#AND WHEN WARFSTACHE EXPLAINS TO ABE WHERE HE IS

[stillbreathing-aer]

i just finished watching a video that compiled all of the markiplier cinematic universe (MCU) and WHAT IS THAT STUPID SONG THAT HE ALWAYS USES DURING THE EMOTIONAL SCENES?? IT RUINS ME EVERY TIME IT STARTS PLAYING

[ricky-tiki-tah]

Ego Headcanons: The Ipliers

Pt. 1

Iplier Manor is home to most of Mark Fischbach’s egos, the Ipliers.

The Actor-Marc(he/him): doesn’t live at the manor. No one knows where he is or much about him. Dark is the only one who recalls what Actor did, and Host knows due to their powers. His body was dead before and during the entirety of WKM (explaining the amount of maiming that Abe listed). He considers the egos made from AHWM and ISWM to be his children, except Engie. He doesn’t like Engie. (More on that in another post). None of those egos know he calls them his children/creations. He cannot be seen as a failure/the bad guy. (In the words of Mark himself, a narcissist asshole). All of the films he was in disappeared without a trace when he died for the first time due to interference by the HE, leaving many film buffs confused (many people thought the movies, and even Marc himself, to be mass hallucinations and there was later a documentary done on the phenomenon)- Powers: can harness the power of the House Entity to create pocket realities(and stay alive).

Wilford Warfstache(he/him): gnc pan Pink and yellow whirlwind of a man. Cries bubbles. Is more powerful than Dark but content letting him take the lead on most things while co-leading the egos. In a relationship with Dark. The events of WKM haunt his dreams, but he very rarely remembers them in the morning. His mustache and a strip of his hair are naturally pink, he doesn’t dye it. (The color loses vibrancy the closer he is to William. Some mornings, his hair/mustache will be entirely brown. On those days, Dark will sit quietly with him until Wilford finally slips back into place.) He feels a special connection to Dark, but is unsure why (he stopped questioning it after they started dating, assuming that’s why). His bouts as William can be triggered by Damien/Celine so they tend to avoid the bubblegum man when in control. - Powers: reality bending (telepathy/telekinesis/teleportation/ ect.)

Darkiplier-Dark/Damien(they/he): nonbinary ace fusion. Is the designated Head of Iplier Manor. While Dark is their own consciousness created as a byproduct of the twins having been stuck in The Upside-down for a time, they only exist when both Damien and Celine are in the body(they can only separate when in Actor’s stories). Dark specifically is the one in a relationship with Wilford, not the twins. Who is in control can be determined by the color of their aura, with Dark having both red and blue, Damien having only blue, and Celine having only red. (Damien will go by both ‘Dark’ and his own name when in control, while Celine chooses to only go by ‘Dark’.) Only a few of the older egos actually know the difference. Dark himself is usually in control of the body with the twins keeping a running commentary in the back of their mind. Celine is the strongest, due to having been a seer, and can force the other two asleep if she so wishes. Feels a sort of parental responsibility for Engie despite them not being a ‘young’ ego. - Powers: blasts of raw telekinesis like power, shadow bending(possibly more, undiscovered)

King of the Squirrels-Artie(he/him): a physically younger ego (roughly 12). Was pretty much adopted by Dark/Wilford. Has a treehouse connected to his bedroom through the window where most of his squirrel friends have built nests. Always has one or two baby squirrels in his pockets. Has named all of his squirrel friends. Doesn’t usually have his peanut butter beard(Dark banned it in the house and he ushers almond butter instead when a Crank is over). Likes spending time with Engie, who is fascinated by all types of animals. - Powers: higher agility, can talk to animals.

Engineer Mark-Engie(he/they): an ego made from Dark, specifically Damien (like how Marc considers certain egos his children). Due to that, he feels a special connection to Dark and has adopted them as a parent. He likes hanging out with Wilford. They love animals of any type and can often be found with Artie, helping him take care of his squirrels. Loves hugs and will find any excuse to hug someone. They are basically the physical embodiment of Mark’s love for space. He has those glow in the dark stars on his bedroom ceiling and a telescope. - Powers: unknown

The Host-Isaac(he/they): demiaroace nonbinary. uses his narrations as a sort of echolocation, able to see what they describe. Doesn’t technically need a service dog, but sometimes wishes they had one (more so when Mark and Amy visit with Chica)- Powers: visions, low level mental suggestion, and limited reality warping through narrations.

The Author-Oscar(he/him): aroace agender. Wrote actual books. Lived alone in a cabin. Loves dogs. Does not like large groups of people. Keeps to himself. - Powers: low level mental suggestion, limited reality warping through written word.

— Host and Author are siblings OR the same person depending on how I want to write them. (There is a separate post for these 2 as well)

Dr. Edward Iplier-Doc(he/him): demiaroace in a relationship with Host. Watches those medical dramas. Consistently running on 2 hours of sleep and way too much caffeine, but somehow always pretty chill and looks well put together. Pretty much adopted Eric. Dislikes when Mark is off his ADHD meds because it effects all the egos. - Powers: can see how people will die. (He’s very glad egos don’t stay dead)

Eric Derekson(he/him): anxiety boiTM. One of the younger egos (about 18-19). Has chronic bad luck. Has two prosthetic legs. Showed up at the Manor one day and was practically adopted by Doc and Host by the end of the day. Enjoys spending time with Oliver. - Powers: unknown

Bim Trimmer(he/him): theatre bi, not a literal cannibal. Does enjoy very rare steaks though and was mistaken as one by the Jims. Runs a game show in Wilford’s studio but often helps Wilford with interviews as well. Hangs out with Murdock the most and has taken Yan under his wing. He sees Yancy sort of as a younger brother too. - Powers: ramped up charisma

Murdock Malarkey(he/him): murder man with a plan. He’s the older of the two Malarkey brothers. Murdock has a job as a paranormal investigator(the Drowned Man). Keeps an eye on Yancy most of the time. Has a flair for the dramatic and enjoys spending time with Bim. He definitely gives murder tips to Yan. He helped Yancy with the murder of their parents but got away while Yancy got caught. He still blames himself for not watching his brother close enough. Write poetry in his free time. Sometimes hangs out with Author. - Powers: can see and talk to ghosts.

Yancy Malarkey(he/him): theatre kid all the way. The younger Malarkey brother. Best friends with Heapass. Very good with anything that could be used to stab. Regularly spars with Yan to keep their skills up. Got a job at the local corner store after he got out of Happy Trails on parole. Wants to someday hit Broadway. Does not blame Murdock for ending up in jail and constantly tries to explain how it’s not his fault. - Powers: Magic tattoos that he cannot control.

Yandereplier-Yan(she/they): transfem demigirl. Physically younger ego (about 15-16). Hangs around the Malarkeys and Bim to the point that she’ll call them her uncles. Has their own katana. She and Yancy made a secret club called “The Yan Gang” and they meet up every Monday to play dress up and make plans for the week. - Powers: heightened agility, instant mastery of weapons techniques.

The Iplier egos are all open to questions.

Part 2

[falseroar]

Murder on the Warfstache Express

Part 2: An Easy Offer to Refuse

((Wilford's a hard man to keep track of, especially when Abe keeps running into other passengers with their own issues.

Here's a link to Part 1: All Aboard, Full Steam Ahead and a link to the masterlist for the series.))

Spoiler alert? Why did that sound familiar? Where had he heard that before? Had he heard it before now, or…?

For some reason, seeing the phrase made Abe want to down his own drink in a single gulp, which is just what he did.

When that wasn’t enough to drown out the uneasiness building in his stomach, Abe stood and make his way back to the bar.

“Really?” Benjamin asked when the detective placed the glass down on the bar a little too hard.

“Got anything stronger?” Abe asked, and when the butler turned bartender gave him a look, he tilted his head in the direction of the chairs he just left.

Benjamin followed the gesture, his frown growing more baffled as he asked, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“It means of course I want something stronger, if I’m going to have to deal with—”

Abe’s voice caught in his throat as he looked back and found both seats empty.

“He was just—where did he go?”

“Where did who go?” Benjamin asked, only to raise his hands in defense when Abe shot him a glare.

“Wilford! Wilford ‘Motherlovin’ Warfstache, who else?”

“…Who?”

It dawned on Abe that not everyone had spent the last few…months? Years? Whatever, too long, chasing the man responsible for so many murders, a man who left identities in his wake like a terrible party clown leaving behind crying children.

“The Colonel,” Abe whispered, not eager to explain himself to the other passengers. Not that he could explain what happened back at that house, not even to himself. “He’s here, on this train!”

Abe expected shock, horror maybe at his words, not the pitying gaze before Benjamin refilled his drink.

“Abe, I think I would have noticed if the Colonel were here.”

“You didn’t know I was here until just a few minutes ago.” Abe shook his head. “And he’s not calling himself the Colonel anymore, he’s going by the name Wilford Warfstache now.”

“Oh really?” Benjamin cocked a smile, like that was even close to the most ridiculous name Wilford had used since the party.

Wingleheimer, really?

“Yes, really.” Abe snatched up the drink before Benjamin could rethink giving it to him and said, “Look, just keep an eye out and tell me immediately if you spot him, got it? If he’s running around here unsupervised, there’s no telling what might happen.”

“If I see that man, I think I would do more than that,” Benjamin answered, his voice sharp enough to make Abe do a double take. There was a glimpse of anger and something venomous in that scowl before professionalism and his neutral customer service face took over again. “But I think this is simply a case of mistaken identity, detective. Please, do try to relax on this trip. You do so look like you need it.”

Abe growled and walked away, mimicking Benjamin’s words under his breath as he plopped back down into the same chair as before, on high alert for any sign of the colorful killer. He was not about to let himself be taken by surprise by Wilford, not again.

Except the longer he waited there, the more Abe’s imagination conjured up images of what Wilford could be doing elsewhere.

The imaginary bodies were piling up and Wilford was at the helm or whatever they called the front of the train by the time Abe leapt to his feet and dropped the empty glass at the bar before charging toward the front of the lounge car.

Where he promptly collided with Harold Apless once again, sending the man staggering back into the small vestibule between cars before Abe shot out a hand and steadied him.

“Sorry about that, Haps,” Abe said.

“It’s Harold Apless,” Harold said, straightening up and dusting himself down with a frown.

“Yeah, of course. Hey, Happy, you seen anyone come through here recently? Man about yay high, black mustache going a bit pink around the edges, colorful suit that would stand out under a blacklight?”

“That…sounds like a hard to miss kind of person,” Happy said, brow creased as he considered the image. “But no, I can’t say that I’ve seen anyone like that.”

“Damn. Well, if you do see him, tell me immediately. He’s…” Abe hesitated. He didn’t want to start a panic among the passengers, but he felt a bit of a kindred spirit in Harold Apless. Maybe it was the image of a man just trying to do his job, whatever that might be, or maybe it was the resting sad face that looked too tired to be dealing with any of this, but there was something about the poor schmuck that Abe took a shine to, which is why he slid the door to the lounge car shut behind him and lowered his voice. “Look, Wilford Warfstache is a dangerous man, a wildcard that can’t be trusted. You see him, you keep your distance if you know what’s good for you. Got it?”

Happy’s hand went to his waist, to the weapon Abe knew was hiding under that long coat, and he asked, “When you say dangerous…?”

“He’s killed people.” No point in beating around the bush, after all. “I don’t know what he’s doing on this train, but I’m going to take care of him.”

“Once you can find him?”

“…He can be a hard man to find sometimes,” Abe answered.

“In his bright clothes and pink mustache.”

Abe might have suspected some sarcasm there, but Happy’s face looked just as serious as ever. Still, considering he was letting the man in on the situation, Abe figured he deserved to know a little more about the guy, which is why he asked, “What about you, what’s your deal?”

“My deal?” Happy tensed.

“I know you’re packing heat,” Abe said, gesturing toward the barely concealed holster that Happy quickly covered. “And you had to say or do something to keep it from getting locked up during the trip. Looking at the clothes, general demeanor, the haircut under that ridiculous hat of yours, and that badge sticking out of your pocket, my guess is a government agent of some kind. Sound about right?”

Happy jumped and reached for his pocket, only for his concern to turn to confusion.

“You can’t have seen my badge, it isn’t even in my pocket!”

Abe grinned. “Yeah, I kind of took a long shot and guessed on that one. Thanks for confirming though, Agent Apless.”

“Don’t…don’t call me that, please,” Happy begged, looking around as though someone might have snuck into the small space between cars without their noticing. “Look, you’re…sort of right, but I can’t go into details or explain…anything, really. I’m here on highly classified business, and if you tell anyone who or what I am, I will deny it until…Until…”

“Until the cows come home?”

Happy’s brow creased, eyes shifting one way and then the other as he tried and failed to follow that train of thought. “What do cows have to do with this?”

Abe slapped Happy’s shoulder, a friendly gesture that nearly knocked the man off of his feet.

“Don’t worry about it, your secret’s safe with me. You got your job, I got mine, and I’ll leave you to it. But if you see Warfstache or need any help, just give me the word, got it partner?”

“Partner?” Happy shook his head. “No, no, I don’t do partners.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Abe said with a knowing wink before stepping around Happy to get to the door leading back to the sleeping car. “See you around, and good luck with whatever the hell it is you’re doing.”

“…Thank you?”

Happy stared after the detective before shaking his head and continuing on into the lounge car, muttering under his breath about cows.

On the other side of the set of doors, Abe stopped once again to consider the compartments to either side with the new information that these were the only ones on this train. One of them had to belong to Wilford, and while he would have loved nothing more than an excuse to snoop through each and every one, thanks to the music earlier he already knew where to start.

Abe approached the door opposite Happy’s compartment and, after trying in vain to get the right angle to see something beyond the drawn shade, pressed his ear against the wood and listened.

Silence, except for the muted vibrations of the train, and then—

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Abe turned to the man looking out of the next compartment over with a slow, dignified air that did nothing to erase the startled jump and swearing that preceded it, and answered, “What does it look like?”

The man, who clearly worked for the rich snob from earlier, frowned at him with the slightest shake of his head to announce his disapproval, which made it all the stranger when he said, “I was just coming to look for you. My employer would like to have a word with you, detective.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to have a word with him,” Abe pointed out.

“I believe you’ll find it well worth your while, if you take him up on his offer,” the other man said, and when Abe seemed less than persuaded, he added, “We’re just asking you to hear him out, that’s all.”

“Oh, so it’s an offer now, is it?”

The other man just smiled and gestured to the open door of the compartment. Abe had better things to do with his time, but curiosity was one hell of a temptress that he’d never learned to ignore.

The compartment was big, bigger than it had any right to be, and Abe might have given more thought to how the dimensions of the compartment failed to line up with the size of the train car it was in if his attention wasn’t captivated by the absolutely ostentatious decor inside the room.

Exotic furs served as both rugs and covers on the absolutely massive bed that couldn’t possibly have fit through the compartment door, and there looked to be a private bar in the corner stocked with so many bottles that it made the bar in the lounge look bare by comparison. Shelves lined the interior wall, full of ancient books, designed more to show off the wealth and culture of their owner than to actually be read, alongside displayed curiosities from around the world, such as an elegant porcelain mask on a stand or the solid-gold honeycomb that would make anyone with even a slight tendency toward trypophobia deeply uncomfortable. Hanging on the wall adjacent to Wilford’s compartment was an oil painting of a depressed looking man dressed in a red jester’s outfit slumped in a chair, his stare haunting until Abe managed to look away and focus on the man lounging on the couch opposite him.

“What do you think?” the rich man asked, seeing Abe’s eyes make a circuit around the room.

“Bit much,” Abe answered. “You don’t believe in traveling light, do you?”

“Why should I? Traveling for business is fine and dandy, but a man likes to have the comforts of home every now and then, don’t you think?”

Abe shrugged and admitted, “I wouldn’t know. Home comforts aren’t really in my wheelhouse.”

“Would you like something to drink, detective? You seem a little tense,” the rich man said, and with a snap of his fingers and a gesture from his assistant to the private bar added, “Don’t keep our guest waiting, Mack. And fix something for me while you’re at it, why don’t you?”

Abe noted the brief, blink and you’d miss it spark of irritation in Mack’s eyes even as he plastered on a fake smile that would give Benjamin’s a run for its money and said, “Of course, right away sir.”

