(Yeah! US Is Cool! I Think It’s Cool That There’s So Many States) Hm That’s Cool! Do You Prefer

i’m incredibly impressed by this

also, isn’t this what our plan looks like in mark’s bag?

I posted this on my twitter but, I spent about three hours late last night making this monstrous thing, so please enjoy. It should have every single path and ending you could get in A Heist With Markiplier. I may add all of A Date With Markiplier later on @markiplier

Last Words. (Dean Imagine)

(A/N: THIS IS AN END OF S11 FIC. Technically, the oneshot itself has no spoilers...I think. But just so you understand the context, this takes place the night before the end of the season finale. I apologize in advance for the ensuing tears.)

Pairing: Dean/reader

Rating: PG13 for sadness

Dean sat down on his bed, laptop open in front of him, a blank document staring back expectantly. He sipped his beer, and set it on the nightstand, sighing heavily.

She would find it after everything was over. He'd print it up, seal it in an envelope, give it to Cas, ask him to give it to her when he was gone. When they were safe.

"Let's get this over with."

Dear (Y/N),

He deleted it.

(Y/N),

He deleted it.

To my girl.

Here we are again. End of the line. The world's going out tomorrow unless the Winchesters step up, right? Tomorrow night, I'll probably be dead, and in the Void.

How many times have we been here? Too many. This time, though, I'm pretty certain I'm not getting out of it. This time, it really is the end of the line. Everybody off.

So I thought I should leave something behind. Kind of a will, but not really because legally I don't exist anymore. Sort of a...goodbye. You know I'm not good at them. Soppy crap has never been my thing, but this time...I don't know. It just feels right to go out properly.

Sammy gets my Baby. It's always been that way. Don't let him chuck my music, though, doll. Those cassettes are classics and really valuable, trust me.

You and him keep on at the Batcave. Don't move, you won't be safe if you do. You know that, though. Also, don't let them touch my room, okay? No one but you gets in, babe, promise me. Everyone else would touch my stuff and move it and mess it up, and I swear if you guys break anything I'll pull my damn self out of the void to haunt your asses.

Watch out for Sammy for me. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. And tell him to get a haircut.

Watch out for Cas. Don't let him do anything stupid either. But still mess with him sometimes, too. He's still got a stick up his ass.

Take care of yourself. Move on. Find someone who's actually worth your time now that you're not stuck with me. Just don't be alone, okay? No one should be alone. And don't do anything stupid, either. Don't try to bring me back. I don't want that.

I love you so much, and I don't say it as much as I should. Tell Sam and Cas I love them too, because God knows...well, you know what I mean...I can't say it to their faces. Too much of a chick flick moment. Soppy crap.

But I do love you. All of you. And I hope that I can't miss you in the void, because I know I will if I can. I'll miss you so damn bad.There's no way in hell I can thank any of you enough, or tell you how much you mean to me.

Tell Sammy I'm proud of him, and I'm sorry he never got that normal life he wanted. Tell him he can stop hunting now, if he can find a way out. He deserves that much. Tell him I'm sorry I dragged him back into that crap, and I'm sorry he was born into it all, and I wish more than anything that we'd gotten normal lives dealt to us. But tell him I'm so proud to call him my brother, and I loved every minute we got together.

Tell Cas thank you, for everything he's done, and that I'm so sorry that I brought him down with me. Tell him he's the best friend I ever had, and I didn't deserve anything he did for me. Tell him I'm so damn proud of him, and I hope he can patch things up with Claire, and with at least some of the God squad. Tell him that to me, he's always been a brother. Tell him he's family, and he's earned that place, for what it's worth.

You are so beautiful, and so wonderful, and so strong. I never deserved you, and I don't know why you stayed with me, but I am so damn glad that you did. Thank you for making these last few years so real, and so great, for staying with me through literal hell and high water, for every kiss and every touch and every word you ever said to me. Thank you for being alive and for being mine. Thank you for letting me be yours because you deserved so much better than this washed-up idiotic alcoholic mess.

I love you, (Y/N). My girl. My babe, my doll, my honey, my cherry pie. I love you.

Goodbye.

Dean Winchester.

BITCH MORE WHO KILLED MARKIPLIER LORE I AM SO FUCKING READY

Ah good idea! Thank you! I’m trying to think of what to ask you about headcannon wise hmm do you have any ideas for maybe what the egos do for Christmas?

Aww Christmas Egos!

So I’m thinking that Schneep and Chase get super into it, decorate everything to the nines! the others just kinda deal, are generally chill with the whole Christmas thing. Anti haaates it. XD

Oooh Mark is doing cryptic stuff!!

Wait…

What the fuck

Is that shit???

JAMESON JACKSON!!!!????????? Is that what it says???? I SWEAR TO GOD!!!

