take it anymore. He screamed, calling out for the only other person in the house, “Mark! Help! Please, it hurts!” His voice breaking into sobs. Unbeknownst to him his eyes had started to glow an eerie gold with a faint green tint.
Mark jolted awake as heard Jack’s scream. Jack had come to L.A. to visit for a week and had been staying in Mark’s guest bedroom. Jack? Was that Jack he just heard scream? His suspcions were confirmed when he heard yet another scream, this one louder, the noise becoming animalistic sounding towards the end. It was definitely coming from Jack’s room. He quickly got to feet and rushed to the guest bedroom. He burst through the door and froze at what he saw. Jack was standing on all fours, panting heavily. Sharp, black claws adorned his hands and his feet and lower legs were like those of a wolf, covered in dark brown fur that was tipped with silver. His eyeteeth were fangs and his eyes were a greenish gold. A fuzzy tail tipped in silver swished behind him. Furry brown ears sat atop his head. “S-sean?” Mark said cautiously, concern evident in his voice.
Jack looked up him as he heard his voice. He trembled as his mind was bombarded with sounds and smells he wouldn’t normally notice. One in particular stuck out to him. It was cold and sickly sweet, like antifreeze. That scent spelt danger, it spelt death. Instincts told him the scent was of a rival predator. And that scent was coming from the man stood before him. A low growl rumbled in his chest.
Shit, Jack could smell him, he knew what he was. “C’mon Sean, it’s me. Mark. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You can trust me,” Mark said, his voice soft and soothing. Jack’s growl deepened into a snarl and he lunged at him. Mark dodged with inhuman speed and grabbed Jack, pinning him to the ground. His eyes changed to a bright red, the pupils slitting. When he opened his mouth to speak, you could see sharp, slender fangs had replaced the eyeteeth on his top jaw. “Sean, get a grip! Don’t let your instincts control you! You know me,” He said, looking him in the eyes.
Jack shrunk back at the sight of Mark’s red eyes, fear evident in his. “M-mark? W-what are you?” He said quietly, scared. Mark chuckled darkly. “You’re the werewolf. You tell me,” He said. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you?” Jack said after a few moments. Mark nodded. “Yeah, I got turned a few days after Daniel died,” Mark said. It was one of the reasons why he had taken a break from Youtube then. It wasn’t just the grief, he had to learn control himself. But why was Jack a werewolf? He knew he wasn’t bitten, and hereditary werewolves usually changed at 18 at the latest. Wait, could he be why? He had heard stories about how if a human with a werewolf heritage hung around vampires enough, their werewolf genes would wake up as a defense mechanism. Is that what happened? Did hanging out with him cause Jack to lose his humanity?
"You’re not gonna bite me are you?“ Jack said, nervously. Mark chuckled. “No, I don’t eat dogs,” He joked. “Then can you get off me now? Not that I don’t like being held down by yeh but my tail’s pressed against the ground at an odd angle and it hurts,” Jack said. “Oh, shit, yeah! Sorry,” Mark said awkwardly, quickly getting off of him. He stood up and offered his hand, helping Jack to his feet.
Jack was silent for a few moments. “So, since you seem to know more about this than I do, would you mind showing me the ropes?” He said. “Sure, just do go chasing any squirrels okay? As their king it is my duty to protect them,” Mark said, unable to resist making a dog joke. “Oh go suck on my taint ya overgrown mosquito,” Jack said. “Don’t tempt me,” Mark said, grinning like an idiot. “Thought ya said ya don’t eat dogs,” Jack said, smirking. “I might make an exception,” Mark replied. “You’re such a doof, ya know that?” “Yes, but better to be a doof than a hardass.” The banter went on for an hour before they finally went back to bed.
(( wrote this a while back on deviant art. please note that this isn’t septiplier, i just miss when they used to jokingly flirt with / tease each other, it was always hilarious ))
Two days ago, on Halloween, a terror attack happened (allegedly in the name of ISIS), killing eight people and injuring almost a dozen near 4 schools. Despite this class was still in session the next day.
How would aliens feel about all this? There are groups of humans that feel justified spreading terror and mass murder to spread a message, and there are humans who feel this is the only way to do so.
Big cities swallow it whole, though. They just take the tragedy, offer help to those who need it, and keep going on as normal.
Deathworlders, indeed.
The door to the engineering bay glides open, with only the sound of compressed air being released to alert the sole occupant. In strolls a small being, feathered from large blunt, beaked, head, to scaly, taloned feet in red plumes with blue accenting feathers around the eyes. The RRSS Talons-of-Roost commanding officer, Red-Winged-Gale walks to the Human engineer as the human stands at attention.
“At ease Trevor-Smith-Manhatten,” Red-Winged-Gale responds, “I have been informed…” Red-Winged-Gale’s voice cracks a bit in a distressed caw. “Informed that your roost–er, your hometown–has been attacked by–”
“I know,” Trevor interrupts, “I read the news this morning. Eight dead…” Trevor gives a low whistle. “God damn, what’s my world coming to?”
“Well, erm, yes. If you need to take the day off and mourn if for the attack upon your roost– I mean, hometown.”
Trevor looks at his commanding officer in confusion. “Thank you sir, but I have no need to do so,” he turns back to continue checking the gauges on the Anti-matter reactor.
