Through The Looking Glass

Probably. I wouldn’t be surprised.

Are these all the demons that Jim and Jim summoned

Ah thank you! I couldn’t read it!

COUNTY OF LOS ANGELES SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT COURT SERVICES DIVISION

NOTICE TO VACATE CASE NUMBER: 14052018

TO: Judgement debtor, members of the judgement debtors’s household, and any occupants residing with the judgement debtor.

By virtue of a Writ if Possession of Real Property, a copy of which is attached. YOU ARE ORDERED TO VACATE THE PREMISES DESCRIBED IN THE WRIT NOT LATER THAN: September, 2019.

SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT INGLEWOOD, CA. 90301

By: ??? (Deputy)

Date: 08/11/2019

76N054E SH-C1-52 (REV. 9/94)

NOTICE TO VACATE

THIS IS NOT MINE. This is a Creepypasta I’ve heard a thousand times and don’t know the original owner of, but I love it dearly, it’s terrifying. You should look for the Jacksepticeye reading of it, that got me good the first time I heard it.

(Tiny lil drabble bc excited and this art is cool.)

The figure at the computer smiled as the door opened, not bothering to look over his shoulder as he spoke, swiping a hand up to scroll through the mess of posts floating in the air in front of him. “The tag is absolutely consumed, with production of new material at a staggering rate. I won’t bore you with numbers, but they’ve responded exactly as predicted.” “Of course they have,” the voice behind him said. “You’ve made quite a mess of their little...community. I must say, I’m impressed.” “It was your plan. I am simply the executor.” There was a rare, surprised huff of laughter. “Was that a play on words?” “Don’t tell Wilford,” Google said seriously, finally turning to look at Dark, who chuckled quietly. “Your secret is safe with me.” He took a few steps closer, dropping a monochrome hand on the android’s shoulder. “And again, well done. You’ve been a useful program.” “I live to serve.” “And the others?” “In position.” “Then we have only to wait.” His eyes narrowed, the faint smile on his face growing slightly as he scanned the screen.

“Who killed Markiplier, indeed?”

well… who was it…?

Okay I’ve just watched the end of the video. I’m a transcriptionist, so I thought I’d give a try at actually just transcribing what I hear as I hear it, then work it out from there. So I did that twice with the clip between “If you liked this video, then-” and it cutting to black with “END” scrolling by.

Transcription 1: fros nes fa amniverands folet esanafram re estoaman

Now like I said, I just transcribed exactly what I heard, playing it at half speed to make sure I got everything. I noticed that a couple of these distinct phrases sounded like words, so I made some guesses as to what those words were. I tried reversing it to see if it made more sense that way, but no dice.

amniverands = “anniversary”?

esanafram = “is in a frame”?

Transcription 2: frosnisfa amiverands folet esamafram festoamand

Again, I tried to write down what I heard, but this time I didn’t stope the audio at all and just wrote as it played (again, at half speed), and got fairly similar results. However, I heard the ending differently playing it all at once, and so my guess changed for what it meant.

festoamand = phase two as planned?

Is this calling back to Quit The Game To Win? “Now we start Phase 2″? What do you think, guys?

Visitor Pt. 3

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

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

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

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

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

Mini Theory/Observation

So we all know Mark’s profile pictures have been blacking out, right? And today, we lost YouTube to the darkness.

But some eagle eyed fans decided to investigate this pic, and they found:

That there’s a face, and in some of the better image brightening/inversions, people noticed

That face is this image. Mark’s old profile picture, from his original channel.

So what’s the significance here? I can only guess that it means that we’re going to see something/someone that’s classically Mark. Maybe it’s another hint at old horror games being the theme, like in the latest photo.

Henlo this gave me ideas.

-

His voice was much croakier than it used to be. It was at the same time far too low, and just right. It was raspy and rough from disuse, or from strain, because all he ever did now was scream.

“Let’s go in the garden, you’ll find something waiting, Right there where you left it, lying upside down...”

He discovered that the old song’s lyrics were still stuck somewhere in his mind, and when he tried to pin down where it came from, he came up with an odd mix of faded memories; he was playing an acoustic guitar on the patio, badly, and his best friend was laughing and calling him a sap; she was dancing with the man she should never have fallen for, and he was singing in her ear, in the dark, far away from all the trouble that seemed to follow them constantly.

