#Eccentric Goof (Colonel)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Dilliam: Running Away Makes Matters Worse

In Who Killed Markiplier?, William made it his mission to avoid Damien once they had their argument. They do not have a one-on-one conversation after that. It got me thinking - surely that’s not the only time William ran away from problems instead of talking about them properly. What if, instead of a yearning period, Dilliam started with William trying to run from it?

Word Count: 1,134

-

Damien had accepted that he had fallen for William. It was something he had struggled to come to terms with, but ultimately decided that he would try to do something about it. Or rather, he would have… If William hadn’t been avoiding him for months now.

When they were in a group? There was nothing wrong. Everything was fine and dandy. But it quickly came to Damien's attention that if the pair had to be left alone, William was fumbling over his words to find an excuse to leave. Mark didn't think anything was off. Celine questioned whether Damien was overthinking matters. Eventually, he stopped asking. William never turned tail when stuck alone with either of them.

Damien tried to find a middle ground and encourage William to stay, even going as far as straight-up asking William to accompany him on a walk in the park, followed by drinks in the hope that he could use it as a chance to tell William how he felt. But it never worked. William would always find a flimsy excuse to refuse and flee.

-

It was Friday night at the Grand Theatre. Mark had invited Damien and William to a performance he was in, with Celine to join them once she returned from socialising with friends. The three men merrily chatted in the lobby, sharing jokes and stories from recent days. It was just like old times. But when Mark apologised as he departed to the backstage area to get ready, the illusion popped like a bubble.

Damien skimmed through the program that was left, only managing to mentally count to twelve before William's shuffling grew too hard to ignore.

"Something wrong?" asked Damien calmly, as though he didn't know what was about to happen.

"You know… I'm starved. Absolutely famished. I think I'm going to pop over to the bar for a quick bite to eat." 

"You told Mark and I that you had a massive lunch that you were still recovering from. Try again."

"I'm pretty sure I know how hungry I am, Damien."

"Mhmm." His eyes lowered to the programme again. "Yet when Mark made the offer of buying snacks with our drinks before he left, you declined."

"Because I wasn't hungry then. Anyone could see that." Someone rose to their feet, but it wasn't William. Instead, it was Damien. He closed the programme and placed it on the table.

“If we’re going to make obvious statements, then I shall do you a favour and leave so you can stop lying to me. I can go to the show tomorrow night instead." He snatched his cane and turned to go.

"Damien, why are you being so immature right now?"

"Oh. I see how it is. You can act as childish as you want when you leave and it’s fine. Yet when I decide to leave, I’m accused of being the immature one?” William tried to object, but Damien continued, "No. You don't get to try and spew whatever ridiculous excuse comes to mind. Don't think I haven't noticed your swift departure every time we're left alone. Suddenly needing some air after returning from an outdoor event, running for a restroom and staying there for twenty minutes, forgetting where you left your coat when it was hanging up by the door, even now when you want to order snacks when you said you weren't hungry. I know you don't want to be in my company but you have no excuse to avoid me for good. Instead, you do what you always do and immaturely run away from your problems." He placed the tip of the cane on the floor and leaned against it. "Then I shall give you the excuse you’ve wanted to never be stuck alone with me. Fuck it. You clearly don't like me, so what have I got to lose? I'm in love with you, Colonel. It's why I've been trying to spend time with you alone despite your infuriating immaturity."

It was unsurprising to have no reaction from William. It only made something in Damien’s gut as he realised he was right all along - the man he loved could barely tolerate him. The bandage had been ripped off; there was no point wasting time here anymore.

"Then I shall make my leave. I know when I'm not wanted. Good night." The grip on the cane turned his knuckles white as Damien stormed off. A tiny part of him hoped it would play out like in a play or novel. William would jump to his feet and grab Damien's sleeve. He would admit he was scared and that he loved the politician too. There would be apologies and forgiveness, and all would be well.

But this was real life. No such thing happened, and Damien did not want to even risk looking over his shoulder when he knew he was on the verge of tears. The only thing that stopped him from immediately hurrying off was Celine. She had reached the theatre as he exited the building and was quick to hurry over.

"Damien? What's the matter? Where are you going?"

"I'm going home. Pass my apologies to Mark… I don't feel well." He shrugged her hand off his shoulder as he dejectedly walked away.

-

Inside, Celine found William still sitting, slouched forward with his eyes on his drink as he contemplated getting it refilled. He watched the ice bobbing on the surface. Celine’s arrival had him look up for only a moment, before it returned to his glass.

"Before you ask, I didn't do anything." William's gruff voice made the words difficult to catch when he mumbled.

"You must have done something. Damien has been looking forward to this all week. He was nearly in tears outside." Celine's expression was steeled, ready to fight the Colonel if necessary.

“You don’t understand. I didn’t do anything. I tried to leave when we were alone, but instead he told me he loved me and I - I didn't do anything. I thought his feelings toward me were only platonic. I didn't think he-"

"Wait. So you have been avoiding Damien?"

"What was I supposed to do? I didn't think he'd care about someone like me - oh, don't give me that look, Celine. It’s not like you knew about this." His glass was abruptly snatched and slammed into the table. Then, a fistful of his jacket was taken in her slim hand as she roughly pulled it up, forcing him to look at her.

"Only that I don't want Mark to wonder why none of his friends stayed to support him, we are going to that show. After that, I am dragging your ass to Damien's home so you can clean up your mess. Understood?"

"He's not going to want to talk to-"

"Understood?"

“Fine.”

--

Part Two: You Have To Stop Running

#dilliam #writersofmark #who killed markiplier #damien the mayor #william j barnum #celine the seer #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #Red Soul (Celine) #(mark is mentioned but it's not worth a tag) #(read-more is for tidiness! :D ) #(I had noticed a shortage in new Dilliam stuff so I wanted to rectify that) #food cw

[rosetintedgunman]

OOC: It's such a silly thing to be thinking about in work, but I love the contrast between how Wilf and Will speak and how it is a reflection of his state of mind.

Will has a fairly deep gruff voice, one that is one a semitone away from dropping into something terrifying. There's a hint of a refined accent, presumably from time spent with Mark and the twins. He speaks well, but there's a constant lingering presence of something intimidating. He's a man of power and authority, and he knows it. Yet, if he trusts you, that same energy brings with it a sense of protection. If someone offends you, he will punch them square on the nose for you. It's an eccentric, cliché "safari hunter" impression, but it's still one that's grounded and could reasonably work.

And yet, when his grip on reality slips, so too does his accent. It loosens into something that almost sounds like a drunken slur at points. The warmth in the voice is still there, but now there's a sense of unease. Wilf is more unhinged. His latest ramble could mean something good or something very dangerous, and you won't know until it's too late. Add to his very expressive face (it is hard to do an impression of him with a straight face) and use of hands, and it's quite a different story to how the Colonel presented himself, and would be more fitting to a cartoon character (or a live action kids movie.... Or J.im Carrey)

Then! Compare this to how he is during Motherloving. The accent is looser than it was as Will, but not as slurred as Wilf. Again, it reflects that in between state he finds himself in as he tries to find his position in the mess he's in. My phone Internet is down while writing this so I can't actually check for comparison, but even the body language is a nice mix of the two extremes. It's more sincere at points, yet also silly. Nothing is overly unreasonable for the Colonel (we did see him goofing around, don't forget), yet is slightly tamer than what Wilf has done (no weapon really helps with this tbh)

#(anyway I love my boy. And M.otherloving will always have a place in my heart) #(it basically confirmed I was on the right track with writing Wilf after all) #just the intern (ooc) #(and yes phone internet is just back as work is over)

[dienli]

rei && iroh for the ship meme .

ship meme || accepting

uhhh this is slightly challenging because it’s not between two canon characters but i’ll do my best! under a break for length >>>

• when or if I started shipping it: Rei was intended (expected?) not to be a shipworthy character, just a painfully low-class citizen of Republic City trying to keep her shop alive while doing some brilliant science...but somehow a starter where she failed to recognize the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation on sight, assuming he was the manager and getting angry at him for overcharging her in the Jasmine Dragon, led to this shit• my thoughts: g a y. nah i love them together. i’m good friends with irohthesecond’s mun who is definitely not sexually attracted to boats or any of napoleon’s generals (i got ur back buddy they’ll never know). our historical- and shitpost-flavored irei headcanon jams are everything• What makes me happy about them: they’re both once-in-a-lifetime eccentric, interesting, world-changing people. they’re painfully intelligent and adventurous and driven and introverted, but it manifests in different ways for each of them. their chemistry is amazing, they get weird with each other, their quirks fit well together even though rei is a massive nag. without ever directly discussing it, they make each other better people--rei moderates iroh’s worst impulses, iroh encourages rei to be brave. their kids would be massive assholes who achieve ridiculous things. all in all, good shit.• What makes me sad about them: they can communicate incredibly well about everything except how they feel for each other. both are quite emotionally opaque. iroh doesn’t seem to think about how either of them feel, ever, choosing to live entirely in the moment. rei always assumes the worst about how they feel, doesn’t think they belong together, and is afraid of commitment, which sits at odds with her silent jealousy and possessiveness, causing a lot of internal strife she can’t get rid of. and above all, she doesn’t want her legacy to be ‘famously the lover of Firelord Iroh’ or worse, she wants it to be some incredible and unfathomable scientific discovery she made, or institutions she founded, or inventions that helped humanity, or her leadership, or the similar accomplishments of the great family house she starts. Anything more meaningful than gossip.• things done in art/fic that annoys me: i draw all the art of them and it sucks because i drew it. sure HATE how it’s bad all the time. i also hate how i don’t commission any art of them, kinda bullshit• things I look for in art/fic: uhhh i’ll assume “in rp” since these aren’t canon characters: would love to explore their relationship developing, but these are two very uncooperative muses. related, i’d like to see how they handle extremely stressful situations together. put em through the wringer a bit.• Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: As a long term “canon” ending? i doubt rei would find anyone up to her standards. (technically iroh isn’t even up to her standards, so...) most likely she’d end up romantically alone and just mentor an apprentice to inherit her work and legacy in her old age. iroh, though, is charismatic and would get along with almost anyone. I could see him ending up with korra or asami (assuming they don’t end up together for some reason). otherwise, he seems the type to marry only when and if duty requires, but charm the crap out of whoever the (un?)lucky spouse is.• My happily ever after for them: really undecided on this. I don’t think iroh’s mun and I have even headcanoned this, other than that their tons of letters to each other would be super confusing when analyzed by future historians.• what is their favorite non-sexual activity? they have a lot--debating philosophy and political praxis, talking about current events, eating at hotpot restaurants, goofing around with their pets, hiking and camping, fishing, swimming, listening to the radio, dancing, getting competitive about absolutely anything, trying to imitate Colonel Ho’s Crunchy Fried Chicken recipe (well, Rei tries to imitates it, Iroh test-tastes), lifting (rei mostly watches), yoga (iroh mostly watches). being a paratrooper at some point in his special forces career, he took her skydiving a couple of times.

#Anonymous

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Dilliam: Turn and Face Your Fears Directly

Part One: Running Away Makes Matters Worse

Part Two: You Have To Stop Running

The day after the night before. William was forced to stay in Mark and Celine’s home. But can they fix the mess the coward made?

Word Count: 2,110

-

Everyone in the Manor was up early the next day. William groaned as his door was knocked by a chipper Mark. The owners of the house were far too keen on refusing to let William go home last night, instead insisting that he stay in one of their guest rooms.

