Ok people have been so nice about Last Words. I’m so happy. :)
my glitchy boy is back. i just got my emo boy back, and lots of story for him, and now my glitchy boy is back with TIME TRAVEL JACK I LOVE YOU.
so! thoughts and theories about the latest video!
-have we decided if Dapper Jack is an ego yet? because I would love for Dapper Jack to be an ego. maybe we can call him Sir Septiceye? or something equally silly or old-timey? are there any decided names for him yet?
-Anti apparently has the power to control time now, which is cool. Does this support him being a demon? Or is it more on the idea of a series of alternate universes that he can hop between? I like that second idea better, I think.
-I wanna say it’s a possession in the last few minutes of the video, rather than “it was me the whole time!!” (primarily bc i wanna have Dapper Jack as an ego) I think the mustache ripping is more of Anti mocking Dap by using his own tropes against him.
-Jack becomes Dap when he time travels, which is very neat. So Dap is literally just Jack, but in old times, very Oh Sir and Charlie Chaplin. He’s also 10000% more adorable.
OH FUCKING HELL
...
Pairing: Dean/Reader
Rating: PG 13 for heartbreak
"No."
"Sam, I'm not a child. I can do this."
"No. You're not going in there."
"Well, why do you have to do it? What makes you more qualified than me?"
"I'm his brother."
"I'm his girlfriend. Have been for three years."
Sam sighed and looked down at his shuffling feet. The bunker was quiet, and felt almost suffocating today. There was a table covered in empty coffee mugs, and a dungeon that was all too full.
This was the third time you and Sam had had this debate, and you were determined to win, close to tears or not. When he finally looked up and nodded, you blinked.
"You're gonna let me do it?"
He gave a very weary smile. "Like you said, you're not a kid. And...Maybe you would be better."
He was nearly knocked over by the tight hug you gave him, and stroked your hair.
One... Two...
Breathe.
Three.
You slid the door open slowly, the creak and groan of metal filling the silence. Not looking up from the ground, you came into the room.
There was the sound of movement, a moment of surprised hesitation, then...a laugh. And it wasn't his laugh.
"I was wondering when Sammy would let you down here, (Y/N)."
You tried very hard not to wince at your name in that mocking tone, eyes still glued to the ground as you shut the door and went to the small silver table with the roll of syringes.
"Aw, you're gonna drug me up. Baby, that's adorable-"
"Don't call me baby." You could almost feel him smile; it made your skin crawl.
"Why not? You love it when I call you baby."
"I love when Dean calls me baby."
"I am Dean. Just-"
"You say a newer model and I'll punch you in the goddamn face." He chuckled.
You picked up a syringe, and a needle. Put the two together. Started to roll up your sleeve.
"You know you can't fix me, right?"
"Watch me."
"Well," he shuffled again, relaxing into the chair a bit, "you can make me human again, sure. But you can never fix me. I'll always be broken. I was when I met you, I was before I got the Mark, I was when I was human and had it. This is the closest to whole and happy I've ever been."
"Shut up." It was practically a whisper.
But he kept on, and the words hurt worse than the needle in your skin.
"See, now I'm not worried about anything. I don't care if Sammy dies, or Cas. I don't care if you die-"
"Shut. Up."
"-I wouldn't feel a bit of guilt, even with your blood on my hands. Actually, that'd be kinda fun. Chasing you around, hunting you down-"
You pulled the needle out sharply and stalked over to him, jabbing it in mercilessly. He hissed and fought, crying out as you pushed in the plunger and the blood flooded his system again. As you walked back over to the table, he began to scream.
"Why the hell are you even trying?! This won't work! It can't, and I don't want it to! Why does it matter what happens to me?!"
"Because I can't lose you, and I won't, even if I have to go to Hell and back again. Because Dean Winchester, I love you, and I won't stop until you're human or I'm dead."
As you walked out, you kept your eyes fixed on the door, trying desperately to ignore the tears blinding you at least until that door was shut behind you again. To your surprise, he said nothing else, and the only sound from him was heavy, ragged breathing.
You didn't look back as you shut the door, but if you had, you would have seen the demon staring at you, face slack with shock, frozen.
