This.

I was there.

For the whole year, I was there. I watched every video as it came out, every single day.

I was there.

I was there as the timer counted down to zero. I counted it down outloud in the last five seconds.

I watched the screen turn black.

I watched the chat slow to a stop.

I watched the failure to load the channel.

I watched it disappear from my subscription box.

I was there.

I am here.

Memento Mori.

Hey guys?

Here’s my idea about the ending of today’s video: Jack’s supposed to have been in a coma right? According to Chase. So...

What if we’re seeing what Jack saw in his coma?

wilford: i have made robot me: you fucked up a perfectly good wilford is what you did. look at it. it’s got overwhelming guilt and remorse for its actions

Ohhh you can see some of the room!! So yes, this is either a train car or an entrance hall, and again, I’m leaning toward train car.

Btw, here’s my own edit of the clip all brightened up. If you can gleam anything from it, feel free to use it

Coffee and a Chat. (Ninth Doctor Imagine)

Pairing: None, Nine/Rose if you squint real hard

Rating: G

It was raining. Again.

Though, of course, this was London, so it wasn't like you'd expected today to be sunny. But all the same, it was a dreary, grey, rainy September day.

And it was your birthday. A horrid one, at that.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, putting a hand under your chin and moodily sipping your coffee, brooding on the day's events. First, you'd woken up twenty minutes late for school, then, when you got there, not one person had remembered your birthday at all. Then your favorite book had been stolen from your bag, only for you to find it later, food-stained and ruined, in the school cafeteria. After school, when you were supposed to be meeting your friends to go out to celebrate, you'd been stood up.

And now it was raining. Great.

"Lovely day, isn't it?"

You blinked and looked away from the window, up at the owner of the voice. A tall man with close cropped hair (and rather large ears, though you'd never say) smiled down at you and plopped himself into the seat across the table. You smiled back politely.

"If you like rain, I suppose." You turned your head back to the window, hoping he would leave.

"I like it myself, but I s'pose some don't. Don't understand why. Rain's so refreshing! It clears up all the dust and the smog and the car fumes and things, and it sounds pleasant, and it's fun to run in if you do it right." Clearly not. You refrained from sighing again, and instead raised an eyebrow and turned to look at the stranger in more detail.

He looked older, but not old. Mature, perhaps. As if you couldn't put an age on him at all. He wore boots, dark jeans and a dark green jumper, over which he had on a well-worn leather jacket. Overall, he looked as if he could be a workman of some description, or perhaps a traveler. Based on his way of talking, you assumed he was from somewhere in the North of England, and that it wasn't the first time he'd sat down to chat with a stranger, and that he saw nothing at all wrong with it. But he didn't seem dangerous, and actually the way he described the rain made it sound a bit fun. So you decided not to boot him from his seat immediately.

You put your coffee back on the table. "Well, when you put it that way, it doesn't sound nearly as bad."

"Oh, there's always a way of makin' things not sound so bad," he smiled, resting his elbows on the table. You mirrored him.

"What's your name?"

"(Y/N)."

He nodded approvingly. "'S a good name, I like it." You laughed a little.

"Thanks, I've had it since I was born." That made him chuckle.

"And what's yours?"

"I'm the Doctor." You blinked.

"The Doctor?"

"Yeah."

"That's your name."

"Yeah. Problem?" He said, amused, as if he'd had the same problem a thousand times.

You laughed. "Yeah, problem is that's not a name."

"It's what people call me!"

"But no one just calls people 'Doctor'!" you insisted with a grin, "People call each other by their titles and their names!"

"Your people do, but not everyone does."

That caught you off guard. "What d'you mean, 'your people'?"

He seemed to catch himself in a mistake. "I mean, you lot."

"Right, yeah, that clears it up." He shook his head happily.

"I just mean that other places, it's fine when I call myself that. No one asks any questions, they just call me as I tell them."

"Well," you picked up your drink again, "for normal people, there're titles and names together. So, Doctor who?" You toasted your drink mockingly and took a sip from the cooling coffee.

For some reason, "the Doctor's" smile brightened and he chuckled to himself.

"What did I say that was so funny?"

"Nothin', nothin'. It's just I get asked that a lot." He tilted his chin up, thinking. "You ever think, if someone made a book or a movie or sommit about you, what they'd call it? I reckon they'd call mine 'Doctor Who'."

