Whether or not JJ is involved in this, I’m super excited to see what Wil and the Detective have been up to. This is gonna be a fun ride. Probably full of feels.
Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: G
Light. Blinding, painful light. Burning through every part of him, he can feel it. In his hands, his face, his body, a burning. He's shrinking, stretching, compressing, every proportion changing, and burning.But he's seen it all, done it all before. He's old, impossibly old. But he's also new, untested, young. He's seen everything and nothing, knows everything and nothing, met a million people and not even one.Suddenly, the light is over, and he stumbles, adjusting quickly to a new body. Difficult to move, to balance. He pulls air into new lungs, his first breath. New eyes search across the room, taking in the familiar unfamiliar place all over again. But something's different this time.
There's a girl, small and blond, in a pink jacket, staring at him with wide hazel eyes. She's frightened, and shocked, and tired...and the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. She's his Rose, and he died for her, he remembers suddenly. He died to save her because...This mind acknowledges the feeling, at least to itself. That's different...He likes it. Anyway...he cares about her. He cares so much about her, and she's alright. Good. Job well done then.
Wait, wait, wait, he was in the middle of something. What was he doing?
He was saying something. They were going to go somewhere. OH! But he ought to introduce himself again, as he's changed, even if he doesn't quite know who "himself" is yet. He could be anyone now. What what he like? All he knows right now is the Rose, Rose Tyler, is so important, and he ought to introduce himself.What if she doesn't like him anymore? The thought occurs to him suddenly. He's changed. What if she hates him now?
What is that little feeling? In the pit of his stomach? Is he...nervous? That's different. Nervous. Alright.
Say something! Alright.
"Hello. Alright-oh."He feels around his new mouth. It felt awkward, less room."New teeth, that's weird. Anyway, where were we?"
Dogs. No noses. The planet, not the city.
"Oh yes!"
His first grin with this face, and it's for her, all wide and cheeky, teeth and tongue. He hopes she likes it.
"Barcelona!"
@ask-thewhiphand tagged me, thanks love!
Rules: tag 9 people who you would like know better.
Relationship status: Single as hell, but pretty much okay with it. :)
Last song I listened to: Carry On Wayward Son by Kansas, and before that, probably Break Your Little Heart In Two by All Time Low
Favorite color: RED. Very much red.
Top three shows: Supernatural, Doctor Who, and Sherlock. Yes, I know, typical, but I love them. I watch more YouTube than TV though, and on here I love Scare Pewds, Game Lab, and Crash Course.
Top three characters: Oh dear lord...ah, right this second...probably...Asriel/Flowey (Undertale), the Tenth Doctor (DW), and Antisepticeye (JSE). I don't know! I love so many characters!
Top three ships: Johnlock, Tenrose, and Undyne/Alphys.
Tagging: @bookwyrm00, @super-septic-pewdie-plier, @lyssadee, @quirkyfandomimagines, @turquoisemagpie, @stupidscreennames, @jacksepticide, @alto-viola, @victoria-saenz
I support this theory! Ties the two together very well, I think.
The thing we’ve all been connecting to Who Killed Markiplier is Darkiplier in A Date with Markiplier. But there’s one big detail we’re all missing-
The Meta Ending
When you say “Yes” to Mark’s proposal, it’s revealed that this is actually all part of a production. That you’re all actors. Even Mark.
Turns out, actor Mark is an asshole. A selfish, conceited asshole.
And he also used to be well-known. A star. We know another asshole actor, one who was rich and famous.
So is Meta Ending Mark WKM Mark? If he is, it brings more meaning to “FREEDOM!”, a video that follows the “PAY” path, but diverges when you make your decision to watch the Horror play.
Dark says Mark is a, “Bad man and does bad things to good people.” It’s so important to note that Dark hadn’t told a single lie. He never said he was Mark. He said that Mark was bad, that he needed to die, that he was a liar, yes, but if he was talking about WKM Mark, it would all be true. He also said that Mark was Dark, which isn’t a lie either looking at Mark’s limerick.
ohhhhhh nOW THIS MAKES SENSE!!