 “Yeah, you keep calling me a detective, but I don’t recall telling you as much when we ran into each other earlier,” Abe said. He distinctly remembered being referred to as a “low class, ill-mannered lout” in fact. “Or you ever telling me who you’re supposed to be.”

“Name’s Richard M. Bags, Esquire,” the rich man answered over the sound of Mack uncorking a new bottle, although Abe suspected that “esquire” was thrown in to sound important more than to actually mean anything. As if to emphasize the point Richard added in a low voice as though imparting a secret, “The ‘M’ stands for ‘Money.’ I’m what you would call filthy, ludicrously rich, if you haven’t intuited that little fact.”

“I might have picked up on it,” Abe said, taking the glass Mack offered him and glancing at the contents with a frown as the assistant handed a second glass to Moneybags over on the couch. “What’s that got to do with me?”

Richard swirled the contents of his glass around, savoring the aroma before answering, “I have attained my vast wealth and estates through a mixture of hard, honest work and good business sense—”

Abe snorted back a laugh at that, and in his defense, Richard tilted his head and admitted, “And maybe some not so honest endeavors, although nothing that could ever be proven before a jury of my peers, even if there were many of those around. My point, detective, is that one does not reach my place in society without stepping on a few little people along the way.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard this song and dance before,” Abe said, spinning his finger around to gesture for the man to hurry up and get to the point. “Let me guess, you got rich, made some enemies along the way, and now the consequences of your actions are coming back to haunt you.”

 Moneybags bristled, like most men of his kind did whenever someone suggested their situation was far from unique or even interesting, but Abe had dealt with too many similar cases to be surprised, especially not when Richard continued, “People want me dead, detective.”

Richard pulled a note from the chest pocket of his suit and held it out to Mack, who passed it to Abe for inspection as Mack explained, “This was slipped under the door after the train left the station. I looked, of course, and checked with the conductor, but we didn’t see who left it.”

Abe unfolded the note and nodded, taking a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship.

“Words cut out of a newspaper, nice.” Seeing the other two men’s expressions, he explained, “You just don’t see people taking the time to craft a quality threatening note these days. Obvious why some of these words are individual letters pieced together, but what are the odds of finding an article with the word ‘stupendous’ in it?”

“I’m glad you find the threat on my life amusing, detective,” Richard said, ice dripping from his tone.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Abe corrected while he reread the note again. “That would make it even a little bit interesting.”

Big Dick Moneybags,

Your stupendous greed and arrogance will be your undoing.

Enjoy your last night on the express train of life.

“Almost poetic,” Abe said. “You get many of these?”

“Threats on my life? All the time,” Richard said with a nonchalant shrug. “Like I said, enemies happen. But that was before the brake lines on six different vehicles I have been in over the last month were cut, before the stage light at the theater last night fell on the seat I was supposed to be sitting in if I had not needed to go to the restroom due to some questionable dining choices, before a rabid raccoon ‘accidentally’ got locked in the elevator with me at the hotel…”

“Before someone poisoned your drink.”

Richard froze, the glass pressed to his lips.

Abe tilted his glass this way and that, observing the powder that had failed to disintegrate in the alcohol swirling around at the bottom. “Unless you’re just in the habit of putting weird crap in your drinks. I don’t know, I’m just riff-raff that prefers a hard whiskey over whatever it is rich people drink.”

Richard lowered the glass and stared at the same off-color sediment in his drink before looking to Mack, whose face had visibly paled at the detective’s words.

“It was a new bottle, I swear sir,” Mack said, glancing over his shoulder at the offending bottle. “It—it didn’t look like it had been tampered with or I would have never…”

He gulped, trembling so hard Abe almost took pity on him.

“Not impossible to tamper with a drink and hide the evidence,” Abe said. “I’ve seen some clever stuff using syringes, or you could just pop the cork and reseal it with fresh wax. Takes a bit of planning, and unless they went through and tampered with everything you’ve got lined up over there, a bit of luck to make sure you end up opening the right one.”

Mack took both glasses carefully, as though afraid even touching the alcohol might be dangerous, and Abe added, “Of course, we can’t be sure without testing it, but if I had to guess…”

He stuck a pinky in one glass and, ignoring Mack and Richard’s horrified reactions, put it to his mouth for a taste before confirming, “Oh yeah, I know this one. I’d give somebody an hour tops after drinking that stuff.”

Abe, registering that they were still staring, said, “What? It’s not like it’s iocane powder or something,” his numb tongue only slightly slurring the words.

“What should I do with this?” Mack asked.

“Toss it, of course!” Richard rolled his eyes while Mack walked the glasses to the private bathroom, and Abe considered suggesting they keep the stuff for testing before thinking better of it. “See, detective, this is exactly why I’m looking to hire you.”

“You want to what now?”

“Clearly there is someone on this train who wants me dead,” Richard said, leaning forward as he spoke. “It took me a minute to place you after our little…unfortunate run-in earlier, but I overheard your spat with the conductor back at the station. Your list of accomplishments might not have persuaded him, but I believe you could be the solution to my little problem.”

“Your little problem being someone on this train wants you dead?”

“And I’m willing to pay you handsomely if you find and deal with them,” Richard said, and in case Abe had any false notion on what he meant by dealing with this potential assassin, “With a bonus for extreme prejudice. I don’t want this cretin getting off the train at the next station, if you catch my drift.”

Abe whistled.

“Wow, you really are a horrible judge of character if you think I’m going to get my hands dirty for you.”

“What…Are you saying no, detective?” Richard stood up from the couch, visibly shocked. “After I just told you someone is trying to kill me?”

“One, I’m a detective, not a hired thug. Two, I don’t work for rich idiots, kind of learned my lesson on that one the hard way. And three, there’s probably less than a dozen people on this train, I think you can narrow it down to the people who want you dead without my help.” Abe lowered his voice and added, “My money’s on your boy Mack, but that’s just because if I had to work for you, I might be tempted to knock you off too.”

“What?” Mack said from over by the bar, panic in his eyes.

“Just a joke, kid, kind of like this whole conversation.”

Richard was shaking with barely concealed rage, and his voice was as low and as poisonous as that drink as he said, “Get out. I should have known better than to look for help from some washed-up, drunk excuse for a detective. Get. Out!”

Abe shrugged, already on his way toward the compartment door. He’d been called worse, hell, he’d said worse stuff to his reflection in the mirror every morning back when he was trying to do the daily affirmation thing. It certainly didn’t do anything to stop him from feeling like he’d just dodged a bullet when he stepped out of the elegant to the point of suffocating compartment and back into the familiar hallway of the passenger car.

((End of part 2. Thanks for reading!

Okay, so technically "Big Dick Moneybags" is what Mark was called back on a Thankmas stream back in 2018 and not even close to an "official" ego, but I'm going to pretend like it counts. Because even if Actor Mark isn't here, he can still be with us in spirit. And be just as much of an asshole.

Link to Part 3: Dining Service.

Taglist: @silver-owl413 @asteriuszenith @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @95fangirl @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-star-eyes @shyinspiredartist @avispate @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox @hidinginmybochard))

[coolmayordamien]

Some sweet, angsty Abestache for my beloved @willywarfy

"Don't wanna live a life that is comprehensive; cause seeing clear would be a bad idea."

Being with Wilford is an experience. Usually a good one, sometimes a frightening one, and frequently a painful one. But Abe would rather take a bullet to the heart than spend another moment without him.

He knows which one hurts more, trust him.

Again, it's usually good. Great, even. The happiest that he's ever been in his life, probably. Wilford is, in many ways, perfect for him.

Sometimes Abe will be sitting at his desk, pouring over case files with a glass of whiskey, and he'll look up to see his lover stretched out on the sofa (three guesses on who had decided that his office needed a sofa) with his hands behind his head and a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. It always takes the detective off-guard when Wil just appears out of nowhere, even after all of this time.

"I was thinking about you," he'll explain, and Abe will realize that he is a goner. Because Wilford can (and sometimes does) spend the whole day stepping out from around corners or out of closets (and on one memorable occasion, falling out of the fridge) and right into his detective's arms, simply because he can't stop thinking about Abe.

It's a nice feeling, knowing just how often he crosses this man's mind. The detective has spent years, although he could not say precisely how many, consumed by thoughts of Wilford Warfstache, in one form or another. Obsessing over him, hunting him, desperate to force him to explain his actions. Cross-referencing alibies, keeping tabs on every single person who had managed to survive those awful events-

Getting too caught up in the details, focusing on the minutae of it all.

-devoting every moment of his life to this one man.

Things aren't so different now that they're an item, as a matter of fact. Abe still spends most of his time tracking his mustachioed maverick down, trying to get useful information out of him. And obsessing over Wil, of course. It's just a healthier, more enjoyable obsession now.

But it's not all fun and games. They're not a pair of springtime lovers, sound of mind and body, cured of their every imperfection by the miracle of love.

They're people. Flawed, damaged, traumatized people. And they share a lot of history together.

Sometimes when Wilford appears out of thin air, it doesn't just startle Abe; it terrifies him. He'll feel his heart begin to pound and will remember how it felt to drown in his own blood. He'll choke, tears streaming down his face as he fumbles for the gun, and it is not Wilford who is reaching to steady him but a wild-eyed Colonel with a 357 Magnum and his partner is right there he can't let them die not this time not again-

Sometimes Wil remembers things that he is supposed to forget, and forgets things that he is supposed to remember. Every so often he'll sort of...wake up. He'll stop whatever he's doing, his beautiful eyes losing their usual intensity as they scan the room, unfocused and afraid. Abe knows what he is looking for.

"They're not here, Wil," he'll say softly. The man with the pink mustache will startle, his face twisting up suspiciously. If Abe is lucky, Wilford will not recognize him.

"Where are they, detective?" William demands angrily on days that Abe is not lucky. "Where's Celine? Where's Damien? Where are my friends?"

"They're- they're not here," he stammers, because he promised that he would never lie to his lover, even when the truth only hurts him.

Once, Abe had lost his temper. Wil had been frightening him, had cornered him by the doorway and it was too much like what had happened before. He had snapped, grabbing him by the shoulders and shouting, "They're dead! They're gone and they are NEVER COMING BACK, no matter how many times we do this!"

Wil had shot him. Again.

That was...a very bad night indeed. Abe doesn't like thinking about it, remembering the pain of the bullet and the pain of the betrayal, knowing that he couldn't really die again but not being able to stop himself from crying out as his blood dripped onto the floor, as William became Wilford once again and screamed in horror at what he had done, crying and laughing and shaking as he pressed his bare hands against Abe's wound to staunch the bleeding that had never really begun, because it had never really stopped.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Wil rambled, his hands and sleeves turning pink with blood. "I didn't mean- I'm so sorry, I didn't know that it was loaded-"

Abe wonders who Wilford sees when he's like that. The District Attorney, maybe. It can't be Abe himself. William had absolutely meant to kill him.

Sometimes Abe looks at the man he loves and thinks, 'Murderer. You're in love with a murderer, you filthy traitor, what would everyone think? Are you crazy?'

Wilford always hears him when he wonders if he's crazy. Abe has just about given up on trying to figure out how he does it. But it's alright, because he only takes Abe in his arms, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead, his cheek, his mouth.

"Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're crazy," Wilford says strongly, a beautiful, mad grin on his face. "Not even yourself. I think that you might be in need of a little fun, sweetheart."

As they dance together on the stage, lights flashing, music blaring, Abe knows that everything is going to be alright. He's got what he needs; a man who can bring a little color into his world, a little madness into his life. A little bit of pain as well, true, but that just makes these few perfect moments all the sweeter.

"I love you," Abe says suddenly, and the joy on Wilford's motherlovin' face at those words--he would be happy if he could make Wil smile like that every day for the rest of time.

So he does.

[hessonite-dragon]

(cont.)

But, they are also not in control of this.

Like I said in the first two screenshots, I believe they are so not in control of their Where and When that the normal rules don't apply to them all the time anymore. Most other people have some sort of control over where they are (the When is mostly out of our hands but we can at least trust it to follow a consistent march forward...most of the time).

This complete loss of control is handled very differently between Abe and Wilford. Abe spends the entirety of WMW questioning why things don't make sense, and Wilford just lets it happen because why not?

When Abe says "It's impossible to know things that haven't happened yet," and Wilford responds with "Yes, exactly!" Wilford is saying that The Train has happened to him, which I love because it creates a disconnect between Wilford and the rest of the world.

Most people experience Time as happening to them and all the world around them, which is not the case for Wilford and Abe. They only view Time as passing around them. In Wilford's past is The Train, but he understands that The Train might not have happened to Abe yet, since both of them are disconnected from the regular steady march of Time.

Now, I can't really explain the 'How' of how specific instances of this disconnect happen (as in; How Wilford escapes from the chair, appears in separate areas of the interrogation room, etc.) because we're not supposed to look that deep. This is about as much as I can apply "How"s to.

I love how once Wilford (and Abe) let go of their (slipping) control of their Where and When, shit like that happens. And for them, it is much healthier to just shrug and say "Might as well happen" or "Why not?"

That concludes my impromptu ramble about these two, I might expand on this later... who knows? Hey, if any a y'all experience a similar disconnect like Abe and Warfstache, and happen to find a continuation of this, mind telling me how it goes? Thanks!

I am Incredibly Normal about Abe the Detective and Wilford Warfstache: A text post

So, an AO3 fic made me think more about how Abe and Wilford do the things they do

Throughout Wilford 'MOTHERLOVING' Warfstache, both Abe and Wilford display some sort of oddity that doesn't follow the logical paths of either Space or Time (The concepts of which will be capitalized because they are Important)

It's much more obvious for Wilford, but there are several instances of Abe also having Weird moments

For example:

The camera slides across the car's rim in this scene, and Abe suddenly has a vape pen. This is double weird because 1, that wasn't there before, and 2, a vape doesn't fit the Noir style attached to Abe..

I don't believe I need to provide examples of weird moments involving Wilford.

So, in my mind, Wilford and Abe are -in some way- not bound to the rules of Space and Time.

(1/?)

[justyoursicanon]

who killed markiplier oc that i just thought of on the spot-

this is quite long so enjoy my rant ^^

Kendrick Rayborn, a 29 year old man who worked alongside Benjamin the butler for Actor and Celine. Kendrick absolutely despised the 2 (mostly Actor) for how he had treated Benjamin. Kendrick is the same height as Benjamin and more as a protective brother for Benjamin. Kendrick doesn't mind the chef at all because he understands why the man is always grumpy.

During the events who Who killed markiplier, Kendrick he had fallen sick leading for Benjamin to work alone. When he had returned, the manor had been on the news and covered by the police. Chef and Benjamin had gone missing (reason being wanting nothing to do with everything that had happened) and had brought Kendrick in despair knowing the only people he knew were probably long gone.

A few years later before Wilford Motherloving Warfstache, Kendrick who had tried to forget his days in the manor returns and sees a sort of detective gazing at a broken mirror. Kendrick knew the guy for Actor had talked about the familiar man that was known as Abe and had even seen a few pictures, so out of anger Kendrick had almost choked the detective wanting to know where the chef and butler were but Abe explains that he also wanted to know what exactly happened, so Kendrick gave him a chance and decided to work alongside him with a few cases related and unrelated to wkm.

After Wilford Motherloving Warfstache, with Abe missing it leaves Kendrick absolutely wrecked. Years on he still works as a detective and once he gets a lead of Wilford being active in a club again, he was able to follow him and it leads him into the Ego manor where everyone he had thought he lost, stood right in front of him once again.

He stays not wanting to loose Benjamin, who lives and works for Dark but not much as a Butler like before. And just hates and wants nothing to do with everyone.

[seaofghouls]

Theory Time! ( WKM Timeline)

So! Hey there! Maple here.

With the release of WAIA, there’s more lore to go through! I’ve only really talked about my theories and thoughts on Discord but I’ve never said anything on here.

So, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

!SPOILERS FOR WKM/ADWM/AHWM/WAIA!

Warnings: Suicide/Yandere/Death

We good? Alright.

Starting off, let’s set the stage for before WKM.

I think that because of their silent nature, Y/N was always very shy, therefore, had a very small friendgroup.  This friendgroup being Mark, who we know as Actor, and Damien, who we now know as Dark.

Actor had a slight attraction to Y/N, but he knew Damien had very strong feelings for Y/N, so he decided to back off. 