"I don't know that anyone would be interested enough in my boring old life to make a movie."

The throwaway comment made the Doctor blink and frown a little. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, I'm nothing special, is all." He shook his head and leaned forward a little.

"(Y/N), just your existing makes you special. Think of all the coincidences that led to you being here, today, right now. One atom had to hit another just right to cause a huge explosion. One rock had to get just big enough and be just far enough from this sun to support a few little puny shrubs and some fish, that had to survive long enough to evolve into apes, that had to get smart enough and lucky enough to evolve into people. And two of those people fought the odds of meeting each other, a one in a few billion chance, to come together and cause you to live on a little soggy island and sit here today chatting to me. You're made of stardust and happy chance, and if that doesn't make you special, then I dunno what does."

Before you could really even process what he just said, and close your gaping mouth, the bell over the cafe door tinkled, and the Doctor looked up to smile at someone. You glanced over your shoulder to see a pretty blonde girl motioning to him to come with her, apparently a bit panicked.

You turned back to see him standing, and blurted, "D'you have to go, Doctor?" You really didn't want him to. For some reason, it felt like you'd be saying goodbye to a good friend.

He smiled again and stuffed his hands in the pockets of that worn leather jacket. "Oh, I never stay in one place too long, (Y/N). And apparently," he nodded to the door with an amused smirk, "it's a bit urgent." He walked up beside you and put a hand on your shoulder. You put your hand over his.

"Do you do this all the time?"

"Have coffee with strangers?"

"No," you smiled, your voice oddly a little choked, "say amazing things to strangers and then just leave."

"Oh, that. Yeah. Yeah, I do." He winked and pulled a package, which looked much too big to fit, from his pocket and set it on the table beside you. "Happy Birthday, by the way, (Y/N)."

And with that, he was gone. You watched him meet up with the girl and walk down the street with her, your eyes not leaving him until they lost him around a corner.

An odd sound echoed through the street, and you frowned. Somehow, you knew it had to do with him. You picked up the package and opened it carefully.

It was a copy of your favorite book, first edition, autographed, and with a tiny note inside that only read, in cramped quick handwriting, "Hell of a time finding this and getting it sighed, you know. See you someday."

Transcription of file 4nt1.aud October 22, 2016. 6:42pm. Location undisclosed.

[Start recording]

State your name for the record, please.

Helena [Name withheld for privacy]. I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?

No, no, Helena. Can I call you Helena?

Sure, I guess.

We've heard that you're quite the expert on certain recent...developments, in the online community.

What do you mean?

Could you tell us what you know about Sean Mcloughlin?

[Pause] What does he have to do with anything?

Helena, we're trying to help. Please, we need you to tell us what you know.

[Another pause] I...don't think you can help.

What do you mean?

I mean...I think he's too far gone.

Can you explain?

[Long pause] I've started calling them Hyde Glitches.

Hyde Glitches? As in, Jekyll and Hyde?

Yes, exactly. Some call them monsters. Some call them demons. Some simply call them the...darker...parts of us. All of them are right to some degree. These things...they're somewhere in between. Near as I can figure, they're a type of thought form, something created from the minds of people, brought into real life by enough concentration from enough people for a long time. These specific thought forms, they come into being through the internet. Youtube, primarily.

And how does that happen?

Fandoms. They...they grow around these people, thousands or...or millions of people, who're watching, focusing, thinking about this one...focal point.

Does the entity just...come into being? Naturally?

Well, no. Not usually. I think it starts when someone...some mad bastard has the brilliant idea to write up something...dark, about these creators. A fanfiction. They write them a dark side, a hidden psychopath. And then for some sick reason, people latch onto these dark sides. They name them. They draw them. And the longer this idea is around, the stronger the creature gets, until...until they take control. [Pause] I think that's what he's doing now.

And what's his name? This..."thought form" version of Mr. Mcloughlin?

He's got a couple of them...but...the most popular...

Yes?

They...call him Anti.

"Anti"? As in, opposite?

Yes. [Nervous laugh] I never said it was terribly creative. It's short for Antisepticeye. A play on the channel name.

Alright. So..."Anti". This creature has control of Mr. Mcloughlin? Is there any way to destroy it?

[Pause] You believe me.

Yes.

Why?

Helena, it's my job to believe in...unusual things.

[Pause] Yes. There might be a way.

How?

