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redskull199987 · 2 years

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Mr. I can't shoot

The Colonel x male!reader

Word count:0.5k

Warnings:guns, cursing, shooting animals. I have no idea how rifles work, if u know, pls tell me

Summary: You and the Colonel try to shoot some birds, things don't go exactly as planned...

Masterlist

"It's bloody useless", I mumbled, lowering the rifle, that the Colonel had handed me,"I will never shoot somesthing, Colonel"

I sat back down and handed him his weapon. He took it gently and smiled at me:"You just need practice"

"No, it's useless", I insisted. We had been sitting in the Gardens of the manor for hours now, trying to shoot some birds, but it seemed hopeless. Every time we finally saw a bird, I missed it. Every.God.Damn.Time.

I was pulled out of my thoughts, as I felt how the Colonel patted my shoulder:"Come on, lad. We'll find some better place"

He started marching away, before I could say anything. Reluctantly, I followed him.

After a few minutes of just helplessly wandering around, The Colonel stopped. Being as clumsy, as I was, I promptly walked into him and stumbled to the ground. The Colonel turned around and looked at me for a second before throwing his head back and laughed heartily.

I felt a blush creeping up my neck, as he held out his hands to help me up. He patted me on the shoulder again and smiled, before handing me the rifle.

"So, now let's practice your aiming", he said. I nodded and raised the rifle. It felt heavy in my hands. The Colonel looked at me, Brows raised.

"My My, Y/N that is not how you hold a rifle. No wonder why you keep missing.", he chuckled.

I blushed at his words and lowered the rifle again:"It's like I said, I'm a hopeless case"

The Colonel laughed again:"You may be miserable, but not helpless. Here, let me show you"

He hesitantly stepped closer to me and adjusted my pose, until I was standing correctly. I saw him grin, as he softly grabbed my arms and pulled them up into the right position.

"And now...", he mumbled and stepped behind me. I felt how his arms came around me and grabbed my hands. Together ,we raised the rifle.

"Let's shoot some birds together", he mumbled. I could feel his breath on my cheek, felt his heartbeat on my back. He was completely calm, ready to shoot. We waited for a few seconds, until we heard the chirping and bickering of a few birds, that came into our view.

"Careful now", the Colonel whispered, as he guided my hands, while aiming. I sucked in a deep breath, scared to fuck it up, but then I felt the Colonel pull the trigger and then...

I heard the squeaking of the birds and saw how one of them crashed to the ground.

"We did it!!!", I yelled and turned aound a huge grin on my face.

"You did it", The Colonel smiled before engulfing me in an enormous hug. I giggled as we jumped around in happiness. I did it. I finally did it. I wasn't a hopeless case.

"Careful!", The Colonel laughed, but it was already to late. Not watching where we were going, the two of us tumbled over a few flowers and fell to the ground. I expected to harshly hit the ground, but the impact never came, but instead I felt how the Colonel's arms wrapped around me and he pulled me against his chest. I landed softly.

I looked up and saw the Colonel smiling at me:"You did good, really good"

I blushed again:"Thanks"

"Now, come on", he mumbled and got up,"Let's go find your trophy"

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mildly-intrusivethoughts · 2 years

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Just Hurt My Own Feelings

I was rewatching Wilford ‘Motherloving’ Warfstache and I realized Wilford would prolly never love us the way he loved Celine.

“Oh, there’s Celine… my heart still beats for her to this day.”

💀 It’s okay, I’m okay.

#I'm sure other people have noticed too but I just need to share my feels #My heart still beats for you bud #markiplier egos #wilford warfstache x reader #wilford motherloving warfstache #wilford warfstache #celine the seer #who killed markiplier #wkm the colonel #wkm celine #tidbit thoughts #mildly-intrusivethoughts #wilford warfstache x y/n #Wilford warfstache/reader

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pipers-pit · 2 years

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Recovered.

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of de@th, manipulation, g*ns, shooting. Read at own discretion!!

Summary: It had been a few weeks since you, the DA, escaped the mirror at the manor. You had wondered into marks old room and soon ran off after harsh conflicts with traumatic memories of your past. However, what happens when that past decides to pay a visit and wishes to ask for your help?

Word Count: 2,504!

Previous Chapters: Chapter one (link) Chapter three (link) Chapter four (link)

Author's note at the end of the fic! Enjoy!

»»————-————-««

It had been weeks since you first came from the mirror. You had not seen anyone coming around as much as before, though it did not entirely give you much of a bother regardless. The idea of living a life of loneliness almost became something you had to accept. You did not want it, but it is all you had that held the true stability your mind could cope with.

You did not pay attention to the mirror much after your escape from its clutches. You almost got busy with exploring the comfort of your prison, almost feeling specific emotions of sadness and dread when entering the chambers of the few who last stayed. Each room you went to, however, you fixed up. You made the beds, almost using it to be a temporary blocker of the mental loss you had experienced. Along with clearing the thick dust that simply reminded you of all the time you had been forced to prolong for.

You did feel a dark chill run down your spine when you went into Mark’s room for the first time. You avoided it like the plague for so long, but you always heard the smallest whispers around the corners of the chambers calling for you. Almost begging for the latches of the late owner to be shown. Once you did choose to finally enter the room, you almost felt the sadness override any other emotion you wanted to have. You should be furious! This was the room of the man who made this mess happen to you...right?

He never wanted you to suffer.

He just wanted to get back at those twisted backstabbers.

You turned looking for the voice that spoke, almost scoffing and rolling your eyes in frustration. “Yes, and suddenly I am a monster under the bed.” You muttered the words sarcastically, almost continuing to look through the room. He could not stop you from doing so, so why not? Your hands brushed against the picture frames of his acting jobs, almost causing the first smile to twinkle against your lips before you snapped back into your senses as you attempted to put it back on the nightstand. Your hands soon slipped away from the frame, causing a gasp of shock to escape as the frame fell against the floor, shattering the ancient glass to a spiderwebs of cracks. It made you tense as you bent down to grab it. The flashbacks of that night came through, but you did your best to ignore them. However, you soon perked your brows at the sight of a metal box hidden beneath the bed.

Ah, the lamb found the wolf’s treasure.

Be careful where you poke your attentions my dear, would not want to hurt your spirit.

You almost hesitated after hearing the voice, but your curiosity always kept egging you to grab it. Soon enough that is what you did. You let a groan escape at the heaviness it held, soon standing up as you sat it against the bed. It held no lock, and you assumed it was just some mishandled thing, but once you opened it and saw the shine of the metal, you felt the color drain from your face. It held so much of what you remembered Abe telling you. A gun, different poisons, and even a knife. You almost wanted to shut it and run away, but something almost held you in place as you scanned over it all. Your hand grasped the gun and shivered, remembering Abe mentioning prior things that happened to mark before his final death. Your breath went shaky as the constant ringing and sounds of gunfire ran through your mind. Your hands moved and grasped your ears, not even realizing you did not put the weapon down as it went on. The coolness of the metal made you jump when you felt it against your face, and you simply threw it back into the box with the fear driven against your face.

I warned you little lamb.

I knew you were not ready to see such horrifying details.

“LEAVE ME ALONE.” You shouted, almost turning, and looking around the home with desperation and fear driven emotions on your face. You did not want to know more, you did not want to stay in the room, but you turned to the box, almost growling as you pulled the gun back out, throwing it to the side as you put away the rest of its contents. You bent down and put them back as they were, almost looking at the photo for a moment you had previously forgotten before grabbing the pistol, shoving it into the back of the pants you wore, and the shirt soon being forced to cover it. You should not keep it, you knew that. But you knew how stupid people were when they came into the manor. You did not want to witness another accidental death, even if it meant you had to feel the cold metal against your skin for a good while as you moved out the room, the faint grasp against the door being hard enough to shut it. You practically moved down the stairs with the purest quickness. The gasps, that you did not entirely realizing you were forcing out, escaping your lips as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

You practically wanted to sob, scream, do anything to rid of the panic going through your veins. You moved into the dining room and felt your knees almost buckle as you sat in a chair. Your hands moved and gripped your hair as the uncontrollable sobs took over you. The hot tears, the shaking of your body, and even the overwhelming discourse with your thoughts continued to ring through your mind for such brief time, yet to you it felt as if it had been hours.

I will not let anyone hurt you, lamb.

You can rid of all your problems so easily with just a little click.