They had something planned, William knew it. If they told William what it was, then let him go home, they correctly concluded that William wouldn't return. But it was just after breakfast that William learned the extent Celine and Mark were going to make sure he would be here when Damien was visiting. All the staff had been informed that William was not allowed to leave the property or go to certain parts of the manor. His key had been temporarily confiscated. Then, after he was caught trying to argue his right to stay in the assigned bedroom, he was forced to have company.

Which (unfortunately) meant Celine.

-

They sat in silence in the drawing room for a while. William looked out the window with a bouncing knee, while Celine read a book. Twenty minutes passed before she slammed it shut with a huff.

"You are a soldier. A man who willingly chose to sign up and serve to protect his country. You rose through the ranks to become one of the youngest Colonels. Your uniform is adorned with several medals of bravery. Yet," she glared at William, "you are the biggest coward I know."

"I'm hardly a coward," grumbled William.

"You have avoided Damien for months because you're scared of rejection."

"That's different."

"Different?" Celine rose to her feet and strolled toward a shelf as she spoke. "To me, that is the very act of a coward. But why don't we consult the experts? Ah. Here we are. A dictionary." It was nimbly pulled off the shelf as she began to flip through it. "There it is. Coward, noun: a person who lacks courage in facing danger, difficulty, opposition, pain, etc.; a timid or easily intimidated person."

"Celine, this isn't -"

"Adjective: lacking courage; very fearful or timid. What a surprise!"

"Celine!"

"They even give me alternate words to use to describe you! A craven! A poltroon! A -"

"Okay! Fine! I'm scared! Are you happy?!" He watched Celine close the book and smugly return it to its position. "I've known Damien for as long as I can remember, and I know that I'm not good enough for him. You wouldn't understand."

"Try me." Celine sat down with a posture so straight that William was reminded of days gone by where he would be scolded by a school principal for misbehaving.

"Damien is… Like a prince, if that makes any sense. He's polite, charming, graceful and fancy -"

"He's also stubborn, temperamental when stressed, eager to please. Colonel, he's human, not some deity to place on a pedestal."

"I know that," William shrank in on himself with his arms crossed. "I say this because… Well, look at me. You talk about the medals, but I've done nothing since I came home. The only reason I'm not homeless with nothing to my name is because Mark gave me a job to get me back on my feet. What good would I be by Damien's side?"

"Damien is -"

"Forget he's your brother for a minute. He's a bright young man. He's going to make waves in the legal world, the political world, or both. It makes sense for him to have someone by his side who is also smart and can help keep him going in that direction. Then you look around and notice that this wonderful person has a mess of a man beside him. A washed-up soldier who accompanies hunters on safari trips and has gotten arrested for bar fights. It's the perfect excuse to smear a good man's name… why should Damien want a man like that?"

"Because he wants you in his life." No wonder Damien never confided in Celine. This conversation was already frustrating her. "You're overthinking this way too much. You know that phrase about putting the cart before the horse? The cart is in Chicago while the horse is still here. You need to stop worrying so much. Just ask him out next time you see him. Easy."

"Easy for you to say," muttered William, rolling his eyes. At least Celine finally left him alone after that.

--

An hour passed in silence before Mark poked his head around the door. Something needed his wife's attention. To William's bemusement, the couple swapped places, leaving him in the company of Mark. The actor lounged in his favourite chair with a content sigh. With Celine's departure, the tension lifted, but William knew better than to relax. Mark was the easy-going half of the pair. When not anxious about his work, he went with the flow. Likely, he would be waiting for the perfect opportunity to poke fun at William.

Instead…

"Damien didn't tell me he had a crush on you, for what it's worth. I put the pieces together last year." William's bemused expression must have resonated with Mark, as he was quick to continue, "I mean literally! Do you remember the party weekend I hosted last summer when you came back from your last expedition to Africa? I noticed how Damien seemed a little more withdrawn than usual. At first, I thought he was ill, but I quickly realised that it was nerves. It wasn't long after this point that I learned my hunch was correct - that he was nervous because he had been worried sick about you. There had been news in the papers about a boat crash, and poor Damien's mind began hopping to the worst conclusions - you know how he gets - which had filled him with a sense of regret until you returned safely. He refused to say how long he's harboured feelings for you, but I was the first person he had told."

Mark's final sentence took William by surprise. At least a year. Likely longer. Had William been so unsure that he had missed the obvious?

"So one night, after that weekend, I went to see him, and we started talking. Ever since you had returned, there had been no chance for Damien to talk to you alone. Whether there were parties, family gatherings, interruptions - Damien never had a chance to tell you how he felt. He was too shy to do it in front of a crowd, you see. Anyway," Mark casually tossed one leg over the other as he adjusted his position, "it was truly awful timing, as this was when you started to find excuses to leave. I didn't notice the pattern until three days ago, when Damien was visiting Celine. We agreed that I should leave the lobby earlier. I guessed that you would behave yourself while in a familiar setting… But clearly I didn't know you well enough."

"Where are you going with this, Mark?"

"Oh yes, of course! My point is that this is the perfect setting. After lunch, Celine and I are going to start gathering what I need for the show tonight, and bring Damien in here. All you have to do is not run away." Mark's position changed again. This time, he leaned forward with his interlocked hands resting on his knees. "He's hopeless about you. I've seen it first-hand. He wants you to break the ice and bring up this matter. Is this really worth losing a friendship over, sport?"

William sighed, head bowed. "No. I suppose it isn't."

"Then let's get brainstorming! Surely there's something you want to say to him, right?"

--

At last, William was left alone. Part of him would have rathered the company over the silence. His thoughts had derailed entirely. All he could think about was Damien. Was he really that much of a fool that he would throw all this away? The man who was the definition of perfection loved him. Him! But what could he do about that? Nerves still ate away at him, throwing worst-case scenarios with such force that he felt dizzy.

This sorry state was how Celine found him a little later. She had gently patted his back and suggested that William go into the garden for some fresh air. He agreed, stepping out onto the bright patio. It had been freshly washed to the point of sparkling under the sunlight. The air was crisp, while white, fluffy clouds lazily rolled by overhead. Celine was right. It did help being outside. He could slowly walk along the paved patio, make his way to the bandstand, sit underneath it, right beside Damien -

Oh.

Both men noticed one another at the same time, tensing for different reasons. Damien was first to look away, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the cane resting on his lap tightly to try and keep a façade.

"Damien… I'm sorry, I… I fucked up." It wasn't at all what William and Mark had rehearsed earlier in the day, but the ability to think rationally had conveniently abandoned ship. 

"You don't need to apologise. You wanted the 'out', didn't you?" Damien's response was cold, but William forced himself to keep calm.

"If I really wanted that 'out', would I be talking to you right now?"

"... What do you want?" 

"A chance. A second, a fifth, a twentieth, I don't know how many I've to ask for." William took a slow breath. At last, the conversation he had with Mark was being recalled. "I didn't know what to do. N-not about what happened yesterday, but in general. I was so sure you didn't care about me that way that I built myself up to expect failure -  t-that you wouldn't be interested in someone like me. You deserve the moon and the stars, Damien, someone that will love you and help you reach them on your way to greater things. I… I'm not that person."

"Do you love me?" William jumped in fright. He hadn't heard Damien move, but now he was right in front of the taller man. 

"Well, I… Y-yes." That urge to run and bury himself in the rose garden was bubbling up. It was forcefully ignored.

"Do you?"

"Yes. I do love you. A-and I'm sorry for not being brave enough to do anything about it." He took one of Damien's hands in both of his own. "If you'll have me, I'll be right here. But I understand if you need time after everything I did."

"I'd be a fool to refuse." The manner in which Damien blurted out his answer made him laugh. "I mean, I don't want anyone else. I never have. I just wanted to love you. It always felt right to me."

"You didn't want to date anyone else?"

"All I've ever wanted was someone who loves me and will be by my side on good and bad days. Nothing as far-flung as the moon and stars. Just a man who has crossed the oceans and has seen so much of the world. Someone who would fight for me, who would tell me about his adventures… and someone I know won't run away when things get tough." Damien rested his free hand on top of one of William's. "If you can promise me that, then I am yours."

William couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was too good to be true. Yet, here they were, in a moment that definitely felt real. Damien looked up at him with such warmth and affection. Did William deserve this? Probably not. But Damien wanted him. Maybe he had done something right after all.

He leaned down to lightly kiss Damien. The sound of something clattering against stone was faintly acknowledged as arms wrapped around his neck to pull him back in for a longer, deeper kiss.

"So… is it too late to ask you out for dinner?" William raised an eyebrow to try and redirect from the nerves when they broke apart for air. Damien grinned.

"I haven't even had lunch yet! Mark had insisted I should sit out here and enjoy the scenery while he fetched drinks. I'm surprised he hasn't returned."

"Whereas Celine sent me out to clear my head…"

The pair turned their attention back to the manor. There, waving from the upstairs balcony, were Celine and Mark.

"They set us up."

"Assholes," William mumbled, before a thought hit him. "Then again, they forced me to stop running… and maybe that was for the best."

Damien giggled. "It's good to see you have a trace of bravery." He tugged William in for another kiss, while Celine and Mark made enough fanfare for a small crowd. 

#writersofmark #dilliam #mayor damien #william j barnum #celine the seer #actor Mark #(egads. All four can be tagged!) #(read-more is for tidiness! :D ) #Red Soul (Celine) #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #Shattered Heart (Mark Doom) #(I AM UP AN HOUR LATER THAN USUAL I HAVE WORK IN THE MORNING I MUST SLEEP GOODNIGHT)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Who Killed Markiplier? - Ten Hours

Three years ago, I wrote four drabbles for each episode of Who Killed Markiplier’s anniversary on one of my roleplay blogs. Each one followed William when he wasn’t on screen. I thought it would be fitting to rewrite the fourth drabble for the anniversary of the final episode, where William was left alone with the bodies for an entire night.

With this in mind, this a warning for discussions of death, injuries and a suggestion of harm with a weapon.

Word Count: 1,288

-

William might be considered a madman by many, but he was no fool.

He knew the District Attorney was dead the moment William’s hand failed to catch them and pull them back up. Their body plummeted to the ground, body frozen in the act of trying to reach out to their murderer and their salvation. Even their scream was trapped, little more than a breathless gasp. The sickening crack of bone against the tiles far below made something twist in his stomach, yet he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He was frozen to the spot with one hand reached out like he was a puppet abandoned in the middle of a performance.

At last, his strength abandoned him as William dropped to his knees. Tears welled up as the reality of the moment hit and grief sunk in. An innocent person lay dead far below him, their body crumpled and damaged. Even from far above, he could see the unnatural position of their neck. Accident or not, it was still murder.

That brought the number of deaths to three.

-

Three deaths in twenty-four hours: two happening within five minutes of each other, and the first body vanished without a trace. What would anyone think if they saw this disaster? Then again… Everyone else left. No one would realise he did it. If he threw his gun in the pool and hurried now, he would be able to reach the ports with a changed name by the end of the next day. He could disappear without a trace. What did he have left here now that he cared about was gone and he was alone? He could hide and -

“Colonel.”