Just for a moment, right before the door closed, he moved forward, and opened his mouth as if to speak.
And there was a flash of green in those black eyes.
WILLIAM J BARNUM!!
AND HE’S NOT CRAZY AT ALL, HE’S TRYING TO UNDERSTAND AND HE CAN’T BECAUSE THERE’S TOO MUCH HAPPENING! HE’S AWARE THAT IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE AND THAT HE’S LOSING IT ALL AND IF THAT ISN’T THE SADDEST BIT OF THE STORY DUDE
@markiplier BRO YOU KNOW HOW TO BREAK MY FUCKING HEART AND MAKE ME LAUGH AT THE SAME TIME WTF
Thinking about making this into a video soon, let me know what you think!
FRIENDS. THINGS ARE HAPPENING. I’M BACK ON MY THEORIST SHIT AGAIN.
So I watched the clip several times, at varying speeds, and tried to transcribe what I heard:
[loud screech, metal on metal]
[crash, again seems to be metal on metal]
[hiss, as of steam being released]
[car engine revving]
Unknown Voice: Everything is happy...
[sound of a train going over tracks, faint train whistle]
Unknown Voice: [unclear] living his life to come through...
So that second voice line is one I couldn’t quite make out. The top two interpretations I got were “He’s living his life to come through” and “He’s giving his life to come too.”
I also snapped a picture of whatever flashed on screen in the darkness:
So you can’t see much here, but when I brighten it...
A door? When the image keeps moving, there are lights at regular intervals along the roof. Coupled with the sound, my guess is this is a train compartment, possibly in the style of Murder on the Orient Express.
Are we getting a new adventure? Possibly another murder mystery?
Such interesting developments, and with Halloween right around the corner...
Pairing: NONE WHATSOEVER
Rating: PG for spookiness
Your road was silent at this time of night, and it wasn't exactly comforting. The usual bustle of cars on the main cut through felt muted, and the cold October air offered an air of stillness, like someone had pressed pause on just your little road.
Your car made the only sound as it trundled to a stop in the parking lot beside your apartment building, which cut off quickly as you pulled out your key and stepped out, busily gathering your belongings, glancing around nervously. Something was off...something was wrong...
What was that? You blinked and locked your eyes on it more firmly, forcing your tired mind to focus.
A statue stood at the edge of the vacant lot, huge wings curled behind it and hands to its face, gray dress stuck eternally furling in a nonexistent wind.
No.
Oh god no.
It couldn't be, not here.
Your eyes were frozen open and locked on the angel as you backed away slowly toward your building.
Just get inside. You can call him from in there. There, you'd be safer.
Only perhaps twenty yards to the door.
Your eyes were watering, stinging, burning, but you couldn't let them close, not for even a moment. Almost all of your will was focused on you eyes, and what was left was focused on moving slowly toward the double doors to sanctuary.
But then, your bag slipped from your hands. The crash on the pavement jarred you.
You blinked.
The angel was closer. Perhaps a yard, perhaps two. But that was enough to make your heart stop for a moment, and you redoubled your efforts, eyes that now knew the taste of comfort begging for it but you were determined to win.
Only ten more yards to freedom.
Something shuffled behind you, and it took everything you had to fight your instincts and keep your eyes on the angel before you, to keep moving.
The thing shuffled closer again, its steps sounding very deliberate, but almost...lazy. As if the movement, though quick, was relaxed. Like it was taking its time.
You would have missed the sound any other night, and you wished to god you'd missed it that night. That sound would haunt you forever, wake you in cold sweats and screaming.
A small, breathy, eerily echoing on nothing at all, chuckle.
In your horror you spun around.
The Angel wore a smile.
There was a hand on your back.
I’M SORRY WHAT?! ONE OF MY FAVORITE FAN CREATORS IS WORKING WITH SEAN TO MAKE CHARACTER CONTENT?! HOLY SHIT?!
I’m actively shocked that I don’t have a bingo.
How many full rows do you have?
this.
this makes perfect sense.
this is literally my theory and even i kinda doubt it but like
i see similarities
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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