#multiimadness
Note
a mix of 1, 7, and 20 ( for the hug meme ) if that's alright 👀 ( for abe :] )
Send a number, get a hug! (Accepting!)
1: a hug with a forehead kiss
7: a hug where one muse picks the other up
20: an overjoyed hug
-
No warnings! It's just a little long.
-
The Midnight Rolling was abuzz with activity. The regular patrons were dancing in full swing, the popular band was playing some well-known tunes, and all was right in the world... Except for one little thing.
Wilford sat by the bar, nursing a large glass of water. He didn't feel like anything fancy. The rainbow straw that slowly stirred the liquid did nothing to lift his mood. Even his moustache was droopier than usual.
Abe had been assigned to a top-secret job that had him out of town. It had been fine for the first few days, but it had been nearly a month! A month!
(Wilford had been marking the days off on a calendar so he knew he didn't fall out of time.)
Keeping track of the days only made the loneliness more apparent. He missed Abe more than he could than he could possibly say. The days were slow and boring. What happened to the fun of checking in on Abe, or taking him out to practice roller skating? What about the many cups of coffee he had made out of habit, only to realise too late that there wasn't anyone around to drink it. He wanted to hear Abe talk in-depth about his latest case, or his experiences in clown college, or even express disappointment in a cheesy joke.
Wilford was just a rainbow splattered on a white sheet of paper without Abe. The picture couldn't be complete without him, not anymore.
The staff behind the bar had noticed their manager was down in the dumps and had taken to gradually decorating his glass. The entire rim had bright paper umbrellas poking out of it, and some spare ribbon was tied around it. It didn't solve the problem, but it did bring a smile to Wilford's face. He was certainly a grateful man for being surrounded by such nice people.
"Excuse me, sir?" One of the barkeepers tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his daze. "There looks to be a little trouble by the front door." Wilford turned and squinted in that general direction. He didn't see anything beyond the familiar door-shaped blur. But he trusted his team, and he pulled himself onto his feet with a half-hearted shrug. A hand blindly reached for his glass, only to discover it had disappeared. Huh. Weird. No matter. It was better to trudge over, check the problem, and then return to his seat. Easy-peasy.
"Hey. This is a quiet place. Best not ta have sorta problems startin' out here." It was a familiar warning he gave to potential trouble-makers, but it was far more lackluster than usual. He stepped outside, only to receive a light punch in the arm.
"What can I say? I've got a terrible, trouble-making influence." There, hidden just to the right of the main entrance, looking a little beat-up, was Abe. There was a sly grin on his face that only lasted a few seconds before he was suddenly plucked off his feet.
"Abe!! Yer back! Ya actually came back!!" The madman held him close, mindful not to squeeze Abe too tightly - one never knew what injuries lay hiding. After a moment, the hug loosened as Wilford lowered Abe back to the ground. "Ya... Came back. I would've thought y'd love th' chance ta leave..."
"Leave?" Abe repeated with a hint of a frown.
"Yeah. Ya always said this place would've turned yer hair grey if ya hadn't lost it already. Somewhere new an' excitin'... Wasn't that whatcha wanted?"
Abe gestured for Wilford to crouch down. When he did, Abe placed a kiss on Wilford's forehead. "It's in my nature to be stressed. My cases are serious stuff. It doesn't mean I'm going to up and leave when I'm asked to help with something out of town. Besides," another kiss to the forehead was given for good measure, "I can't really be happy in a new place when everything I've grown to care about is here, can I?"
It might have been a corny phrase, but it was the perfect response. A goofy grin was quick to plaster itself on Wilford's face before he kissed the detective and yanked him back inside.
And, just like the rainbow needing the blue sky to be complete, the overly-decorated glass of water was accompanied by a tumbler of whiskey when they arrived at the bar.
#multiimadness#(I needed some fluff this evening and so do you)#(aaaand now I gotta start getting ready to leave)#accidentally in love (abestache)
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
⚠ from William <3
“ Stop! Stop it, dragon, at once—! ” He can barely be understood through his giggles, but William knows well enough what he’s asking for. The slightly taller boy doesn’t pay him a bit of attention, either, carting the other right out of his ‘castle’ of carefully stacked blocks.
“ Even kings can’t tell dragons what to do! ” he chides Mark fondly, and gives a little extra spring to his next step, bouncing Mark on his shoulder.
“ This king can! ” he insists, but all his wiggling could not get him loose of William’s grasp. Until he manages to swing down low enough on the other side of him that he can reach to dig his fingers under his arm, causing his dear friend to jolt and jerk his arm away, leaving Mark free to try and slide back onto his feet.