You almost snapped again but stopped mid thought as you heard the front door opening. It connected too easily; it could be a simple trick. Your body still shook, the breaths you forced yourself to have been still quick and shallow, your tears had stopped, but the tear lines stayed evident against your pale skin as you moved from the chair. You almost walked as quietly as possible as you heard the footsteps, and as you peered through the living room and into the doorway, you felt the forgotten heart you held drop into your stomach as the person turned to you and spoke.

“Ah. Hello, my dear old friend.”

Your mind almost went straight to madness seeing his face. The smile and facial expressions fit the mannerisms of Damien so well, but you knew better than that. You could almost feel your mind go into a place you never wanted, you did not think as you heard the gun going off and watched as the wooden wall right next to them almost created a darkened art of splintered wood, dust, and broken wallpaper.

You had tried to shoot Mark. Yet, all he did was move to the side a step. His shocked glance almost turned to one of sarcastic hurt as he stared back at you, the softened gasp escaping his lips. “My dear old friend have you gone mad?” He held no anger in his tone, he wanted to almost treat this moment like attempting to deal with the most mindless creature. Which, in all fairness, is what you had become. His voice almost made you want to break, and it showed as the pistol shook in your grasp, the pure emotion being driven into your eyes as you pulled back to attempt to load another shot.

“You dare show your face to me? YOU ARE THE REASON I AM STUCK IN THIS HELL OF A PRISON.”

Most would almost faint at the idea of Mark still being alive, yet it never did to you. After what all you had been through, this seemed too normal.

“My dear fri- “

You shot again. This time it hit the vase that stood near the door. The pieces of the ceramic fell against the floor and simply made it become more a mess. “Do.not.call.me.that.” You gritted out against your teeth, the interruption slowly showing how much of a mental break had taken over you.

He almost felt a tinge of sympathy for you. He could recognize the state of madness you held. Hell, it is as if he was looking at a reflection of his broken self. He had the same mental torment when he was betrayed by his wife with his former friend. He let the upside down come and manipulate his mind in ways he never wished to describe again. Yet, he almost wanted to use that to his advantage when he saw your state. He knew just how to do it as well.

“Listen to me.” He spoke, almost holding his hands partially up as he stood completely calm, the softened grin and comforting glance staying close as he watched your doubt sprout even more as the weapon stayed shaking in your grasp. “I did not cause you to be here- listen to me.” He interrupted his words as he heard the gun once more being pulled back, the sound giving him flashbacks for the faintest moment as he did, and he did see you stop. Which, truthfully, was not shocking. You two did have a small bond back in the years when you went to university with him and Damien, so you still had some trust, and he planned to make sure to use it.

“If I really caused this to you, why would I return to help you leave...? Come on my dear friend, you know me.” He switched his tone to one of more seriousness as he watched your expression change to one of confusion. “I did not hurt you. Yes, my intentions held truthfully horrid outcomes, yes it did end up with you being left here.” He paused, almost letting the fakest of watering eyes take to his expression. “...But I would not dare leave you here, that was not me. That was Damien and .... Celine.” He almost growled and rolled his eyes saying her name. It still disgusted him at the idea of what she and that snake had done to betray him all so long ago. He had moved over a few steps as he watched your expressions, almost seeing the gears turning as he saw the emotions begin to take over. He knew you were remembering the oh so boring tragedy of your forever torment.

“I was already gone by then, they used your trust and used it to almost make you be their puppet... they did not care for you, they only cared about the purest intentions of getting back at me, no matter who ended up hurt or even dead in the end of it.” He knew he was describing what he had done, but he truthfully found no wrongdoing in the matter. “They took advantage of your shock, and made you become tricked like a joker in a deck of cards...” He had almost stood a mere few feet from you, and it made him almost want to smirk seeing your expression. “Besides. I am here to help you leave... and even give them the revenge you want.”

His words almost echoed in your brain. Him? Helping you leave this manor? Why? But then your mind twisted and remembered what had happened. Yes, mark had done the unthinkable, but something almost ticked and made you understand.

I told you he did not want to hurt you, little lamb.

He wants to help you see the wicked ways of those who wronged you.

He did not dare mock you as others have.

The voice almost made your mind become mush as you finally looked and made eye contact with mark. You could almost feel your eyes well up with tears at the sight of those gentle eyes. The flashbacks to Damien standing in front of you almost made your self-done mental torment so much worse.

“Put it down...it’s okay.”

His words came out in ways that almost made the already crumbled walls finally fall in the darkest ways. You knew the darkness you were dealing with, but the Hyde with the face of Jekyll made your mind almost understand his sick and twisted words.

“Why...? Why did they do it to me...?” Your voice shook and quivered, the emotions you thought you once had managed soon taking back over. Mark did give the sympathetic look you needed, the smile and comforting grin you wanted, yet in his eyes, this was just a process he had to do to get his perfect muse.

His arms opened hesitantly, though truthfully it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Come here.” He cooed out, almost letting out soft mutters of comfort words when you finally felt your will to fight against your demons fall, and you simply fell into their arms, the gun falling against the floor with a softened echo as you buried your face into their shoulder. The softened sobs escaping you as the feeling of touching another almost became overwhelming. It had been years since you had any sort of contact with another being, and this sickeningly felt comforting. He wrapped his arms around you with the blankest expression on his face when looking into the mirror. The sobs against his clothing made him mentally scorn, but he did not dare show it visually. His fingers went through your hair with the false sense of hope interlaced in their touch.

“Worry not my dear friend, I have a few ways for us both to get the desires we both want met...”

His words made you pull back a little to look towards him, the confusion mudding over your features as his chuckles rang true. “I need a favor for helping you, and it is .. small.” He hummed for a moment, and mentally smirked in contentment knowing he had you wrapped around his finger. As he did so many others that he soon simply left to the dust like he would you. But you never needed to know that. He had his villains, he was the hero, and now he had one desperate damsel in destress he had to save. And as he spoke, he could see the gleam in your eyes soon take over. He had you just where he needed as he brushed away the tears from your cheeks, and soon wrapped an arm around your shoulders. His arms soon keeping you close as he led you away from the manor. He watched as you looked at the door opening and soon led you through, the darkened smile taking over just out of your sights.

“How do you feel about helping me with a few acting adventures?”

»»————————-««

Author's note:

Hello everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I loved writing it >:D If there are ANY tags/triggers you need added to the list of this fic. DO NOT HESITATE TO TELL ME. I want everyone to be comfortable reading this<3

there will be another fic written here soon. and it may or may not finally have the true Damien. That is all I'm gonna say.

#who killed markiplier #markiplier #darkiplier #markiplier fandom #wilford warfstache #celine #markiplier x reader #actor mark #district attorney #wkm damien #markiplier fanfiction #angst angst angst #wkm da

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purplefyragon · 2 years

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The Story Doesn’t End Here

This is based off a dream I had a few months ago, around the time ISWM came out. Again, set in the universe where Actor is Engineer!Mark, etc. This time, it’s Y/N making a choice. This is weird. As usual, loathe entirely. Rating: General/SFW GN!Reader Pairings: Mild implied past DA/Damien, current implied Actor/YN Warnings: canon typical angry void men, eldritch fighting, gunshots (provided by Wilford), mild gore Word Count: 2300+

It happened quickly- the reality shift from ‘Celci’ and Mark arguing- her smacking him across the face- then the world around you glitches as her eldritch brother dragged the three of you out of Mark’s story dimension and into the greater void.

The chill of the endless, black expanse is something that you had hoped you could forget by throwing yourself into Mark’s adventures. Sadly, it seems that Damien is here to wake you up from your escape. Yet…

Something is different.

Mark is visibly angry at his story being interrupted like this. He and Damien begin their raging at each other, quickly devolving to inhuman noises. They hurt to look at; the things hiding beneath their shells coming out to wage war against each other as their bodies degrade.

You watch Celine’s spiritual color flare with her brother’s strikes, her own body morphing and changing, almost fading at times. … She wouldn’t notice if you attacked her- if you could even touch her right now. You doubt you could.

There’s something wrong.

The void seems… malevolent, and not just to you either. The nightmarish realm twists and creaks around the four of you, Mark and Damien’s auras clashing in the air. They don’t seem to notice it, though. They're too focused on tearing each other apart to stop and realize their warring is shaking the very fabric of this unreality.

Little cracks and slivers of light splinter across the black sky, and through them, you can see- you can see.