It was Red-Winged-Gale’s turn to look at Trevor in confusion. “Are you not sad at the attack upon your ro–hometown?”
“Well, yeah, but shit happens, life goes on. Hell, if I stopped work for every day someone in New York died, I’d never work again.” Trevor shrugged the suggestion away. “Besides, that’s how they win.”
Red-Winged-Gale looks befuddled at Trevor. He learned long ago that humans tended to be a strange lot, and questions only begat more questions. Still, he had to open his beak and asked, “Are you not afraid?”
Trevor stiffens his shoulders. Red-Winged-Gale, immediately regretting opening his beak, was about to say, forget it until Trevor turned to him. “The people who claimed responsibility for the attack are terrorists. Scumbags of the lowest order. They hate everything my country stands for, everything Western Civilization stands for. They despise peace, detests equality, and hates freedom. They would see us either dead or our knees bent to their God. This is what they mean by Jihad,” Trevor speaks to the commander with a forceful conviction that awes Red-Winged-Gale. “But the thing about bending a knee to someone else, is that they first have to make you afraid. Afraid to resist. Afraid to continue living as one has. When we humans are afraid, we tend to sacrifice our freedoms for safety. For the most part anyways. This is especially true when we’ve taken our freedoms for granted. The best way to combat terrorists, is to not be afraid. To continue living as if their actions do nothing. To laugh at them for being stupid. To laugh at their God and spit in their face. You win, by not showing them you fear what could happen. After all, you can’t make someone who doesn’t fear you, bend their knee.” Trevor turns back to his duties, leaving his commander in confusion. Red-Winged-Gale shakes his head and walks out.
Oh my god, you would enter the place, and order your pizza. Then Jim the cashier (it’s written on his pin) would yell at Jim in the kitchens your order. You are already a little confused, but also amazed by such coincidence that they are both called Jim.
Then, a delivery man comes in from a side door. He takes his helmet off and he looks exactly like the cashier. You brush it off, thinking it’s just his twin and that’s all. But then you hear the name Jim, and you turn your head. You overhear them talking to each other and calling each other Jim. Then you see the Jim at the kitchens coming into the room with your pizza and he’s got the exact same face as the previous two.
You wonder where you really are cause if these three people are called Jim and have all the same faces…
You might have wandered into another world where the Jims are the only people there, and all look the same – Mod Lily
Hello again~! I got a request for a story where the Reader meets Dapper (that’s what I’m gonna call him from now on) and introduces him to the other egos and teaches him sign language and all that….although Anti just becomes a huge jerk to the poor mute boi >:v
NASA: we used to have 9 planets but we now only have 8 Pluto: Stop telling everyone I’m not a planet! NASA: Sometimes we can still hear its voice
Look, I’m not saying that demoting a planet named after the Roman god of Death stoked his rage and brought down on us his vengeful fury and retribution but…
Title: Fallen Angel, Chapter 1: Old Friends Reunite
Fandom: Markiplier (Who Killed Markiplier)
Pairing: Hinted Damien x Fem!Reader [which will probably be explored in greater detail later]
Word count: 4, 304
Tagging: @markired – just thought you might like to see it!!
A/N: If there’s any fics you’d like me to write, or headcanons you’d like me to write, let me know! I’m looking to practice writing more!
Snippet:
Your hand went over your mouth, but not before you turned and vomited, adjacent to Mark, falling to your knees. You couldn’t even scream—all you could do was tremble. Footsteps echoed from the hallway outside, near where you had just come through, and you heard the detective. “Did anyone hear that lightning? Oh, my God! There’s been a murder!” As soon as he said the word ‘murder,’ however, another thunderclap echoed outside, a bright flash of lightning illuminating the window. You were still on your knees, a hand over your mouth.
Imagine going to a party and the white suburban stay at home mom with two overachiever kids and white dad who barbeques but doesn’t know how to barbeque and yet is always surrounded by other white Dads who compliment his barbqeuing even though they’re just store bought preshaped frozen patties from Ralph’s or Food 4 Less and while he’s cooking those the white mom comes out and says “okay kids, here’s some pizza!” And she pulls this out and starts telling the kids why its a “fun pizza” and then cries in her master bedroom when no one likes it or finishes it and the white dad is then consoling her why she sobs that she’s a terrible mother and ruined her fourth grade straight B+ sons birthday and thinks her kids hate her but they don’t care but she continues crying softly into her pillow while the children eat poorly cooked burgers with unmelted kraft singles and too much mayonnaise and the only other condiments are two pickles and pepper because the dad calls it his special burger with a secret spice but the spice was just pepper and the kids just keep playing E rated games on their Nintendo Wii while the 17 year old older sister starts cleaning the tragedy up and throwing away uneaten “fun pizza” and whole burgers dejected from the start while she dials Pizza Hut to get these kids an actual birthday lunch and the mother then throws a fit because the daughter did something the kids liked and she didn’t and was the only one making a huge deal out of it and the daughter was then grounded from her TV in her room for only two days and the son went to blow out the candles in his standard birthday cake from food 4 less the mom added strawberries to so she could feel she did something but was still slightly teary and sad because her day was ruined by no one wanting to eat her “fun pizza”
When I was in high school they told me I wouldn’t succeed and I’d never make it. I almost gave up. Now? I’m 19 and I just got 30 likes on a tumblr post.