A voice, or a draft? An unimportant question as William shot his head around to see the locked door swing open. It dragged him back to the present moment as he rose to his feet. Gingerly approaching, he stopped by the body of the Detective in case this was a trap for a counter-attack. He even reached down to make sure the body was cold before continuing. The room that had been sealed shut by the groundskeeper was empty. No bodies to be found. In fact, William realised it was as though the room had been long abandoned. The chairs and table had been overturned and covered in a heavy layer of dust. The only clean item was Damien’s cane. Despite what looked like the scene of a fight, the cane didn’t even have a smudge on it. It was as perfect as always. Without thinking, William lifted the cane into his hands, in time for a thought to pop into his head -

If Damien left, why did he forget the cane?

Wherever the thought came from served as hope that William desperately clung to. If Damien had left before whatever happened to Celine, and he realised he forgot his cane, he’d surely return for it. It was a trademark - if the cane was left in a room, Damien was never too far away. Therefore, this was forgotten in a hurry. That had to be what happened.

“Damien… What would you do if you were here?” A hand idly rubbed the head of the cane, just like the mayor always did when trying to think through a problem. Damien had brought up getting other authorities involved. When William went to lie down, maybe Damien took matters into his own hands and sought the police. If so, he would return. What good would it do if they arrived to the manor utterly devoid of life? Would Damien be falsely accused of murders?

He blinked. In his daze, he had walked back to the balcony where the District Attorney had fallen to their demise. One deep breath in, one slow exhale. He knew what Damien would do.

-

The journey downstairs was longer than usual, but William knelt beside the Attorney. Their pulse was missing, their hand was cold as ice. Likely, they had died on impact. He could guess that the blow to the neck would have caused irreparable damage to the spinal cord, without even considering any possible breakages in the spine. Then, even if they had survived, slamming their head against the stone tiles would have sealed the deal. Their body was already injured with the bullet in their abdomen. His jacket was unbuttoned and draped over them in respect. Then, after a moment of reflection, he lowered his hand to close their eyes. All he could do now was hope they were at peace.

The Colonel made his way to the bench beside the front door. Sitting there allowed him to see both corpses. If either tried to rise as homo necrosis, he would be ready. Damien wouldn’t approve of anyone going missing - 

“Oh God…” Damien would never forgive him for killing the Attorney. They were Damien’s university friend, the one he always spoke so fondly about, the one that was the grounding force when lectures and exams took their toll and none of the gang could be there to offer support. William was supposed to befriend them and pull them into many pranks and schemes. He was supposed to be the nuisance who would take up space in the office of the District Attorney, rest his feet on the fancy wooden desk and distract them with stories of overseas adventures, or how Damien was such a scaredy-cat when they were children. They might even try to get the Mayor out of work early to live a little and have fun.

Not this.

William could face Damien’s anger. He would face the police and tell them everything that happened. He didn’t mean to do any of this. Mark’s death was an accident, but that didn’t excuse his inability to confess when he had the chance. If he had… The Detective and the Attorney would still be alive. But for now, the night vigil began.

-

Ten hours.

Ten hours watching two corpses with nothing but a faint ticking to break the illusion of being trapped in an eternal moment. Ten hours on alert in case zombified corpses rose to their feet. Ten hours with only death for company. It really makes you think.

Death brings somber reflection with it. How many lives had ended because of him? How much blood had been spilled to justify a war? How many friendships had ended because of him? He had no one but himself to blame. Maybe he was wrong to love Celine, to argue with Mark, to distance himself from Damien. But, as Death reminded him, it was too late to change anything.

-

Morning came slowly after a painfully long night. William’s night watch had resulted in his mind replaying the events of the weekend on a constant loop. The guilt grew with every hour until it suffocated him. Only that he had the cane to keep him grounded, his hands would have taken the alternative choice hiding in his boot… And it was better not to think about what might have happened then.

He knew Damien would hate him. And if Celine had been with him? And Celine? Knowing her temper, she would probably make sure the Colonel suffered for all of this. But it wouldn’t be long now. Maybe no one was at the station when Damien arrived last night. They would be on their way soon. He just needed to hold out a little longer. Then he could help bring an end to his awful chapter and rot in jail. It would make up for him not confessing when Damien approached him in the theatre. It would make up for his cowardice in hiding when the séance started instead of standing guard. It would stop -

The body moved.

#who killed markiplier #writersofmark #william j barnum #william the colonel #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #angst #death tw #injury tw #weapon tw

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Short Snippet: William Returns Home from War

(Disclaimer: Originally written in 2018 and given minor tweaks. Unlike last time, it’s more because I was pretty proud of this at the time xD)

Word Count: 536

-

It was late November, 1918. The world was recovering from years of unrest, trying to settle back into a normality that no longer existed. Things would never be the same again.

Damien was 21 when himself and Mark got word that William was almost home. His efforts in the war had shot him up the ranks to Colonel, something the group would never have thought possible. No doubt it would be a great cause for celebration. The plan was to keep it simple - a night in Mark’s home that would include a perfect meal, good wine, and plenty of conversation. Mark had wanted to throw a lavish party, but Damien pointed out that it might cause William unease after everything he had been through.

So the pair waited at the port with other civilians eagerly awaiting loved ones, while Celine stayed behind to find the finest wine money could buy. Damien had offered a little girl some chocolate while they waited. She grinned at the gift like it was Christmas Day and decided she would keep half of it for her Daddy. It was rather touching. 

With dramatic fanfare, the boat arrived. As was customary, all the soldiers on-board lined up for all to see. The people on shore began excitedly waving and calling out to them, and Mark was quick to join them.

“There! Second on the right, top row. I didn’t think the moustache would be that obvious.” 

–

Damien’s second reaction (after the moustache) was that he was convinced William grew while he was gone. He was more muscular, yes, but taller too. William wasted no time in dropping his bag and pulling the pair into a tight hug.

“I thought I’d never see you two again.” William whispered, becoming emotional at the thoughts of being home, of successfully protecting his friends in the only way he could.

“I knew you’d come back safely,” Damien assured him. That only made the soldier sniff and pull Mark and Damien closer to him. It was a moment the three desperately needed. After the terror of war, and the fear of not knowing someone’s fate for years, a reunion of this kind was not to be rushed. When the group were eventually ready to break the hug, Mark was the first to speak.

“What do you think about steak tonight, William? Just the four of us, like old times?”

“Bully! I’d want nothing more than that! But on one condition.” When he had the attention of the others, William continued, “I want you to call me Colonel, not William. I only allowed those who were my friends to call me that - a way of sticking it to the higher-ups - and I’d like that to continue.”

“Colonel…” Damien repeated softly with a smile. “I think it rather suits you.”

“Better than that rat on your face!” Mark added, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Oh, fuck off Mark!” William let out a booming laugh. “It was the pride of my battalion, I’ll have you know!”

“Yeah, because every team needs an animal mascot!” This earned Mark a thump from William’s bag, and Damien couldn’t control his laughter. It was certainly good to have the gang back together.

#writersofmark #who killed markiplier #actor Mark #william j barnum #mayor damien #short snippet #Shattered Heart (Mark Doom) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #Blue Soul (Damien) #(why was Celine not there? I'm not sure... I think my backstory at the time had Celine conveniently not there? I subtly added her back in) #(scheduled post) #(me? writing happy Actor? More likely than you think)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

If no one has already asked for them ether Damien and William or Dark and Wilford for 1,Have a lovely day and I love your writing.

@mrsdanieljackson

1. Can I Kiss You?

Word Count: 744

-

Mark’s party was extravagant as usual. Couples twirled around the cleared space as the music played. William stayed by the bar, but not in pursuit of alcohol. Instead, he was confined to the sidelines with an injured ankle. He could walk fine, but he’d struggle to dance that fast-paced swing that he adored. Instead, he nursed a soda and wallowed in his sorrows.

Fortunately, the gloomy cloud lifted as a figure caught his attention - Damien. His sweet, precious, handsome, perfect Damien. The politician normally was a reluctant party-goer, as Mark’s galas would turn into unofficial business meetings. Tonight was different. Only close friends of Mark and Celine were invited, and most of them were linked to the world of the arts and theatre. It meant that, for once, Damien could drop his guard and have fun.

(Another reason why William was sulking. He wanted to dance with Damien!)

Damien was deep in conversation with Mark when suddenly, Celine wrapped her hands around the crook of her brother’s elbow and yanked him away with such force that he tripped over his own feet as he tried to keep up. William snorted at the twins’ quick bickering - he could imagine the argument rather clearly! - before Damien offered a hand to Celine. 

In their teenage years, Damien and Celine were quite the dancing pair. They both shared an appreciation for music and the technicalities of dancing in time to the rhythm. According to them, a relative had a connection to one of the string quartet groups in the city, and they were often invited to performances or rehearsals. They had been introduced to a dance instructor, and they were eventually roped into attending lessons. Since the siblings knew each other well, they could work perfectly together. And, it seemed as though they were going to showcase just that.

Celine took Damien’s invitation with a smile, and used her free hand to gesture to the band. They must have been told in advance, as they began playing a song that was best suited for a waltz. The twins’ movements were in perfect sync. So much so, one would think the siblings were drawings come to life. It was almost too perfect to be real. The other guests moved out of the way to allow Damien and Celine full use of the floor. With well-practiced movements, every inch of the space was used to fully show off their routine.

William was mesmerised. It was rare to see them perform without being goaded into it, and rarer still to see Damien in such a merry state. Though his posture was poker straight, there was no ignoring that wide smile on his face as he lost himself to the sequence. With a suit that was different from his normal ‘work outfit’, Damien was the pinnacle of beauty in the biased soldier’s eyes.

The music reached its end, and the room erupted into thunderous applause. William untangled himself from the barstools he had been sprawled across and scrambled over to the crowd that had gathered around the twins. He only had to wait a few minutes before he caught Damien’s attention. In a blink, he had grabbed Damien’s hand and yanked him away from the group until they were outside.

“Will! What are you -”

“Can I kiss you?” William blurted out the question in a far less graceful manner than planned. Damien’s eyes widened at the sudden request. “Sorry, it’s just… Bully. You looked so handsome, Dames. I forgot for a moment just how much I love you.” Though his face was already rosy from the dancing, Damien managed to turn a darker shade of red as he glanced aside in embarrassment. “Hey, don’t start that. I mean it. And I mean it every time I say that I love you… Because you’re the most attractive person I’ve ever seen.” 

Damien felt a warm hand under his chin, guiding his head back to look William in the eye. Under that moustache and large glasses, there was love. It was like they were confessing feelings for the first time all over again. His heart hammered in his chest as he flashed a smile so genuine, it sparkled in his eyes.

“So kiss me.”

Not a second was wasted before William leaned down and closed the gap between them. Damien wrapped his arms around the soldier’s neck to keep them together. They could go back inside in a minute. They both needed this first.

--

((I was listening to my Damien playlist, and ‘Kiss Me’ played as I was writing the final section. I thought it too fitting to not share.))

#dilliam #writersofmark #who killed markiplier #mayor damien #william j barnum #mrsdanieljackson #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #(I know I could have done the first kiss... But I thought it would be cute to have a 'falling in love again' moment)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Mermay - Dilliam - Getting To Know You

William and Damien want to get to know each other, but these things take time. There are more important matters that need to be addressed first.

Read the first part here!