It’s like looking back in time, watching all your adventures play out before you, no matter where you glance. And it isn’t just yours- you can see all that which Abe, William, and the other Egos have been up to as well.

The deafening resound of multiple gunshots and screams bring you back to the present- specifically, the change in the screams: dual eldritch roars of agony warping back into human cries of pain. Mark and Damien disengage from each other, twisting masses of power and energy folding in on themselves as they regain their human guises. The source of the gunshots, William, stands by Celine with his pistol raised, pointed at the two of them. His pink aura overwhelms the area around the both of them in twisting, nauseating pink and yellow, making your head hurt to look at him.

Mark clutches his shoulder, black and red ichor dribbling down his arm and hitting the ground by his foot. Damien’s hand clamps over his side, shadowy trichromatic ooze leaking out and staining his white suit. Both men stare at the third, who just shrugs and smiles, apologizing to Damien and claiming that it’s a bit difficult to shoot when they look like that.

Damien rages in the instant after that, aura twisting and pulsating, arching outwards and rushing at Mark like some solar flare snapping from the sun’s surface. It’s some arc of white-hot/frigid cold- a radiating, static shadow that carries an air of finality with it.

Finality.

Mark’s words echo in your head. “I go and I come back and I go and I come back and I go but I always come back!” The rage and denial in his voice from that…

… Will he, from this? You’ve never seen him bleed like that before. Not like he is now. Not like this.

He doesn’t move despite the wall of energy running him down like a freight train. You don’t know if he can. Does he want to? Can he? Will he?

… What happens if he dies? Does his place this fall apart? Do you disappear? Do you go back into that damned mirror? Do you sleep?

You lose all this. You lose him.

N̴̦͍̟̲͋͌͜͜ŏ̵̙̥

Something snaps inside you- something long-strained within your very core shatters and an old, familiar rushing of shadow and power take its place. There is a new heaviness in the back of your mind, but you don’t have time to think about that- the only thing you focus on is getting Mark out of the way of that goddamned aura-

It’s an instant, really. One second, you are watching Mark, and the next, you are colliding with the solid body of the larger man- he’s at least a foot taller than you and dense, but you tackle him off his feet with ease- too much ease. The Actor yelps from the impact, but you don’t care, as you feel the radiating cold and stinging heat of the aura brush a bit too close to your back for any real comfort.

You both fly at least 20 feet before he hits the ground with another loud grunt beneath you, sliding another few feet before coming to a stop.

You both pant heavily- you can tell he is in pain from the short way his breath hitches. He shouldn’t be in pain. With difficulty, you lift yourself up off of him, supporting your weight on your hands and knees- it is now that you notice his arms wrapped around your body. You pull back and study the man, finding those unnatural, burning eyes fluttering open and studying you with shock- a dozen different emotions flashing across his face.

By the way you feel, you believe the eyes he is looking back into are just as alien as his own, now.

“Y/N… what-”

“What the HELL is wrong with you, Y/N?!” Damien and Celine both scream, voices crackling with the roar of the void. You can see Damien motioning strangely in your peripheral vision, reigning in his aura to attack again. William, meanwhile, is cackling about the odd turn of events.

There’s no point in answering them just yet, instead you focus on the man below you. You can feel the strange motion of otherness shifting along the skin of your back- shadowy tentacles, most likely, judging by his eyes tracking them over your shoulder. Leaning in closer, you spread them out protectively over you both as you speak, quiet and private- just to him.

“He’s not the only one walking around without blood on his hands.” You can hear the way your voice pitch changes, and you can’t find it in yourself to care.

His eyebrows lift up in surprise, the grip on your hips tightening slightly. Your hand touches his chest, the place you know Damien’s axe once hit home long ago.

“I know what you’ve done. I don’t care what you’ve done.” You murmur quietly and sit up a little, focusing on him as you adjust his tie and lapels, fixing them up. “We’ve all had wrongs perpetrated against us in this place, and we all want revenge for that no? But that’s all in the past, isn’t it?”

You’re not really sure what possesses you to lean in and kiss his bloodied lips, but it feels right in a way. “I’m not ready to sleep yet, Mark. I don’t want it to end.”

You turn your head towards the trio, then, studying them individually, then meeting his again. “So I’m going to make sure that your story, our story, doesn’t end here.” You smile. “We still have so much to do, don’t we?”

The shock finally subsides into something familiar. Something warm. Before he can respond to you, the aura whips above both your heads, shrieking through the void above you and returning to Damien. The look of contempt he is giving you is something you’ve seen before.

“So, you finally pick a side, do you, old friend?”

You slowly pick yourself up off of Mark, maintaining eye contact with the man. You sneer.

“You stole my body and left me to rot, Damien. Why are you surprised?”

“It was a mercy- we spared you from this Hell!'

“IT'S ALL HELL!” you sneer, “But, hell at his side is preferable to nothingness.”

The man that you once thought you could spend the rest of your life with sneers at you like you are no more than shit on his heel. It hurts, but you don’t care anymore.

“Don’t worry, old friend. I’ll destroy the nightmare He has weaved and set you free.”

… You laugh. You laugh and laugh and laugh. Your stomach hurts and tears stream down your cheeks- even Mark looks at you with concern. You clutch at your stomach and wipe your tears away, fixing the ex-Mayor with a withering look that could melt steel.

"You think I'm going to let you hurt him? He is the ONLY reason I am free and I’m not going to let you take him from me."

His aura flares around him again while William lifts his gun. Damien sighs. You feel Mark shifting similarly beside you. The Actor laughs.

“Unfortunately, it’s come to this. I’ll make it quick, old friend.”

You grin.

“Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war, Damien."

Damien’s body flickers with his aura, destabilizing as it overtakes him once again, screaming in anger- and dismay. William’s aura, strangely, does the same- instead of firing on you or Mark, his aura gets twisted up with Damien’s, creating some insanity pinwheel of color and sound- which then rushes the two of you.

You brace, pulling at the heaviness within you and feeling the void respond, surrounding you in shifting, flickering shadows tinged with the color of your soul. That holds nothing to Mark’s smoky crimson aura which envelopes your own, surrounding you both as his hand wraps around your wrist. As you look to him in confusion, the grin he gives you is mischievous, knowing- plotting.

You know that look.

Mark winks at you, then suddenly pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his body. The contact just bolsters the shadows around you both, growing and shifting into some great tentacled thing- you can hear the void creaking and raging below and above as his laugh resounds around you.

“You don’t want it to end, little monster? You want to stay with me?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your face against his chest. He purrs, and you hear it underneath the cacophony around you.

“When it hits, I want you to push with all you have. Understand? I’ll take care of the rest.”

You nod again, and… there’s suddenly a quiet- almost like the eye of a hurricane. His voice is soft, when he addresses you again.

“... I don’t want to end, either, Y/N. Our story won’t end here. We really do have so much still to do.”

Of course you try to pull back to look at him because that’s Mark- that’s the old Mark- your friend from so long ago-

But the roar of the void slams back into everything all at once, almost deafening you to the point that you can barely hear him scream-

“N̵̝͈̓̆O̴̠̎W̵̳͗̎!̶͍͙̍”

You obey without thinking and push, and you feel a rush of energy bending the void around you almost like a shockwave, like the tensile weight of metal being put under pressure. Then you feel Mark- all of him pushing with you- the sound wave pressure buckles then rebounds with double the force, sending the cacophony back, and you in the other direction-

…

You realize a little too late that you’ve teleported, still clinging to Mark for dear life, face pressed into his neck, eyes shut. Releasing a breath you had been holding far too long, you pull back to look around, finding yourself in a grassy, flowering clearing in the middle of a forest. It’s early in the morning or evening by the color of the sky, shaded by overcast clouds, but not immune to the sun’s rays turning them a plethora of different colors.

You turn your attention to the Actor still holding you. His eyes are still possessed of the void, though he regards you with a strange, warm curiosity now. Your hands slide down to rest on his chest, adrenaline, and anger bleeding into… embarrassment. Fuck, you really kissed him, huh? A blush spreads across your cheeks as his lips quirk into an interested smirk- but there’s that ever-present softness, still.

“... What was that back there, little monster?” His tone is teasing. Sing-songy. He’s going to address it- of course, he is- well-

You sputter and try to remove yourself from his arms, but his grip does not slacken. He practically forces you to look at him by taking hold of your jaw and tilting your head up. “I- … a lot happened back there, and I-”

The man huffs and presses his lips to yours, as if to remind you of exactly what he means. He doesn’t pull away immediately either, coaxing you to respond to him.