He fell hard for Celine and Celine felt the same way.

They got married and I think they were happy, at least for a little bit.

Eventually though, they started to get into more and more arguments.  Celine went to her good friend William for comfort.  Soon enough, this went from platonic to romantic, as Celine and William fell in love. After Mark found out, he was furious. In my mind, they were already in the process of getting divorced by this point. 

Mark was still incredibly heartbroken. 

Celine left and Mark was left inside the mansion on his own.

The house eventually got to him, infesting his mind, possessing him, almost.

Y/N, of course, was super worried about the dude.

They would always call him, but he would never answer. Y/N got sick of it, and soon enough they stormed up to the mansion. 

However, they could never get in. 

They never stopped trying, no matter how much Damien insisted to leave Mark alone. That was, until the invites came in. Of course, this was all part of Mark’s revenge plot. Mark never meant for Y/N to get hurt. There was two reasons they were invited to this hell show. 

One, because it wouldn’t seem natural if they weren’t there.

Two, because Mark missed them terribly. This was the perfect excuse to see them again without the influence of the house.

Of course, things don’t go as planned. 

Mark tricked William into shooting him, disguised as a russian roulette game.  In the morning, Y/N is the first one to discover their dear friend’s body. 

They investigate the premises, until Mark’s body is missing. I don’t exactly have an answer to where it could’ve gone. Perhaps after killing himself so many time trying to escape the house, it decayed, hinting at why his portrait crumbled in AHWM. 

Of course, William and Abe were super tense, and were pointing guns at each other. Unexpectedly, Mark’s ex-wife, Celine showed up. The house had not planned that, but decided she was a much better vessel than Mark or William since she was trained in magic.

The house waited until Y/N, Abe, Benjamin, and the chef were out of the house.  Taking this opportunity, the house stole Damien and Celine’s bodies. Mark now owned Damien’s body and the house now owned Celine’s body. 

The house in Celine’s body barged out with an incredible amount of magic by the time the group had gotten into the house. 

George, Benjamin, and the chef had all left by that point, as stated by Benjamin, ‘There’s only death here, now.’

Y/N, Abe, and William stayed in the house to find answers. 

Abe and William pointed their guns at each other again, this time, William shot Abe. 

In a desperate attempt to stop anymore people from dying, Y/N tried to intervene. That action costed their life and freedom.

They were shot and they snapped their neck falling off of the balcony.

They were met with Mark, saying “It’s not fair, is it?” before fading into the darkness.

Damien and Celine then appear, offering a way out. Y/N accepts, unaware of what would happen.

Damien pushes Y/N into the nearby mirror to spare them from the excruciating pain that would be included.

It’s unclear how ling they are trapped there, but most people think that it was around a century. So, that’s what we’ll go with. 

After this century has passed, Y/N was saved from the mirror by Mark, who is now in Damien’s body. By this point, Celine and Damien have already become Dark. 

When they were saved from the mirror, Y/N didn’t remember anything. They had amnesia. They were only able to recall tiny bits and pieces as time went on.

Mark used this to his advantage. The reason he felt the need to? He had moved on from Celine. This would be good, right? Not exactly. 

Not for Y/N, at least. Because now, he was obsessed with Y/N. By the time the van series starts, he is head over heels. 

In the last episode of the van series, Y/N was found asleep in Mark’s van. 

All of ADWM seemed to have a dream like quality, so because of Mark’s behaviors throughout the date and the true end, this leaves me to believe that this is just what all of ADWM is. A dream or nightmare that Y/N had while they were asleep in the van.

For the Dark portion of it, it could be one of two things. Either A, it’s the product of Y/N scattered’s memories longing to see Damien again, or B, Dark was able to communicate with Y/N through their mind.

Because of how he interacts with Y/N in AHWM, I think it’s more likely to be the first option. The scattered memories forming something that Y/N longs for, but Y/N isn’t aware that they long for him.

Through the events leading up to AHWM, it’s pretty safe to say that by this point, Mark is a yandere for Y/N. 

He’s very careful about how he goes about this adventure. Making sure that no one else can have Y/N. He doesn’t use direct violence, not wanting to scare Y/N. 

Instead, he uses mental factors. Mental factors that lead anyone that may stand in the way away from Y/N, ensuring that he is with Y/N. 

In the true ending, it’s revealed that after they save the world, he finally reveals his true feelings. Y/N most likely said yes. We can’t know for sure until AHWM 2 comes out, but it’s pretty likely that Y/N accepted his feelings.

Looking at the most recent piece that came out, WAIA, Y/N accepted a job as an interview tester for a robot. Probably to help Mark with paying for things. Since this is a solo job, Mark let it slide and let Y/N take the job.

As Y/N goes through with tested this robot, they start to notice some glitches. These glitches, however, are not just any glitches. They’re the glitches that reveal who this robot really is.

The robot contains the memories of Wilford Warfstache, AKA, William. The person who killed Y/N. Y/N, does not know this, however, due to memory loss. Little bits and pieces may have came together but nothing too big.

Wilford explains the story of what happened, saying that he was the one who pulled the trigger, but he didn’t know it was loaded. 

He asks if it was his fault.

Y/N replies with yes, since it was his hand who ended this old friend’s life. 

Wilford apologizes sincerely, the apology directed at Y/N because it was also his trigger that killed them, though they are unaware of it. 

They don’t know that they died. They can only remember faint faces from a past life. Nothing too major.

Wilford lets them go and they go home.

This is the lore including Y/N so far. We’ll just have to wait until AHWM 2 comes out to see what happens.

[peachyloveswriting]

Why warfstache is my favorite Markiplier ego

You get this because it's 2am I have no motivation and this is what I feel like talking about

Introduction

I really like the way that warfstache is portrayed. He's got this sad feel to him that makes me want to just tell him it's okay. There are many things about him that I want to discuss but first, spoiler alert.

Backstory

Wilford's backstory is a mixture between fucked up and rather sad. He was colonel, and in one of the many YouTube comments that I read he's thought to be actor mark's twin (they look the same, weigh the same, and are the same age) marks wife cheats on him with his brother (Wilford) and on an adventure gone wrong he has to use Damien as a cover up so that way Mark doesn't find out about him and Celine. Damien finds out that Wilford only used him and Wilford and Celine are exposed. Celine leaves to "live her own life" leaving Wilford to take the hit from the recoil. Mark is pissed, he festers in that anger for years before hosting the party, kills himself and then later on (from what I understand) on a basic level kills Celine and Damien as well. Wilford is beginning to go insane (how his mind finally snaps) he's scared that his friends are gone and is confused. When abe confronts him he kills him because it was an overload for his brain and therefore shoots us the viewer as well. When we come back too he suspects it's a game not understanding what happened to Damien and Cecil and goes looking for them telling them they can come out.

This is a sad concept because from what we the viewer understand, after he lost it he didn't understand why his friends left. He went insane just to keep himself from getting seriously hurt. It was so bad that he refused to believe they had actually died. It Hurts to think about that, just to think that he refused to believe they were dead and went insane over it. No one was there to console him at all, and who's to say it's not deserved for getting with his brothers wife.

What I know

In the video where we are interviewed by an animatronic warfstache, he explains to us what happened in who killed Markiplier. He says that he didn't know the gun was loaded, saying that he was sorry for what happened, it was his fault. He was referring to the viewer, or Abe, two of the people he shot in Wkm. So we know that he feels bad for what he did, so somewhere in his mind is still the him that he used to be.

Conclusion

Warfstache is my favorite Markiplier ego because he's well built, misunderstood, and had depth.

There's this almost pity that I feel for him because of the way he went insane, it just deeply saddens me to think about it so I want to help him. It's a natural thing for me to want to make him feel better, I'm a helper.

I'm posting this unfinished bc I'm tired gn

[angelivily]

What the lore of the WAIA is (Because GT didn’t do one yet)

So Mark’s Warfstache Automated Interview came out as a HUGE surprise to us. We had NO idea it was even coming, or at least I didn’t.

I remember coming home from working out at the YMCA and seeing it there. I felt like the entire world fell into my hands, and I got extremely excited.

Watching the video, it seemed as if Will had created a robot who looked like him, only creepier and more...metal, and made it into an interviewer! Maybe to make his life easier, maybe to interview more than one person at once. I have no clue.

If you look in the description, you can see that Will got this idea from a little pizza restaurant. (Freddy Fazbears)

So basically Will had us doing a LOT of little calibrations to make sure the robot was working and doing all the right things to be able to start interviewing.

First we had to listen to some numbers, which all we heard was screeching and a Windows computer notification sound. And than the fucking robot went batshit insane which scared the hell out of me.

But the thing that got me completely interested in the lore was when Will said, “this message is completely pre-recorded.” Which was NOT the case at all.

Because if you continue playing and you click the, “I Think I Heard Numbers”, and “Uh...Potato Salad”, you can hear him say “WOW Potato Salad, a real thinker you, but the test has been passed with fine colors and you’re still alive!”

1. The message is definitely not pre recorded because Will REPEATED what we said. And 2. Guys I think he was expecting us to die.

He even said, “I wouldn’t want to be in the same room as that thing.” Because the WAIA is NOT safe. When you heard him say, “Now the list of survivors...” there wasn’t any. He was expecting us to die because all of the other testers died. That’s why there are so many endings where Will has expected us to die.

And there’s also a third thing. If you continue to watch the video you can hear these simple instructions.

“Left, right, up, down, down, basement.” That has to mean something...right? Maybe it’s instructions for the next game? Or maybe it’s Yancy’s dialogue from his ending in AHWM.

But he also says another dialogue after that. “Who. Where. What...Am...I?” Than he restarts his system only to say some colors before he stops and goes, “I saw you die...”

Later on in the video, Will says that the WAIA has EVERY piece of memory and thought that he has. He placed all his shared memories with the WAIA..

Since the WAIA has all of Will’s memories... it’s going to remember everything that happened before Will became who he is today. When he was the Colonel.

We continue to play, and we click “He said...potato salad?” And than Will starts to make up a “fake interview” with the WAIA. It starts all cheerful with a colorful background and exciting music. The WAIA starts speaking normally until he says.

“How many people have you killed?” Which would be somewhat normal for Will... but if you look back to “Warfstache Interviews Markiplier”, he asked Mark the SAME question. The WAIA is obviously going back to that because he remembers it from Will’s memory.

And as we’re waiting for the next question... the lights go out and the WAIA’s face lights up. He begins to tell us a story, sort of like Candy Cadet from “Pizzeria Simulator.”

“A man goes to a party. This man met an old friend. The two friends shared some wine. The two friends played a game... the most dangers game...” WAIA stops for a moment before saying, “I didn’t know the gun was loaded...I didn’t know.”

Will didn’t intentionally kill Mark. We all knew he didn’t in the first place, but this is Mark confirming it.

The story probably goes like this.

Mark was talking to Will when he brought up the fact of Russian Roulette. Will, in his pride of being exclusively good at the game, probably remarked on how he was an amazing player and how he and Mark used to play it all the time. Mark laughed and said, “hey, how about we escape the party for a moment and go to the winery. We can use the excuse that we’re grabbing some more wine, but we can play a single round down there for good times sake.” And Will agreed. They went down, and that’s where it happened.

Did you ever notice in one of the little clip scenes when we’re drunk at the manor and we see Will with a gun? Where do you think he got it?

You see, Mark always knew the gun was loaded. Mark GAVE him the loaded gun on purpose so he could die. It was all apart of Mark’s plan so he could get his revenge. From the moment he got “killed” by Will, he immediately got his plan started. I mean, he obviously wasn’t done with his true revenge because he still needed revenge on Damien and Celine, but he had already gotten what he wanted from Will.

And than WAIA proceeds to ask, “Was it my fault?” And my broken heart at that point said “No!” Because it’s not. Will didn’t know. He was completely drunk and especially blind to the fact that the gun was loaded.

If you click no, he answers with “You can’t change the past. You can tell all the stories you want to tell. It won’t change what happened. You can’t rewrite the past. If you live in fantasy forever... you’ll lose yourself in the story.”

I think this is Will’s way of saying that he’s sorry. He can barely remember what he did (The NO ending.. ill get to that in a moment) and he still questions if it was his fault or not. The fantasy part he was talking about was how he didn’t believe that anyone had died. He believed he didn’t kill anyone, that life was just a joke. He could shoot, stab, murder whoever he wanted, and they’d come back to life.

WMLW explains this canonically because Abe was in the same experience. He got shot in the heart and he made this scenario, this fantasy, that he had been chasing Will for years... but he wasn’t... and Will was trying to break him out of that confusion so Abe could move on.

If you pick the YES ending, this is what he says, “I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done... I don’t remember who I was... I wish I did..but... I am sorry...”

He doesn’t remember who he is or what he’s done. He lived in that fantasy world where death is inevitable for so long, he forgot what reality actually was.

(I think that Mark intended us to click “NO” first, before the “YES”. So we’d get a better understanding.)

Will doesn’t remember ANYTHING he’s done. He’s lived in this world of stories and fantasy for so long.. he doesn’t remember who he was. And he probably won’t.

People paint Will to be this guy that “puts on a facade but at the end of the day, remembers and recalls everything he’s done”...However he doesn’t. That’s the truth.

Remember WMLW when he kept mistaking Abe’s name and after Abe yelled at him about how he was a “murderer”, Will remembered? He can’t remember anything specific until you specifically say it in complete detail. And even than he doesn’t remember everything.

He doesn’t remember who he was, he wished he did, but I think it’s for the best that he doesn’t. I think it’s better for him to move forward as a character, than to look back. That’s what character development is for. And I’m genuinely happy for what Will is now, than what he used to be.

And this definitely won’t be the last we’ll see of the WAIA...

Ps. If we don’t get the WAIA saying “Potato Salad” at least once in AHWM 2 ... I’m suing...

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

Same Snake, Different Skin--Wilford Warfstache x Reader x Darkiplier

Summary: To many, a broken mirror is an ill omen. It supposedly symbolizes bad luck. Seven years of torment, or so they say. Little do they know, that a broken mirror could also be someone's saving grace. Those broken shards of glass could be the only thing keeping a soul from eternal damnation.

Warnings; language, death, the usual stuff we see in Markiplier videos

Word Count; 5.4k (yep, it’s a doozie)

Notes; PLEASE READ! Ok, so, I mentioned the other day that I was gonna post a WKM/AHWM series on AO3, and I am. This post includes the first 3 chapters. Click here to read it on AO3 (link will also be at the bottom)

     "Will, please try to enjoy yourself tonight." You glanced at your husband from the corner of your eye. He stood by your side, posture perfect as always, nearly expressionless. As if he felt your gaze, he placed a hand on the small of your back.

     "Ah, that's something I'll only be able to accomplish if you're around, my dear." Even after several years of marriage, he could still make you go weak in the knees. The door to the mansion finally opened. The man, whom you assumed was the butler, greeted you both warmly and motioned you both inside. "After you." The three of you stepped into the foyer.

     "Welcome to Markiplier Manor." You felt William stiffen. In an attempt to comfort him, you wrapped an arm around his waist. He melted into your touch, pulling you closer. "Your invitations, please." William pulled two envelopes out of his coat pocket. One was addressed to you; (Y/F/N), the district attorney. The other was addressed to Colonel William Barnum. The butler smiled brightly as he took the invitations. He wished you luck at the poker table. "The other guests are right this way. I will bring your drinks forthwith," he said with a wink.

     "I'm going to have a look around. I can see Damien through there. Go have fun," William murmured in your ear. You knew how much it hurt him to be in this place, after all this time, but you also knew how much more it hurt his heart to have not seen his friends in years. You grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze before flashing him a sad smile.

     "Alright, but don't get in too much trouble without me." William chuckled.

     "Wouldn't dream of it, my dear."

     You were thrilled to have another poker night. It was a common occurrence when you were all in college, but they sort of fizzled out once you got into your adult lives. Damien smiled and waved you over when you caught his eye. He wrapped you in an embrace, squeezing a laugh out of you. "Well, long time no see, old friend! How's the new office?" You shrugged.