@therealjacksepticeye

Okay so I wasn’t super far off with this! That’s nice! I even guessed the encounter with Actor Mark, though I had no idea it was going ot be in that cool of a context. I think instead of it being about the line between life and death, it was more focused on the line between reality and experience, with life and death as an underlying issue. We were lost in a way, but not in the house, not in the literal sense that I expected.

It was amazingly cool to see the spiral into madness from inside Damien’s head. That was something I wasn’t expecting, but I’m so glad about, and that could only have been done with animation. Well done everyone involved!

LAST MINUTE THEORY LET’S GO

Okay, so in the last 90 minutes before the video comes out, let’s discuss what we know so far.

DAMIEN is the story of everyone’s favorite unfortunate mayor POST-Who Killed Markiplier. Now this immediately brings up two questions: Are we following Actor Mark in Damien’s body, Damien in the DA’s body as he becomes Dark, or a combination of the two? My guess is that we’re following Damien, but we’ll encounter Mark, and/or we’ll watch Damien spiral out of control obsessed with finding him.

From what we’ve seen so far, Damien is wandering in the woods. Are we just outside of the House? Are we lost? (I say we because there’s got to be some element of the DA in Dark, which might be why he’s so unsettling.) As seen in the little teaser clip here on tumblr, and in the audio from Twitter, Damien is questioning what to do next, who he is now and why he’s still here. The lines between life and death have blurred for him, but not to the extent that they have for Wil. I think this is going to be what causes him to spiral, this need to finish Actor Mark but not knowing if it’s possible because to them, no death is final.

Final thoughts: I’m in love with the fact that this is an animated project. I’m also curious as to whether we’re going to run into Wil. I’m also also enjoying the pre-premiere chat full of memes and singing.

LET’S GOOOOOOO

Not normally an edits kind of gal, but I can do a decent old time photo, and I loved the video, so why not?

It’s Theory Time Again!

Mark is hinting at us again and it’s interesting and there’s a lot to dissect so in this post I’m just gonna worry about the two pictures he’s posted on tumblr.

So, here on the good old Hell Hole Site, Mark’s dropped some cryptic images:

Image 1:

Image 2:

Source: Mark’s tumblr

THEORIES AND DISCUSSION UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE THERE’S A LOT GOING ON HERE!

Let’s take a look at the first picture, brightened (Turning highlights to 100% and Fill Light to 100%) and with a couple of things pointed out:

So, discussing in order:

No. 1: It clearly says “Kill” next to “Security Mode”. What/Who is getting killed, and what/who is doing the killing? Initially, I was leaning toward it being Mark on the receiving end and Dark/Will doing the deed. I’ll explain why this thought changed later.

No. 2: Where are we? It looks to be the livingroom/den of a large, wealthy estate, given the marble fireplace and generally elegant trimmings of the room. So the castle that they were filming at in “secret” a while ago? If so, why? Why are we seeing this opulent room, and, possibly more importantly, who’s estate is this?

No. 3: What is that on the table? This might be completely unimportant, but it looked out of place to me.

No. 4: “Designation: Little Buddy.” Now, in the past, Mark has always referred to Tiny Box Tim as his Little Biscuit, and his Little Buddy. So what does TBT have to do with this room? Or, alternatively, who is this “little buddy”? Whose “buddy” is it?

Moving on now to the second image, with the same conditions applied as the first:

Again, discussing in order:

No. 1: Again, we have “Little Buddy” as the designation. Is this a code name? If so, for what operation?

No. 2: Who is the figure on the left? As far as I can see, he’s wearing a trench coat and a deerstalker, lending him a Sherlockian image, which could hint at this being a murder mystery. If that’s the case, then this is our detective, but who is he?

No. 3: Who is the figure on the right? It looks like he’s wearing a suit (or possibly a leather jacket, though I’m not sure why he would be), has something over/on his eyes, and has gelled hair. I’m thinking this is possibly the Host back when he was the Author, which implies that we’re getting a backstory on how he became the Host and lost his sight (WHICH I WOULD LOVE). Another possibility is that this is Dark, but, as some other lovely theorizers have pointed out, his hair is not parted toward us, on the left, as is Dark’s signature. The last possibility is that this is someone new, and if that’s the case, I’m not sure what to tell you other than I’m excited.

No. 4: They’re shaking hands, which could mean a couple of things.First, it could mean that these figures are meeting for the first time, but that has a couple of problems that I’ll discuss in a second. Second, it could mean that they’re making some sort of deal, which seems more likely to me, as Right appears to be smiling, as if he’s gotten something good out of it.