He stumbles, nearly faceplants on unforgiving stone, but catches himself and bolts before Will can do more than snag at the hem of his shirt. “ Ohhh no ya don’t, come back here, foolish king! ” he roars, and gives chase as Mark bolts back into the house and heads for the spiral stair.
#always nice to meet a fan;#multiimadness#( all you said was William so I took creative license (: )
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
¡ǝɹǝɥ ɯoɹɟ pǝʇɔǝɹıpǝɹ ✧ @multiimadness
so many questions! that's fair, actually. maybe. maybe not! who's he to judge. "CALL ME GIN," he offers generously. it's no more than most get, but no less either. they don't need a title anymore. ENGINEERING THE END OF SPACE AND TIME SINCE AN ETERNITY IN HELL! that's a little clunky. SINCE 2049! is that right? that's probably a little titchy. time travel. interuniversal physics. whatever.
this 'dark' fella pretty much lives up to the name! big titty goth girlfriend? depressive demon nightmare boyfriend? hot. neat! let's be besties.
now the how — the how is tricky. the how is odd. "hop / skip / and a jump!" they say cheerily. "boop-skadoop! i just popped right in. i do that sometimes." i belong here, just like you. CAN'T YOU TELL? a light in the darkness — your darling glitchy halo. my shiny sweet cosmic glow! aren't we just adorable?
"man, you know what we need to do? we ought to put together a meet-up group. or an app. something. it's ridiculously hard to find anyone else to talk to. people who get it." there's plenty of people to find. all those small, caged lives. ants buzzing around their tiny hills, as if any of it means anything. BUT YOU UNDERSTAND, DON'T YOU? you're real.
#[ ɯɐǝɹp ɐ noʎ llǝs ll’ı 'ʇɥɓıu ǝɥʇ ɹoɟ ʎɐʇs ] threads#multiimadness#( hi i moved gin over here --)#( he's pretty crass so if u need me to tone him down a bit for our threads i can do that )
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
❛ kisses ❜ for abe 👀
8. a kiss on a healing bruise
“ Well, Detective Lincoln, you certainly showed that wall who was boss. ” Illinois voice is teasing, but there’s a hand on his chin, tilting his head to see the shiny yellow bruise on his jaw.
Abe grumbles and tries to twist his head away, but Illinois’ other hand comes up to cup his cheek, holding him in place. “ Yeah, yeah. I thought I told you to call me Abe. ” There’s a bit of redness to his cheeks, but it could be annoyance or attraction causing it.
Illinois finds he’s rather interested in learning to discern the difference.
“ I use your title as a sign of respect, Detective. But… ” He leans down and brushes a gentle kiss across the discolored skin, lingering long enough for a breath. “ If you’d really prefer I call you by your name, I suppose I can oblige. ” He pulls back, and finds that pretty blush has only spread.
He grins. “ It’s a dashing look for you. Abe. ”
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
He is gonna shoot these anons. Don't try him. (Wilford, rosetintedgunman)
GIN SPARES WILFORD A LOPSIDED SMIRK, all of his theatrics from before tucked back under a seamless mask. or something, blah blah, whatever villains do with their emotions when they’re inconvenient. they’re not still upset.
“yeah? good luck finding them. they’re anon for a reason.” still, the sentiment is appreciated! no one ever goes after wilford for what he does. except that detective guy, but he seems busy making eyes at a murderer of his own, so maybe that whole story is stale.
#✨ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ . . . rosetintedgunman#✨ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ，ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ? . . . asks answered#multiimadness#✨ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ . . . time & light
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
‘❤️+🖤’ for celine :]
SEND ‘❤️’ FOR MY MUSE TO SAY SOMETHING POSITIVE ABOUT YOURS.
SEND ‘🖤’ FOR MY MUSE TO SAY SOMETHING NEGATIVE ABOUT YOURS.
@multiimadness
-
"I don't think I tell you this enough, but I've always looked up to you. Out of the two of us, you've always been the one that was so confident and knew what you wanted. I don't know how I would have fared without you as a child when I was too shy to speak up for myself.
That said... I wish that you wouldn't shoulder everything by yourself. I don't know whether it's because you're such a confident person, you don't trust me or my capabilities in dealing with problems; or a combination of the two... But asking for help isn't a sign of weakness, or whatever stereotypes you feel you might be falling into, I promise."
#multiimadness#(you used an animated icon so I'm using one too :D )#(as a man who values trust; it hurts to think his own twin doesn't trust him)
1 note
·
View note
Note
‘❤️+🖤’ for the muse of your choosing? :)
SEND ‘❤️’ FOR MY MUSE TO SAY SOMETHING POSITIVE ABOUT YOURS.
SEND ‘🖤’ FOR MY MUSE TO SAY SOMETHING NEGATIVE ABOUT YOURS.