Word Count: 2,159

--

Sure enough, early the next day William hobbled down the steps to the shore. He kept his balance with one hand, and gripped a flask with the other. Unlike the previous day, he wore more layers to keep warm. It made the chilly morning more bearable as the pair sat on the picnic bench. Even so, Damien's high energy and energetic gesturing as he told William the story of when he first met his extended merfamily was infectious. William kept the hot flask in both hands as he sat forward to take in everything and encourage Damien with more questions.

At one point, Damien seemed to snap out of the moment and throw William a concerned look.

"I'm sorry… this, this isn't too much, is it? I don't get to talk about my experiences too much -" He was cut off when he felt a warm hand on his.

"Keep talking. I want to hear everything." William's smile was so wide, it could be seen either side of his bushy moustache. He gave Damien's another reassuring squeeze before lifting his hand away; and Damien had to rapidly suppress the instinct to snatch the hand back. It was such a simple thing, yet Damien felt comfortable enough to keep going.

As it turned out, it was very easy to talk to William. He knew nothing about the world of the ocean, except a small selection of fish names… and even that wasn't right:

("Oh yeah! An orca! That's the one with a horn, right?"

"No. It's the large whale that is black with white markings."

"... Then what am I thinking of?"

"Either a unicornfish or a narwhal, I'd imagine.")

However, as William would later argue, it was because he was normally assigned to tasks on land and was better acquainted with recognising animals, something that Damien was not too confident on:

("But what about that big cat with the hair? You know, the one that has the hair all around its head like this!"

"... Damien, that's what I've been telling you about. Male lions have manes, see?"

"... I knew that.")

Back and forth the conversation went, and Damien could feel a pang of disappointment when Mark came down to accompany them when he returned from rehearsals. Then, to make matters worse, William got a call from Celine regarding something that needed to be reassembled ASAP, so he had to scramble back up.

"Hey… Damien?" Mark broke the silence that had descended on the rocky coast. "I know you were told William was staying for a day or two, but if he gets the all-clear to take off the boot at his appointment tomorrow he has offered to stay longer to help us with odd jobs around the house. Would you be okay with that?"

"Why are you asking me? I don't live here." Damien made quite a considerable effort to give a calm response, and he could only hope that Mark couldn't see through the flimsy act. "It doesn't really affect me what happens up there."

"Well… I wasn’t sure if you were going to continue on your travels soon. If you need to keep on track of your itinerary, don't let our possible change of plan mess with that." Mark's response had Damien cursing his sister. Did both Celine and her partner know about his plight? But Damien knew Mark. If that was the case, there would be obvious teasing. Maybe it was genuine concern on the actor's part. 

"It's alright. I'm not under any time restriction, remember?" One key difference between humans and merfolk was how humans were obsessed with time and schedules, whereas merfolk were more flexible and carefree. "I don't mind staying a little longer. It's nice to be with family again. I'd be a fool to hurry off too fast and miss out on this." Mark's face lit up as he turned to pick up a bag Damien hadn't noticed originally. It was passed to him without any hesitation.

"Speaking of being with family - here. I had this commissioned for you. Consider it a 'new home' gift from both myself and Celine." The merman gingerly opened the present, surprised when he pulled out a small stacked stone ornament on a waterproof pedestal, complete with aqua blue natural sea glass for decoration. "I know you enjoy travelling the seas. Just know that we want this to be your home as much as it is ours when you are in the area. I might only be your brother-in-law to be, but you are still family, and this can be your home if you want it to be. There’s nothing too hard for us to do to make this your home. Just say the word - I have a credit card." Mark reached forward to ruffle Damien's hair, earning himself a dramatically offended hiss in response.

When Mark left, Damien took the decoration in his hands. It was beautiful, and he was enamoured by it… But it made something in his stomach twist. A home… such a concept was different between a merfolk and a human. If they wanted this to be his 'home', were they going to make some sort of enclosure and expect him to ‘settle down’? Celine wouldn't, he knew she never would. Even so, there was the worry if she felt sorry that he would never have a 'home' in the way a human can.

He put the gift into the chest to keep it safe and slipped into the water. He needed time to think about this.

--

"You sure you want to help out? I was kidding about working you to the bone." Celine accompanied William back to the car after his appointment the next day. The crutch and boot were gleefully returned as he was given the all-clear. Now all that was needed was to simply not break it again any time soon.

"Of course! You expect Mark to move things around for you? Or are you planning on killing your fiancé by letting him try his hand at wiring a new light in one of the empty rooms?" He threw Celine an accusatory glare when she laughed at the suggestion. Thankfully, the conversation returned to the matter at hand as they spent the drive to the hardware store deciding what needed to be done in the seafront cottage. 

"Can I ask you a favour?" Celine had stopped in the middle of the 'outdoor' section during their shopping expedition. William screeched the shopping cart to a halt so he could reverse and see what caught her attention. "I want to make the rock pool a place Damien feels comfortable to call home. The positioning of the rocks means it's sheltered from the tides, but I don't know how safe it will be from winter storms. I don't suppose there's anything you can do about that?" William's eyes went from Celine to see what inspired her to request such a job. It was a rock waterfall, an ornament for a garden. The colour of the rocks matched the ones by the sea.

"I'm not sure, only because I've not seen much of it. It'd depend on if the 'pool' is shallow or not. I could try and add some extra support to those rocks that frame the water, maybe check what supports are normally put along beaches to protect coastal towns?" Celine nodded as William spoke, fetching several LED lamps and dropping them into the cart.

"We should ask Damien when we return. I didn't want to bring it up too soon after we moved in because I know he's not one for staying in one place for too long. I suppose it's the mer instincts at play." When she noticed William's confusion, Celine continued, "When we grow up, we normally want to settle down in a house of our own, right? Merfolk might have nesting grounds or communities of their own, but they tend to travel since they can cover large distances in a short amount of time. It's why Damien would often disappear for months at a time." She sighed as she shoved her hands into her pockets. "I wanted a house by the sea so Damien would have a place he could call home too and feel he can stay longer. I can't protect him if he's forever travelling."

"Protect him?"

"You've heard the stories, right? Where people have exotic 'pets' that are categorised as 'mythical'? Having a merman as beautiful as Damien is one thing, but one with fluency in English and an awareness of human behaviours would be a valuable asset to American collectors… Or worse." Even if her hands were hidden, William knew her fists were tightly clenched in anger at the thought of something bad happening. "I don't want anyone to hurt him. Even if he travels the seas and has plenty of connections, he's still my little brother."

"Hey," William braved putting a hand on Celine's shoulder, "It's okay. He'll be okay. We can go back and see how he feels about rubber duck decorations." He pulled back to lift the item in question. They were tiny LED lights on a string, but each light was encased in a small model that resembled a toy rubber duck. "If we got a few of these and draped them around the rocks, it'd really look like home. And look! They're half-price. It's meant to be, Celine." Though still worried for her brother, the distraction worked as Celine finally cracked a smile and lightly shoved William. "What? Oh! You're right. That's far too ambitious. Just the one will do." That was that as it was innocently dropped in, followed by an actual rubber duck toy.

"Trust me. I might not be an outside landscaper-person, but I know we'll be able to make the rock pool the most spiffing place this side of the seven seas!"

-

To William's credit, he had only gathered a handful of impulse purchases that he paid for himself, including a pair of small hanging mirror shaped like a crescent moon and a star as a belated housewarming present ("Mark is the star 'cause he an actor, and you're the moon 'cause of your magic stuff."). Everything else was relevant to the required home improvement jobs that William would be working on over the next few weeks. Once they had brought everything inside, it was then the turn of Mark to bring William out of the house and make the drive to William's family home. William could grab his tools and show his elderly parents that his leg had fully healed. His mother insisted they take a loaf of homemade bread and some cupcakes with them once she had smothered William in hugs and kisses and made him promise to come by while he was in the area.

Meanwhile, the twins sat on one of the large rocks, gazing out over the sea. Damien rested his head on Celine's shoulder as she told him about how her job was going and some of the ideas for the home renovation now that William was staying and ready to work. Damien held her phone, idly scrolling through the photos as she explained what was going on, until he realised the next few photos were of the area they were in.

"- some sort of way to make this place a little safer in the storms. Do you think you could have a think and see what can be done?"

"I'll think about it." Damien returned the phone to Celine as he sat up straight. "Whatever happens will happen, I suppose."

"But this is your home. Whatever happens here is your choice first and foremost."

"Yeah, sure."

"Damien. I'm serious." She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, only for him to pull away. The fins on his collarbones flared briefly in agitation.

"This is your home, Celine. You don't need to pretend that I have a say in any of this, or that you'd even listen to what I'd want anyway. I don't need your pity because I can't go buy a house like you can."

"That's not what this about-"

"Isn't it? Don't think I never heard those conversations you had with Mom and Dad about wishing I could 'settle down'. I'd bet you even want to build me some sort of little enclosure to make up for that fact."

"Damien, stop that!" But it was too late. He had slipped into the water. Confused and frustrated, but wanting to avoid further argument, Celine stormed back up to the house.

Mark and William had decided to cut into the bread when the back door opened. Their argument on what would best accompany their snacks was abruptly cut off as Celine marched past them and down the corridor, before a door slammed shut. A silent nod was swapped between the men. Something happened between the twins. Food could wait. They needed to get to the bottom of this. ---

(I normally don’t stick these notes on the bottom, but I’m planning on spreading out this story over the month. It’s currently 20 pages on g.oogle docs total, so there definitely will be more. However, I will be putting the next part up tomorrow since 1. I’m not mean to leave it on a cliffhanger for several days and 2. It was waaay too long to put everything as one chapter)

#mermay #dilliam #writersofmark #mayor damien #william j barnum #(I never wanna tag Mark and Celine since they play a minor role) #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #Shattered Heart (Mark Doom) #Red Soul (Celine) #(read-more is for tidiness! :D )

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

19 with dilliam?

19. “Come Home With Me”

Word count: 460

William had come home from one of his overseas adventures and had spent the entire day regaling the events to his closest friends in the Manor. No alcohol was had - Mark insisted they had a ‘dry night’ since he was in the middle of rehearsals for a play - yet all four were in high spirits. None more so than Damien, who felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Mark had plopped William’s safari hat on the politician’s head at one point, and Damien had laid claim to one of William’s ‘adventure journals’ to peruse. Like the others in this ‘set’, it went into better detail of daily events, despite William’s bad spelling in certain parts. But as Damien flipped through it, he noticed a makeshift pocket hidden behind one of the dividers. One word was written on the page: Damien. 

Hazel eyes shot up, terrified that someone else had seen this. The other three were trying to decipher one of the notes left by a friend of Celine’s (from where he was sitting, Damien could clearly make out Celine’s scoff of “she always had terrible handwriting. Don’t feel embarrassed”). The distraction was a welcome relief. Damien returned his attention to the journal and gingerly opened the pocket. A small note was folded up. He barely had it open and he recognised William’s scrawl. Who knew that such a simple thing could make his heart skip a beat?

“My beloved,

We need to travel together one day. Not to one of Mark’s parties, but overseas! Africa might be too far, but you’d love France! There’s colour there. It’s not like the boring red bricks, or the dull grey blocks. And the food! It’s bloody brilliant!

I miss you. Adventures are such fun, but I learned something. I wish I could show you everything. Stories and pencil drawings aren’t the same as being here. If I could show you what’s in my brain, I would. 

God… I really do miss you, Dames. I love you.

Will.”

The note was gently folded up and placed in his jacket pocket. Three slow breaths helped him try and regain some sort of composure before he rose to his feet with the journal in his hands.