No. 5: The date and time. 1;17am. Why are they meeting so early in the morning? This is my main objection to the idea that this is a first meeting, or that these two don’t know each other. Obviously, this has been set up ahead of time. And the date, October 7th, is today. So this meeting happened today, in the early hours of this morning. What would be so urgent that two people (apparent people?) would need to meet behind closed doors (as suggested by the fact that we’re seeing this through blinds, as if the subjects don’t know they’re being photographed) at one in the morning? This suggests some underhanded deal is happening, something sinister.

Given all of the information these two pics give us, I’ve drawn a couple of conclusions:

1. This is a story about The Host.

2. This story is currently happening, in real time with the clues being given.

3. This story is about a deal (Code-named Little Buddy?), possibly a deal gone wrong, that happen to someone in a position of wealth and/or power. Hence, 

4. The Host was once the rich Author, and made some kind of deal that resulted in the loss of his sight/eyes and his siding with/serving Dark.

But again, this is all speculation based on the two images Mark put on tumblr. This doesn’t even take into account the Instagram posts or the twitter video, or the black-outs of the profile pictures on Twitter, Tumblr, and Insta. If you guys want me to look into those, I can do that too in another post. Let me know what you think about these pictures and my theories, I’m super curious! And on top of that, I’m having a great time Sherlocking my way through all these hints, and I’m excited to see what happens next. So until we find out, remember,

THAT’S...JUST A THEORY.

Old (A Tentoo Drabble)

Pairing: Tentoo/Rose mentions

Rating: G

Old. It's amazing how odd that word sounded to him now.

Before, when he'd thought of old, he'd thought of centuries, of planetary histories and the births and deaths of stars and galaxies. He'd thought of an ancient, nearly extinct race, who could live for many thousands of years, each with thirteen faces. He'd thought of how many faces he had left, and how many centuries, and how alone he would be.Old used to terrify him. Now, though, old was different.

Now, he thought of years, of houses and cars, and pictures from a Polaroid camera. He thought of another race, who lived for less than a century on average, each with only one face. He thought of the fact that now he only had one face, and much less than a century left...and someone to spend that time with. Old doesn't scare him as much anymore. The Doctor touched his face. He touched the chin that was covered in morning stubble after not being shaved in three days. He touched the corners of brown eyes he'd grown so used to seeing, suddenly, it seemed, covered in small wrinkles. He touched brown, spikey hair that was just beginning to grey.And he marveled at it.

Fifty years ago, this hadn't even been a possibility for him. Thirty-five years ago, it'd been an aching, impossible fantasy. Thirty years ago, it'd become a terrifying and strange new reality. Now, he looked at himself in fond awe once again.He was getting old. He, the Doctor, Last of the Time Lords, 900 year old alien, was finally getting old. And he was happy about it.

Someone knocked on the open bathroom door. He looked over to see a brown haired woman leaning against its frame, arms crossed over a blue pajama top. She smiled at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Morning. Why're you starin' at yourself?"

He smiled and raised an eyebrow right back.

"Morning. I'm just appreciating how handsome I am."

"No you're not," she laughed, "You were touching your wrinkly eyes. You're thinkin' about how old you're getting."

He scowled playfully. "I am not!"

"Are too!" she grinned, walking over and hugging him. He sighed, looking back at the mirror and putting an arm around her. "Are to," he conceded.

The woman looked up at him thoughtfully."It still amazes you, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes. I think it always will."

They stood there for a minute, looking in the mirror, before she finally patted his shoulder and gestured at his striped pajamas."C'mon, get dressed. You promised we could show Martha and David a new planet today."

He sighed again, smiling into it. "I did, didn't I? Alright." He stepped back from her and walked to the wardrobe in the adjacent bedroom, pulling out a familiar blue set of garments. "Old suit good enough for it, Deej?"

"Always, Dad," she said fondly, and with a last chuckle left the room to find her kids and make sure they were ready.

Another woman appeared at the door and smiled. This one was blonde, with little wrinkles around her eyes, too (that he of course never mentioned).

"Hello."

"Hello."

Rose came in and gave him a little kiss.

The Doctor took his wife's hand, like he always had, and always would, and went off to find the rest of his greatest adventure, and show them a new planet. Just like he'd promised.

Just like it should be.

Packing

Pairing: Ten/Rose, unrequited!Tentoo/Rose

Rating: PG for strong angst

He pulled open a drawer.

Ties. This was where he kept the ties. Browns and blues mostly. Some in shades of red. He took a few of those, and one of his favorite brown silk ones.

He opened one of the cupboards.

Converse, stacked up high on the shelves. He took a pair of the reds, a pair of the whites, a pair of the blacks.

He walked to another part of the wardrobe and looked through a rack until he found what he was looking for. A long brown coat, not the same one, not perfect, but as close as he was going to get, and he didn't have time to be picky. He shoved it awkwardly into his pocket.