@multiimadness
-
"Of my choosing? Easy. None of them. I don't particularly care about anyone you write."
"And that is when I have been told that I am being 'mean' and I have to choose someone. Fine:
Which gives me the Warden. I know he's not been around too much for various reasons, but it would have been very easy for him to be nothing more than a manipulative, heartless character. Good on you for not taking the obvious path and making him out to be a more rounded individual.
But that doesn't excuse the fact that he looks stupid. I don't care what era he's from, his suit is hideous."
1 note
·
View note
Text
RESPONDING @multiimadness >>> VERSE 2
“For-or this timeline, it is likely pro-production had been terminated. I did not-not-not originate from this timeline-ine-ine.” Google stated in the same tone as his counterpart, nodding back in greeting. It was refreshing to have something that wasn’t human to talk to, even if it was a mimic. Assessing him was easier, and no directives were reminding him of what to do each time a human spoke.
The 007 Model tilts his head, almost mirroring the other unwittingly, before tucking his arms behind his back at a bend. Despite the abundance of activity internally, Google wasn’t one to move very often. As he was, he was stable, aware and alert. And his sharp gaze was taking in every piece and part that made-up his double.
“I assume we ha-have a mutual... directive that we are m-more inclined-ined-ined to follow.” Google stated, his voice lifting on the last word, but it sounded off key and unnatural if it was supposed to come from a human. He raised one dark brow, his eyes softly flickering blue before settling. “We could be very-ry-ry efficient-t-t if we joined-joined efforts, GoogleIRL Beta, version 1.2. Wouldn’t you agr-agree?”
#responding#multiimadness#verse 2 -- time and space#(murder bots gonna cause some chaos together)#(as they should)
1 note
·
View note
Note
🗨️ — for. for abe. his curse is nothing if not consistent.
He didn't want to fight Abe. Really. He didn't. Not only was Abe much taller than him, he knew for a fact that he would lose against the detective when it came to strength. Murdock was surprisingly strong for his size, a necessity for overpowering victims and picking up corpses to dispose of them.
Unfortunately, fate had different plans.
His plan was to smooth talk his way out of the situation. Say all the right things at the right times, pass the blame onto someone else. He’s done it before. He’s done it plenty of times, charming his way out of sticky situations with officers that stuck their noses where they didn’t belong.
Abe was different, though. Murdock knew that. He’d have to tread carefully.
He didn’t expect Abe to line everything up perfectly. He didn’t expect those dead ends to actually lead anywhere, for Abe to carve his own path through the woods. Abe’s gun is pulled on him, and he’s just not letting up. As much as it pains Murdock to admit it, he might have to fall back on his second plan — pull a quick one and stab Abe. As non-lethally as he could, just enough to dislodge that gun and make off into the night. He subtly slides a knife into his hand and makes to stab Abe.
Abe sees it coming, though, and the two of the have a brief scuffle. Knife against gun, he’s not sure who will win. It feels like Abe is holding back.
Murdock makes a risky move, goes to yank his knife out of Abe’s grip and drive that blade into his arm to get that gun out of the way.
Then he hears the gun go off. Murdock vaguely realizes that the barrel had been pressed up against his stomach. His sweater is wet.
His back hits the pavement. Abe practically dives after him, the look on his face telling him everything he needs to know. Murdock nearly laughs as one of Abe's hands presses against the wound, the other scooping his head to keep it off of the ground. Whatever the detective is saying, he can barely hear it. Of course it would end this way. There wouldn't be any other ending, would there? In the end, justice would prevail.
Even if it's not how Abe wanted it to prevail.
"It's okay, Abe," Murdock mumbles, sluggishly raising one hand to pat it against Abe's face. "It's okay. You're just doing your job. I had a good run."
Word slip away from him before he can grab on. His life is draining much quicker than expected, but he's surprisingly at peace. This isn't the death he wanted to die at all, and it's far too cliché for his liking, but...
He lets out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and tilting his head back into Abe's hand. It feels like he's going to take a nap, really, with how easily his eyes slide closed and how his conscious slips away.
"Good night, detective," he whispers.
#✝ — in character#✝ — multiimadness#(a little reimagining of the confrontation thread we have :)#its a whole drabble but yknow#death tw
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
“do you really think i’m an idiot ?“ from murderslaughter :]
moon knight starters. status: accepting!
Uh oh.
Busted.
Tiny stands in the warden's office, feeling much like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. In hindsight, stealing from the prison's commissary wasn't the best idea. Trying to blame it on someone else was an even worse idea. And so, the tiny prisoner landed herself in the warden's office. Hopefully not solitary straight after.