“Damien, you must see this!” Celine took his hand and yanked him to the repurposed desk. “The Colonel says one of the local guides gifted him this stone elephant! I’ve never seen anything like it!” Damien’s free hand slipped into William’s as he leaned into the table like everyone else had.

“Come home with me,” Damien whispered. “I missed you too.”

William didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Not when he flashed Damien that bright smile under the bushy moustache and lightly bumped his shoulder against Damien’s.

#dilliam #who killed markiplier #mayor damien #william j barnum #writersofmark #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #Red Soul (Celine) #Shattered Heart (Mark Doom)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Dilliam - New Year

Sometimes, it’s nice to ring in the New Year with the one you love… Assuming you don’t miss it.

(click here for last year’s New Year fic!)

Word Count: 573

--

It was the end of a period of ‘what day is this?’ that lasted from Christmas to New Year’s Eve; where the chaos of the start is followed by exhaustion and vegetation and ends with the days blurring together. William had gone between his family, his ‘other family’ with Mark and Celine, and finished with Damien. On the other hand, the Mayor had been so busy with work, the last thing he wanted was to attend a social function for New Year’s Eve. Naturally, that meant William cleaned his little home from top to bottom, prepared the fanciest meal he could - a casserole followed by cheesecake - and made sure it was difficult for anyone to contact the pair so they could spend the time alone. The dinner came and went, and Damien was already in better spirits. The fire was lit, and the pair sat on the couch together.

And that was the last thing William remembered.

When he woke, it was almost pitch-dark in the room. The fire had burned to mere embers. He would have stood up to tend to it, but something pinned him to the couch. It took a little longer than he was willing to admit to realise that it was Damien being his delightfully cuddly self. William had quickly discovered how affectionate Damien was when they had both settled into their relationship. Hand holding, gentle touches to the Colonel’s face, light kisses, brief nudges when walking side by side. At first, William had thought it was Damien reassuring himself that this was real, but he later realised that it was accompanied by a knowing smile. It was Damien quietly saying to William, “Here I am, I love you. Don’t forget that”.

But right now, Damien was a dead weight, gone to the world as he slumbered. His head rested against William’s chest, one arm draped over his stomach. A slight adjustment as William woke had Damien nestle in closer with no intention of losing his giant pillow. As William leaned down to kiss his beloved’s hair, he paused as he remembered why they were on the couch in the first place. The Colonel carefully pulled out his watch to check the time.

2.10am.

It seemed like the New Year arrived while they slept. It was probably a good idea to wake Damien.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.” William lightly shook Damien’s shoulder. “We missed the countdown. Happy New Year.” Damien’s initial response was a quiet groan as he snuggled in closer.

“Hapeh New’ear…” The dignified, sophisticated mayor mumbled into William’s chest. William frowned, leaning his head to the side to try and see what was wrong, only to realise Damien had managed to doze off again. He chuckled to himself as he blindly reached behind him for the throw to cover Damien with. How lucky was he to see a side to the city’s beloved mayor like this! Few could boast seeing Damien relaxed and at ease with friends, but only William knew what he was like when his guard was completely dropped and he didn’t have to worry about any onlookers, keeping his elegant reputation, or worry about anyone seeing him act so sappy.

Oh… How he loved Damien.

William finally planted that kiss on the top of Damien’s head before relaxing properly into the couch. Sleep would return quickly to him, and they could belatedly ring in the new year when they were both more awake.

#writersofmark #dilliam #mayor damien #william j barnum #(happy new year!!) #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Mermay - Dilliam - Operation Renovation!

While working on Mark and Celine’s house, William has the bright idea to bring Damien inside to help give him a second opinion. It’s another chance for both to learn more about each other, and for William to realise he caught feelings for the cute merman.

Word Count: 2,046

-

William and Mark mutually agreed to stay away from the Rockpool that night, bar Mark briefly hurrying down with dinner. Whatever happened between the siblings would stay between them. William had a hunch that Damien felt isolated from his family - and even his sister he adored - because it seemed difficult to find middle ground, but William kept that to himself. 

As he went to bed that night, William was drawn to the window to look out over the sea. A glimmer of light could be seen at the Rockpool, seeming to only emphasise the distance between the house and the coast, as well as between the twins. If there was a way to help them re-establish a connection, he would.

Opportunity arrived two days later. William had spent the entire of the first day painting the living room to freshen it up, and was unexpectedly left alone to handle the redecoration part on the second. Celine, who was supposed to be there, was called into work urgently. William always preferred having a second opinion on matters like this and was nearly about to abandon his plans for the morning when the breeze hit the chimes just outside the kitchen window. He turned to see the garden and… Of course!

-

"Damien!" William scrambled down the rocky steps, screeching to a halt just beside the water. "Damien, you here?" He could see small bubbles popping on the surface just beside the large rocks. Then, after a few moments, Damien's head slowly rose over the water. His eyes were half-lidded as he peered up at the source of the loud voice.

"Oh, uh, sorry. I didn't think you would be asleep. I can come back-"

"No, it's alright… What's wrong?" Damien pulled himself out of the water to sit on the path. He began stretching to undo the effects of being curled up all night. William couldn't help but stare at how toned the merman was. Damien's body had more bulk to it to help keep warm in colder climates, but it was well defined between the lack of patterns on his body and his current stretches. William had to quickly snap himself out of it before he was caught staring in a daze of awe.

"I'm trying to rearrange the living room space and have been trying to decide where I should… what are you doing?" With his back still to William, Damien interrupted the other's train of thought by lifting his hand and turning the palm up.

"Pass me your phone."

"What?"

"Show me the photos and I'll tell you what I think."

"I never said anything about photos."

"Then I can't be of help."

"Poppycock. You're coming back up with me." William's suggestion had Damien finally turn to face the human. Even with what William could only describe as 'merman bed hair', Damien's accusatory look was sharp.

"I cannot walk, remember? I'm not of the species that can magically shapeshift -" Now it was Damien's turn to trail off as William let out a snort of laughter.

"You know, for someone who is so smart, you're awfully fond of jumping to conclusions and thinking you know what I'm going to say, huh?" William put his hands on his hips as he grinned. "No, no, dry your tail! I'm carrying you up! And no - I know that look from Celine - don't try and argue, I've made up my mind. Unlike Mark, I've spent years in the army. I'm a strong man. Have you even had a chance to see the house yet with your own eyes?"

William’s observation stunned Damien into silence. William was right - why did he keep assuming the worst of William? Was the simmering anger from yesterday influencing this, or was Damien really expecting the worst of humans?

"Only in photos…" He finally answered after a short pause. Damien was bewildered that William was even considering this after how Damien had behaved yesterday. "But you must know my tail is -"

"You won't know until you try. Come on, chop chop!"

Damien sat on the picnic bench, shaking the tip of his tail of extra moisture while William properly examined the merman's body to decide how best to carry it. At a glance, his tail was longer than his torso, and the eye-catching tip was large and potentially awkward if handled wrong. But William’s thoughts briefly strayed as he admired the colours. Damien was rather handsome. Not only that, he had such a wonderful personality (when he wasn’t jumping to conclusions) that William genuinely enjoyed the other’s company. But right now, he needed to focus. The last thing he wanted was to make the merman uncomfortable. Hoisting Damien over his shoulder was rather undignified, so it would need to be bridal style at a higher angle. 

He grunted at his decision. It caught Damien’s attention and he lifted his head in time to see a smirk peeking out under William’s moustache.

"I'm starting to think that is the 'I have an idea' look Mark had warned me about," Damien muttered as the soldier approached. Establishing how best to pick up Damien was a little awkward - "We'll get the hang of it!" William insisted - but they managed it. Damien wrapped both arms around William's neck and held on for dear life with such strength he was sure he’d leave marks on the skin. One of William's hands was at the base of the torso, while the other arm had the tail draped over it. To Damien's amazement, there was no sign of struggle from William once they settled.

"I can carry twice my own body weight," said William with a wink, like he read the merman's mind. With that, they made their way up the steps. William's eyes were on the ground to watch his footing, while Damien needed time to recover from that damned wink.

-

The initial reason for William bringing Damien into the house was ignored as Damien was taken aback by a moment of awe upon seeing the house for the first time. William decided that Damien absolutely needed the 'grand tour'. It was the right choice, as Damien was curious to learn more about the house beyond the photos he had been shown. William was able to point out the various jobs he was required to do while here until, finally, it brought them to the chaos that was the living room. Damien could see why William wanted a second opinion. All the furniture was grouped together in the middle of the room. It was quite a sorry mess of eccentric items that needed to somehow find new homes within the room.

Damien was sprawled across the couch - the end of his tail casually dangling across the far arm of it - as William set to work moving items to and fro as Damien instructed. Neither homeowner being there was a blessing, as William discovered that Damien had a very good eye for object placement and how to make a room look nice. Damien laughed and admitted that it was probably due to the natural merfolk love of beautiful things combined with a human awareness of furniture and ornaments.

The pair chatted throughout the morning as William completed the heavy work (not that Damien minded that he had to watch the human flex his muscles and show off that strength). This was how William learned that merfolk are not as materialistic as humans. A normal human home would be too 'cluttered' for them. There was little need for 'the latest and trendiest goods' in a merfolk's life in the same way as humans needed them, but those that had trinkets or ornaments knew they would never be stolen since they only have sentimental value.

"Is it true that merfolk like jewellery, since those are pretty valuable?" William asked as he showed Damien a mermaid figure before he could put it on the shelf.

"It is. It's purely aesthetic. The value of the materials mean nothing. I once met a young mermaid who had one of those bright, plastic bracelets a human child would wear. She valued it so much that when it went missing, the entire community banded together to search for it. I realised that an item imbued with sentimentality should be the most important value in my life, not how much money is used on it. Though there is a natural draw to gold because it isn't as unpredictable as silver in the water."

"At least the movies get something right. So what about the nesting-whatchamacallit - they aren't 'homes', right?"

"Right. Merfolk communities normally have a shared 'living space' that we call 'nesting grounds'. These are areas that are sheltered, mostly shallow, and open. It's a communal area, so it's ideal to have enough room for everyone to socialise without the danger of being swept away by storms. There are small nooks and crannies that are used for nests, which are a merfolk's personal spot for sleeping. Everyone knows to leave another's nest alone. Messing with the nest or the items near it without permission can land you in a lot of trouble." Damien paused, eyes drifting to one of the seascape photos on the wall. "The nesting ground I've been welcomed into has our distant relatives in it. Their home is situated amongst the coral reef. There's always colour there, along with whatever 'souvenirs' are brought to either share in the communal space or for a personal nest."

"Huh....Sounds like the dorms in the barracks I'd stay in. We'd have individual beds and lockers, but that's it in terms of 'personal space'. Everywhere else is communal." The comparison, though not perfect, was close enough to help William gain a better understanding of Damien's world, and of the setting for Celine and Mark's home. "So… Would that make the land part of the Rockpool the nesting grounds, and the small section under the water by the rocks your nest?"

"Yes, I consider it as such. I like it as it is. I don't see why it needs to be changed."

Realisation dawned on William. That explained Damien's offense at the mere thought of the space being changed. If everything was fitting for a merman, why humanise it? There was a solution to this, he was sure of it!