SOME OF THESE ARE WILFORD’S ALIASES!
It just doesn’t add up…
“And I will see all you dudes...IN THE NEXT VIDEO!”
You laughed as the outro music started playing, dropping your arms and rubbing your throat. How does Jack do that every day? God, his vocal cords must hate him. Flicking through the comments, it made you grin to see so many people chatting about the game, a few people yelling the catchphrases. There were even a few good puns this time, that was nice. You were staying for the outro clip again, lately having gotten into the habit of staying just a little longer, out of some slightly silly hope. You commented on every video now, sliding subtle references to your adventures into every one, hoping that Jack would see it. Even if you knew you couldn’t reply, it was nice to think that Jack was in his room, seeing your words in the code and thinking of you fondly. “That was another good one, Jack. Though I must say, that shark’s getting the better of you. Your raft’s gonna need to step it up, man,” you rambled absently as you flicked to another tab to finish a fanfic you were writing. After all, that adventure was too good not to be told, wasn’t it? And you thought it might entertain Jack to see it written up. You wondered if he’d show Mark.
“Really now? Three stories of raft isn’t good enough for you?! It’s fantastic!”
You flicked back to the video so fast you almost closed it out by mistake. “Jack?” He grinned in surprise, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. “Hey!” You couldn’t help but smile back.
Soooo apparently the JSE Discord (which I am not part of bc I don’t do huge discords) got an interesting drop today.
(Image curtesy of various discord dwellers)
So just going off of immediate vibes, it feels very Chase. It’s got those high-quality story vibes, like there’s definitely more to this picture than there seems. I brightened it up to get a better look.
Much better! So I did what I did with the WKM stuff ages ago, and made talking points.
1. Soooo we’re indoors. In a studio space? Lit only by candlelight, which could mean some kind of spooky happenings.
2. There are symbols on the book that I can’t quite make out. The one on the farthest right looks like a Sam, possibly. The furthest left looks like maybe a person? But these could also just be random runes to make it look magic, which means that it’s probably supposed to be a spellbook. If that’s true...
3. Then this is a crystal ball. It’s weird, made of something silver rather than a clear material, so it coul be something else, but the composition of the image makes it look like the book and the ball are associated, and usually, that means magic.
And where there’s magic...
There’s Marvin.
I think we know who’s turn it is to take the spotlight this Halloween.
A note: If there’s no ego content, and it’s just a cool magic-y video, I am equally as excited and ready to watch whatever Sean’s working on. I just like being extra about fandom nonsense.
OKAY BUT VIRGIL’S MAKEUP GOES BRIGHT PURPLE WHEN HE’S HAPPY IS EXACTLY THE KIND OF STORYTELLING DETAIL THAT I NEEDED.
FUCK I LOVE THAT VIDEO.
Guys, it’s been a long road, and we’re not even close to done yet. But based on all the previous evidence, I’ve come up with something of a story line/theory. I present to you, good people of the internet and the Markiplier fandom, who I think killed Markiplier:
THE PAST
Mark, the Colonel, and Damien were all childhood friends. Mark and Damien started with the same social status, very middle class, but the Colonel comes from an old military family with lots of money and power, which is why he inherits the manor. They stayed friends as they grew older and gained status, Damien through politics, the Colonel through the army, and Mark through the entertainment industry, though to keep himself afloat, he moves in with the Colonel. (Based on the pictures, "I will not be called a murderer in my own home!", and the Colonel's initial theory.)
At some point, they were introduced to Celine, and she became fast friends with them all. They all developed feelings for her, and tried to impress her in various ways, but Mark went the farthest. Unbeknownst to any of them, he made a deal with a larger force for her heart, which angered both Damien and the Colonel. But while Damien wanted to keep his friendships in tact, the Colonel, always the most firey of the three, had a massive argument with Mark, insisting that the fame had gone to his head. Mark wouldn't explain the deal, and so the fight gets so bad that the Colonel is kicked out of his own home by Mark, who's now under the force's influence, and drops out of touch with Mark and Celine. Damien can't pick a side, so stays in touch with both of them. (Based on George the Groundskeeper’s speech about why he won’t enter the manor, the Possession, the Colonel and Damien's argument, and the pictures.)