Well...Sean's got to do it. He's got to fight him off. That's why I call it a Hyde Glitch. They're dark sides, so the only way to defeat it is for the light side to win.

Do you think that Sean is strong enough to do that?

I think...he has to try. I hope to god he is.

Why is that?

Because no one else has a chance at stopping him, once he's free.

[Pause] Thank you for your time, Helena.

[End recording]

My favorite part of a character like Anti is the fact that he’s legitimately scary and strange. I love to theorize about him and to wait on the edge of my seat, analyzing videos frame by frame, never knowing when he’s going to show up next, what he’s going to do, and it still makes me nervous every time.

But I also love the silly little memes and gifs that happen between times, the stuff that I know is not canon to his character, just because it’s fun. Those are side things, fun stuff from the community side that’s not meant to be taken seriously. That in no way detracts from the love I have for the actual, legitimately terrifying, psychopathic virus that is Anti.

Whatever you want to do with your character, Jack, is fine by me. I love seeing him, and I love watching what you do. Your acting is incredible and Robin’s editing is top notch, and everything you’ve done so far has been super fun. I love how seriously you take his character and I love how seriously you take your community and your love for them. <3

@therealjacksepticeye

I have to find Anti scary, I write him, and it’s always more fun to write someone truly evil or twisted.

This needs to be said

I do take anti seriously I really do I get spooked when he shows up and I enjoy it. I love this super serious theory’s about anti that are paragraphs long I live for that kind of stuff. But I also enjoy the anti memes that we as a community make like glitch bitch. Jack I’m sorry that it seems like no ones taking anti seriously anymore but we are and we still love him

hahahaha

If you're not too bunged or have a lot of work, would you be interested in doing something about madpat? Maybe with a quite shy reader?

A/N: I’m going with horror here, but I can do accomplice next time if you want? Not huge on doing romantic interest imagines for insanes/evils or the real people, sorry!

“You’re a quiet one.” The grin on his face was the most terrifying thing you’d ever seen, deranged but somehow startlingly present, as if he knew exactly what he was doing, but didn’t care how it hurt anyone else. You leaned away from him, the restraints of your chair not letting you move as far as you would have liked. The small movement made him smirk.

“Aw, that’s funny! You think you can get away from me!” You cringed as he slammed his hands into the back of the chair, his face inches from yours and his breath hot on your skin. “No chance, loyal theorist.”

“Matt, p-please...I-if you can h-hear me...p-please...you’re not l-like this...”

That laugh would stay with you until the day you died. It was the laugh of a lunatic, but it wasn’t senseless. It was dangerously purposeful. You shrunk away, shaking as wide, near-black brown eyes leveled with yours, teeth bared in the ghost of a smile turned grimace.

“Matt. Isn’t. Here.”

His hand was around your throat, tightening by the second.

“And you might think you can save him...”

You couldn’t breathe, you could barely see as his grin grew impossibly bigger.

“But that’s just a theory, isn’t it?”

The mocking tone was lost on you, as the world faded away.

The Characterization of Damien

So a lot of people seem to be interpreting DAMIEN as a redemption of sorts for Dark. I don’t agree with this. I think this addition to the story is a way of making Darkiplier more of what he already was: a sympathetic villain.

Dark’s motivation comes from a just source: he wants to avenge the people he lost and take down this evil, manipulative bastard that is roaming around in his body, who stole everything from him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t use just means to go after him. Dark is more than willing to brun everything in his path to the ground as long as Mark dies; he’ll fight fire with fire, manipulating, torturing, and destroying absolutely everything and everyone to get to Mark, with no regard for the consequences. Somewhere along the way, that just motivation became a blind rage, and he stepped into the role that Mark put in front of him, the role of the villain, with too much zeal and enthusiasm. He fully embraced the darkness around him because he saw nothing but the power it would give him, and not the corruption that would overtake him. 

In this way, he shares a fatal flaw with his twin: he has a completely one-track mind. This isn’t even totally surprising; wasn’t his one ambition to make the city he presided over greater than any other? Wasn’t his one goal at the party to make sure that justice was served and the past was put behind us? Damien is very good at strategy in that he can get what he wants with ruthless efficiency, but he cannot see the consequences of his actions, and that, ultimately, is where Dark’s vilainy comes from. Dark would be a good guy if his actions didn’t cause destruction wherever he went, in a dark shadow of Actor Mark’s actions.