The pair took a break in the afternoon to bring Damien into the bathroom to get some moisture back into his body - the handheld shower head made this a lot easier - and have some lunch. Then, as William was asking Damien his opinions on which colour would better suit one of the empty rooms, Celine returned. She thought William was merely talking out loud as usual and was pleasantly surprised to see her brother lounging across three kitchen chairs, waving innocently at her.

-

And that was how the pair spent the next week. Each morning, William would set up and go on a long walk to strengthen his leg and explore the area, then fetch Damien so they could spend time together while William worked. Mark had gotten his hands on a wheelchair, which William then spent half the night refurbishing it to support a long, heavy tail instead of two feet. It gave Damien a little more independence when in the house… As well as the ability to ram into William with it when he was fetching items. The three humans agreed that it gave Damien a new lease of life once he was able to be involved in a way that was suitable for him. Some days he would ask William to bring him back to the Rockpool so he could spend the afternoon alone instead, and that was a request that was always respected.

However, as the week went on, William found he would spend his evenings at the Rockpool, regardless of whether or not the others joined him. He found Damien to be such good company… and feelings had taken root. But with how adamant Damien had been in not wanting to be humanised, he decided it would be best to keep it to himself. 

It didn't help that Mark gave him a knowing nudge one night when they were heading back into the house and seemed to be blissfully oblivious to William’s threat to keep it to himself.

#mermay #dilliam #mayor damien #wkm the colonel #who killed markiplier #(I apologise because I did not realise how much I've spammed some of these tags lately) #(I'm aiming to spread anything else out for the rest of the month) #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #(read-more is for tidiness! :D ) #(it's mostly them talking btw. It's a lot of world-building)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Mermay - Dilliam - Calming the Merman

After the human sister and merfolk brother had an argument, Mark and William decide they need to step in to try and find a solution. Mark goes to talk to his fiancée, while William makes the trip outside to find Damien. Hopefully it goes well…

Word Count: 1,664

Part One, Part Two.

-

William carefully made his way down the steps to the rock pool. It was easier to navigate without the clunky boot toppling him off-balance, but it inspired him to consider making a safety railing to make it less treacherous. When he reached the bottom, he noticed that Damien was nowhere to be seen, confirming his hunch that something happened between the siblings. But rather than making it look too obvious that he was checking in on Damien, he pulled out his small notebook and pencil and began making notes. He didn't try being quiet either, as he counted the steps he took to the picnic bench, hummed and muttered to himself about various modifications, argued with himself about the pros and cons of a little wall at the bottom of the walkway, and even opened and closed the chest hidden in the rocks to test the condition of the hinges.

William's knocking of the picnic bench was the last straw as Damien slowly raised his head out of the water. William - who was mid-knock - froze at the sight of the glare he'd get from Celine in a more intimidating mer variant. 

"Pray tell there is a reason that you're making such a racket." William gulped, slowly lowering his hand back to the table.

"I didn't think anyone was here, so I thought I'd come down and start planning ahead -"

"Oh, yes. To go with whatever is needed to turn this into my 'home'. You don't need to work on anything. I don't need an enclosure."

-

"Enclosure?" William repeated with a confused blink. "I'm trying to see how I can weather-and-ocean-proof this place. Did you see this bench? It's not even painted, let alone varnished. It'll be ripped apart in a few years." Damien glared at William for several, long seconds before he sighed.

"Fine. Whatever. Just stop being so noisy." He began to move to go back under the water, only that William called his name.

"Wait wait! I need a second opinion. What colour should the bench be?"

"Why should I care? Any wood colour will be fine."

"But it can be painted any colour. The varnish to protect it would go on afterward and that dries clear. We could paint this like the rainbow if you wanted. Well, have a think about it." He was going to leave it at that, but should Damien be allowed to sulk underwater? "Actually, before you go, can you check something for me?" Damien rolled his eyes, but was too polite to simply refuse.

"... What?"

"The rocks. What are the bases like? Will they need any sort of support to keep them in place?" Damien nodded at the request and ducked under the surface.

"The rocks are well grounded. Storms shouldn't knock them," he responded once he emerged, "But you shouldn't put anything in between the rocks either. See how they're shaped? The water has gradually eroded them over the years. It means the water will flow through without causing disruption. Putting anything in the gaps would only create a blockade that would harm the creatures that make their home on the rocks underwater."

"Huh… I never considered that. So is it safe there?" Damien's nod had William quickly taking notes in his book. 

"Since the base of the rocks are closer together, it's the perfect spot to sleep without being disturbed. I don't need any sort of shelter."

"I wasn't going to build a shelter," William quickly reminded him.

"Sure. Celine probably told you she wanted somewhere for me to live and feel part of the family, right?" No answer. "Thought so. I'm only giving you the benefit of doubt since all this is new to you, but merfolk aren't the same as humans." William, genuinely interested in what he was being told, moved around the picnic table so he could sit on the ground closest to Damien. "Merfolk don’t live in ‘homes’. Instead, they have nests in a community setting. It's in our instinct to travel throughout the year. The distance and duration depends on the species, from what I've seen. Some migrate to warmer waters, others travel if they desire to breed -"

"Is that why you travel so much?" Damien's glare and raised fins had William whip his hands up in self-defence again. "I'm curious! I'm a man who travels a lot as well!" 

"I suppose you might understand better than others, mayhaps." His collarbone fins settled down to their normal position again as he swam forward to lean against one of the rocks protecting the path beside William. "It started from trying to find our distant relatives when I was old enough to make the voyage across the Pacific. Over time, it became fuelled by my need to understand mer culture. Being raised like a human child has its advantages, but I missed a lot of vital skills and cues that would help me as an adult. I had certain habits as a child that my family thought were merely quirks, but they were instincts I was trying to develop, and had to relearn in later years. I couldn't hold it against them - no one in my family knew what to do - but they have a habit of trying to… humanise me, I suppose." Damien rested his chin on the cool rock with a sigh, the tip of his tail idly bobbing up and down.

"In them trying to do what's best for you, they think of it from a human point of view?" At least, that's how William was understanding it. The merman nodded solemnly as his eyes lowered to the rocks.

"It sounds like I'm so ungrateful for everything they've done, doesn't it?"

"I don't think so. You know what's best for you. And I've been tasked to do right by you. So… What would you like done here?" When Damien looked up at the question, William felt his heart tighten in sympathy for the poor merman. "What I mean is - can you think of anything that might make this place feel a little more homely by merfolk standard? I've done handiwork in houses before, but never nesting grounds. If we're doing this, it needs to be done right. But I’ll be working in the house first, so whatever needs to be done here will be a little lower down the list. And even then, I have small tasks to do here first - like, did no one think of buying a box with waterproofed hinges? They're already starting to rust. I could probably find paint to have it blend it better into the rocks and -"

"William?" Damien's voice cut the rambling clean in two. "Thank you. It's nice talking to someone who has no experience with any of this but who wants to learn. I feel like you honestly want to listen to me instead of deciding on my behalf. I’ll have a think about your offer." William looked down. The pair locked eyes and smiled simultaneously.

"You're welcome. But between you and me, I'd choose your opinion over Celine's when it comes to the rock pool."

"I'd certainly hope so. This isn't even a rock pool. It's a rocky shore. You see how the rocks slope gradually at the base of the cliff? It would normally be hidden by sand on the beaches you might be used to. A rock pool is a shallow pool of water that forms in rock that has been eroded by the tide over many years."

"Oh. I didn't know that. I thought it was called a rock pool since this section looks a little like a swimming pool surrounded by rocks? You know, the rocks stop the tide pulling you away in this little bit, but then you can go that way into the proper ocean?"

Damien paused, lifting his head to take in the surroundings with a different viewpoint. As he realised that William was right, he giggled. The soldier had to quickly rely on years of military practice to keep a straight face. That sound was unlike anything he had heard before, including previous times Damien laughed. It was music to his ears. He was enthralled.

"I wouldn't be opposed to calling this place 'The Rockpool' for that reason. Mayhaps we could ask Celine to make a sign…. Oh no." Memories of their last conversation came back to him in a flash. "I was so angry at her earlier. Could… Could you fetch her for me? I need to apologise. I should know better than to lose my temper. It isn't right." As much as he wanted to continue talking to William, he needed to set things right. William seemed to agree as he slowly climbed to his feet and stretched.

"Clearing the air is a good idea. I can tell you that she doesn't want to build you a house. All she wants is for you to feel comfortable, but perhaps she doesn't fully know what that is since she might actually be thinking from a human standpoint." William slowly shook life back into his legs as he added, "For what it's worth, I'll be doing the work. Whatever happens here will need your approval first. End of." It was a reassurance that worked wonders. He dismissed himself and made his way toward the steps to find Celine.

"Orange!"

"Pardon?" William was barely halfway up the stairs before he spun around to the water. Damien had swum across the pool toward the steps, his demeanour already brighter.

"I want the picnic table to be orange! Some of the corals I love in the nesting grounds are orange."

"Orange it is!" William gave a salute and picked up the pace to hurry back inside. Once out of sight, Damien dove back into the water to quickly do laps and shake off some of the energy that built up while talking to William. What was it about William that made Damien feel like everything was going to be alright?

Was this love?

#dilliam #mermay #mayor damien #william j barnum #writersofmark #(read-more is for tidiness! :D ) #(at the very least I'm amusing myself with this series. It's nice to have a little project to write.) #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Dilliam - A Battle of Rank

Today I learned about the Purple Heart! It’s absolutely perfect for Damien given everything he’s gone through! According to research I did on the USO, the Purple Heart was originally called the Badge of Military Merit. It wasn’t actually in use in the era I set WKM, but hey, Mark’s manor had a high-tech security camera among other things, so let’s blame broken time!

Unfortunately, not-writing has taken over my brain. BUT! I've had this saved so I can gradually work on something absolutely kinda-angsty-but-adorable that you inspired. Hopefully it’ll work for you!!

For context, in the War/Role Reversal AU, Damien lost most of his left leg while in the war. This goes a little into detail of his struggle with a prosthetic leg, but I’m not entirely sure what the tag would be for a trigger warning. If anyone knows it (or anything else I might have missed), please let me know! I’ve used a read-more just in case.

(also, I need to give this AU a proper tag for easier searching. Whoops)

Word count: 1,293

-

There was no denying the closeness between a Colonel and one of the soldiers that had been under his command during the war. When he discovered Damien was alive, but badly injured, William decided to dedicate as much time as he could to help Damien adjust to his new life. Whether it be emotional support to help him through the grief of losing a leg, or physical support (being a physical crutch or carrying him), William tried his hardest to be there. That didn't change when Damien finally could get a prosthetic a year later and relearned how to walk with it. William stayed loyal no matter what.

The general in the barracks noted this behaviour. William was always an eccentric, but helping another soldier seemed to give him grounding and a focus. Who knows how he might have handled the impact of civilian life if left drifting alone. Though it was not a normal situation… Colonel Barnum was never one to do things the "normal" way. Perhaps General McRoy noticed the loyalty of old friends twinned with the guilt of not being able to do enough to help. Perhaps he noticed the love that William was struggling to keep a secret. Either way, he said nothing and allowed his subordinate more flexibility with his duties.

Which was how Damien was being escorted back to City Hall by William after an official visit to a local school to talk about the purple medal he had received during the war. The pair took advantage of the pleasant weather and opted to walk the short distance back instead of taking the official vehicle as they had earlier. It allowed the two friends to chat about small nothings and their friends.