     "It'll take some getting used to, but I'm looking forward to the start of a new chapter in my life." You glanced around. "Where's Celine?" You had been friends with the mayor and his sister for as long as you could remember. The three of you practically grew up together. Everyone always joked that you were their long lost sibling. Damien was even the one who introduced you to William, and Celine was your maid of honor when you got married. She returned the favor when she got married to Mark. However, it wasn't long after their wedding that she cut contact with you. You were hurt, to say the least, but you still cared for her and wished her well.

     Damien sucked in a breath. He rubbed the back of his neck. "She's, uh, not coming tonight." Your brows knitted together, but Damien spoke again before you could voice your confusion. "Mark and Celine got divorced about a year and a half ago," he said quietly. You were taken aback. They seemed like such a cute couple. Damien glanced over your shoulder for a second. He smiled when his gaze returned to you. "We'll have plenty of time to catch up when I see you at the table-- as long as you don't rob me blind again." He clapped your shoulder and disappeared down a hall.

     Being left to your own devices, you aimlessly wandered through the manor. It had been ages since you were last here, but not much had changed. You were brought back to your senses when Mark gave his grand entrance and champagne flutes were passed around. Taking a sip of the bubbly drink, you knew this would be a very interesting night.

     It was a well-known fact that you weren't the best at holding your alcohol. Two or three drinks were enough to take you out, but you were having so much fun that it was nearly impossible to stop yourself from having more. It didn't help that the butler kept refilling your glass every time you turned around. You woke the next morning with your head throbbing, and you desperately wanted to throw the alarm clock out of the window. A sudden moment of panic settled in. A vague memory of William trying to fight someone resurfaced. Glancing around, there was no evidence of his presence ever being in your room. You got ready as quickly as your energy-drained body allowed. Damien turned away from his spot near the banister when he heard your door open. "Have you seen William this morning?"

     "I figured you would be worried. He's downstairs, passed out on the couch last night." You nodded, shoulders relaxing. A teasing smile flashed across Damien's face as he nudged you with his elbow. "How is our little monster this morning? Haven't seen you go that wild since our days in university." You pinched the bridge of your nose. It was too early in the morning for this.

     "Well, I'm glad somebody remembers." Damien's laugh filled the air. You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment. "Did you do a keg stand last night?" His face reddened, and he stumbled over his words. It was your turn to laugh. "Look at you, Mr. Mayor! After I find William, I expect a full list of all the embarrassing things you did last night." Damien snorted, shaking his head.

     "Yes, I suppose we'll have to catch you up. I'll see you at breakfast."

      The search for your husband began. You went down the grand staircase and followed various corridors. The mental map you had of the place had grown fuzzy, and you couldn't quite remember what part of the manor you were in. You stumbled into the lounge with a huff. This was nowhere near where you needed to be. You walked around the couch and froze. Mark was laying on the ground. His eyes were open, and his skin was a sickly hue. You couldn't bring yourself to believe the obvious. "Mark?" Your voice was hardly above a whisper. You knelt beside him, grabbing his wrist. No pulse. Mark was dead. As if on cue, lightning struck. A man you had just met the night before-- Abe, the detective-- waltzed into the room, exclaiming about the odd weather. He stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.

     "My God, there's been a murder!" Lightning struck once more. Soon after, the butler and chef filed in. Both men shouted about the crime scene. Powerful lightning stuck when the word 'murder' was uttered, causing you to flinch every time. Abe's focus zeroed in on you. The detective grabbed you by the collar, yanking you to your feet. "What the hell happened here?" he snarled. You opened and closed your mouth. Words couldn't be found to explain the situation. Your mind was still wrapping around the fact that your friend was laying on the floor dead. "In case you haven't been paying attention, there's been a bit of a killing, and you're my prime suspect. So, you better get to explaining the what, when, where, and why you happen to be here, upon this man's death!"

     "I don't know what happened! I just found him like this." Your voice cracked, and you felt the familiar sting of tears filling your eyes. Abe narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the butler interrupted. He brought up the fact that the body was ice cold. Mark had been long gone by the time any of you had stumbled upon his body. The detective grumbled under his breath before finally releasing you.

     "Alright, you're off the hook... for now." Abe suggested that the two of you should team up, working together to solve the murder. You reluctantly agreed. Two minds were better than one, and you wanted to get to the bottom of this. You helped Abe string caution tape around the area, making a point to avoid looking at the body. You then sat on the couch and held your head in your hands. You regretted ever begging William to leave home and have a weekend out. Your head snapped up at the sound of someone approaching. Damien looked around the small group gathered in the lounge, confusion etched into his features. The butler hesitantly explained what had occurred.

     "A murder? Who?" Everyone held their breath for a moment, avoiding the mayor's gaze. He looked over at you and realized how disheveled you were. "Who is it, (Y/N)?" All eyes were on you, now. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, not wanting to give in to the gravity of the situation.

     "Damien, it's..." you sighed, finally looking him in the eye, "it's Mark." He took a step back, shocked by your answer.

     "Mark... killed? Who would do such a thing?"

     "That's what me and my partner are trying to figure out." Abe motioned between you and himself. He glanced between everyone in the room. "I believe the killer is right here, amongst us... in this very house. For now, we're all stuck here. While me and my partner investigate, the rest of you need to return to your rooms, hunker down, and pray to God you're not next to be murdered." Lightning flashed outside the windows. Everyone in the room slowly dispersed. Before Damien left, you grabbed his wrist.

     "Check on William for me." The mayor patted your hand but couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye.

     "Yes, there are... important matters I need to discuss with the Colonel."

~*~*~

    You were crouched beside the detective, intently listening as he explained how the body temperature gives an estimated time of death. Abe came to the conclusion that Mark was killed around 1:30 in the morning. You tried to focus as he went into further detail about taking the temperature of a corpse and how it's best to do it rectally, but the muffled shouts coming from a nearby room held your attention. "Why don't I go poke around, look for some clues?" The detective seemed a little surprised at your suggestion. He quickly regained his composure.

    "Oh, yeah, good idea, partner. You go see if you can find more about the narrative. I've got a few more tests I need to run on the body."

    You crept closer to the room the voices were coming from. You were almost positive the ones inside were Damien and William. To confirm your suspicions, you cracked the door open. You could barely see Damien standing in the middle of the room.

    "...I am taking his matter very seriously."

    "Don't give me that horse-shit! I know you hated him, but goddamn it! He reached out to you."

    "Oh, what do you want from me?"

    "I want you to care!"

    “Just because I'm not weeping like a child doesn't mean that I don't care." You frowned. It had been a long time since you had heard either of them this upset and angry, especially at each other.

    "Come talk to me when you pull your head out of your ass." You hardly had time to pull yourself out of your thoughts when Damien came barreling out of the room. He stopped inches away from colliding with you. His brows knitted together.

    "Damien, what hap-"

    "Excuse me," he huffed. The mayor brushed past you and disappeared down the hall. Confused, you stepped into the room. William sat in an old, wicker chair towards the back of the room. His face was turned away from you, but you could see he was pinching the bridge of his nose. You made your way towards him. He sighed before raising his voice.

    "Damien, I don't-- oh." His voice softened upon realizing it was only you. William looked you up and down, seeing right through the front you were holding. He immediately jumped up from his seat and wrapped you in his arms. You practically melted in his embrace. Tears started to pool in your eyes. You tried to fight them back, sniffling, but they slid down your cheeks anyways. William shifted to hold your face in his hands. He gently wiped the tears away with his thumb. You gave him a watery smile.

    "Sorry for getting so emotional all of a sudden." William scoffed, pulling you back into a bear hug.

    "Nonsense! There is nothing to apologize for, my dear." He was quiet for a moment. You could pretty much see the gears in his mind turning. "This has been an emotional day... for everyone." Even though he didn't explicitly say it, you knew this was his way of admitting that he was upset about Mark too. You pulled him closer, leaning your forehead against his. His mustache quirked as a smirk formed on his lips. You narrowed your eyes, wondering what mischief the man was up to now. "Do you think that 'detective' can find the killer? Honestly, if he were any more stupid, he'd have to be watered twice a week." You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled in your chest. William's face brightened at your response. "There's my favorite smile!" He peppered your face with light kisses, causing you to laugh even more.

    "Alright, enough!" you exclaimed in between laughs. "To answer your question, no, I don't think he can do it on his own. That's why I'm helping him." William stepped back. Confusion etched into his features.

    "You're really helping him?" He rolled his eyes when you nodded. "Come on, (Y/N)! We all know how Mark died!" When you crossed your arms, waiting for him to explain, William launched into a long and dramatic recount of how he believed Mark died. He waved his arms around and gave a probably offensive impression of Mark. William believed that he caused his own demise, drinking too much and stumbling down the staircase. "...and that's what happened. Probably, anyway. If you need to corroborate this story with anyone else, go ahead and investigate the entire house." You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little hurt. You didn't understand why he was suddenly shutting you out, just because you were working with the detective.

    "Will..." He stepped back and sat in the wicker chair, turning his face away from you.

    "Go on, I'll be here when you're done," he sighed. You were about to say something else, but the butler called your name from the doorway. You hesitated before following him.

    The meeting with the butler was largely underwhelming, and the chef wasn't much help either. All you learned from your chat was that Mark had hired Abe to do a background check on his staff. You were making your way out of the kitchen when you spotted Damien pacing outside. Thinking back on his argument with William, you decided to check on him. The sound of the door opening caught Damien's attention. He quickly made his way over, apologizing for the argument you overheard. "I know I'm supposed to be a leader in this scenario, but I can't help but feel lost. I don't have any answers, and I... just want to be alone." You put a hand on his shoulder.

    "Damien, no one is expecting you to have all the answers or be the perfect leader, especially not right now. You just lost one of your childhood friends. It's completely normal to feel lost. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. You can't help anyone if you don't take care of yourself first." A smile quirked the corners of his lips.

    "Thanks, little monster. Don't know what I'd do without you." He patted your hand, and the smile was gone almost as quick as it came. "I'm going to go walk the grounds, see if I can process all of this. Send the Colonel my way next time you see him. We need to talk."

    Mark was gone. No, not in a metaphorical sense where his soul had left for a better place. His body was gone. Poof. Vanished. Nowhere to be found. Yep, this day just couldn't get any worse. You were pacing through the lounge, trying to keep yourself from dissolving into hysteria. You had passed the point of 'freaking out' and didn't know whether you wanted to curl into a ball and cry for hours or launch yourself into the void. It didn't help that the detective started discussing the possibility of the corpse reanimating with the butler and chef. When an arm draped across your shoulders right as lightning flashed, you nearly screamed. "Bully! Quite a storm out there. What are you doing in here, huddled in fear?" William gave your shoulders a squeeze. A goofy smile was plastered on his face.

    "We have a zombie problem!" the chef exclaimed.

    "Ah, homo necrosis, the most dangerous game," William said with a dramatic flourish. He looked over at you and winked. You pursed your lips. Whenever you were upset, he always cracked jokes to try to make you smile-- even in serious situations, such as this. Needless to say, you weren't really in the mood for it. William cleared his throat at your lack of response. "Well, I'm off to the grounds to see if I can catch a whiff of the old bag of bones." He left the room, laughing at his own joke.

    Abe thought it would be best if the two of you stayed close for the remainder of the investigation. After all, you never know who you can trust. The two of you discussed possible motives while picking for clues in Mark's room. The place looked as if it had been ransacked. You stepped carefully, not wanting to mess with anything that could be considered evidence. A table in the corner of the room caught your eye. There were several framed photographs scattered about. They were all pictures of the gang; you, William, Damien, Mark, and Celine. One, in particular, caught your eye. The front glass was shattered, and the picture inside was only of William. "Weird..."

    "Did you find a clue?"

    "I don't know. Take a look at this picture-" you were interrupted by William waltzing into the room.

    "Say, detective, I need to borrow your friend here." Abe raised a brow, glancing between the two of you. Assuming it was spousal issues, he quickly assured you that he could continue the investigation on his own. "Bully! Take a walk with me." William linked his arm with yours, ushering you outside. "A breath of fresh air will do you good. You've been on edge since the body disappeared." You ran a hand through your hair.

    "Yeah, it's... been a long day." William stopped walking. He watched you intently, while you glanced around the pool area.

    "Is that all?" You bit your lip, not wanting to sound conspiratorial. He sat down at the water's edge, motioning for you to do the same. "You don't have to be afraid to talk to me. You know that."

    "I'm just worried. What if Abe's right? What if one of us really is the murderer?" You flinched at the sudden flash of lightning. "I mean, how far into the investigation will they let us go until trying to stop us?" William took both of your hands in his. There was an intensity in his eyes you weren't sure you had ever seen before.

    "At our wedding, when I vowed to never leave your side, I meant it. I will not allow any harm to come to you." You pulled one of your hands free and held out your little finger.

    "Pinky promise?" William smiled, wrapping his finger around yours. He pulled your hand closer and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

    "Pinky promise." Questions about the shattered picture frame pushed their way into your mind, but you did your best to quell them. Out of all of the chaos that had occurred, you were given a moment of peace. You were sure that more dismay would soon peer over the horizon. But this was the eye of the hurricane. For now, it was all quiet, and you wanted nothing more than to enjoy this moment with your husband.

~*~*~

    The manor originally belonged to the Barnum family. It was where William grew up. His parents were wealthy, providing everything their son could ever desire. There were many wild parties hosted here when you were all younger. William was proud of his heritage, but he didn't let his family define who he was. Despite the fortune of his parents, he was incredibly humble and a hard worker. That was one of the things you loved about him. However, his world shifted when his parents passed. William had just returned from deployment when the news arrived. Old scandals his parents were involved in resurfaced. Everything he thought he knew about his family was a lie. That was when Mark entered the scene. He was just starting to make a reputation for himself in the acting world and used his newfound wealth to purchase the Barnum Manor. Mark's time in the mansion inflated his ego, or so you assumed. He never let William hear the end of it. The once happy home that you all had great memories in began to feel stuffy. Something about it changed, and it made you uneasy. The heavy atmosphere that seemingly moved into the manor with Mark only amplified, and it made your time here suffocating. It was having effects on everyone.

    You were snapped out of your thoughts when William suggested you further investigate the staff. He then ran off to explore the old golf course, resembling a child running to unwrap gifts on Christmas morning. A sad smile crossed your features. The manor was no longer the childhood home he remembered.

    "Have you seen the Colonel?" You jumped when Damien appeared behind you. You groaned, placing a hand to your forehead.

    "Damn it! He just left. Sorry, Damien, I completely forgot to tell him that you were looking for him." The mayor waved you off.

    "No matter, would you accompany me? There is something I'd like to discuss with you." The two of you walked across the patio. Damien voiced his concerns about the innocence of the detective. While anything is possible, you didn't really believe he was a suspect. He shared too much personal information, and you didn't pin him to be the master manipulator type. Damien nodded, halfway agreeing. He froze for a moment. His eyes widened. "Mayhaps our counting skills aren't as good as we assumed them to be." A knot formed in the pit of your stomach.

    "You think..." you trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

    "It's possible, that in the shadows of this manor, unseen to any of us, lay hidden... a murderer." Lightning danced across the sky. Almost simultaneously, a gunshot sounded from inside. You and Damien wasted no time, running into the manor. The darkness that consumed the manor was suffocating you once more, and it had apparently infiltrated the minds of those inside. William and Abe were having a standoff. The two men had their gun sights trained on the other. Both were shouting profanities. Damien tried to diffuse the situation, but the tension only escalated.

    "This psycho tried to shoot me!"

    "That's a bald-faced lie!" William went on to explain that he was merely doing some target practice when the detective approached. They continued to argue, waving their guns in each other's faces.

    "Please, put the guns down before somebody else gets hurt!" you tried to reason. William glanced in your direction, while Abe paid you no mind.

    "No, he knew I was onto him, so he tried to wack me off before I could finger him... as the murderer!" You held your breath, unsure of what to do. They were going to rip each other's throats out if someone didn't intervene. Damien was standing beside you, too shocked to do anything. You started to step forward, but he grabbed your wrist.

    "Don't, you'll get hurt," the mayor pleaded.

    "What would you rather happen, Damien? They kill each other?"

    "I won't be called a murderer in my own home!" William snarled at the detective. The front door swung open with enough force to startle everyone.

    "Stop!" You blinked, hardly able to believe the sight. It was Celine, of all people. "What are you doing?" Abe put down his weapon. William kept a tight grip on his gun but slightly lowered his defenses.

    "Celine?"