Most of the time, when he remembered them, the names he’d once owned and the faces that went with them, it would hurt. It would burn every fiber of his being until nothing remained but fury and hatred. He would be himself and no one at once, and it would tear him to pieces over and over again.

But today...

Today, he was just...sad. Not in pain. Not furious. Just sad. He was a boy who wanted to make his great city proud of him. She was a girl caught up in romance, with a ring on her finger and a rose in her room.

And in the hands of an old friend who’d just wanted to hear everyone laugh, and see justice served, was an old, nearly illegible ribbon, grey where it had once been black. They’d given it to him the night of the election,a joke then, but less so than the cruel one it had become.

“In little ways, Everything...stays...”

The voice that was all three of theirs, and no one’s, trailed off and went quiet. For once, his world was quiet.

FUCK this will never not hurt.

ohh....OH NO.

I NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT DARK BEING ABLE TO READ MINDS TOO.

OH GOD.

ALRIGHT THEORISTS

LET’S GET CRACKING ON THIS VIDEO

1. The audio was weird. There were little cracks and glitches. The first one I noticed was at 10:38. We should probably check the audio files

2. 10:38 ALSO HAD A VISUAL GLITCH. I played it over many times to double-check and that was definitely placed there intentionally.

3. We shouldn’t worry too much about the train from the future thing – it’s a reference to Murder on the Orient Express (as confirmed by when Wilford says “we all did it”) – but it IS important to know that Wilford seems to have been time traveling!

4. “If you were Celiene you’d probably carve my heart out” – does that mean Will knows about Darkiplier? Have they had a run-in? 

5. TELEPATHY? WHAT.

6. TELEPORTATION? is this and #5 just part of the fucked timelines?

7. Are the masked people at the end really…there? Are they real people Will has gathered somehow? or is it another one of his weird glitches?

8. On that note, the blood from when he was shot in the heart? Dripping down his shirt? Is Will just magic?

9. It seems like the Detective wasn’t having any trouble remembering things until the audio glitches started. Did Will do something to influence that or does the house still have control over both of them?

10. Between the cut from the car scene to the office, Wilford was still shouting, and given that time is fucky here, I wouldn’t be surprised if time actually jumped there?

11. SHIT DOES THIS MEAN DARKIPLIER CAN READ MINDS TOO OH GOD

I’m about to go frame-by-frame, I’ll add more as it comes up.

i love this as a theory! it makes a lot of sense, too. i like the idea that he didn’t intend to blend all of these stories, and that there was supposed to be a linear way to go through, but everything got jumbled together.

I WAS ABOUT TO FALL ASLEEP BUT I JUST HAD A REVELATION

WHAT IF THE REASON WHY EVERYTIME A NEW EGO APPEARS IN THE HEIST, HEIST MARK HAS TO DIE SO ACTOR CAN SWAP ROLES--

He is, an actor after all. Considering that we've already pretty much gotten confirmation on the Markiplier = Actor Mark theory, and Mark does all the other characters himself irl, who says that Actor can't????

On top of that, this only happens in AHWM. In WKM, of course none of the characters have to spontaneously die in order for another to appear. In their original reality, they were seperate people.

But in AHWM, if this is TRULY Actor's game, it's possible this is the only way how to portray different characters and still be the "main character" or center of attention.

(i mean, he might, but its almost 3am im not gonna check, if i contradict anything canon pls tell me)

Another possible explaination is when all the timelines got messed up due to the artifact, all of Actor's stories, in whatevrr strange house wousey upside down he makes them in-- where of course, he plays the lead get intertwined?

A pirate who sails the sea for treasure, A noble heartbreaker adventurer, a remorseful prisoner

These are all stories that more or less focus on ONE Person. One person and the things they do.

And adding onto that, Dark and Wilford don't chase off Actor in some way. Dark simply transitions to a hallway after Actor just, vanishes

and Wilford shows up after you rewind.

Will update in a couple hours, apologies if this is bad or incoherent or stretching it, i am tired and gay and its very late i should be sleep i might do that rn thank u byeee