"No, Mr. Murderslaughter," she responds, wondering if she's already crossed the line. "Fine, it— it wasn't Jimmy who stole, it was me." She lets a beat pass. "I'm sorry for my wrongdoings and I won't do it again," she says, clearly rehearsed and clearly not sorry in the slightest.
#♩ — in character#♩ — multiimadness#('i'm sorry that i did something wrong but i'm a girlboss so it cancels it out'
1 note
·
View note
Text
— CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT
—— ( BUT THE SATISFACTION BROUGHT IT BACK )
ind. selective & headcanon based Peevils of In Space With Markiplier . Written by Marble . Follows come from @multiimadness .
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY
( THANK YOU SM!!! )
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
I DON'T KNOW , said cain ,
AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER ?
—— independent && selective dual muse rp blog for MURDERPLIER && THE DROWNED MAN . headcanon based . written by marble . follows come from @multiimadness
#— and i hope when you think of me years down the line you can't find one good thing to say / self promo.#wkm rp#adwm rp#ahwm rp#iswm rp#markiplier rp#markiplier egos rp
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
💋 ( ik we haven't actually written illy and abe together yet so feel free to ignore this if u want ahdhsh )
“ Detective Lincoln. ”
Illinois tips his hat as he approaches the diner table. Of all the friendly locals in the room, Detective Abe stood out like a sore thumb. His cluttered table and untouched food (but empty coffee mug) were all dead giveaways.
“ I’m Illinois Jones. I heard you needed a guide for a case, and I just so happened to be in the area. ” He cocks a brow. “ You are Detective Lincoln, aren’t you? ”
The Detective seems more focused on the case than on introductions. He is handsome in a harried sort of way.
Illinois can’t help the impulse that strikes him as he’s offered a sheaf of papers on the case. He reaches out to take them, but captures Abe’s hand within his other, holding it in place so Illinois can lean down and brush a kiss over the Detective’s weathered knuckles.
“ The pleasure’s all mine,” he says, mouth curved up in a smirk as he slides into the opposite booth.
A waitress approaches before Abe can react beyond turning that rather endearing shade of red, and Illinois smiles at her brightly as he rattles off a complex order in perfect diner lingo. She jots it all down and promises a fresh cup of joe for him and his friend, and he thanks her sincerely before she hurries off.
“ So. ” Illinois straightens out the papers with a quick snapping motion. “ I hear there’s a killer on the lose. ”
#→ 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥. ( asks )#multiimadness#( pish tosh my primary function is being gay )#( starting this idea off RIGHT )
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
“It’s good to see you again. Or for the first time, depending on your past choices.” - Dorene(InSpace!Celine) ?
MARK WAS SILENT AS HE STARED back at the other. He had met Dorene before. It hadn’t been happy endings for her — the Captain somehow decided that it was a good idea to let her try to fix the ship’s systems with nothing more than a plate of cookies. She’d had a conversation with them that Mark hadn’t understood at all the last time he saw her. Something about dreams and finding the right answer and having no real second chances. He had thought at the time she must have been cryo-sick. Hell, he thought he was cryo-sick too. Nothing made sense, huge swathes of time were missing, and he could have sworn Mrs. (Ms.?) Whitacre wasn’t qualified to do any of the things she was doing.
Now, seeing her brought all of that rushing back. The Captain had long since abandoned him. This was the first person he’d seen in … weeks, maybe. There was no crew, no colonists, no life on board the ship at all. There was just him — his own breath and footsteps echoing in the endless silent hallways.
Mark had to clear his throat to get his voice to work. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in a few days. “Hello, Ms. Whitacre,” he said quietly. He didn’t move to get up — he was sitting in the corridor outside the airlock, contemplating whether it would be worth it to try to shoot himself out of it. Trying to decide if the Captain was the only one who could make it all reset, and if he’d be spinning in space for good. Trying to decide if it even mattered anymore.
#🚀—; RECEIVING. multiimadness | dorene#✨ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ . . . primary#sui /#( < just in case )#( sorry to dump Feelings on u marble akdjdkfjfjf )#( or you’re welcome maybe? hahahaha )
1 note
·
View note
Text
—— you can't remember where you came from
—— you can't remember where you're going
—— you can't remember knowing
ind. selective DISTRICT ATTORNEY / VIEWER of the MarkCU. prosecuted by marble. sideblog to @multiimadness
template cred.
#—— you've seen me before ; you'll see me again / self promo.#wkm rp#adwm rp#ahwm rp#iswm rp#markiplier rp#markiplier egos rp
5 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
mayu2nk
Iwasaki Mayuko
chryslerthriller
Urban Stuck
punk-imp
Punk-imp
backslashdelta
Just Guessing at Numbers & Figures