    "What are you doing here?"

    "Hold on, who the hell is 'Celine' and how do you know her?" Abe looked between you and William. Everyone ignored his question.

    "Madam, I'm afraid you came at a very inopportune time." The butler wrung his hands, not wanting to be the one to tell her. The chef, however, had no empathy.

    "Yeah, Mark's fuckin' dead!" That's when everyone jumped into the conversation. All of you blurted out that he had been murdered and his body was missing. Someone mentioned the zombie theory again, much to your dismay. The group moved to sit around the poker table, where everyone could lay out all the evidence that had been gathered so far. You tried your best to focus, but your mind was too foggy. It was hard to keep track of anything they were saying. You didn't snap out of your stupor until you realized that Celine was pointing at you.

    "You've been awfully quiet through all of this..." Everyone sitting around the table jumped on the bandwagon, questioning your innocence as if you had anything to do with the murder. You were confused. She didn't seriously think you were the killer, right? William took your hand in his and glared at the others. It was almost as if he dared them to speak against you again. Celine glanced at your joined hands before closing her eyes, taking a breath. "But I know I can trust you. I sense that you have a far greater part to play in all of this. (Y/N), will you help me find an answer."

    "Of course." Abe's jaw dropped.

    "Are you serious? No, there's no way I'm going to let you drag my partner off to their very likely death!" he shouted, slamming his hands on the table. The butler and chef both agreed.

    "Guys, it's ok. Celine's been like a sister to me for as long as I can remember. If she says it's safe, then I believe her." Celine smiled at you, and William nodded.

    "They're right, you know. Celine can be trusted. There's no reason anyone should doubt her." The woman in question suggested that the group could wait outside if they were that uncomfortable. Abe reluctantly agreed. Celine stood from her seat and nodded for you to follow. The two of you were climbing the staircase when Damien approached. He kept calling out to Celine, begging her to stop. He believed she was not in the right headspace to be dealing with the occult, not that she should be dealing with it in the first place... Taking a deep breath, Celine faced her brother.

    "There's more to this world than you could ever hope to imagine. I've just had my eyes opened to a small portion of it." She turned on her heel and left without saying another word. Damien's shoulders slumped. He wished you both luck before retreating back down the stairs. When you finally managed to catch up with Celine, she had already finished setting up whatever ritual she had planned. A large tapestry with odd symbols sewn into it was draped across the table. There were also candles and a crystal ball delicately placed in the center. Celine instructed you to sit in the chair across from her. She laid tarot cards in between each of the candles. Once more, your mind felt muddled. You could hardly keep your eyes open. Celine leaned forward, carefully watching your every movement. "Don't fight it. Trust the process, and find the answers." Dark spots flooded your vision, and soon everything faded to black.

    You were having flashbacks, but they were... different. You knew they were your memories. You just couldn't help but feel as if you were seeing them through someone else's eyes. Then something strange occurred. You were standing near the garden, the chef and Abe by your side. Everything was hazy. You couldn't clearly see the face of the newcomer approaching. His laugh was warbled, nearly sounding inhuman. It made you feel sick. "Employers come and go! Some die, some don't." The scenery around you lurched. It felt as if you were falling through the floor. You couldn't stay here any longer. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see. You needed to get out.

    You startled in your seat, gasping for air. Celine was obviously annoyed. She leaned forward, her eyes boring holes into your head. "What happened? Why did you stop?" she yelled. You blinked up at her. You were still recovering from whatever dimension she had flung you into. "Well, did you see something or someone?"

    "Shovel," you blurted. Celine raised a brow at you. You covered your face with your hands, worried that you were about to vomit. "Grumpy man. Garden." The witch scoffed.

    "That doesn't answer anything! You need to go back, now!" She slammed her hands on the table, emphasizing her point. You flinched at the tone in her voice. Abe swung the door open, marching into the room with Damien.

    "What the shit is this?" If she wasn't angry before, she was now. Celine yelled for them to leave. She claimed that the two of you weren't done. Damien looked down at your disoriented form. Concern flashed across his features, then his face darkened.

    "Celine, I think this is quite enough. Look at (Y/N)! They can barely hold their head up!" Celine slammed her hands on the table once more, raising her voice even louder than before.

    "It's enough when I say it's enough!" Damien shot Abe a look. The detective nodded and helped you to your feet. He walked you into the hall, asking you a million questions. You shook your head. The last thing you wanted to do was relive that hellhole. Abe sighed, pulling a small notebook and a pen out of his jacket pocket. You quickly scribbled a drawing of what you saw-- a man with a shovel. The detective furrowed his brows. He called in the chef and butler, quizzing them on what it could possibly mean. You leaned against the wall and listened to their conversation. You were still determined on helping the investigation, and your vertigo was beginning to fade.

    Damien and Celine rejoined the group as Abe and the chef began arguing about whether or not George the groundskeeper could be a suspect. Damien had enough and finally snapped. "This is getting us nowhere. The two of you just go outside, and talk to this George, and be done with it!" Abe spluttered for a moment.

    "Hold on a second, you're not coming with us?" The mayor twisted his cane in his hands, a nervous habit of his. He glanced between you and his sister.

    "I need to stay here to help Celine and (Y/N), whom, may I point out, is clearly in no condition to be going on a manhunt." Celine whirled on her brother, quickly reprimanding him. She claimed that she did need anyone's help and especially not his. Damien's jaw dropped, and he looked to you. You pushed away from your spot on the wall and squared your shoulders.

    "Damien, I appreciate your concern. I really do... but I'm an adult. I know my capabilities, and I'm going to help finish this investigation." Damien's jaw slackened. You could tell that he was hurt. He threw his hands in the air.

    "Our friend is dead!" Everyone cast their eyes downward. A heavy silence hung in the air. Damien sighed. "I'm sorry. I just... need answers to all of this. I already lost one friend today." His voice was low, almost on the verge of falling apart. "I don't want to lose another."

    "Fine, but I have to stay here," Celine conceded. Damien turned his attention to you. The pain in his eyes made you want to stay, but you couldn't.

    "I'm sorry. I have to help them." He nodded, slowly turning away from you. He and Celine walked down the hall, back into the small room. Your heart ached, but you knew this was what needed to be done. Abe snapped you out of your daze, saying it was time to go. Before leaving the manor, you turned to the butler. "Have you seen William?" He gave you a reassuring smile.

    "He appeared tired and went back to your room. If you'd like, I could let him know you inquired." You nodded, and the butler disappeared around the corner.

~*~*~*~*~

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[solarpunksoftie]

None Of This Makes Sense - The Tenuous Reality Of The Markiplier Cinematic Universe (and maybe whats in the box)(big spoilers)

So i tried to make this post last night and then tumblr made a fucky-wucky all over itself and my post was lost as sacrifice to the hellsite. So I’m writing it again and saving it this time. This is gonna get really long, but I think I’m onto something here. @markiplier you aint gotta say shit but i hope you see this.

So I was watching the Wilford MOTHERLOVING Warfstache Full Breakdown last night, and Mark started saying some things about the Markiplier Cinematic Universe(MCU) that got the gears turning in my brain. He laid down some “rules” of this universe that I think are SO important to understanding Heist and the Box.

“The Viewer, in this universe... is a character. That’s something that cannot be... forgotten in anything that I do for these.”

The Viewer isn’t just a viewer, they’re a CHARACTER. These are distinctly different concepts. A viewer typically exists OUTSIDE the world of the medium. A CHARACTER, however, exists squarely within the medium, and I don’t think Mark means this like Oh Its First Person And You Make Choices And They Talk To You I think this expands to mean that the WAY we experience the videos is the way the other characters are experiencing what happens. Look at the Scientist video: 

“Haven’t you two noticed time being funny lately?”

“You haven’t noticed things going unnaturally fast? Things happening out of order for one another? Strange coincidences? Bizarre memories of things you haven’t even done yet?”

Everything she mentions, we the viewer didn’t notice on our own because, to us, that’s just the way videos are. There’s time skips, edits, we have the ability to hop between videos. Without all this, videos would be unwatchable. The main thing here is that these qualities are not only experienced by us, but by all characters. We also see this in Wilford MOTHERLOVING Warfstache when the tazer transitions happen. Wilford notices a transition happened, but is so used to these weird events that he rolls with it. Noticing the edits and the confines of the story is what leads Abe to crack.

“[In SOMA] the main character thought he was human, in his mind. Reality SHAPED itself to be that thought, but on closer observation it turns out he was a machine when he looked in that mirror... What’s the truth and what’s the lie? That concept is very interesting to me.”

“Reality is not gelling, but his brain is making up why it makes sense.”

Mark likes the idea of characters battling with their perception of reality, and what reality IS. Mark says, in his explaination videos again and again, if it doesn’t happen on screen then it didn’t happen. I don’t think he’s just talking about death of the author here. I think, in his videos, this is the reality. I think this is very literal for the MCU. There is no appearence of the Detective between WKM and WMLW, and so there are no events that ACTUALLY happened.

“Its as if he was told what he needed to know, but not what it was that he knew. He knows the concept of what he needed to do, but if pressed for the details of it, it all falls apart.”

So why does this matter for Heist? Well, all of the MCU are strictly confined to whats on the screen. The expanse of the story is what is directly in front of us. We go bed in the back of the Jeep, and seconds later we wake up to Mark in an apron making us a camp breakfast. We ASSUME things happened in between, our brains roll with it and chuckle at the joke but we don’t question where any of this came from because its the nature of the medium. In the universe of the videos, though, NOTHING happened between those edits. We are told what must’ve happened, but the reality of it is there was NO time in between. 

I think this starts to tell us what’s REALLY in the box, and I’ll go even further to posit that we’re told/shown whats in the box in 3 endings. Ending 6, Ending 16, and Ending 31. 

In Ending 6, the Scientist identifies the box as the source of all the “anomalies” which are really just edits and the nature of the medium. Upon destroying it, we are shown, briefly, the entire map of A Heist With Markiplier, before showing up before the heist begins. Mark has no idea why we’re here, and instead of continuing into the heist again like in other time travel endings, he prompts us to go into A Date With Markiplier. Credits Roll. The Box was destroyed and the story never happens.

In Ending 16, we meet Wilford, the man himself, and he starts asking us how our adventure has been, across all the videos and endings. Wil is FULLY aware of the medium at this point, and how you play into it. He then says

“And if you need more time to think of your answer, feel free to pause time. I think your magic box is useful for something like that.”

and then the Youtube video pauses. This is more than a fun jape of “oh haha this is on a computer on the internet” cuz I don’t think Wil is referring in such knowledgeable terms about our computer/phone/tablet. I think he’s specifically referring to The Box. The Box gives us control, The Box lets us hit pause, and rewatch things, and watch multiple endings.

And finally Ending 31. Darkiplier meets us and talks to us. He acknowledges that its likely we’ve seen his monologue more times than he could know about, that Mark likes to spin stories for us. He thinks we’re trapped in the stories just like he is, so he gives us a code that leads us to the bloopers and behind the scenes. He pulls back the curtain for us, as if saying “look, this is all fake”

The Box contains A Heist With Markiplier. The Box IS the Story. THATS why it contains whatever the story needs it to. THATS why destroying it makes the heist never happen. THATS why it “gives” us control and messes with time; because it is literally all the videos, all the events that happen after stealing the box. 

This is absolutely the kind of abstract concept nonsense Mark would pull, and I’m feeling confident about this. If you read all of this, please share your thoughts, i wanna flesh this out as much as possible. I feel this in my brain, but explaining it is like trying to explain the color yellow; I feel ill equipped.

[orange-waterfalls]

What Did You Do?

Platonic Wilford Warfstache x gender neutral!reader

@insertadumbnamehere ty for the request!

A/N: ok, so, this one takes place before, during, and almost immediately after WKM. I figured that "The Warfstache Affair" would take place pretty soon after it, so yeah. Wilford is referred to as William and The Colonel. You two are besties. Rated... T for cursing. Uh,,, I finished this during study hall instead of studying so... Appreciate my work. Inform me on any mistakes please.

Asks and submissions are open!

Word Count: 2.2k

--

You sat in the living room of your house, waiting for your friend to show up. William had a knack for being late to everything, you knew this and have accepted it by now. You were browsing through movies, wondering what you guys should watch. Nothing about Safari's or about a war. You might trigger something. He'd been through too much.

You heard your door unlock and creak open. You'd given him a key at this point in your friendship. You looked up at the Colonel and smiled. He wasn't looking at you.

"Hey, Will," you greeted. He nodded to you, a small smile on his face. It seemed forced.

"Evening," he responded. You tilted your head slightly.

"I uh… was looking for a movie. Anything in mind?"

"No… not particularly…"

"Ok. Well I found some feel-good movies, or we have some horror if you'd--"

"I got a letter," he interrupted. You raised an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat. "It's… it's from Mark…" you scrambled to your feet, walking over to him. He was holding a letter with "William J. Barnum" written on it. You knew about his… falling out with the actor. It was pretty bad, from what you heard. Over a girl as well. You thought that to be a bit immature, but you didn't need to tell him that.

"What does it say?" You asked.

"I don't know. I haven't looked yet."

"Why not?"

"I wanted to wait until I was over here," you squinted at him in confusion. "In case… I read something I don't like…"

"Well… open it!" You urged. He tore the top open and took out a piece of paper. He read it to himself. You didn't need him to read it out loud to you, as you looked over his boulder to read.

"I've… been invited to Markiplier Manor for… a party…" he explained. You stepped away from his shoulder and stood in front of him.

"Well?" You asked.

"Well what?"

"Are you going?"

"No! Why would I?" He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Because… he's your friend--"

"Was my friend, Y/N. Was my friend…" he spoke quietly. You rolled your eyes.

"Ah, yes. It must've slipped my mind that you two behaved like 3rd graders…"

"Hey!"

"... And haven't talked to each other in years because of a girl." The Colonel stepped towards you.

"Celine is not just a girl…" he said in a warning tone.

"Yes, yes, I know. She's a woman. And you don't talk to your best friend because of her!"

"He's not my best friend, you are!" Your face heats up a bit. "And anyways, I didn't stop talking to him because of that, I stopped talking to him because he was a selfish prick!"

"And you didn't even try to talk it out? That seems a bit immature, Will…"

"Oh, please. Like you're mature…" you frowned at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You aren't exactly the most fair person yourself."

"Oh, really?" You raised your voice. "Care to elaborate, William?"

"Why, yes," he growled. "You're needy, you're selfish, you complain so much when you don't get everything you want--"

"What are you talking about?"

"Sometimes I don't want to hang out with you, Y/N!" He yelled. "Sometimes I just want to hang out in my own home by myself, but you just want me to hang out with you at every chance you get. And I do not want that!"

"Why not?!" You yelled, your voice cracking. You didn't have many friends, William was one of the few you had. Of course you wanted to hang out with him. You didn't have to be doing anything just… being near each other was fine for you. You could admit, you were a bit clingy.

"Sometimes you remind me of him," he sighed. You didn't think it was a compliment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked. At this point, William had already lost his temper, and was now just spitting whatever popped into his mind.

"It means the only difference between you and him is that he has enough money to pay people to stick around! All your friends just feel sorry for you!" He snapped and realized his mistake all too late. You stared at him with a hurt look, feeling the tears glazing your eyes. You had trusted him with one of your insecurities. You had let him in. And now he was using that against you.

"Y/N…" you spun away from him. "Y/N I didn't mean…" he reached out to touch your shoulder, but you jerked away. He pulled back. You were letting the tears spill and quietly crying. Soft enough that he could tell you were trying to hide it, but loud enough that he heard you anyways. He put his arm back at his side.

"I'd like you to leave," you said, your voice wavering. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Y/N-"

"Leave, Will!" You demanded. He sighed.

"I'll… go to the party… we'll talk later, okay?" He said. You didn't respond. He sighed and left your house, leaving you to cry on your own.

--

It had been about a week since you'd seen or heard from the Colonel, and you were ready to talk. You thought he was just giving you space since he knew how upset you were. You texted him, "hi, Will. I wanted to apologize and say that I'm ready to talk whenever you are." And left it at that. You didn't think much about the fact that he didn't respond, until the next day.

Two policemen had shown up at your door.

"Can I help you?" You asked, slightly nervous.

"Do you know a William J. Barnum?" They asked. Your heart stopped.