You do, and only then does he slowly draw away, speaking softly against your lips. “The kiss, Y/N. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Now is not the time to be playing coy with me. Not anymore.”

You… really don’t see the reason for lying anymore.

“... I had- complicated feelings for you in college. It developed into… something, but by then, you had eloped with Celine, and- …” You look away. “I get to have you, here. If not in that way, then I get to do all these adventures with you. I get to be with you. That’s… that’s why. I didn’t know how to express it at the time.”

He draws back and watches you with an unreadable expression while you explain. You see his pupils flex in a strange, catlike way the further you go along, and by the time you finish, he scoffs softly in a strange way, considering you.

“.... Perhaps, if I had followed through with my own feelings then, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

You blink. Wait.

What-

“But… As you said, our story wasn’t going to end there.” He smiles at you, drawing you close to him again and cupping your cheek. You blink again. Ah-

“What’s say we add a little more personal, intimate touch to our story, hm? What say you, Dove?”

Your heart clenches at the old nickname- his nickname for you from college.

Oh.

Absolutely.

#my writing #ISWM #actor x reader #darkiplier #damien the mayor #celine the seer #iswm y/n #iswm captain #actor mark #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #wilford warfstache #Y/N with spooky eldritch void power?#Yes.

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melancholypancakes · 2 years

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*Y/n protecting Darkiplier and all the Markiplier Egos*

Y/n: The power of Christ compels you! *pointing cross at Actor! Mark*

*Actor! Mark looking demon like creepy as shit*

Y/n: THE POWER OF CHRIST-COMPELS YOU!

*Y/n points cross at Actor! mark as he roars in demon*

Script inspired by both of these

youtube

@ghiertor-the-gigapeen

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 2 years

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A Modern Mayor, A New Story

I’m fairly sure people would like Reader x Damien in a modern day setting without the inevitable dread of the WKM events. Luckily, I rp a Damien that can exist in the present while characters like Dark are still there. So… Why not officially bring that setting over and open the doors to new interactions; and bring a reason for Damien and the Reader to meet for the first time? (This features a redeemed!Actor Mark!)

What I was writing turned out to be a little long, so I’ve split it in two. All going well, the second part will be up tomorrow!

Word Count: 1,898

Life was for the Living.

And for an actor striving for a better life, never did that mantra ring truer. Mark had spent so long harbouring resentment for the world that he had almost forgotten what hope felt like. It was as though the long-winded stories had come to their conclusions and he could do as he pleased with no fears of needing to ‘remake’ stories or have them ‘restart’. Maybe in another timeline, someone had completed the stories and freed him and others as a consequence.

What a freeing thought! He could do whatever he wanted now that the shackles had been loosened! No more were his days haunted by the monochromatic entity or the pastel madman trying to seek right revenge or entertaining violence. However patchy things were between them, they had started to make a better future and be friends after a lifetime of hatred. Mark could never undo the consequences of his selfish actions, but he could help Dark and Wilford have better futures ahead of them.

Which was why spotting Celine at a function that his acting group had been invited to threw him for an utter loop.

He was sure it was a case of mistaken identity. A century had passed. Genetics would ensure that there would be people that look alike. Short hair was popular, and Celine wasn't the only person in the world allowed to dress with a sophisticated, occult aesthetic. But when he looked her way a second time, he couldn’t shake the hunch that it really was her, to some extent.

It made sense, Mark reflected while sipping water through a straw by the bar. Most of the other 'cast' from that accursed story were here. From what Dark had told him of his sister’s fate, she ‘fell asleep’ within the Void. It only stood to reason that the Void would eventually spit back out whatever remained of her.

A panicked decision was made - he would avoid her. There would be no fighting, no carving out of hearts. He couldn’t risk causing a scene with his angry ex-wife. If she was seeking revenge, Mark had no way to defend himself. It would be a disaster that he would not be able to talk himself out of, nor would he have time to call for help to help her see everything was… Not ‘okay’, given how broken the three men were, but ‘stable’.

As stories like these go: the more you try to avoid something, the more likely you are to have it happen anyway.

Once he knew what she looked like (she did look very pretty in a black, flowing dress that fell just below her knees, but he forced himself to not think about that) he could duck his head and keep out of the way. She must love the modern world, somewhere that would let her thrive and impress the world. That was what he loved about her, and that was what she deserved. But as he hung by the bar to enjoy his pint of water and keep out of the way, he left himself vulnerable. Something brushed against his shoulder.

"Busy night, huh?"

"Huh?"

"It's busy tonight. A great turnout. I’m glad to see it.” Beside him, Celine rested her elbows on the bar, flashing him a small smile. When Mark didn’t give a reply, she raised a raised eyebrow. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Mark laughed nervously as he clutched his glass. Either she didn’t recognise him… Or this wasn’t her. "Haaah, yeah, Sorry. I thought you were someone I knew. It's been a weird night for me. Can I, uh, help you?"

"Maybe, if you aren’t going to faint on me. You were performing today, weren't you? In that tragic comedy?"

"Uh… yeah. How did you know that?"

"Because I read your mind." She held a deadpan expression for several seconds before it broke into a smirk. "Nah, I'm pulling your leg. I was at the show today. Not normally what I'm into, but it was good. Name’s Celine.”

Mark blinked. She didn’t recognise him. This wasn’t the Celine he knew. Somehow, that brought relief as he shifted his position so he could offer a hand. “Mark. I’m glad you enjoyed the show. It’s been our pride and joy for the last few months. It was worth all the work put into it.”

“Oh yeah, the reviews were all singing your praises. You’re good at playing the tragic hero.”

“So I’ve been told!” Mark nearly choked on a laugh, and was quick to mask it by taking a sip of his drink. This Celine, whatever strange reincarnation she was, was the same as the one he had married. He recognised the smirk, the way she knew he was embarrassed about something. It felt like they were teenagers all over again… And Mark could feel something flutter in his chest.

He tried his hardest to try and lock the feelings in a box in the back of his mind. Loving Celine was a big factor in what caused all this in the first place, and he was so sure that he had lost any positive feelings toward her. But the more they spoke, the more he realised that he was wrong. Maybe the years trapped in the Manor had skewed his view on more than he thought. Maybe he did have some sort of love for her.

“- which freaked Damien out, which I didn’t understand. It wasn’t like the bike was actually going to crash.”

“Wait wait wait.” Mark felt something tighten in his chest. “Who’s Damien?”

“Oh. Yeah. Forgot that. Damien’s my brother. I’m sure you’ve seen him around the place. He’s the Mayor… Mark? Something wrong?”

“What? U-uh… Yeah. Sorry. Never would have guessed your brother was the Mayor.”

“Really? People normally can tell we’re related straight away once they’ve seen us…” An idea hit her as she gave a sly smirk. She grabbed his arm and announced they were going to meet Damien. The actor was too slow to react and was left stumbling after her as his mind reeled over this discovery.

Not only was there a Celine in this modern day timeline, there was also a Damien?? It had to be a coincidence. Damien still existed. It might be in the form of the corrupted being known as Darkiplier, but it still counted! It was impossible to make a duplicate of someone that wasn’t trapped in the Void.

Yet, as he nearly tripped over his feet when Celine screeched to a halt, why did it feel like Mark was thrown back a full century when he saw Damien standing there? The young Mayor was dressed immaculately in a black suit with a white bowtie. The white flower was replaced by a prop flower that Mark recognised from the show - a white rose with the edges dipped in colours of the rainbow to help celebrate Pride. He even rested part of his weight on an elegant cane.

No doubt about it - this was an echo of the Damien from long ago. Somehow, both twins were able to live new lives in the modern world. It made no sense. Was this a result of him shattering a barrier in the Void while chasing the twins in the winter wasteland, or a side-effect of some other timeline having a completed ‘story’?

Now wasn’t the time to think about it. Damien turned his head when Celine called his name. He politely excused himself from his conversation and stepped over. In a move that was reminiscent of times gone by, Damien’s professionalism was dropped in favour of a relaxed smile.

“How did you know I needed an escape? Thank you for giving me an ‘out’.” Damien glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening in. “Is this you telling me you’re ready to go, Celine?”

