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otterlyinluv · 1 year

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A touch of darkness (pt.1)

Link to part 2

Summary: Dark convinced himself he must stay as far away from you as possible for your sake. That all changes when you start experiencing feelings you hadn't before.

Pairing: Darkiplier x DA!Reader

Tags: sfw, pining, proximity, general confusion caused by feelings

A/N: This is the first time I posted my writing somewhere. Hope you like it! (there will be more romance in the next part)

Word count: 1.2k

Damien, who always made sure you knew he was with you by touching you. Holding the small of your back when guiding you places. Putting a hand on your shoulder when you were getting mad at someone. Leaning into your touch when you held him.

But when you showed up at the new ego manor as a reincarnation from the mirror, Dark felt conflicted. You looked like the person he used to hold so frequently it became second nature. Even your soul was the same. But you weren't who you used to be. You didn't remember. At first, he kept a distance from you. Not an obscenely big one just enough to respect your private space.

And after a suspiciously short amount of time, he felt as if he was missing something. He felt an itch of sorts.

He found his eyes wandering to your hands. He wondered what it would be like to hold them. How they would feel compared to his. After thoughts such as these, he would shake his head in hopes that it would keep any similar ones at bay. After all, you were not his anymore.

You were extremely confused. Any time you stood next to Dark to point out something on his computer, he always moved away even if it was just by an inch. Every time you tapped his shoulder to get his attention, he would stare at your hand for a split second. Even if you accidentally bumped into him, he would visibly freeze. It was official. Dark most probably hated you. Okay, maybe hate was a strong word, but he didn't want to be close to you, that's for sure.

You didn't even know why you minded it. You got plenty of hugs from Wilford and the occasional hand around your shoulder from Illinois, so it's not like you lacked physical contact.

While you were sure he at least tolerated you, he obviously didn't want to spend more time with you than necessary. But, seeing as you two worked together rather often, you were in a rather bad situation. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable. So, you tried not to invade his personal space as much as you could.

A knock on your already open door disturbed you from your task of tracking down where Mark could possibly be. Not looking up from the screen, you uttered a quiet "Come in". The familiar sound of dress shoes made you tear your eyes away from the computer. Dark stopped just in front of your desk.

"Oh. Hi, Dark."

He didn't usually come into your little corner office. If you could call it an office. You were the one to look for him when you needed something or to share any new discoveries.

"I received complaints about the computers... I worked out the issues with the others already."

"Oh, okay..." You let him join you on the other side of the desk. But before you could leave him your chair, he reached for the computer mouse and put his left hand on the other side. Which meant you were trapped between his arms. Great.

To ease the increasingly awkward atmosphere, you said: "I thought Google fixed problems with computers."

He replied after a couple of seconds. "It's more of an organizational issue. His program doesn't extend to the placement of the files."

You nodded your head. You could feel his shoulder on the back of your head. Whether it was his shoulder or not was only a guess. You've never been this close before. Given his distaste for such closeness, he must have been suffering.

Instead of focusing on your proximity, you opted to look at the monitor. Search by name. Copy. Paste to another folder. Search through already existing folders. Copy. Paste.

You couldn't understand why he insisted on being the one to rearrange the misplaced files when you were perfectly capable of doing so yourself. Granted, he was much faster and more efficient than you would ever be. The room was filled with clicks and your rapid heartbeat. He still hasn't moved from his original position. In fact, it seemed as if he was even closer than in the beginning.

He let out a deep sigh, which you felt on the top of your head. You assumed it was because he couldn't find the file he was looking for. Or you would, have you not been so terribly plagued by thoughts racing in your head.

"There are only a few files left." There was a deep rumble in his voice that you wouldn't have heard if he wasn't so close to you. You weren't used to this. At all. He always made it seem like he wanted to be as physically far away from you as possible, but with the way he stood right now...

You didn't mind it as much as you should have. The lack of distance felt suspiciously comforting even though it was something you weren't used to. It was quite peculiar.

"That should be all of them."

His hand started withdrawing from the mouse, so you turned around to thank him when you froze. His face was mere inches apart from your own. You didn't expect him to be so close. Because of the proximity, you noticed his eyes weren't a deep shade of brown like many of the other inhabitants' of the mansion. They were black like a starless night sky. The color was rather pleasing. For a split second, you could've sworn you saw his eyes flick to your lips. But before you could confirm whether it was actually true, his gaze was back in your eyes. He drew in a sharp breath.

"I... I should go." He shook his head, but you caught him by the hand before he could move any further.

"Wait. This seems familiar." His body went rigid at your words.

"Familiar in what way?"

"I don't know just you, me... us?"

His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Are you doing this? Have you discovered a new power of influencing minds and are testing it out on me?" Your lips spread in a cheeky smile.

"That is ridiculous." He said sharply. "Even if I had that sort of ability, I would never use it on you."

His tone of voice was harsh, but his eyes... Slightly wide, eyebrows furrowed as if he was offended by your accusation, but his eyes held feelings. Fear. Though you were unsure what exactly he was afraid of.