"Um… yes…"

"We'd like to ask you a couple questions about him." You opened the door for them to come inside. You invited them to sit down on your couch, and made some coffee since it was early.

"So…" you began, nervously. "What's up with Will?"

"He went missing," The cop on the left said.

"Oh…"

"After he presumably killed 5 people." You froze. William? Kill people? No… no, he couldn't… he wouldn't…

"Excuse me?" The cop on the right called your attention. You snapped up to him.

"Huh?"

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Oh… um… a couple days ago… he told me he was going to Markiplier Manor for a party… we had a fight… I haven't heard from him since then…"

"I'm sorry." The left cop apologized. You nodded at him. "Do you have any idea of where he could be?"

"Uh… no. No, I don't think so…"

"Do you have any idea of what could've cause him to do this?"

"Well… he has some anger issues… and, uh, he doesn't really like Mark… they had a… falling out a while ago… over a girl…"

"A girl?"

"Yes. Celine…"

"Celine? Sister of the mayor Celine?"

"Yes?"

"She's one of the people who've gone missing since the party. Along with Mayor Damien, and a District Attorney." You widened your eyes.

"W-What about the other two?"

"Hm?"

"You said he presumably killed five people? What about the other two?"

"Oh, uh… Mark's Butler told us that Markiplier was dead, but his body had gone missing. And uh, we found the body of a detective in the Manor. He was shot in the chest with a 357 Magnum." You frown. "Any recollection of that?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah… he takes his Magnum everywhere…"

"Mm…"

"But… I never thought he'd…" you felt the tears burning your eyes as they threatened to fall. The left cop sets a gentle hand on your arm.

"I'm sorry about this. I know it's hard, especially if we don't even know for sure. But we need you to work with us," he consoled. They also you a couple more questions before standing up to leave.

"Here's the police station's number. Call if you get anything from him, okay?" The right cop said. You nodded, wipond your eyes with the back of your hand. They thanked you for the coffee and left. You sat on your couch, sighing. William…

"Damnit, William, what'd you get yourself into?" You mumbled and got out your phone.

--

William sat in the empty room, music playing on a boombox in the corner. He was thinking, and the beats of 80s songs were apparently helping with that.

Why were the police after him? He didn't do anything. He didn't kill anybody. He knew he didn't. I mean… the District Attorney was living proof of that. Abe was… fine. Right? Of course he was… if they were alive, why wouldn't he be? He started to laugh a bit. This was so… ridiculous! It was mad! He loved it!

There may have been something wrong with his head. Watching the person you killed come back after seven hours can do that to a person…

But he wasn't crazy. He wasn't. He knew that for a fact.

bzzt

He turned his head to the phone he sat on the boombox and raised his eyebrows.

bzzt

"Now, who could that be?" He said to no one in particular. He leaped to his feet and waltzed over.

bzzt

He looked at the phone, checking to see who it was. The contact name was "N/N". You had changed it to your nickname a while ago, saying that if he had a nickname, you should have one too. He smiled widely as he saw it.

bzzt

He picked up the phone.

"N/N! Hello, how are you? It's been a while, huh?" He said, his voice all over the place.

"William, what did you do?" You asked bluntly.

"Well, I missed you too…"

"William. What did you do?"

"Not much. I had some cake the other day and-"

"William..." You growled. He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what you were so upset about. Then, he laughed.

"Ah, so the police got to you. I didn't do anything." He claimed.

"Don't lie to me, Will," you warned.

"I'm not! I would never!"

"Then why do the police think you killed five people?!"

"Five people? No!" He paused. "...maybe two or three…"

"What?"

"It's fine, they came back! Well… one of them did…"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He grunted in frustration.

"I shot them in the chest. I sat right there next to the body for several hours. Then they just got back up. Right there in front of me."

"... okay… William-"

"I was thinking of changing my name, actually! What do you think about "Wilford Warfstache"?"

"I think we shouldn't talk for a while." You said quickly. William's smile dropped and he froze.

"What?" He asked softly.

"I think, until things calm down, you should lay low for a while and… we shouldn't talk."

"But… but I like talking-"

"I know, Will. I like talking to you too. But this is serious. You're in trouble for some really bad things. You should try not to make it worse, okay? Keep quiet and don't cause trouble." You commanded. "It'll be safer for the both of us if we don't stay in contact. You know my address, you have a key, I don't plan on moving anytime soon. If you really need to come here you can."

"Y/N…"

"I'm gonna miss you, Will." Your voice cracked as you spoke. William felt tears pricking at his own eyes.

"I'll… miss you too…"

"Goodbye…"

"Wait!"

"What?"

"I'm sorry… about before…"

"I know… I am too…"

"... I love you…" you chuckled from the other end of the line.

"I… love you too…" Then you hung up. William stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. You were his best friend. What was he supposed to do now? Who was he supposed to have a movie night with? Who was he supposed to talk to?

He looked over to his previous spot on the floor, where he's left his gun. What was one way he could let you know he was doing good without contacting you?

He smiled and started giggling.

"Time to cause some chaos!"

--

It had been three weeks since your call with William. The police contacted you occasionally, asking if you heard anything. You always said no. You knew William, and he wouldn't do anything like that on purpose. So, you didn't tell the police anything.

You worried about William. He didn't seem like himself on the call. He seemed… loose. More… careless. That was worrying.

You sighed as you opened your front door, having just bought groceries. You sat the bags in your kitchen and turned on the TV to have some background noise as you cooked. You flipped through the channels until something on the news caught your eye. You went back to it

"--a gruesome series of murders committed by a man who calls himself "Wilford Warfstache". The police think this man may be the fugitive William J. Barnum, who is allegedly killed the actor Mark Fischbach, the mayor of the town, the mayor's sister, a detective on the case, and a district attorney." the newswoman explained. You gaped at the TV. "He is responsible for killing a woman, her husband, their neighbor, their dog, and possibly, their baby. If you see this man, call the number on screen right away." They showed a picture of William with his mustache dyed pink. You buried your face in your hands and swore.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me…"

[wwoww-au]

The Hunt for the Time Wand

[read on AO3]

Dark knocked a couple of times on Abe’s office door before opening it slowly. The head of the department looked up from his desk with his usual semi-concerned smile. Dark wasn’t too happy about being pulled away from their work, but Abe had insisted it was important.

“You wanted to see me?” Dark asked, closing the door behind them. 

“Yes, please, take a seat,” Abe said, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. Once they had done so, he continued. “I know your last… partnership… didn’t go so well, but—”

“I’m not working with him again,” Dark interrupted, wringing the cane in their hand. Just thinking about their day shadowing Mare made their heart race. Despite the fact that almost two months had passed since then, they still had nightmares about that day. Luckily, it seemed that Mare had recently decided to start avoiding Dark as well. Strange behavior for the detective, but Dark wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“You won’t be working with Mare,” Abe reassured them. “The Committee thought it might help if you were partnered with one of our best Trackers.”

“Trackers?” Dark echoed. They’d heard the term bounced around the Department a handful of times, but no one had ever bothered to explain it to them before.

Abe nodded. “Trackers use their magic to track down magic items, whether the item has been stolen, recently discovered, or even used as an accessory to a crime. Their work is vital to the Department. The only reason you haven’t been assigned one before is that the Time Wand is nearly impossible to track.” Abe pulled a file out of a stack on his desk. “Luckily, we think one of our Trackers might just be up to the task. He’s already managed to pinpoint its current time and location.”

Dark placed their cane to the side and opened the file, letting out an exasperated groan when they saw its contents. They recognized immediately the man smiling flirtatiously up at them from the photo. Illinois Jenkins’ photo winked at them as they made eye contact. Dark quickly closed the file with a glare. 

“I gather you’re already familiar with Illinois?” Abe guessed, taking the file back.

“That’s a word for it,” Dark grumbled. “If leaning over me while I’m working in the Library and constantly flirting with me is ‘familiar.’” They scoffed. “Do I really have to work with him?”

Abe nodded and smiled apologetically. “He’s the only one who will be able to track down the Time Wand.”

Dark dragged their hands down their face. “Fine,” they groaned. “I’m assuming we start tomorrow?”

“Nope, you start today,” Abe corrected. “He’s waiting for you in JJ’s office. You’ll leave as soon as you get there.”

Dark thought for a second, leaning back in their chair. “So if I don’t make it to JJ’s office until tomorrow, we don’t start until tomorrow?” They looked up at Abe with a smirk.

“Dark, please.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Dark huffed, pushing their chair away from the desk. “This better work.”

.

.

Illinois was in the middle of regaling JJ with a likely exaggerated story when Dark entered. JJ looked grateful to see Dark, and Illinois quickly noticed them as well.

“Well if it isn’t my good friend Dark!” Illinois exclaimed, gesturing broadly as he turned to face them. “Long time no see.” The Tracker tipped his wide-brimmed hat.

“First off, we’re not friends,” Dark corrected, “and you saw me two days ago.”

“Much too long,” Illinois teased, giving them a wink. “You know you missed me.”

“I really didn’t,” Dark muttered. To JJ, they added louder, “Where are we going?”

JJ looked grateful to have a chance to speak. “Australia, the 1930s,” he answered. “I doubt you’ll be seeing many other people though, so no need to change into anything else. Unless you want better hiking clothing.”

Dark shook their head. “Let’s just get this over with.”

.

.

It was raining when Dark and Illinois stepped through the portal and into the forest. The trees towered over them but provided little cover from the downpour. Illinois fished a compass out of the satchel on his hip. He waved it vaguely over the both of them, and the rain began to bounce off of an invisible cover over their heads. Illinois tapped the compass a couple more times and a gold dot appeared on its edge. He squinted at the dot and frowned.

“Looks like we’ve got a lot of ground to cover,” Illinois said, turning in the direction the dot pointed. “We’d best get moving now before it gets dark.” There was a mischievous twinkle in the Tracker’s eye as he looked down at Dark. “Get it? Dark? It’s your name, get it?”

Dark tried not to groan. “Let’s just start walking,” they grumbled.

They let Illinois lead the way, pushing aside the undergrowth in their path with a wave of his hand. Dark had to admit, he was a talented wizard. Being able to maintain two spells at once while still being able to use his magic to clear the path ahead was a far off dream for Dark. They were sure they could improve with practice, but practice was not something they had time for. Maybe once they caught Wilford.

Even though Illinois was able to get rid of the undergrowth, the walk was difficult. Dark resorted to using their cane to help them walk, which was a surprisingly rare thing for them. The rain only made things worse, not to mention the spell Illinois was using to keep them dry was only meant for one person, meaning they had to stay uncomfortably close together to keep from getting drenched. At one point, Illinois abruptly stopped, grabbing Dark by the arm. "We have to stop, this rain is making it too hard to do anything," Illinois shouted over the heavy rain. "I think there's a cave around here, we can take cover there."

"How do you know there's a cave nearby?" Dark yelled, quickly following after as Illinois abruptly started walking in a different direction.

"I'm a Tracker, remember?" he said with a smirk. He magically pushed aside a small thicket and entered into a small clearing, where sure enough there was the entrance to a cave. "I'm the best at what I do. After you, Dark." They pushed past him, jogging as to quickly get out of the rain and away from the flirtatious adventurer.

There was nothing remarkable about the cave, it was empty except for some debris that had blown in from the forest outside. It was filled with the sounds of rainwater dripping in from the ceiling and their footsteps echoing through the tunnels. Illinois was quick to follow them into the shelter, dispelling the water from his clothes with a clap of his hands. "This is the perfect place to wait out the storm!" He smiled, obviously congratulating himself for finding the cave in the first place. "I'll build us a fire to keep warm. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay warm by-"

"Don't even finish that sentence." Dark glared at him. They attempted to magically rid the water from their own clothes, but didn’t get nearly as dry as their companion. Illinois simply shrugged and began gathering sticks and leaves off the floor of the cavern. They turned around, looking towards the back of the cave. It stretched so far back, they couldn't see how far it went. They stood there for a moment, taking a couple steps forward towards the tunnel.

"Easy there, tiger," Illinois warned as he watched them from his position, hunched over a makeshift campfire. He snapped his fingers, a small flame igniting at his fingertips. "Don't go wandering off by yourself, now. It's easy for anyone to get lost in caves like these. Well, except for me, of course." He smirked, lighting the fire. 

"I think I hear something," Dark muttered absently. They squinted, trying to make out anything that lay beyond the shadows of the cave.

"Probably just an echo, don't worry about it." Illinois patted the ground next to him. "Come sit by the fire."

"No, it's not an echo. I definitely hear something. It could be Warfstache, I'm checking it out.” Without waiting for an answer, they started walking forward into the cave. They heard Illinois sigh behind them, and soon he appeared at their side with a makeshift torch made from a stick from his fire. 

"You're quite the adventurer, aren't you?" Illinois said in an attempt at small talk. "Do you always run headfirst into possible danger like this?"

"With my job, it's kind of a requirement." They stopped walking as the tunnel split off in two paths. They shushed Illinois as he started to talk, listening close to hear the sound they heard earlier. "This way," they pointed to the left tunnel, quickly rushing into the tunnel.

"Whoa, slow down!" Illinois walked cautiously behind them. "You've got to be careful in caves like these."

"What are you talking ab-" They came to a halt, hearing a loud crack come from below them. The ground shook before completely collapsing, taking Dark with it. They yelped as they plummeted into darkness.

"Dark!" Illinois rushed forward, skidding to his knees beside the edge of the hole. "Are you okay down there?" He held up the torch, illuminating it.

Dark lay at the bottom, gripping the back of their head. "Yeah… I'm fine."

Illinois let out a sigh of relief, before immediately snapping back into his ever-so-charming personality. "I knew you'd fall for me eventually." He smiled and winked at them.

"Do you ever shut up?" they grumbled, pulling their sore body off the rocks. "Just help me out of here." 

"Okay, okay… I'm coming down." Illinois leaped down, landing gracefully next to them. He took their hand with his free one, pulling them to their feet. He smiled at Dark as they set to work pulling their cane from the debris, when his eyes suddenly darted to the side. He turned, holding the torch up to the other side of the hole, revealing another cave entrance. He fished into his bag, pulling out his compass to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, the gold dot on its face pointed in that direction. "Well, would you look at that! Your slip-up just got us closer to finding the Time Wand!"

"I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not," Dark huffed, glaring at him.

"It was supposed to be a compliment. How about I give you another compliment instead?" Illinois leaned in close. "You are the most handsome and/or beautiful person I've ever met."

Dark stared at him, unamused. They sighed, "Let's keep going."

.

.

The tunnel was cramped, not even enough room for them to walk side by side. Illinois took up the front, holding his torch ahead of him as he led them through the cave. Every so often, the tunnel would split off into multiple paths, but Illinois trekked ahead with absolute certainty. After a few minutes of silent walking, he spoke up. "So, Dark, how'd you land such a good case?"

"Huh?" They didn't look up, too busy trying to keep from tripping on the rocky terrain.

"You know, the Warfstache case." He peered over his shoulder for a moment. "I've been campaigning the Committee for them to put me on the case for who knows how long. And I know I'm not the only one." Dark was well aware of how many people wanted the case, their mind wandering to a certain music wizard. Illinois continued, "So, how'd you do it?"

"Why do you care?"

"Just making small talk," he answered innocently with a shrug. "Who wouldn't want to know how you managed to land a career-making case like this? No offense, but finding a treasure like the Time Wand seems like a lot for an inexperienced wizard such as yourself."

Dark ignored the dig at their inexperience; they were used to getting remarks like that from nearly everyone they met at this point. But something about his words made them stop in their tracks. "Treasure?" they repeated, staring at his back. "Is this all just another treasure hunt to you?"

"No, of course not." Illinois turned to face them, flashing his signature smile. "I'm here to help you find Warfstache. But you can't deny the thrill of uncovering one of the most important relics to wizardkind. Not to mention the fame and fortune you could earn once you bring it back to the Committee-" He held the torch up, finally seeing Dark's scowling face in the firelight. "Come on, don't look at me like that."

“This is a serious case about a dangerous criminal and all you care about is the thrill of it? You don’t know what I’ve had to go through trying to track him down, attempting not to get shot or thrown off a cliff or burnt at the stake, and you’re just going to barge in here to get a shot at the fucking fame and fortune?” Dark’s voice rose steadily, red sparks starting to dance across their fists, knuckles white as they held tight to their cane.