He left the wardrobe, feeling numb. Never in his long life had he been faced with this reality. Never would he have expected it. Now that he didn't have much time left here, he was starting to panic.

Not about not having a ship, he knew he would be taking a piece of the coral with him, even he couldn't be that cruel, so that wasn't gone forever. But about not having this ship.

He'd never see Susan's room again. Or Ace's. Or Sarah Jane's. He'd never see any of Romana's books again, or any of Adric's formula sheets. He'd never see Martha's extra jacket, or Donna's sketchbook full of shorthand notes, caricatures, and tic tak toe.

He skulked out, toward the console room, and stopped just before he entered.

He peeked in.

They were in there. And they were talking. And she was smiling.

Her smile was so beautiful. Her eyes crinkled at the edges, and her tongue poked cutely out between her teeth. How many times had he been temped to forget whatever little adventure they'd been on when he'd seen that smile, to just forget every limitation and kiss her, to tell her how much he loved her against that smile.

She laughed at something he said.

It hurt, physically, to see them talking, see her smile, hear her laugh. He knew he wouldn't be hearing it much longer. Why would she choose him? His hand snaked up to feel the single heartbeat in his chest, the constant reminder that he wasn't the real him. That no matter what his mind said, no matter what memories and feelings he had, no matter what he looked like, he was just a copy. A fake. A poor recreation. He was going to age, and die. And he'd be doing it alone.

But wasn't he used to alone? Wasn't he used to the universe teasing him with the chance of happiness and just when it seemed like he'd always have a hand to hold, taking it away from him? That didn't make it any easier.

He scowled in the empty corridor. Nine hundred years, all to end up dying as a human, in the wrong universe, alone. Maybe it was exactly what he deserved.

He said something, and she agreed, and they moved toward the hallway. He ducked quickly into an alcove and stayed there until they passed. Then he hurried out into the console room and over to a side panel on the central pillar. He flipped a few switches, tapped the screen a few times, and turned a few dials before pressing one last button and waiting. A few seconds of whirring later, a sonic screwdriver plopped into the little slot at the bottom of the panel, and he picked it up and tucked it into his pocket. He moved over to another panel and smacked it a little too violently. A drawer popped out, and he picked up the extra psychic paper and put it in his pocket as well. He spotted a picture of Susan, and, heart wrenching alienly, took that as well. Then he shut the drawer and looked up, just staring around the room he'd called home for seven hundred years.

His teeth clenched and his hands gripped the coral edging tightly as he suddenly fought back a sob.

It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair. He could be so much more than this. And maybe he would be. But this him, this counterfeit, never would. Was this his punishment for all that he'd done? By all rights, it hadn't even been him! Why make him conscious? Why make him share the same mind?

Why hadn't he just changed?

Someone coughed. He didn't need to look up.

The other him walked slowly back into the room. He stared at him for a minute with a look of mixed pity, sorrow, and guilty fascination. It was sickening.

He looked up, and their eyes met. By the way the Doctor winced, he could tell that he knew exactly how he felt. Something flashed in his eyes as well...regret? Pain?

Whatever it was, it felt almost perverse.

Then he coughed again, and spoke, softly.

"I haven't told her what you are yet. Not about..." he tapped his chest. "I'll leave that to you."

"Thanks," he said acidly.

The Doctor rubbed his neck awkwardly, almost ashamedly, then grabbed his jacket off the jumpseat and shuffled out of the room.

"Take whatever you need," he said over his shoulder as he went back to Rose.

He very nearly slammed his fist into the console. His hand was raised and clenched when Donna came in.

"Don't you dare, Spaceman."

His hand dropped limply to his side as he turned to look at her.

Without another word, she walked up and threw her arms tight around him. He hugged back.

Neither commented on the oddness of only two hearts beating between them.

After a minute, she pulled away from him, handing him a small book. He recognized it as her most recent sketchbook. Gripping it tightly, he met her eyes, and, almost ashamed of how desperate he sounded, blurted, "You can't come with me?"

"No," she sighed, patting his arm, "I've got to stay. For Mum and Gramps. You know that."

"I know."

She hugged him again, briefly, before walking off down the hall, presumably to find the other one and Rose. He almost smiled. Donna would have liked to get to know Rose. His almost smile turned into another almost sob, but he held his composure. He would not lose it until he was truly alone, he promised himself. He wouldn't let them see him break. He couldn't do that to Rose, or to Donna. He supposed he couldn't even do that to himself.

The TARDIS landed with a loud groan and a dull thud. He glanced at the screen. A beach appeared on it, the beach he hated more than almost anything in the entire universe.

His single heart was beating out the word that had started it all, and would end it all, for him.

Run.