“Nearly. I want to introduce you to the director of the group that performed ‘Forlorn Memories’ this evening. This is Mark.” She looped her arm around Mark’s to tug him to the forefront. “Mark, this is my brother, Damien.”

Guilt twisted his gut as Mark noticed how recognition sparked in Damien’s eyes, but not because of a friendship from another life.

“Ah! I am so glad to meet you. Your performance was excellent! I was thoroughly invested the whole time!” Even the way Damien spoke was the same as long ago. Both siblings were nearly perfect replicas. Their eye colours were different, and Mark was sure there were other minor factors that would arise over time. Right now, he wanted to enjoy this encounter, even if it was all too bizarre to be true. Did Dark know about this? Surely he did.

During the conversation, Mark accidentally let slip that his day job is a producer in the Jim News Studio. Damien giggled as he recalled how the reporter twins interviewed him during his election campaign, which in turn gave him an idea. He asked if it would be possible to arrange a meeting with members of the studio, as he would like to have a team covering the upcoming Pride events.

Mark, delighted and working on a panicked instinct, immediately agreed that it would be a fantastic idea and arranged to have a small group visit the office the next day.

–

“You agreed to WHAT?!”

Dark’s aura flared with such intensity that it made the entity’s form briefly glitch out. Mark winced, head lowering into his red hoodie.

“I panicked! What did you expect me to do when I saw another you there?” His answer wasn’t good enough. Dark pinched the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

“We can’t go. We can’t risk anything going wrong. If he and I are in the same room, there’s a strong chance one of us will cease to exist. I refuse to take that chance. And what about Wilford? What if this starts giving him ideas?”

“What’s givin’ me ideas?” Wilford, who had zoned out of the conversation, perked up when he heard his name mentioned.

“You’ve got a meeting with the Mayor this afternoon -” Mark started.

“- which you’re not going to,” concluded Dark.

“Hey, no, waaaait. That’s not fair! Don’t I get a say?” Wilford slumped forward with a heavy sigh. “I wanna go see Damien. I gotta make sure his dog’s doin’ okay!”

Both Mark and Dark gave him a confused look.

“Yeah, his dog. That cute little corgi? He called it ‘Barnum’ after I helped him find a furry friend! Do neither of ya look at social media? I swear I -”

“You already met him?!” Wilford flinched at Dark’s shout. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I thought ya knew! He’s been all over th’ place ever since he got elected! If ya read th’ news, y’d see him!” The reporter shot up his hands in self-defence. “If Mark said we can go meet him, then I wanna go. I can take a little team with me, an’ we can go break th’ ice.”

“You’re okay with me putting you on the spot like this?” Mark cautiously asked. Wilford gave a firm nod in response. “Thanks, Will. I owe you for this. You’re booked in for three o’clock. That’ll give you time to decide -”

“Waaay ahead of ya!” Wilford hopped onto his feet and threw a light-hearted finger-gun at Mark. “I know who I’m takin’ with me.”

Next Part!

#writersofmark #mayor damien #mayor damien x reader #(eventually! This is worldbuilding!)#(I'll need to think of a tag for this. Hm.)#actor mark #celine the seer #wilford warfstache #darkiplier #modern mayor anomaly

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fdq666roadie-blog · 2 years

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Prompt: Pegging Relationships: Celine/Wilford Warfstache Characters: Celine and Wilford Warfstache (not William) Tags: Pegging, Strap Ons, Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Mild Femdom, Mildly Dubious Consent

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #wilford x celine #celine x wilford #celine x wilford warfstache #wilford warfstache x celine #markiplier fanfiction

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bonesandquills · 2 years

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So I've read pink ice about 17 times now and i love you're writing and like desperately need like heart shattering soul crushing wilford angst like maybe wilford having an episode and accidentally shoots and kills reader?

Let’s celebrate my first official ask with some trauma ;)

Trigger Warning: Major Character Death, Suicidal Themes

Was It My Fault?

Wilford Warfstache x Reader

He held the gun, the well worn metal pieces clinking softly as his hand shook.

It clicked as he spun the chamber, and he stared, transfixed, at the rotating metal. When it came to a stop, he held it up to his head and pulled the trigger.

The hammer struck with a hollow click. Another empty.

So far, this game of roulette was proving rather boring.

If anyone had been in the room in that moment, the maddened look in his eyes would have sent shivers down their spine.

His grin seemed stretched too wide, his hair was messy and falling over his cold, empty brown eyes.

He spun the chamber again, and pressed the cool metal barrel to his temple. He felt his heart race, a feeling that was lost to him most times. The coolness was comforting. Like an old friend.

And old friend….

Suddenly, there came a soft knock on the door. The sound was enough to snap Wilford out of his stupor. The life returned to his eyes, and he sat up a little straighter. You must have come home.

He shoved the gun under the pillow of his bed and ran a hand through his untidy pink hair to straighten it.

He went over to the heavy manor door and pulled it open, barely giving you time to say hello before he drew you into a backbreaking hug.

“Mmf-! Hello, Wil.”

You smiled and hugged the broad-chested man back the best you could from your place in his arms. Wilford, when it came to your relationship, was clingy and very, very sweet. Almost like cotton candy.

Though you knew how dangerous he could really be. You were confident, however, that he would never hurt you.

Finally, the bubbly man let you go, his smile turning up the corners of his pink mustache. Though your feet were back on the ground, his arms never left your waist.

“Hello, gumdrop!” He chattered excitedly. “You’re finally home!”

You laughed slightly. “Yes, Wil, I’m home.”

He leaned down and gave you a long kiss, which you accepted gladly. He tasted sweet, like bubblegum.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the room, closing the door behind him, never breaking the kiss.

He loved you, there was no doubt about that to him. More, he thought, than he had loved Celine. Though his heart suddenly ached at the thought of her, it was quickly dispelled by the feeling of you against him. You were the only other thing since the… accident that could make his heart race. That and his trusty pistol.

You gently pulled back from the kiss to catch your breath, laughing quietly. Wilford often forgot that you were mortal, and needed to breathe.

He responded with a low chuckle, and buried his face into your shoulder. His mustache tickled your skin, and you laughed, trying to push him off you.

Sensing your efforts, he simply went limp. The sudden weight on you made you collapse backwards onto the bed, with him on top of you. You laughed more, and he shot you a wide grin.

“Falling for me already?”

“Shut up,” you huffed, then shifted to sit up. As you did, however, the pillow moved from its place. You stiffened as you caught sight of the gun’s handle, and the mood quickly darkened.

You looked back and Wil, stern with narrowed eyes. “…You’ve been playing roulette again.”

Before he could answer, you grabbed the gun and rolled out from under him, dashing to the other side of the room.

He looked at you with worried eyes, his brain beginning to fog. With the gun out of his hands, and old memory began to surface.

“Worthless,” Celine said, holding his gun and staring at him with angry eyes. “Absolutely worthless. You were supposed to be with Mark, and instead you’re out hunting…”

She tossed the weapon to one side, and he winced at the clattering sound it made against the solid oak floor. “I could have been found out! My marriage, my position, my status… I thought you cared about me! You almost ruined me!”

It was always ‘me’. Never ‘us’. Never ‘we’.

Always about her.

He felt the anger start to build. Celine had ruined him, taken his brothers’ trust from him, made him out to be the bad guy…

And as he looked back at you, he didn’t see you at all.

He saw Celine.

Celine stood in front of him, her veil over her eyes and his gun in her hand. Rage flared up inside of him.

“Bitch,” he sneered. “You took everything from me.”

You tensed slightly at the tone, the word stinging a bit. You decided to ignore it and try to calm him down.

“Wilford… take a deep breath…”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” He snapped, striding closer to you, his fists balled in anger. “Everything would have been fine if I’d never gotten involved with you and your freeloading!”

You felt tears start to prick your eyes. You didn’t understand, everything a second ago had seemed just fine.

As he got closer, you tried to stand up straighter, to look stern.

He leaned closer to you and tried hard not to flinch. His tone was dripping with malice as he spoke again.

“I fucking hate you.”

You had tears running down your face now. You didn’t even flinch as Wilford grabbed the gun from your hand and pointed it at you.

There was the sound of gunfire, and everything went dark.

Wilford watched you fall, blood pooling from the hole in your chest. But something was off…

It wasn’t Celine who fell, it was you.

His eyes widened, and he caught you before you fell, getting soaking his shirt in blood, the crimson standing out against the pink.