“Well, hey now-“ Illinois attempted to interrupt, raising a hand in a placating manner as he eyed the loose magic coming off of Dark. 

“No, you shut up!” Dark yelled, glaring at Illinois as the magic started to spark more dangerously, some sparks leaping off of them and hitting the floor. “I am sick and tired of you dumb sycophants marching around going on about how wonderful working on this case it, it’s such an opportunity, aren’t I lucky? I’m not doing this for fun, I’m doing this because I have to bring Wilford motherfucking Warfstache to justice!”

Dark's words echoed through the tunnels. The red magic exploded off of them, colliding with the cavern walls and cracking the rock. Dirt and pebbles began to fall from the ceiling. They could barely process Illinois shouting "Watch out!" before they were shoved backwards, barely missing being crushed by a falling boulder. 

Dark regained their bearings as the dust cleared. Rocks now filled the thin tunnel, forming a blockade between them and Illinois. The adventurer was coughing, before clearing his throat and shouting "Are you alright?" His voice was serious, without a hint of humor or flirting.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm alright," they muttered, moving towards the blockage. They lifted a smaller rock from the pile in an attempt to make a way through, but it only caused the pile to shift dangerously towards them. They heaved a great sigh. "What are we going to do?"

"Go back down the tunnel, to the last crossroads we passed," Illinois shouted. "The tunnels should all let out eventually. I'll go on ahead and meet you outside."

"Are you sure?" They looked back down the tunnel they came from, a sinking feeling filling their stomach as they looked into the empty blackness.

"Absolutely!" They could hear the confident smile in Illinois' voice. "I'll see you on the other side, partner." They heard the sound of footsteps fading into the distance.

Dark sucked in a breath, clasping their hand closed. They squeezed their eyes shut, focusing all their energy to their hand. Slowly, they opened their shaking fingers, squinting as a small orb of magic filled the cavern with bright, red light. They took their first steps forward back down the tunnel. They focussed on the light in their hand, both to keep the cave lit and to keep their mind from wandering to wild ideas of what might lurk beyond the shadows.

.

.

The tunnel had been sloping up for some time now, giving Dark hope that they would find the exit soon enough. They quickened their pace, but only for a moment as the mysterious sound from earlier echoing through the tunnel made them stop dead in their tracks. The noise only grew closer and closer. They began to back up, ready to run at the first sign of danger. Suddenly the noise was right in front of them. They held up the glowing orb in their hand to illuminate the whole cavern, finally spying the source of the noise.

A small, chittering monkey.

Dark chuckled to themselves, realizing how frightened they had been by such a silly little thing. They kneeled down in front of it, holding the light out as the monkey cautiously approached with eyes transfixed on the bit of magic. "Hello there, little guy." Dark smiled at the animal, just about relaxed from the tense journey through the tunnels, when it hit them. JJ said the portal was taking them to Australia. There weren't any monkeys in Australia. They looked down at the creature again, only able to mutter, "Well, you're a long way from home, aren't you?"

The monkey simply batted at the magic light a couple times, before a faint whistle rang out through the tunnel. The monkey immediately turned and ran back towards the source of the noise. Dark stood up, briefly contemplating the ridiculousness of what they were about to do before taking off after the monkey. 

As they ran, they realized that the tunnel was slowly getting brighter and brighter. They extinguished the magic orb, shaking their hand as they went to help with how cramped it felt after holding the spell for so long. It wasn't long before they finally spied the opening of the cave, the literal light at the end of the tunnel. 

They skidded to a halt as soon as they made it outside. It must have stopped raining during their adventures down in the cave, as sunlight now gently poured through the treetops above. They squinted as they looked around, eyes not yet adjusted to the bright light outside the cave. They were now in a forest clearing, the tranquil scene completely cut off from the rest of the woods by thick foliage. The soft grass underfoot practically glittered in the sunlight, still wet with raindrops from the earlier storm.

In the center of it all was the jarring sight of Wilford Warfstache. He sat in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by monkeys. The monkey from the cave was perched on his shoulder, playing with the bright pink mess that was Wilford's hair. He cradled a smaller one in his arms. On his right, two monkeys fought over the contents of an open, metal lunchbox; and on his left, a single monkey batted at the pieces of a travel chessboard.

Dark approached the bizarre scene slowly, both out of confusion and out of hope to not scare off the thief. As soon as they got close, Wilford looked up from the baby monkey in his arms and smiled at them. "Hello there, friend! It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"It really hasn't," Dark scoffed. In the last month they'd cornered him five times, the fourth time being only a few blocks from Crime Department headquarters. 

"Ah well, time tends to get jumbled for me every now and then." He shrugged, gently placing the small monkey next to the one at the chessboard, intently watching the two of them knock over with the wooden pieces as if he were watching a professional chess match.

Dark let out a resigned sigh. "What the hell do you think you're doing out here? And where did these monkeys come from?!"

"Oh, I'm having a picnic! As for the monkeys, I'm not quite sure. I opened a portal looking for my lunchbox and they all fell through. They make decent company, though." He reached into the lunchbox, pulling out a piece of fruit and holding it out to Dark. "Banana?"

"No thanks," they said, staring down at the thief with dismay. "You're under arrest." 

Wilford laid back in the grass with a dramatic sigh. "Every time with the arrest talk. It gets so boring after a while."

Dark sputtered, stomping forward and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt with their free hand, pulling him up just enough to get close to his face. "Boring?! I'm arresting you, you idiot! This isn't just some game!"

"If it isn't a game, then why do I have so much fun every time I see you?"

Dark let out a yell of frustration. While they stood there, trying their hardest to get the severity of the situation through to the grinning madman, they spotted movement in the tree on the edge of the clearing. They turned to face it, still clutching to Wilford's shirt.

Illinois appeared into view, expertly cutting down the dense plantlife with his magic. When he spotted Dark, his features quickly lit up with that signature smile of his. He jogged right up to them, glancing between them and Warfstache.

"I'm so glad you made it out okay!" he said, patting Dark on the shoulder. "And you've managed to catch our man! If you weren't a detective, you'd make a fine Tracker."

"Thanks," they grumbled.

Illinois turned to Wilford with a smug grin. "So, this is the man who's been stirring up so much trouble in the Committee."

"That's me," Wilford confirmed, and held out a hand. "Wilford Warfstache, pleasure to meet you."

"The name's Illinois Jenkins." He returned the handshake. "You're much more polite than the Committee files make you out to be, Willford. Much more handsome, too."

"Are you serious right now?" Dark looked to Illinois with a mixture of disgust and confusion. They shoved Wilford towards Illinois. "Fine, if you're going to be flirting with the criminal, then you get to watch him."

"Don't mind if I do," Illinois winked at Wilford, looping their arms together.

"Oh, I like this one," Wilford smiled. "Hey Dark, you should bring your friends more often."

"He's not my friend," Dark scoffed at the two.

"He's not?"

"I'm not?" 

"No, I mean, I-" They sputtered before letting out a strangled, aggravated sigh. They ran a hand through their hair in frustration. "I'm not doing this right now. I'm just going to call JJ to take us back to the Crime Department. Then I can finally be done with this case."

"The Crime Department?" Wilford echoed, his shoulders sagging with exaggerated disappointment. "Do we really have to go to that dreary old dump? I'd much rather go someplace more fun, like a carnival. Or a good old-fashioned disco; I haven't been to one of those in a good while."

Illinois smiled and patted his arm. "Usually, I'd love to spend more time with someone as handsome as you, but I'm afraid we have to complete our assignment and turn you in."

Dark shook their head. As much as they hated the Tracker's incessant flirting, they were consistently impressed with his ability to keep a cool head throughout this strange adventure. His confidence never wavered from when they were lost in the caves to now, as he managed to keep Wilford of all people occupied with his charm. Maybe this partnership with Illinois would work out after all.

They turned their attention to their watch, turning their back to the two men. They needed to muster up all the energy they could to cast the communication spell, and they really couldn't have those two and their outrageous personalities distracting them.

Illinois huffed as he watched Dark set to work on the communication spell. This was the part of the adventure he always disliked. He loved the thrill of the chase, but once the chase was over there was nothing left to do but file reports and wait around for the next assignment. He glanced over Wilford, who was telling a nearly incomprehensible story about the last time he was at a disco while Illinois spaced out. As he talked the Tracker looked the thief up and down, his heart skipping a beat when his eyes caught a flash of gold within his coat.

"Is that it?" Illinois said, pointing at the wand.

"Is what what?" Wilford stared at him for far too long before blinking and following his hand. "Ah! That's what you're talking about. Yes, this is that wand everyone's always yelling about." He pulled the wand out of his coat with a flourish, twirling it in his fingers.

"Can I hold it? I've never seen a Core Wand in real life before." Illinois could barely contain his excitement, eyes glued on the artifact in front of him.

"I don't see why not. You seem nice enough." Wilford plopped the wand into Illinois’ outstretched hands.

Illinois stood awestruck for what felt like an eternity. He never imagined that he could be holding such an immensely powerful artifact like the Time Wand, let alone have it handed to him in such a nonchalant way, by the very person who stole it. Once he regained his composure, Illinois began to examine the wand. He could practically feel the powerful magic radiating off the centuries old piece of wood. He turned it over in his hand, admiring how the intricately carved details of its gold handle shimmered in the afternoon sun. After thoroughly examining the wand's details, he readjusted his grip to hold it by the handle, even posing with it like a child playing with a wooden sword. 

Wilford started to fidget the longer Illinois held onto the wand, tapping his foot on the soft grass. "You've had your fun. Now can you please give the wand back?" he asked, his nerves obvious as he spoke.

Illinois looked down at the wand in his hand, the gold reflecting in his eyes as he cracked a deceptive smile. "No. I think I'll hold on to this for now. I'm sure the Committee will be happy to see it once we return to the present."

In an instant Wilford threw himself at Illinois, nearly toppling him over. He grabbed at the wand, trying desperately to wrench it out of the Tracker's hands. "Give it back! I need it!" he cried, now fully engaged in a desperate game of tug-of-war with the dangerous artifact. "You don't understand- I still haven't found them!"

"Found them?!" Illinois yelled in confusion, his voice strained as he struggled to regain his hold on the wand. Even as he focused on the fight, he was acutely aware that Dark had joined the fray, grabbing the thief from behind in an attempt to pull him away from the wand. "Who could you possibly be trying to find?!"

"I don't know, I just know they're important! Now give it back!" Wilford yelled. In the scuffle, he managed to wrench the wand downwards, golden magic erupting from it and colliding with the ground. The magic swirled, eventually forming a portal into an unknown field. The whimsical, pink bubbles that normally adorned the surroundings instead bubbled violently, like the surface of a pot of water left boiling for too long. 

The force of the magic making contact with the ground was enough to knock back the three wizards. Wilford, who miraculously still held onto the wand, was the first to recover from the blast. He took one glance at the other two, locking eyes with Dark as they began to pull themselves up from the ground, and gave a quick wave before diving head first into the portal. 

"No!" Dark yelled. They threw themself at that thief, but met nothing but empty air. The portal was gone, the only remnant of it being there was a few pink bubbles which soon popped out of existence too. They silently stood in the middle of the clearing for only a moment before unleashing a string of frustrated curses at the top of their lungs. 

"Damn," Illinois said.  Dark whipped around to see the Tracker leisurely pulling himself into a sitting position. He grabbed his hat off the ground, brushed some dirt off of it, and repositioned it on his head. "I thought I had him!"

"You… selfish prick!" Dark stomped over to the Tracker, yelling down as he simply lounged in the grass with the comfort of someone on vacation. "If you hadn't been so focused on your little treasure hunt, we'd be back at the Department with Warfstache behind bars! But you just had to try and take the wand for yourself!"

Illinois stared up at them, his smile slowly fading. He pulled in his legs, hugging his knees and leaning his chin on his arms. "You're right. It's my fault Wilford got away. I'm sorry."

Dark's anger subsided as they locked eyes with the Tracker. They sighed, running a hand through their hair. They took a seat next to the Tracker, gently tossing their cane onto the grass beside them. Now that they were sitting, they could feel all their injuries sink in. Their entire body ached. They suspected that they would find themself covered in bruises from not one but two times falling onto the rocks. 

"Are you going to call JJ to portal us out of here?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute," Dark said, laying their head in their hands.

"Y'know, Wilford mentioned trying to find someone using the Time Wand." Illinois looked over at the detective. "Do you know what he meant by that?"

Dark was silent, gently rubbing circles over the scarred part of their face. Finally, they spoke. "No idea. I’ve been chasing him for a while now, and… I’ve never really seen him with another person, at least never for very long.”

"It's still a lead, maybe you can look into it when we get back to the Department."

"Maybe," they said. "Speaking of, I better contact JJ. I'm sure Abe is anxious to hear about how this all went."

Illinois hummed, leaning back and leaning his head on Dark's shoulder. "You know, we don't have to call JJ right this moment," he said, looking up at them with a twinkle in his eye. "This is a pretty, dare I say, romantic location. I mean, the place is already set up for a picnic. What do you say? How about a date?"

Dark stared at him, barely repressing a laugh. They really wanted to be mad, but something about his neverending flirting seemed funny in this somber moment. "That's never going to happen," they scoffed, pushing him off of their shoulder. 

Illinois flopped over onto the ground, dramatically clutching at his heart. "You wound me, Dark," he sighed through a grin. "I'll win you over one of these days."

"You'll keep trying," Dark said, rolling their eyes. They stood from their seat with a groan, offering a hand to Illinois as he grinned up at them. "Come on, let's get going."

.

.

"- and then, the cave collapsed, leaving Dark and I seperated. But, thanks to our impressive tracking skills, we were both able to find our ways out of the caves. By the time I arrived, Dark had already cornered Warfstache-"

Dark sat in a chair in Abe's office, listening as Illinois enthusiastically recounted their adventure, plus a few embellishments. Their eyes darted between the two men; Illinois, with his foot propped up on a stack of criminal case files as he gestured wildly to illustrate his story, and Abe, who watched the Tracker with chin propped up on folded hands, every so often glancing at Dark in disbelief whenever Illinois detailed his own heroic deeds.

"It all came down to an epic fight, Dark and me versus the thief. I managed to grab hold of the Time Wand, but alas, Warfstache was able to overpower the two of us and escape through a time portal." Illinois leaned back in his chair as he finished relating the day’s events.

"I see," Abe said, with an eyebrow raised. He turned to Dark, who could see he was only barely keeping a straight face. "Is this all true?"

"More or less," they shrugged.

"Then that's all I need from you. Thank you, Illinois." Abe gave the Tracker a polite smile, gesturing to the office door.

Illinois tipped his hat. "Always happy to help," he said, shooting a wink at Dark before leaving the office.

As soon as the door closed, Abe turned his full attention to Dark. "So," he said, drumming his fingers on the desk. "How was working with Jenkins?"

Dark thought for a moment, twirling their cane with one hand. "It wasn't completely horrible," they said after a moment. "Illinois was actually pretty nice after I got to know him."

"Aw, look at you making friends." Abe smirked, but it was clear that his sentiment was genuine. 

"We're not friends," Dark said without thinking. They paused, before continuing. "Not yet, anyway. I'd have to try talking to him when I'm not working- or, at least not in a life-threatening situation like today." Abe nodded in understanding. "That reminds me, I have a new lead on where to find Warfstache next."

Abe sat up in his desk chair. "What is it?"

"During the fight with Warfstache," Dark began, noting Abe's look of disbelief. "Yes, we did actually fight him, but it was far less epic than Illinois described it as. Anyway, while we were fighting, Warfstache said he needed the Time Wand to find someone."

"Did he say who it was?"

"No. He doesn't know who he's looking for, just that they're important to him."

Abe sat back in his chair, stroking his chin in thought. He then spun around in his chair, standing to pace around the room, eyes darting around the conspiracy wall that took up the office. "Years of searching and never once has this thief mentioned looking for anyone," he mused. He paused in front of a particular section of the wall, where clippings of police reports noting Warfstache's known accomplices were pinned up alongside glossy photos of the suspects.

Dark stood from their own seat, moving around the desk to stand next to Abe. "I have an idea about who he may be talking about, but I'm not sure. I'm going to stop by the old bookshop tomorrow. There might be some clues the Department overlooked."