"- so then Mark kicked up quite the fuss after the ball splashed in the swimming pool. I don't think I've seen him have such a temper tantrum over golf since - Damien?" William cut himself off mid-sentence as he turned his head to notice Damien wasn't there.

"I'm alright, keep going." Damien tried to insist with a wave of his free hand. William could see how Damien struggled to walk, how he was leaning heavily on the ornate cane, how exhausted he looked. The Mayor gave a heavy sigh as William marched over. "Colonel, please. You don't need to-"

"You can't keep pushing yourself if you're tired, Damien. I'm going to help you back to the office, and then you're going to rest. Colonel’s orders." He looped Damien's right arm over his shoulder to provide further support as they hobbled toward City Hall.

"Fine, you can help, but I hope you realise how humiliating this is," scowled Damien. The sour tone was noticed, but ignored by William.

"We're nearly there," William instead replied, nodding toward the building as he tried to lift the mood for the final stretch.

--

William stepped out of the office to fetch Damien a cup of water. When he returned, he was greeted with the sight of Damien back at his desk, busy at work. The glass was slammed down on the desk with such intensity that it made Damien jump.

"Is this what you call 'resting'?"

"I'm sitting, just like you said. What more do you want?" Damien reached to the left to grab a page that had fluttered off when he jumped, to no avail. William had snatched it up, forcing him to stay in the conversation.

"I left you on that couch for a reason, Damien. You were supposed to be putting your leg up to let it rest. I trusted you to be able to follow that simple order!" William pointed to the couch in question. His snapping didn't deter Damien.

"Did you forget I can't lounge around during work hours? If my legs hurt, they hurt. I'm an elected official. I'm supposed to be working to help the people. That's why I ran for election-"

"- and that's why you went to war!" William cut him off. "Always thinking about others and never considering the consequences to yourself! Tossing away pieces of yourself until there's nothing left, is that what you call serving others? Are you content with destroying yourself for the sake of others, Private?!"

“For God’s sake, William, we aren’t in war anymore! You aren’t my superior that I have to obey every little order from. We’re both civilians, and I’m now higher ranked than you!”

"Don't you talk to your commanding officer like that!"

"Don't you talk to your Mayor like that!!"

Damien slamming his hands on the desk cut the argument short. Both men were on their feet, glaring at one another. Damien's hands were flat on the desk to keep himself balanced, but it did little to stop his vision doubling and his head briefly drooping. It was only for an instant, but it was enough for him to feel firm hands on his shoulders, gently easing him back into his seat. The chair was turned so William could kneel down and look him in the eye.

"I've told you a dozen times not to stand up so fast. You get dizzy far too easily," tutted William, placing a hand on Damien's forehead to make sure nothing else was awry. 

"I'm sorry," Damien mumbled, "I know you mean well. It's so frustrating knowing I'm so… Helpless. Everything tires me out faster, simple things are such a struggle. It's been - what, four years? - since I lost my leg and it's still like I'm back in 1919 in that blasted rehabilitation centre trying to balance all over again." As he blurted out his frustrations, William rubbed circles into the back of Damien's hand with his thumb. "What happened - what we helped do - I wouldn't change my outcome for the world but… God, I just wish I didn't keep falling back when I think I've made progress." William sighed softly in sympathy. He had received a rather nasty gunshot wound in his shoulder that sometimes acted up, but it rarely hindered him. Damien couldn't go a day without being reminded of his leg.

"Don't start that nonsense, Private. You've come on in leaps and bounds. Your stamina is much better, your gait is steady and even. What happened today is one tiny stumble on the long road of recovery. Just stop, look back, and see how far you’ve come.” William seemed so sure of his words, until he noticed the way Damien’s face scrunched up. “... What?”

“Everything you just said used walking metaphors. That’s the opposite of reassuring.”

“Oh, uh, shit, I… Fuck, sorry.” A nervous chuckle escaped the Colonel. “You’re doing great, Damien. You know you’re the smarter one out of the two of us. Using smart words in a smart way is your job, not mine. I barely survived high school, remember?”

“But you’re a Colonel. That means you’re a very smart man too,” Damien, at last, had a smile on his face. “May I take your hand?” When William nodded, the Mayor was quick to do so and kiss the back of it. “Thank you for being here for me, even if I’m still the worst patient.”

“You’re a woeful patient. But you’re handsome, so I’ll forgive you.” The smile was matched as an idea popped into William’s head. “May I kiss you? As an apology, I mean.”

“Yes, sir.” It was a quiet reply, but enough for William to hear and quickly follow on that request. When he pulled back, he reached out to adjust the medal still pinned on Damien’s jacket.

“There. Now, finish what you’re doing so I can take you back to your house so you can lie down without interruption,” Damien gave William a tired look, but the Colonel quickly continued, “s-speaking as a concerned boyfriend, of course.”

#writersofmark #dilliam #mayor damien #william j barnum #who killed markiplier #tw war #(just in case) #tw lost limb #(also; anon? I'm now tempted to take the drabble I once wrote for switching the end of WKM so Damien survived #and edit it up to make it readable. I also want to change a plot idea I had in it so I can include the 'm.otherloving' alternative) #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

I can't decide between 6, 9 and 11, for Diliam from when Damien went to war.

(You will not believe my surprise when I realised you were asking the AU where Damien also goes to war. ;A; If you haven't read it, check it out here!)

TW war (literally in the trenches)

Word count: 593

6. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

11. “You don’t need to protect me.”

-

The troops under Colonel Barnum were in battle before the sun had risen fully. An earlier-than-expected "up and over" command to push the enemies back was given before most had even started their morning routine. They were outnumbered, but not outmatched. With various drills and tactics, they successfully drew the danger away from their trench and toward the neutral ground. In the midst of it all, one soldier tried to hold his ground. His bayonet was used in self-defence against a melee attack. The enemy staggered from the impact, and the brave soldier slammed the butt of his rifle in the other's stomach to wind them.

The soldier then felt a firm hand on his shoulder that pulled him back. He only caught a glimpse of a bushy moustache.

-

"What the hell was that?" The soldier hissed at his ally once they were safe in the trenches.

"That was me keeping you safe," the commanding officer snapped, turning to shoot a glare.

"Oh, is that what it is? In case you forgot, Colonel, we're in the middle of a war. You don't need to protect me!" 

"Damien, wait!" William called, but it was too late. Damien had stormed past him and back toward the others in the platoon.

-

It took over an hour, but William finally found Damien in a quiet inlet of the trench, away from the others. He slowly approached, and stopped. The Colonel? Feeling a hint of guilt?

"I'm sorry, Damien." At first, William thought he had spoken too quietly. Damien was focused on his task of refilling a sandbag. "Damien? I-"

"I heard you." Damien didn't lift his gaze. "You're forgiven. I have work to do."

"I hope you realise talking to your commanding officer in such a way is a punishable offense."

"I hope you realise pulling a soldier out of battle because you want to 'protect' him is incredibly demoralising."

Silence.

William sighed and brushed a hand through his messy hair. His friend did have a point.

"I didn't mean it that way. It wasn't supposed to happen like that. You are a good fighter -"

"Then why act like I'm not? This isn't the first time you've done something like this." The sandbag was tied and checked, and at last, William had Damien's attention. The lower ranked soldier slowly stood up as he continued, "Watch duty during known quiet times, weapon organising, checking the dog's training for sniffing out rats… it's always low-risk tasks." William's eyes widened as Damien spoke, finishing with him glancing aside. "I know what you promised before there was ever a war - but you can't treat me like the precious porcelain doll to keep high on the shelf. I'm here for a reason, just like you." 

"Damien…"

"It's alright. I know you're scared. But how can I make you proud of me if you feel you have to always protect me?"

"You know why -" William could barely manage a whisper as Damien was right in front of him. A hand rested on William's cheek. A thumb gently brushed the skin dried out by the winter air.

"I know why," Damien quietly agreed, "but they don't. You have to treat me the exact same as everyone else, no matter what." Before William could even try and muster an argument, Damien pressed their lips together for a brief kiss. "I'll do the best I can to prove my worth. After all, I'd bet I'm the only one here who grew up watching his very own knight in shining armour protect him when they were boys."

#writersofmark #dilliam #who killed markiplier #tw war #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Darkstache Week Day Seven: Ordinary People

Days: 1, 2 , 3, 4 , 5, 6, 7

At last, the final prompt of the wonderful event hosted by @projectdarkstache! Thank you so much for encouraging everyone to create such fantastic pieces and I hope all the works can be cherished by their creators! You’ve all done fantastic!

~

After years of causing chaos and trouble as the Actor, Mark uses his new freedom to bring the fictional world he ruled back to the modern real world. But what about Dark and Wilford?

Word Count: 2,437

(while not necessarily a warning, this does contain sympathetic!Actor becoming Youtuber!Mark in the timeline my stories are written in.)

-

If he was asked, Mark would admit he had no idea when he felt like ‘himself’ again. It had been decades since the troubled actor’s heart was shattered, the will to live had vanished, and the ability to die eluded him. His broken soul was utterly consumed by the terrors of the Manor’s arcanic past until he became a god-like figure in a world of his own creation. Former friends were moulded and reshaped into characters to suit his schemes. Poor, innocent souls over the decades were pulled into the cat-and-mouse plot to populate the worlds. Drama and chaos were on the regular schedule, and how the Actor thrived!

But now… Peace. And Mark was baffled by it.

He remembered standing at the edge of the city, watching the sun rise like he had never seen the day before. In all the years of darkness and being pulled like a puppet by unseen forces, maybe that was the truth. A new life, a new start. The ‘performances’ he had been part of were failed attempts to gain control over a world that had torn him to pieces and tossed him in the trash. All they achieved was pain and suffering. As he recognised this and wanted to do good, the world he had mastery over was fading and merging with the real world - the one he had left behind. With new independence, he was losing grip over whatever powers he had before. No more would he be able to cheat death or restart time. This was it, the final ‘act’. He didn’t feel sorry for himself. Mark was finally ready to break free from the puppet strings and start over… But there were two in particular he needed to apologise to. Trying to face Dark or Wilford now would result in mockery or gunfire (or both). However, from his spot on the hill, he could see a new opportunity. He could reverse the crimes that were cast. Let them and all their old friends live the lives they were meant to in this new, modern world.

Mark opened his arms wide as the light of the morning sun hit his weary body.  At last, the game was up. He could set everything right.

--

--

“Ah, there’s the man of the hour, Damien himself!” A familiar voice sang as he entered the office with his usual dramatic flair. 

“It’s ‘Mayor Brooks’ while you are here, Mark. But it is good to see you.” Damien countered, playfully rolling his eyes. Even if Mark was a big internet celebrity, he made it his mission to check in regularly on Damien. It was a nice relief, even if the pair were trying to regain grounds on their friendship. Mark had dated his twin sister in university, but the manner in which the pair broke up was so dramatic, it caused a rift between the two young men. At least a friendship from childhood was not one that could be broken forever. He saved the document he was typing and closed the laptop. “If you are here, can I assume there is some great problem going on in your world?”

“Oh, no no. All good on my end!” Mark slumped onto the sofa to the side of the office with a laugh. “I recorded one huge game over the weekend and scored myself some free time. What better way to spend it than with my favourite politician?”

“As much as I appreciate the compliment, I would gather that your other friends are busy and you don’t have anyone else to turn to.” However blunt the statement might be, there was a smile on Damien’s face as he fell back onto the free half of the couch. Mark responded with a loud gasp and a hand on his chest, which only prompted Damien to lightly push him.