It was shortly after this that Celine and Damien discovered what Mark had done. Damien wanted to keep it quiet, per his aspirations for office and the bad publicity it would cause both him and Mark, but Celine was disgusted, and left them both to find answers on her own. Damien and Mark stayed friends, but were more distant than they had been. This is where we come in. We befriend Damien and Mark sometime after all of this, and are never told about it. Damien rises to the position of Mayor, Mark grows more famous, and we're appointed DA. (Based on our invitation, our not knowing the Colonel previously, "I don't need anyone's help, especially yours," Celine's occult interests and Damien's reactions to them, and the pictures.)
THE PRESENT
Now the deal Mark made had to have some provisions. Maybe one of them was a time constraint. He had 15 years to enjoy his fame, and then the being would come to collect his end of the bargain, and maybe Mark didn't know what the reprocussions would be. When the day was coming up, however, Mark knew he wanted to see all of his friends one last time, so he invited them back to the manor, on the pretext of a poker night. Celine refused, but had a bad feeling about it, and too late decided to come and warn her old friends. Damien of course accepted, and managed to convince the Colonel to come back. We accepted, thinking nothing of it. Mark also invites the Detective, less as a friend, though he was one, albeit not as close, but more as a precaution, needing to know that his staff was trustworthy and wouldn't be suspected, no matter what, and knowing that there would likely be some kind of crime to investigate later, when he either died or disappeared. (Based on the Detective's speech about knowing Mark, the security footage, "I might be dead tomorrow," Celine knowing the party is happening, the Colonel appearing voluntarily and in a decent mood.)
In the night, after all the festivities are over, everyone goes to bed, except for the Colonel, who's still mad as hell, and very drunk, and very vulnerable. The Force strikes, using the Colonel as a vessel, and fights with and eventually kills Mark, then goes dormant. It stays in him until it's summoned out by Celine the next night. (Based on the party montage, the finding of the body, the Colonel's behavior in Chapter 2, and the Possession.)
But remember guys, this is just a theory. It’s not set in stone, and it doesn’t explain everything. I would love to hear what you guys think, and what I might have missed, and I can’t wait for Chapter 4 tomorrow.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Extras: The Bedroom The Audio Clip The Tumblr Teasers (1, 2, 3, 4)
Mark’s done it again! A new hint pic has dropped!
Source: Mark’s Tumblr
Previous post here.
So again, brightened and with things pointed out:
Let’s talk.
No. 1: Where are we now? Looks like we’re in the same house, but perhaps in the kitchen, or, more specifically, on the stairs leading into the kitchen (Note the banister in the bottom right). Seems that at the bottom of the stairs is a table or a desk, with papers on it and something else that I can’t make out. Why are we seeing this location? Is this going to be something like Clue, with multiple locations and a mystery to solve? (If so, YES PLEASE)
No. 2: “Kill” is back, fainter this time. Noting the security style, some people have theorized that we’re going to get something like a Five Nights At Markiplier’s, which while a cool idea, I don’t think is happening. No, I think this is more likely a hint at Google being involved.
No. 3: “Little Buddy.” This is still puzzling to me. Why name it “Little Buddy”? Who is the buddy?
No. 4: The timestamp. Again, this is happening in real time, so this was the early hours of this morning, the eighth, again at 1 am. Why 1 am? Just for a late hour? Or is this a hint? If so, to what?
I am loving this. Let me know what you guys are thinking! What else have you noticed about this pic, and the others? What about the new facebook blackout? What do you think the letters on instagram mean? And do you want me to put together a cohesive theory? There are so many unanswered questions!
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.
Just a writer obsessed with her characters, from Supernatural and Sherlock to the Dark Side of Youtube. Your source for the Egos of Jacksepticeye and Markiplier, theories thereon, and random oneshots and short series. I take requests!
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