He pulled his hand from yours with surprising gentleness.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but shook his head. "I believe my work here is done."

Fixing his suit jacket lapels, he started making his way to the door.

You stood up abruptly.

"Wait!"

He stopped and turned towards you slowly.

You yourself were confused about your sudden urgency for him to stay. You half expected him to simply shake his head, chastise you for wasting his time, and go wherever he needed to go. But he didn't. He stood there. Waiting.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

You swore something akin to disappointment appeared in his eyes before his look became neutral once again. He nodded his head and left the room.

You sank back in your chair. Why did you just do that? There was a foreign pang in your heart after you heard the door close. With each of his steps turning quieter and quieter, you felt like you were... missing something. You could not figure out what.

But maybe someone else could help.

#x reader #reader insert #darkiplier x reader #dark x reader #darkiplier #damien x da #wkm damien #damien the mayor #markiplier egos #iplier egos #writing #fanfic #imagines

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coff33notforme · 1 year

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I need him dead

A/n: Hitting you guys with another Damien drabble. I actually really like how this turned out, and I wrote it to be a cliffhanger for a series so you know. This was also kind of an Au idea I had where Celine ends up dead, but I'm not going to spoil to much because I plan to write more for this Au.

Synopsis: After the years of being trapped with Damien in the endless winter woods, he finally decides to finish what Mark started.

Pairing: Damien and Gn! Reader, could be read as Romantic or Platonic

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I knew you wouldn’t be happy with my decision. So I didn’t tell you, what more is there to say?”

His tone was dim, his dead eyes watching the snow falling outside, with a bitterness you couldn’t describe.

Your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes glossy with betrayal, illuminated by the flickering light of the dying flame that sat in the cold, dirtied fireplace. Small specks of ashes and dust clung to the wall as small embers popped from the swaying fire.

The light casted your figure against the dark wall behind you. Your heart was beating so fast that you could feel it hammering against your chest. His heavy eyes told you everything, yet you still felt inclined to rebuttal his unspoken argument.

“Why? Why do you want to do this? We don’t kill for personal gain, that's not who we are.”

your tone weary, your eyes just as heavy, purple bags hanging from beneath. You looked as exhausted as you felt, every breath seemed to put a strain on your whole body, a burning, aching strain.

You knew exactly how this would end, and to be honest, you didn’t really care anymore, but one of you had to be good, right? This was just the part you had to play.

“That’s not who we used to be at least, rules change when the game changes, dear. I thought you’d at least understand that.” his voice merely a hushed whisper. A crowded silence filled the room. Before he sighed, speaking again.

“I was a good man, but I can’t be that man anymore, not here. It doesn’t matter what we do here there is no judge, because we're already in hell my love.”

His voice remained shallow, that nickname he used to sing to you so sweetly, that once made your heart flutter, now only filled you with dread.

His dark gaze drifted solemnly to the creaky wood of the old cabin, and it seemed almost like the wood creaked and swayed under his prying eyes. Damien let out a breathy chuckle.

“Do you remember when we built this cabin?” your breath hitched, his tone was filled with longing, a melancholy look swirling in his chocolate eyes.

“Yes, I remember.” you replied meekly

Damien's head slowly rose up, his hollow gaze seeping into you, tearing you open.

“Then you know, we have to kill Mark.”

Reblog this >>>> liking this

#markiplier egos x reader #markiplier egos #mayor damien x reader #mayor damien #damien the mayor #iplier egos x reader #iplier egos #damien x da #damien x mc #damien x reader

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fgfluidity · 2 years

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begin again

Summary: This one has to be it.

Pairing: Damien/DA

Warnings: none really

@peachiiposting @volbeast @opprose @mirrorslament @otterlyinluv @flerpdederp

a commissioned work (check out my ko-fi!)

This one has to be it.

You've said it over and over, countless times over countless timelines, countless attempts. This one will be the one to take you to Mark, this one will be the one to take you to the warp core, this one will be the one to finally end this hell.

You aren't one to give up easily. That's why you're a good--

Partner. Thief. Pirate. Cowboy. Jailbird. Camper. Gamer. Editor. Attorney.

You grit your teeth and shake it off, jabbing at the crystal imbedded in your glove. Too many universes mean too many titles, too many almost-memories. Ghosts of shadows of things, the barest hints of a life lived outside of you and your interference.

You ignore the voice in your head-- dark, smooth, rich, familiar-- telling you that one in particular is more solid, more real than the others. The real thing is the pickle you're in right now, and it has nothing to do with haunted mansions and long days in courtrooms.

It's just a version of you, not... not you.

Right?

That man in white-- he knows you. And you know him, somewhere in the multiverse. It itches at your mind every time you meet, his eyes and voice and presence so very familiar.