"Are you sure?" Abe looked at his friend. He could sense their anxiety spike as soon as they mentioned the bookshop. "You haven't been back there since-"

"I know," Dark cut him off. They knew what he wanted to say, but they couldn't bear to hear it said out loud. "But if it could mean catching Warfstache, I have to go."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I should be fine. Thank you, though." They decided it was time they took their leave, and began to walk out of the room.

"Dark?" Abe said just as they reached for the office's doorknob. "You know I'll always be there for you, right? You don't have to do everything alone."

"I know," they said, shoulders drooping slightly. They didn't even look back at their friend as they opened the door and stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind them.

.

.

"Dark, over here!" Dark was halfway down the front steps of Crime Department headquarters when they were pulled out of their own thoughts by a certain adventurer shouting their name. Illinois stood at the bottom of the steps, waving with one hand, the other propped on his hip.

"Illinois? I thought you left already," Dark quickly padded down the stone steps to meet up with the Tracker.

"I was about to head home, but I wanted to talk to you about something first," he said.

"I swear, if you're trying to ask me out again-"

"No, not that. But the offer is always on the table," he winked. He then cleared his throat, straightening his posture. "I just wanted to talk about today. Even though it wasn't perfect-"

"That's an understatement," Dark crossed their arms, noting the fact that they were still aching from their tumble onto the rocks earlier that day. They’d have to check by Henrik’s to make sure they hadn’t gotten anything worse than bruises.

"You're right, it was a disaster," Illinois chuckled. "But I think you and I make a great team. And I want to help you catch Warfstache, honest. What I'm saying is, with your permission, I'd like to ask the Wizard Committee to assign me to the case again. So what do you say, want to continue the adventure?" He opened his arms in a welcoming gesture, his normal confidence melted away to reveal his genuine intentions.

Dark averted their eyes. They weren't sure how to respond. They appreciated his offer, but they'd spent years committed to this case as their sole mission, and accepting a practical stranger's help would be a difficult thing to do. "It'll be difficult convincing the Committee to let you take the case again," they said after a moment. It wasn't quite a refusal, but not an acceptance either. "We'll just have to see."

Before either could say another word, there was a shout from the top of the stairs, drawing both’s attention. Dark recognized the voice instantly, and they wanted to disappear.

Mare made his way quickly down the stairs, stopping just a few steps above Dark and Illinois. Illinois didn't seem as bothered by the other man's appearance as Dark was, but they still noticed the slight defensive shift in his stance towards them as he recognized their discomfort.

"Relax," Mare grumbled, glaring at Illinois. Turning to Dark, he added, "You know, handcuffs tend to come in handy when you've caught a criminal." Before Dark could say anything, Mare shoved a pair of shiny magic handcuffs in their arms. "You should keep a pair on you at all times."

Dark wasn't quite sure what to say, or whether they should be insulted or not. "I- I had handcuffs," they stuttered. They wanted to kick themselves for forgetting though, and for having to have Mare of all people remind them.

Mare crouched down to look them in the eye, a patronizing smile on his face. "Well then use them next time, dumbass."

"Well, now, don't blame them," Illinois spoke up, placing a hand on Mare's shoulder. "I was the one in charge of holding Warfstache."

"You" — Mare harshly pulled his shoulder away from Illinois as he straightened himself — "should know better. You'd think two idiots would be able to catch one thief, but I guess two wrongs don't make a right."

Dark opened their mouth to spit back a retort, but a wink from Illinois told them he'd handle it.

"Come now, Mare," Illinois said smoothly. "Harsh words can ruin a pretty face like yours."

Dark couldn't tell if the red spreading across Mare's face was from anger, or if the flirting had actually gotten to him, though they were pretty sure if Illinois said another word, he'd be met with a fist to the face. They took a step back, not wanting to get caught up in whatever happened next.

To their surprise, however, Mare suddenly relaxed, taking a few deep breaths. The detective glared at Illinois and then at Dark, and then, with a muttered, "Piss off," shoved past them both. Stunned, Dark watched Mare stride across the Department plaza.

Illinois was first to break the silence. "What was that all about?" he said with a chuckle.

"Who knows," Dark huffed, and shrugged. "He's always looking for ways to make my life a living hell. He's been doing it less lately, at least."

"Maybe he's finally coming around to see what a truly amazing person you are."

Dark scoffed, both at the compliment and at the idea of Mare starting to like them. "Yeah, right. He probably just got bored." They fiddled with their cane, unsure of what else to say. "I… should get going. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"I understand. If you come to a decision about working with me again, let me know." Illinois nodded. "See you around, Dark."

And with a tip of Illinois' hat, the two went their separate ways.

[oc-character-development]

A Heist With Markiplier Theory: every video on Mark’s Channel or at least WKM, AHWM and ADWM is set in a different parallel universe:

Spoilers for WKM, ADWM and AHWM. (Also it’s a little messy and all over the place so sorry in advance):

Okay, so I’ve been watching AHWM all of yesterday afternoon and spent all night last night compiling a theory and finding evidence for said theory . This might be the most obvious theory and I might come up with another theory as well (seriously, my WKM theory was like 17 pages long by the end of it so I didn’t post it so I pay attention to details) but, the theory is, all of Mark’s videos are part of a Multiverse and that there are multiple versions of Mark, and this split in universe was caused by what happened in Who Killed Markiplier and is somehow linked to the artefact you stole in the heist (but I haven’t really figured out that part yet so if anyone has any suggestions id appreciate and be grateful for the help 😊):

Evidence:

In the ‘scientist’ path, it is discovered that time is different, something has happened to time, and the possible futures, and pasts, and parallel universes are colliding (which honestly reminded me of Doctor Who series 4 😂) which also links into WKM and Wilford Motherloving Warfstache with the whole things not being quite what they seem and the cause of that is seemingly you.

The ending to the scientist ‘for the greater good’ path it is discovered that you aren’t the source of the shift in parallel universes but the box is. It gets destroyed, and you get sent back to your original timeline to before the heist was even committed with a nicer Mark than the one we had during the heist (but he clearly wasn’t too bad since, he was clearly upset if you tell him the truth of your zombie encounter and that you’ve been bitten by zombie Tyler)

Now what completely took me off guard, was this Mark then turns to you and says ‘now, how about we go on that date?’ Which was clearly a reference to ADWM, therefore placing the events of AHWM before ADWM if you want a timeline. and this is what set my theory off.

Also, just on a different note, as we are talking of timelines and different Marks, literally just before I got that ending, I found ending number 31, the last ending, the one with the link to WKM. And you of course have a chat with our friend, Darkiplier, who we know is Damien after the events of well, ‘Damien’ (sporting a white suit, instead of his dark suit) and he mentions something about different faces of Mark but being the same man and he advised you not to trust Mark. So he clearly knows something is going on especially through the text messages you get sent:

He also questions our ability to remember whether we have met dark before. Canonically, the last time we saw Dark (or Damien and Celine at that point) was when we were in Markiplier Manor. If we are from alternate timelines and they are merging together, that means that we likely wouldn’t remember WKM because that potentially was not our original timeline. (IDK what this point is really).

Wilford also makes an appearance and gets shouted at by Katherine again for almost shooting us 😂 (call back to Markiplier TV) after we are transported to the ‘timeline’ involving an Interview with Markiplier (callback to the video where Warfstache interviews Mark) however he knows about the Artefact, so either we steal it in that timeline or Warstache can jump through timelines and knows we did it through that, which is feasible and likely because of his abilities in MLW and WKM.

Anyway back to more concrete evidence. It would explain why we don’t see Benjamin, The Chef or Abe but we have endings with Dark and Wilford and get characters played by the actors (Mick playing Warden Murder-Slaughter, Robert playing multiple characters but mainly the police guard who’s actually nice but also scary like the chief in WKM and Tyler is a zombie in the zombie outbreak ‘timeline’) and they actually have some characteristics of their characters in WKM but are different people. (Warden Murder Slaughter has Abe’s tendency to say things that can also mean something inappropriate, or strict temper/can’t trust anyone mentality and the police guard is obviously scary like all of Roberts previous characters but is actually quite nice like the chef in WKM).

Also, just a theory inside a theory, it was stated in another ending (the ending where you don’t split up when Mark is dangling from the hole and you fall and he uses the parallel timeline watch thing to escape) there is a ‘timeline’ where AHWM is a movie or TV show (just like ADWM) as we get a glimpse of actor Mark again although not as dramatic as ADWM but it is definitely him which (most likely) makes that parallel timeline we landed in the WKM timeline. Which also might explain how Dark knows those events happen because of Damien being friends with Mark (and probably watched his films) and he must have figured out from Damien’s memory that there had to be a parallel universe where all this is true.

Also, there are numerous mentions of parallel timelines in different routes to the scientist endings (most noticibly the route were you don’t let go of Mark in the cult ending and you end up falling down a hole).

So where am I going with this?

There are at least 4 main actual Marks in the MCU (Markiplier Cinematic Universe hehe, Thanks MatPat for that name, he was brilliant in the video and actually creeped me out a little 😂). And I propose that they are:

Actor/Asshole Mark

AHWM Mark

ADWM Mark

Markiplier

And so each of those videos each exist in their own parallel timeline or universe. But have the same Y/N because time is being weird. But what caused this, or at least where it all started was is the House in WKM in 1920s/30s (according to Tyler’s Benjamin The Butler Stream on Twitch, which also could be explained how they exist in the modern day, time and the state of reality is a mess), maybe Actor Mark used the artefact to help him with the ritual to enable his plan in WKM.

Also, just briefly jumping back to Dark. He fits in this theory. Because, through the fact that he hates Mark and he obviously thinks that Mark is the same in each timeline or body he’s in. So he’s going from each timeline to stop Mark/take over his channel. Also just bringing in ‘Damien’ here, but actor Mark made Damien the villain of the story, and Damien willingly gave into this and he knows what Mark is really like. The reason why I’m bringing all this up is because I think, Dark is just one person, there is one dark and one Wilford, unlike Mick and Robert’s characters (see evidence above) and is travelling through parallel timelines to stop each Mark and trying to save the viewer from him but because this is Mark’s ‘story’ he is the villain.

Anyway that’s my really messy theory that doesn’t make too much sense when writing it down (I’m terrible at explaining things and making sense when I write stuff down) but I hope people liked the theory! And it’s just a theory....and I’m probably wrong 😂... also is it just me that wants MatPat to do a theory on AHWM now... I mean, he was in it after all.

And now I’m going to focus on the fact that JJ might be making a return in Jack’s video tonight as it is his birthday (also, perhaps Anti as well... it is Halloween after all so anything can happen) being part of both Jack and Mark’s community really is tough at this time of year, where we are constantly being set on fire 😂😂

[d-ama-ien]

Gem AU- The Plot (WKM)

Part Three- The Fallout

After meeting with George only to come inside and find a corrupted Celine, things quickly go to absolute shit. Somehow they manage to shut the corrupted gem in a locked room, and the staff of the palace wisely flee before there’s any chance of Celine escaping. While worried about Damien, there’s a huge blank spot when the District Attorney tries to see him in a vision, leading to the assumption that he’s been shattered. In their attempts to look into the future, their visions lead them to Abe’s office, where William finds them and goes on a rampage, assuming that Abe is the reason for the shatterings and corruption. In his stand-off with William, Abe is fatally cracked, and in an attempt to get the gun from William, the District Attorney is also cracked, and they poof when they fall off the balcony.

In the upside-down, Celine explains how Mark cracked Damien’s gem and left Damien with only a small shard, where Mark reformed using the rest of Damien’s gem and fusing with the shards of his own gem. Celine was corrupted by an attack from Mark, who then finished the job and shattered her after the others locked her up. In a vision when she died, Celine saw that the District Attorney fusing with her and Damien’s shards could give them all a second chance, even if it’s as a fusion instead of as individuals. Somehow their shards are in the upside-down, so the District Attorney can fuse with them without attempting to reform.

The three successfully fuse, but something is slightly off. They form a normal Garnet, despite being three gems instead of two. The District Attorney realizes that with a cracked sapphire and sapphire shards, it seems like two whole gems instead of three broken gems. But, there are three individual gems, and the fusion is highly unstable because of it. When faced with the mirror, the District Attorney is booted out into the mirror surface, which stabilizes Damien and Celine’s fusion, but makes it impossible for them to ever be brought out of the mirror since they no longer have a gem to return to. They realize that requesting Damien and Celine un-fuse would make it impossible for Damien and Celine to ever reform again, so they sacrifice themselves to stay in the mirror while Damien and Celine keep their gem as the core of the fusion.

Since the fusion is unnatural and still unstable, it isn’t an independent person like most fusions, Celine or Damien can individually control the fusion. Celine initially takes control, but keeping Mark out of their mindscape wears her down until Mark is able to lure Damien away from their mindscape, which is how the events of DAMIEN occur. Once Mark is pushed out of their mindscape, Celine relents control of their Garnet fusion to Damien, who decides their fusion will be called Darkiplier, as a mockery of Mark’s acting name.

While Celine and Damien can never un-fuse, they can partially and temporarily form separately. When overwhelmed with an emotion, or when Damien and Celine are in disagreement, they will temporarily peel out of the Darkiplier fusion, only to be dragged back in afterward. (Think of how the forced fusion of gem shards can briefly form humanoid images before actually forming the random combinations of limbs. Celine and Damien can do that but just get pulled back into Darkiplier.)

While Damien and Celine are figuring their own shit out, William is also going through various reformations. Each reformation is a different identity until he lands on a reformation he calls Wilford Warfstache. Wilford Motherloving Warfstache plays out in the mindscape as well- Abe was so injured he can’t properly reform, but his consciousness is intact. When Wilford figures his stuff out and remembers the events of Who Killed Markiplier, which he had been burying with memories from his dozens of reformations, Wilford starts to attempt to hunt down Celine and Damien. Along the way, he slowly gathers a ragtag group of gems, and when he finds Dark, he brings him to act as the leader of the group, feeling he’s more qualified thanks to Damien’s time running Mark’s colonies.

*And, cue the funky music, that brings us to Markiplier TV. Next post will be about the other egos’ gem types, as well as explaining Wilford and Darks forms a bit.

[glitch-in-the-code]

Theory time

I’ve never posted a theory, sorry if this is rocky!!

~~~(some quotes are paraphrased!)

When Mark explained ‘DAMIEN’ he said

‘These are stories. Pure and simple. Literally.’

‘The world they (the characters) live in after ‘Who Killed Markiplier’ are stories. Ya know, scripts.’

He goes on to explain, using Abe an example

‘The detective is who the detective is because he’s a detective, so, therefore, he’s going to be the Detective in every story’

Using this as my base, me and my brother came up with a theory, here we go

The characters are all just characters in the story breaking away from their script. Wilford already did, that’s why he’s able to jump around from story to story, he doesn’t have a script anymore. He’s breaking Abe away from his (Abe’s) story. I can use Mark’s exact words

‘-Like why does the detective know he needs to hunt him (Wilford) down? Why does he know ‘Oh, we had a close call in uh, Burmuda’

‘He knows that because it’s in the script’

‘Wilford ‘Motherluving’ Warfstache’ is Wilford breaking Abe away from his script

The butler from WKM played the role of the Helper in ADWM, and like Mark said about the detective, it’s the same role.

You might be saying, ‘River, a Butler and a helper aren’t the same thing’ Now, yes, you’re right but, you remember how in the Wilford video explaintion, Mark explained the whole

‘Oh, how long were we trapped in the snow for? I’ll give you a hint, we all did it.’

He explained it was a book, a real book. In the DAMIEN explaintion livestream, he said

‘There’s a character Wilford could play in that book’

Meaning, just as long as the role is similar, it could be played.

Now, you’re probably wondering about Damien and Celine.

They’ve already broken away from their script. Like actor! Mark said in DAMIEN,

‘Plans didn’t go according to plan’

Plans didn’t go as scripted, Actor! Mark meant to steal Williams body, but ended up in Damien’s, meaning, Damien and Celine weren’t meant to form Darkiplier.

Actor! Mark is trying to get them back into roll,

‘-And you! Damien! I want you to play the villain!’

Damien was probably meant to play the villain in the original script. In the script where Actor! Mark stole Williams body. In the script where nothing got messed up.

(This was rushed! Sorry!!)