“No…. No, gumdrop, please…. Please.”

You didn’t respond.

He snapped then.

Everything faded together. He clung to you, soaked in your blood. He stared at your glassy eyes for a moment before he started to laugh, tears streaming down his own face.

“Ah, cupcake… you always knew how to play a good joke. Heh… Cmon, sweetheart… wake up, you got me.”

He held you until you turned cold, his sobbing laughs echoing through the manor.

#wilford warfstache #x reader #main character death #roulette #strong angst #tw sui ideation #Celine and Wilford shippers #this is not for you

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zee-stars · 1 year

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Fake Dating (Damien x reader)

Authors note: I swear to god with man is so pretty. Based off the love trope post I made. Also sorry if perspectives are all over the place Im so bad at this :[

Summary: Damien is fed up with people trying to hook him up with their daughters or woman flirting with him so he tells them you're his wife. Downside, you're not.

"Damien! It's good to see you!" Some old man announces while Damien is standing at the punch bowl.

"Hey, how's it going?" He greets.

"Pretty good, pretty good. Say, how would you like to meet my daughter? She is a lovely young woman." He should have known this was gonna happen as soon as the man walked over. This is the third attempt of someone trying to hook him up with their daughter or some random drunk woman trying to get him home with them.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure she's beautiful but I actually plan on leaving in a few minutes." He stutters out before an older woman comes towards him.

"Oh, Percy, leave him alone. Besides, he probably has 100s of woman coming after him. He doesn't need you're daughter coming after him." The woman laughs.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!" The man shouts. Another man comes in, talking over them.

"What he really needs to do is find a woman and settle down with her. Not be a player." The man scoffs. Damien takes great offense to that. He doesn't want 100s of woman interested in him. He wants one woman. He's not trying to be a player. He isn't one.

"I have found a person." He blurts out in the heat of the moment. The group of people around him grows silent and stares at him.

"Really? Is that true?" The woman asks. He shifts awkwardly. He doesn't prefer to lie. But, he feels like he doesn't have another choice in the matter right now.

"Yes, it's true."

"Oh, I'm sorry. If I knew I wouldn't have offered my daughter to you." The man apologizes.

"It can't be true! He doesn't have a ring." The second man points out.

"I-I do have a ring. Just I had to get it resized it was too tight." He is sort of proud of how quickly he can come up with a lie.

The men around him nod and the woman come closer, asking about his spouse.

"Oh, Damien, what is their name? What are they like? When did you meet?"

"Uh, their name is Y/n, they are very pretty and kind and we've been friends for as long as I can remember." See, none of what he said was a lie. It's just that Y/n is not his spouse. Y/n is his childhood best friend that now works right on his side as his secretary. By they seem to believe it.

"Oh that's so sweet!" The woman fawns.

"I suppose you better get home then, don't want to keep you're spouse waiting. And next time you should bring them." He nods and smiles and takes this chance to leave.

It doesn't hit him what happened until he gets home.

"Oh, shit. What am I gonna tell Y/n?"

____________________________________

The next day at work he is sitting at his desk. He's supposed to be working on the papers in front of him but he can't help but think about the night before. How could he forget when the reminder of what happen is right outside of his office?

After awhile he calls Y/n into his office.

"Hey Dames, what's up? You need some more coffee?" They look at his almost empty cup.

"No, no, well yes but I need to tell you something first." Y/n face is filled with concern as they take a seat in the chair across from him.

"Yes, is everything alright."

"Well, I may have done something wrong." His face flushes pink.

"Oh god, what did you do this time?" A tiny grin appears on both of their faces. God he loves how Y/n can make him smile even when he knows their is a chance they are gonna hate him in the next few seconds.

"So, last night I was at one of the parties I have to attend. And I may have told them that we were married." He mumbles the last part but Y/n hears it all. Their eyes go wide and they can't help but laugh.

"Oh my god, Damien why?" They hide their face in their hands, still laughing.

"They kept trying to hook me up with their daughters or go home with them!" He shouts, which causes Y/n to laugh more. "They also called me a player cause I hadn't settled down yet."

Y/n shakes their head at him. "They called you a player?? Do they not know that you haven't dated someone since sophomore year in high school?!" Y/n starts laughing more.

"Okay, okay, you didn't have to start bullying me. Anyways, we have a bigger issue."

"Okay, I'm sorry. What's up?" They calm down their laughter and look at him seriously.

"I got invited to another party next Saturday. And I told them that I would bring my spouse to the next party..." he trails off.

"So... what I'm getting, is that you want me to be you're fake spouse to the party next Saturday so they'll stop trying to hook up with you?" He pauses for a second.

"Will you??" Y/n smiles and gets to their feet.

"Anything for my husband." They grin before grabbing the cup and walking out of the room. Leaving Damien a blushing mess.

____________________________________

Later that evening at home, he gets a message from Y/n.

Y/n

So do want me to come over so we can practice being a married couple? Maybe have a fake wedding?

Damien

What? Why?

Y/n

1 cause with the amount of experience you have had with relationships you'll probably need a reminder on how they work

Also we'll need rings

Damien

I can search Celine's jewelry for some? I know I have one somewhere.

Y/n

I'll be right over baby :)

Damien

???

Y/n

It's a couples thing🙄

About 30 minutes later there was a knock on the door and Y/n came rushing in.

"Oh, honey I'm home!!" They shout.

"I feel like you're having to much fun playing this role." He comments.

"Oh I am. I'm so excited to be able to do this around people." They joke. Damien smiles and pulls out his ring and a few of Celine's rings. Y/n let's out a gasp.

"Omg, Damien, are you proposing?!" He rolls his eyes at them.

"Yes I am, I didn't know you're ring size so try them on a see if they fit." You both smile and you try on the rings until you find one that fits.

"I'm glad I told them we were already married so you couldn't come up with the idea of us getting engaged during the party." Y/n threw their head back with laughter.

"Oh but we could get divorced."

"No! Cause then they'll try to hook me up with their daughters." You both laughed. You sat down on the couch and Damien joined you.

"So, how do you practice being a married couple?" He asks.

____________________________________

"What do you mean 'why does it matter?' I have to know what kind of party it is so I know how to dress!" Y/n complained over the phone.

"I don't know I usually just show up in my suit and it's good." Damien answers.

"Okay so fancy but not to fancy, got it, see you in about 30 minutes. Be ready." Before he can respond Y/n hangs up.

Of course he'll be ready. He's always ready on time. He checks himself in the mirror one more time before sitting on the couch. He fiddles with his fingers and waits. Why does it have to be so long. He doesn't want to wait. He's already anxious enough. Not that he doesn't want to go to a party with Y/n. He has many times but never as their "husband". He's thought about what I'd be like. Being their husband. He knows it's silly but he kinda doesn't want it to be an act.

A little while later he hears a knock on the door. He doesn't rush to the door cause he knows you'll just open it. You walk into the kitchen where he is waiting.

"Well, look at you mr handsome." Y/n teases with a smile. "Have I ever told you that you look good in a suit." His face goes slightly pink at the compliment.

"No you haven't, but I accept the compliment. You look amazing." He wanted to say more. Say how handsome/beautiful/pretty they looked in their suit/dress. He wanted to do so much more. But it's just an act that will last for one night. So he better make the best of it.

____________________________________

Damien and his spouse have been the topic of the night. Everyone af the party were waiting for their arrival. Once they say Damien step out of the car they were ready to meet his spouse.

"So a reminder, hand holding, is okay, no kissing on the lips and pet names are alright." Damien nodded as he took your hand to help you out of the car. "Are you alright, love?" Y/n noticing his anxiousness. Y/n was always able to read him well. He nodded as they walked up the steps to the door.

"Just nervous." He stated calmly.

"Hey, if you need a break we can step out or leave." He nodded again and opened the door for you.

"Damien! Pleasure to see you. And you must be Y/n! We were all quite shocked to find out he was married." He laughed and Y/n laughed along with him. The party continues on and everyone is coming up to the duo to meet Damien's spouse.

People are spending the whole night trying to keep Damien's attention but Y/n is the only one who is able to do that. Going from small glances accompanied by smiles from across the room, to quick check-ins whispered into each others ears, followed by gentle kisses on the cheek.

People fawned over your relationship. They talk about how they have never seen Damien smile so much. Never heard him laugh so gleefully. They thought you were the perfect couple. You were just what Damien needed. Not only did everyone think that, he did too.