“How dare you! I’ll have you know I came here to see if you wanted to grab a coffee with me. I found ten bucks in my pants pocket this morning and I wanna splash out. Come on, Dames! Doesn’t your favourite coffee place have the best pumpkin spiced latte on this side of the city?”

“Mark, it’s May. They aren’t going to make that for you.” Now it was Damien’s turn to be pushed as Mark waved the ten dollar bill in his face.

“I think you’ll find myself and mister Alexander Hamilton will disagree with tha- HEY!” Letting his guard down was a mistake, as Damien took the chance to snatch the money out of his hand and jump onto his feet. “You crooked politician! Stealing the money of an innocent, hard-working man like me!”

Damien fetched his coat with a chuckle. “For someone who wants coffee, you don’t seem very keen in moving for it.” It worked, and a childishly offended Mark pulled himself off the couch. The money was returned to Mark as the pair exited the office. Damien did need a break, he decided as he locked the door after him.

-

Mark was an interesting man. He could act loud and brash, but it was only a mask that hid a soul that seemed older than thirty. Damien used to joke that Mark might be an old man stuck in a young body. The walk to the coffee shop took the usual diversion through a nearby park so they could swap stories and chat without the rush of the world shoving them forward. Mark and his content creator friends were busy working on a variety of projects, and he himself admitted he was feeling happier in himself than he had been in recent years. Likewise, Damien had been working on completing some important jobs around the city and trying to get some new schemes underway.  It was busy, but rewarding. In times like this, neither had to play the part cast for them by society. They could be themselves, just like old times. It meant that Damien was more relaxed and jovial by the time they reached their destination.

The coffee shop had the familiar busy hum to it as the pair entered. Since Damien was a regular, there was never any fanfare of the mayor visiting their business. Mark’s ‘perfect’ disguise of a worn baseball cap and his glasses seemed to do the job of keeping a low profile. Surprisingly, the barista did indeed agree to make a pumpkin spiced latte for Mark, as well as Damien’s regular order. Both drinks and two large muffins were covered by the ten dollar bill, much to Mark’s delight. For now, they simply had to wait for their drinks.

“- And still no sign of a special someone?” It was a question Mark frequently asked. Damien seemed content to be ‘married’ to his work, but Mark would argue that the companionship would make the heavy workload more bearable. They both knew it was true, but Damien was a stubborn man. He was too proud to deal with blind dates, and seemed insistent on waiting for ‘the right person’. Instead, Damien countered with a question about Amy and how she and the two dogs were doing. A simple diversion, but a wholesome one, as Mark could share silly moments and photos on his phone, and Damien could enjoy the tales. How could he not be happy for his friend? It seemed like things were finally looking up for him.

At that, Mark’s drink and the muffins were ready, but there was no sign of Damien’s drink. He insisted Mark go fetch a table while Damien continued waiting. Several long minutes passed as people who ordered similar drinks received theirs, and Damien was tempted to ask one of the staff about his drink. Just as he was about to, the door slammed open as a man stumbled in.

“Geez, man! Could you not break that door, please?” The manager shouted at the stranger, who hurried over and apologised profusely while ordering his ‘usual’ summer iced drink and telling a story about a kid outside throwing ice-cream at him. Damien pulled out his phone to try and look busy, but his eyes strayed from the screen and darted to the man.

The stranger was a head taller than Damien and had a broad build that was emphasised by the fitted white t-shirt and jogging pants he was wearing. His black, curly hair looked somewhat erratic, while the large, bushy moustache reminded Damien of the chief of police from a TV show he loved. Facial hair of that style wasn’t in season anymore - not to mention this wasn’t as eloquently groomed as other moustaches would have been - so it was likely something important to the man. His face was framed by a sturdy jawline, which gave a somewhat intimidating air. But his eyes… Were looking in Damien’s direction. Oops.

The Mayor gulped and returned his attention to his phone.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Damien jumped at the sudden voice and presence beside him. The stranger had stepped closer without him realising it. “Is something wrong? Did that kid get ice-cream on my shirt?”

“No, your shirt is fine.” Damien responded quickly, intending to leave it at that. But the stranger stayed firm, bringing a sigh out of the politician. “I’m sorry. I know it’s rude to stare. I thought I recognised you, that’s all.” 

“And do you?” The stranger sounded genuinely curious. That was enough to prompt Damien to lock and pocket his phone.

“I’m not sure. I feel like I do, and I wouldn’t forget a moustache like that, but I can’t place anything… Even if it feels like it’s on the tip of my tongue.” Realising how odd that sounded, his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I’m sorry, this all sounds rather bizarre from a complete stranger -”

“No!” Both men were taken aback at the stranger’s interruption. “Er, no. Sorry. It doesn’t sound weird. I feel the same. I feel like I know you -”

“I’m the Mayor. That’s hardly a surprise.”

“- yeah, but like I know know you, you know?” The stranger shook his head, curls bouncing with a nervous chuckle. “I think this is a sign. Maybe we ought to get to know each other properly, just in case we met in a dream.” A large hand was offered to Damien. “The name’s William Barnum, but friends can call me -”

“The Colonel.” Damien finished. Confusion was mirrored on both faces.

“How did you -”

“I don’t know?” No matter how he tried to place a specific memory with the phrase, nothing came to mind. Instead, he pushed it aside. “My name is Damien Brooks. Despite the rather odd circumstances, it is a pleasure to meet you.” The large hand was taken, and they gave a firm shake.

Immediately, a memory crossed Damien’s mind. This man had pink in his hair. His own hands were gray. Mark had a shadowed, wicked grin on his face. But as soon as it came, it vanished, like trying to recall a fading dream. 

“Hey, Damien?” William’s dark eyes had drifted aside as he tried to encourage the words to come to him. “Do you want to go out for lunch this week?” A simple question made Damien’s heart skip a beat as an all-too familiar sensation of butterflies in his stomach manifested.

“Are - are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah… Is that too forward? I feel like it’s the right thing to do. You’re very handsome.” 

Strange. Why did Damien feel like William had complimented him like that a hundred times before? Stranger still, why did it make him feel so happy to hear the nervous rambling? He reluctantly pulled his hand away so he could snatch a napkin from the counter and the pen in his pocket. A phone number was hastily scribbled on it, before it was scratched out and written neater. Just in case, his name was noted underneath.

“Here. Text me later. If you’re free, we could always… Go for dinner?” It also felt like the right thing to do, like it was a regular event. William seemed to agree, as his face lit up. Upon receiving the napkin, it was treated like something sacred by William, who carefully folded and placed in his wallet.

“Yeah! That’d be - I’d really like that - Bully.” That exclamation of relief shouldn’t bring a familiar tugging of heartstrings to Damien, but it did. Only that he was with Mark (and that he has a job to return to), Damien would have gladly gone wherever William was going. 

Both names were called as the drinks were finally ready. Each one was lifted, and the pair gave their parting words and a promise to arrange something as soon as William returned home. But just as Damien was about to turn and walk to the table, William leaned down enough to kiss him on the cheek, hurrying off before anything else could happen. All Damien could do was watch the larger man disappear with a wistful smile before turning to find Mark at the table.

“You’re putting the local tomatoes to shame. You okay?” Mark asked, innocently sipping his latte. It was still mostly full. The drink itself looked hot. How long had that moment actually lasted?

“I’ve got a date tonight.” Damien was so embarrassed after blurting his answer, he didn’t notice how Mark’s surprise was an act. “I started talking to a guy up at the counter and - well, we’re meeting for dinner.”

“I’m so happy for you, man. Look at you, getting out there and being ambitious! I’m sure he’ll be a great guy!” Mark grinned, letting the topic drop so the Mayor could get his head around the ‘unexpected’ event. 

While they were talking after the drinks were finished, a text arrived on Damien’s phone. Mark noticed there was a number rather than a name, but it brought a smile to Damien’s face. The Youtuber waved his hand and insisted Damien needed to ‘urgently’ answer it. As the Mayor did so, Mark noticed how the shadow that was always looming over Damien finally dissipated. At last, the malicious claws from a lifetime ago were gone, and with that, Mark’s own powers.

But what did the loss of powers matter when he was able to use them to help Dark and Wilford start a new relationship together? They could live as normal, ordinary people, just like Dark had always vowed when confronting the Actor. Today: the Actor was dead, Mark was alive, and the curse holding them all down had been broken for good.

Now, if only Celine would talk to him so they could become friends again...

#projectdarkstache2020 #darkstacheweek2020 #writersofmark #dilliam #darkstache #who killed markiplier #actor!mark #mayor damien #william j barnum #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #(I SWEAR I didn't mean for it to be this long but I SWEAR it's cute)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Dilliam - The Perfect Year

Just a little Dilliam piece for New Year’s!

Title from this song!

Word Count: 559

-

It was the first time Mark and Celine had celebrated the New Year as a married couple, and they had invited family and friends over. They had splashed out for the private party. There were colourful balloons and party hats available for all guests if they wanted them. A box with various noisemakers was set up and ready to use, and the best champagne was chilling for the big moment.

Damien found himself sitting with William and some of his family. It was a wonderful chance to catch up, see how everyone was, and talk about plans for the new year.  But that wasn’t why everyone had gathered in the manor. No, it was for the big countdown.

As the minute hand edged a little close to midnight, a servant handed Damien a champagne flute while Mark ushered him outside with the other guests. The actor had heard that someone in the city had gotten their hands on fireworks, and what better place to view them than from the garden of the manor along the hill, away from the hubbub and chaos of the city centre? While everyone mingled on the terrace, William grabbed Damien’s arm and dragged him toward the golf course.

“That coot will keep them nearby. There’s a better viewing spot over here,” William explained quietly as they hurried off. There was immense relief as neither were spotted disappearing. For however long was left in the year, the secret couple were alone. William’s hand slipped around Damien’s waist to pull him close as they reached the secret viewing spot.

“This view is beautiful…” Damien’s voice was barely a whisper as he took it in with awe. Even if it was a view he had seen a hundred times before since his sister and her husband moved there, there was something special about seeing it from a different angle.

“But not as much as the view I have.” The unusual response prompted Damien to turn his head.

William was looking at him. There was disinterest in the view. In fact, the soldier even took the chance to pull Damien a little closer with a smile. “There’s only one thing I want tonight.”

“THREE! TWO! ONE!”

The fireworks display started as there was a nearby cry of “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” from the terrace. Damien missed that, as he rang in the new year with William’s lips against his in a kiss that was polite but held traces of yearning. They slowly pulled apart to belatedly down their drinks, but William was quick to take both glasses and rest them in a nearby bush. Both hands rested on Damien’s cheeks.

“Happy New Year, my love.”

“Happy New Year, dear.”

William was quick to close the gap between them again, the yearning for the mayor amplified as he felt arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. The pair would likely depart early, feigning that Damien was feeling tipsy and needed to shake off any alcoholic influence before some meeting. But in reality, neither wanted to sleep for the first night of the new year. All William wanted was the feeling of Damien pressed against him, the taste of the Mayor lingering on his lips. And, if the eagerness Damien displayed was anything to go by, it was the perfect way to bring good fortune to the new year.

#dilliam #writersofmark #mayor damien #william j barnum #secret relationship #Eccentric Goof (Colonel) #Blue Soul (Damien) #(nothing like being able to be a proper couple when no one's watching you; eh?)