____________________________________

As the party came to an end, everyone came to say goodbye to the happy couple.

"You two make the cutest couple!" Woman would fawn to you.

"I've never seen you this happy, Damien. They really are the one huh?" Men would say to him. But he would just nod. He couldn't take his eyes off you. Your smile, hair, eyes, lips, you're suit/dress, it was all perfect. It was all his for the night. But now the night was over. He didn't want it to end.

Finally you guys had left. It was a quiet ride home. Y/n was struggling to keep their eyes open, while Damien's mind was racing. All because of Y/n. Every thought was Y/n.

"Hey, we're home." Damien said softly, gently tapping Y/n. Y/n groaned and stretched before getting out of the car. They quickly walk over to Damien as he was already heading towards the house. Once they get into the house Y/n slips off their shoes before getting a drink from the fridge. "You know Dames, I don't get why you dislike the girls there. Some of them were quite pretty!" Y/n announced from the kitchen while Damien was heading to the couch. "Eh, I think some of them are nice. But..." He trailed off right as Y/n came into the room. "But....?" Y/n questioned. "I guess... their not my type." Damien shrugged. Y/n just rolled their eyes and scoffed before sitting down next to him. "Since when do you have a type Dames? Or is it just a person in particular?" Y/n asked. Damien's face started to heat up. It was a person. A person he really liked, and had known forever. Unfortunately Y/n noticed the blush on his face and grinned. "Oooooo, who's the special person?" Y/n teased with a grin. "What? There's no 'special person'" Damien stutters out and rolls his eyes, with an even more obvious blush. "Okay, whatever you say Dames. But can I ask you something?" Y/n asks. He looks at them curiously before nodding. "Why did you say I was your spouse? I know the only person you talk too." That is the one question Damien has been avoiding. He knows why he said it. But he prayed that you wouldn't ask him that. His thoughts raised as he tried to think of an answer. Should he tell you the truth? Did you already know? Would it be better to lie? His thoughts yelled at him to tell you... so he did. "Because... because I want you to be my spouse!" Damien blurted out. He shut his eyes as he was afraid of your response. He didn't want to see your face of disgust as he just admitted his feelings for you. But something he thought would never happened, happened. He felt your soft hands cup his cheeks and the feeling of your hands pulling him closer to you. His lips touched yours and his heart felt like it was going to explode. You had kissed him he never expected this. He dreamed about it sure but he never expected to be able to feel how soft your lips were against his own. He was breathless, it was better than he could ever imagined. When you finally pulled away after what was probably a few seconds, but felt like years to him, he stared at you in complete disbelieve. Until your laugh pulled him back into reality. "You know you could have just said that, instead of going through all this. We are gonna have to get married like... now!"

______________________________________________________________

Finally I finished this. I assure you this isn't as good as it origonally was gonna be but yk it is what it is. Also I'm sorry if the ending is shit idk what I was doing lmao.

hope you enjoyed this :)

#wkm damien #damien x reader #mayor damien #markiplier #iswm #iswm captain #wkm #wkm william #wkm the mayor #wkm wilford #wkm y/n #damien the mayor #celine the seer #wilford warfstache #darkiplier

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okiefuckindokie · 11 months

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Now and Then Ch.2

Here is the long awaited chapter to my take on WKM 🤗 It’s been too long and I do plan on still writing for this series (and others that came after WKM like Heist and Space)

I will have my requests closed atm as I still have things to work out but you will see me here and there.

I hope you all enjoy🧡

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Read Chapter 1 here

TRIGGER WARNING: I do have a part in here that involves a p***ck at***k. You can always scroll pass where it says “the fear” and start again the paragraph after the one that follows.

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You needed to get home. You need to get home as fast as you can. This is getting too extreme. What the actual HELL was that?! And how did they know your name? Well, you were just dreaming; of course people in your dreams can know your name. The library is dead quiet. The lights seem slightly dimmer. Is everyone gone? You quickly looked around the library to see if anyone noticed what had just happened. Thankfully no one did. You gather your things and nearly sprint towards the exit. As you head outside, the storm seems to have subsided for now and you make your way to the bus stop. The entire way there you think about anything and everything different to get your mind off your “almost living nightmare”. The bitter breeze nips at your face, making you scrunch it tight. The flickering light poles are the only thing guiding you to your bus stop. You were about to turn the corner to take a seat but you slam into something pretty hard. Losing your balance, you start to tip over but you feel a strong hand grab at your forearm.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”, the male exclaimed. It took you a moment to gather yourself before properly looking at him. The second you do, it took you by surprise by how attractive he actually is. He has a pretty tall and toned physique from what you can see. Nothing dramatic but you can tell he’s an athlete. He wears a black and white jacket with a matching black beanie and blue jeans. His chestnut colored curly locks peek out of the beanie in front of his fair skinned face. His eyes focused on you are soft despite his worried expression. They’re a warm hazel color that fit his features quite well.

You respond with a sigh, “No, no, that was my fault. I should have been more careful.” He looked at your face for a good few seconds. Does he sense something wrong?

He asks, “Are you sure? Because you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.” Oh, if he only knew.. The inner torment you’ve been going through for months now. Countless sleepless nights on top of work and school. It doesn’t even scratch the surface…. He takes your silence as a sign to not go further on the subject. The man sighs as he takes a seat, “Well, the next bus won’t be here for a while.” You hesitantly take yours next to him. “Name’s Benjamin. What’s yours?”.

“Y/N. It’s Y/N.”,you shyly replied. You were running out of things to talk about without seeming too stressed from what just happened. Luckily, your route so happens to come up to the stop, giving you an utter rush of relief. The old, wet, squeaky doors open in front of you and you rise from the bench. You turned to Benjamin and gave him a small farewell smile.

He smiles back and waves, “Nice meeting you, Y/N. Have a good one.” You go on to enter your bus and sit in the very back where nobody else was. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but it’s almost as if you feel like you’ve met him before? Or maybe even just seen him in public? No… that's not it. Oh well. You don't have the mental capacity to be thinking about this. So you reach into your bag and pull out your earbuds to drown out the world for right now.

The rest of the way home was a blur. You don't even remember walking into your apartment. Almost like a trance.. It wasn't until you slammed the front door that took you out of your thoughts.

Darkness….

That was all what accompanied you; and you were fine with that. Accepting being alone was nothing new. Granted, it made life difficult sometimes. But ever since these… dreams… nightmares… visions… whatever they are; you want nothing more than to just be LEFT ALONE. You drop your belongings on the couch closest to you and head towards your room. The dark and dreary hallway is engulfed by the pitch black shadow of night. You drag your feet against the carpet; you’re exhausted. Hell, that’s not even the start of it. At this point, it’s the vein of your existence. You enter your room and it’s still slightly dirty from this morning because you were almost late to the bus. You plop yourself down to your bed facing the ceiling. This… all of this… it's too much. The dreams. The stress. The fear..

Is it really getting to your head? At this point, who really knows. And if you talk about it, who's gonna believe you? Your friends? Family?? Nobody can help you. The more you think about it, the more you feel like the world is suffocating you. Your chest is pounding with your heartbeat. You try to calm yourself down by slowly closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose and out from your mouth. You do this enough so you feel comfortable to open your eyes again. A tear escapes from your eye and trickles down the right side of your head. The second you noticed, it was all over. There was no stopping it, at least for a while. You turned to your side as you quietly sobbed the night away and eventually fell into slumber.

Some hours passed and you awakened with a headache. Finally getting up from your bed, your feet padded across the floor and you get to the kitchen. You reach your arms out slightly to find the lightswitch and your eyes scrunch up when it turns on. Crying a lot really gets you dehydrated so you grab a glass of water from the sink. There is a window above the sink and you gaze at the night sky. It looks… peaceful. Everything seems like it’s in a standstill and you wish with all your heart you could be a part of that. Just for once to be in peace. You take a moment to try to gather your thoughts. Nowadays with this hellish nightmare, what’s there to think about anymore? And who’s gonna care? You sigh and take a sip. As you lower the glass from your lips, you fixate on the leaky faucet. “Is this my life now?”, you asked yourself. The light starts to flicker for a moment and goes out. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, “Ugh, why now?”. You turned to find the lightswitch again and attempted to turn them back on but to no avail. "Stupid wires… even more stupid apatment…”.

You lower your hand from the switch and suddenly feel the air thicken. Your body is gradually getting the pins and needles all over. This makes you shiver to your core. You want to move. You want to retreat back to your room but you can't. You can't move an inch. It's almost as if there's something keeping you in that spot. A faint ringing resonates in your eardrums. They're getting louder. Louder. LOUDER. You harshly wince at the volume. The pain is getting too much and you try to cover your ears. Your face is scrunched up so hard, it might even get stuck. The noise is persistent and there's no stopping it. With all your might, you attempt to combat the noise with your own. You scream, "WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO MEEEE!?".

And just like that, it stopped. Still holding your head in your hands, you try to breathe. The air grows cold, you can see it in your breath. You slowly gain as much composure as you can. You reach for your ears only to feel some blood coming out of one side. Palpitations are almost setting in. The volume of your chest starts to rise and lower rapidly. Your blood pressure is rising by the second. An unsettling presence invades your home as you try to gather yourself until you hear..

“There you are….” His voice was like poison in the air.

“You, my dear, were a hard one to find…”

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ratt-teeth · 1 year

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I really like how this turned out~

Gif under the cut~

#oc #oc x canon #ocxcanon #fan character #wilford warfstache #warfstache #celine the seer #wkm #markiplier egos #artists on tumblr #digital art #ratt teeth art #ratt teeth ocs #Wil and Mags

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daisychainsposts · 1 year

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Is the fandom in agreement that Celine and Will were soulmates or is that just a personal hc?

#william x celine #celine wkm #celine the seer #ahwm wilford #wiline #william j barnum #wkm william

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pipers-pit · 2 years

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Abandoned.

Warning: Angst! Summary: You, the DA, having to deal and comprehend what had happened just after dark turned away from the mirror in WKM (Who Killed Markiplier?). You do not understand what happened, and what could happen in the future. But a small voice always is snooping in your ears. What will happen when they finally can speak to you outside the mirror? w/c: 1352! Previous Chapters: Chapter two (link) Chapter three (link) Chapter four (link) Authors note at the end! <3 it is long so lol! ___________________________________________________

The shakiness in your hands, the faint pinches of desperate adrenaline finally melting away as they did, felt almost unbearable as you punched against the mirror. You watched as the mirror broke in front of you, the view of your friend’s corrupted state showing in front of you.

You screamed Damien and Celine’s names as the dark figure, who held the gentle face of Damien yet held no true sharing but pure anger and vengeance, turned and walked away. The sound of William’s mental breaking being the only true sound you could hear afterwards.

They abandoned you.

No... Damien would not leave you here without reason, he would come back.

They played you like a broken hand, you had been tricked like a lamb left to a pack of wolves.

You fell to your knees and almost felt the broken despair and denial course through your mind at a rate you could not comprehend. You never wanted this to happen. You simply wanted to catch up with old friends at a poker night, not be a part of an investigation of a murder driven by the tenses of falsehood and jealousy. Yet here you were, the last one left.

You sat in the same spot for days, weeks, who knows. You could not entirely tell the time besides the small glances of sunshine you could spot when you looked out the mirror. You never did it much. It always made you emotional and give the false sense of comforting hope with any little creak heard that someone was there, for you. Yet, no one ever did come. The stages of grief slowly running over you as you got the chance to finally sit and think it all over.

You remember the last true voice you heard was William. It was in the evening of when all hell broke loose, he did not stay long after his broken yelling rang through the empty halls. You oddly missed seeing him, even if you did have the reminder of his wrongdoings to you forever scarred against your skin.

You lifted the shirt you had on and cringed, the bullet scars against your skin did not entirely look healed, but they did not look infected either. It as if the void had stopped all source of the injury continuing to worse, yet, you almost wished it would. You did not want to be stuck like this, alone, being tormented by the mental demons you had before this point in your misery.

You stood watching the mirror with the purest intent of anger and disgust. You had been driven to the point of madness a long time ago, yet here you were, in every stage of denial with it. You watched as the dust clung to everything in the manor like a thick blanket. The once bright and beautiful sight of the manor now was nothing more than a haunting spot for annoying humans of young adolescent and older to come study what had happened in the place you had to consider your hell bound home. Home. You hardly wanted to consider it such, it was simply more a deadly prison with mental torment being the only thing you could see. You could almost understand what drove Mark to his state of corruption before his own self done demise.

You moved close as you heard the sound of the door opening, almost perking a brow for a moment seeing the familiar terror driven teens walking inside. You watched with the purest hatred for a moment, glaring as you watched them walk around freely. Their curious and fearful glances around the dust clung home made you scoff.

“Guys come on, its just an abandoned mansion! Why act so scared?”

You watched as an easily twenty-year-old boy walk forward, almost shaking your head as he looked at the mirror. Not entirely knowing your eyes stared at him with pure jealousy laced inside them. As he turned to walk away to hear the pleas of his friends to leave, you put your hand against the mirror, almost expecting the resistance to occur. Yet, it did not. For the first time, you felt the tinge of hope take over as you walked further into the mirror. The sight of your being able to finally escape the voided prison almost making your, self-assumed, immortal body swell up with emotion. You stepped onto the ground and almost felt the shakiness in your voice take over as you gasped. “Finally...” You muttered, almost having to stop yourself from collapsing from the overwhelming situation.

“Can we please leave?”

“No, maybe they left, and we can find out why.”

“Who cares Sam! I swear this place gives off the creeping vibes of someone watching me.”

“Corey, you say that about everywhere we go, just relax we won’t be long.”

You watched the group and almost snickered at the sight, almost walking painfully slow as if they could hear the forgotten footsteps, you were not used to hearing. You did not care that they were in this place, let them investigate, they will get bored like the rest and leave.

Get rid of them.

You turned sharply, almost perking a brow at the voice. It was not attached to the group that was there, you were in the office. You tensed for a moment as you looked at the walls, seeing the old papers scattered on the floor. You brushed your hands against the string attaching to each picture. Seeing the face of William almost tortured your heart, it had been so long since you even saw any sight of him. You ... had almost forgotten about him.

They’ll just leave you like Damien did.

You almost felt a growl escape at the hearing of his name.

“Don’t speak of that bastard..”

You muttered, glaring at the newspaper with the face of the man you once trusted. The anger practically settled over any emotion as you gripped your nails into your palms. It did not hurt. You could not feel the pain, you barely could feel much anymore. You looked at your hands and almost scoffed seeing the nail marks soon regulate back to normalcy, as if you hadn’t done a thing to them. “Mark, I can see why they traced so much death to your name.” You muttered, almost shaking your head hearing how hoarse your voice was after so long. Hell, you were surprised you could hear yourself after not speaking.

Do you really want to let them mock you?

You looked around in desperation to put a face to the voice, but all it did was make you let out a noise of frustration. Soon grabbing a nearby glass as you, not entirely comprehending it, threw it. The harsh screams soon escaping your throat as you yelled out.

“DO NOT TALK TO ME LIKE YOU UNDERSTAND MY ANGER.”

You soon stood frozen as the sound of broken glass bouncing off the walls echoed through the walls, almost making your own fear take over as you backed up, tripping back against the chair as you fell back against it, the wood bouncing against the floor from the impact as you looked at what you had done. “CAN WE PLEASE GO?”

“What the fuck was that, Sam?!”

“Is someone else here?”

You turned from your spot on the ground to see the small group fleeing away, the fearing one almost doing the smart thing as he bolted. The echoes of his friends yelling his name and chasing after him almost made your heart coil in jealousy.

You poor child.

Always being the one left to suffer.

To endure the pain of others without choice without trickery.

What if you could get them back for what they had done?

You shook your head as you hugged your legs to your chest, your hands wrapping around your ears as if you could stop the voice. The forgotten warmth of the fearful tears you never wanted again soon took over. “Please... please stop.”

Do not worry your little head, little lamb.

I will stop soon...very very soon.

A/N: OH MY GODD I finally did it. I wrote it.

Hello everyone! I am colt, your neighborhood angst addict who may have too much impulse! :D

If confused, the italics are inner monologue/the corrupted manor’s voice in your mind. I personally see the house having an inner voice that can speak to specific people if their mental walls are broken enough and etc.

#who killed markiplier #darkiplier #markiplier #wilford warfstache #markiplier x reader #wkm the mayor #wkm detective #wkm actor mark #wkm damien #wkm celine #fanfic #markiplier fandom #markiplier fanfiction #angst angst angst

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