The crystal sparks, hot even through the thick material of your glove, and the burning pull of the wormhole begins, spiraling you down, down, down, further into the eye, until--

Another universe, another failure. You sigh as you spot the towering warp core, glowing in the void, and head for it.

You blink.

You aren't burning in the core of a star. You aren't on the bridge. You aren't...

You aren't a captain of some spacecraft. Not a you born far into the future, a shard of a consciousness, all life depending on you and your choice.

You're...

You take a breath of warm twilight air, a bit dry, and look up to the building before you.

The great polished doors, towering stone walls, gleaming golden windows-- you stumble slightly, falling into a stone pillar behind you, propping open a wrought iron gate.

This is just another universe. It didn't work-- but when you look at your hand, there's no glove. No crystal.

You know. You know that man. You know where you are, and it's only confirmed by the letter in your pocket, only slightly crumpled when you pull it out to read.

District Attorney, it says, and you know.

You've come back. Back to the very beginning.

Wilford— no, William, greets you at the door, as if he has no idea of the man he will become, your interactions over space and time. “Colonel,” he says, firm and warm just like his handshake. “My friends call me Colonel, not Wil. I can hardly stand the name.”

Benjamin takes your invitation, cordial and proper as ever. Not a man in trouble in a spaceship, but a working professional.

Beyond him—

Beyond him…

You can’t help yourself. You know that face as it turns to you, at once your dearest friend and a man you forgot entirely.

How could you have?

You don’t care what he did to you. You don’t care what’s happened since. You haven’t seen your Damien in forever and you need him.

“Ah, there they are. Speak of the devil, and— well.” He smiles to his conversation partner— the detective, Abe. “Please, if you’ll give us a moment? We’ll catch up.”

You don’t care what Abe has to say. You simply make your way to Damien, longing to just reach out but hesitant all the same. What if he’s just an illusion? What if this isn’t right?

But it must be, because you remember the ending of the phrase. “And an angel appears,” you recite, softly, throat tight with emotion.

Immediately, his warm smile turns to concern, and he comes a bit closer. “Are you alright? My friend, you’re—“ Damien’s hand comes up, almost brushing your cheek, before he reaches for his jacket pocket.

Your eyes sting— you must be crying, because his face swims in front of you. “I— I missed you,” you blurt. “God, it’s been—“

“A day.” Still, Damien doesn’t chide or tease you. Rather, with the most tender of touches, he guides both of you to one of the couches. “Here, please, sit. What happened? If there’s anyone I need to speak to—“

You hiccup what might be a laugh or a sob, your heart so full as to burst, and you can no longer resist; rather than take the offered handkerchief, your burrow right into his arms, holding him tight.

It’s been so very long since your last hug. Since you took in his snow, pine, coffee scent. He’s warm and solid and doesn’t push you away, just holds you safe.

Finally, you take a shaky breath and lean back a bit, though you stay within his grasp. “I’m— I’m sorry, I only…”

You look into his eyes, warm and patient and kind. Not the man in white. He doesn’t know. Nothing has happened yet.

If nothing this night has happened yet…

“Damien…” You swallow hard. “You… you mean the world to me. Maybe I haven’t told you enough, but it’s true. It’s always been true.”

Somehow, he grows even softer, a smile pulling at his lips as he grasps your hand. “I know. You’re my dearest.”

He doesn’t say friend. It doesn’t matter. What matters is what you can do right this moment.

There are universes and timelines and alternate realities. There are options and choices. There are demons, like the ones waiting in these walls to ruin both your lives before they could really start.

There are also angels. Second chances and blessings.

You pull him close, until the warm skin of his face, his forehead, touches yours. “Come home with me,” you whisper, looking into his eyes. “We don’t have to stay. We don’t have to listen to gossip. We can just be.”

It’s his choice. You can’t force him out, however badly you want to fix this, to go down a different path.

You could never take away his choice.

He breathes for a moment, holding your hands, still pressed against you. Something’s going on inside his head, but as well as you know him, you can’t tell this time.

He sighs, opens his mouth, and you pray as hard has you’ve ever prayed to anything that things could change. That everything can be different.

That this one is it.

#fg writes #wkm #iswm #wkm damien #y/n district attorney #captain y/n #mayor attorney #damien x da #damien x reader

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ribcage-bitch-ass · 1 year

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Dark and the DA. There's not much of a story here, I just liked the idea of Dark being forced to face the DA.

Drawn by me not an AI LMAO

#this took so long #maybe 3 hours #not that long actually #anyway #darkiplier #markiplier #fanart #damien #damien the mayor #wkm #who killed markiplier #wkm fanart #in space with markiplier #iswm #digital art #blood #damien x da #darkiplier x da #my art

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oswinunknown · 2 years

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this-side-of-paradise.mp4

//explanation for the last shot under the cut here and everything else on this post

the last shot is that of the modern Oz, who i refer to as just "Oswin".

he is seen hugging darkiplier, however no expression is shown.

however, with dark finally meeting the modern oz and seeing the effect of his actions. he takes oswin in a hug and apologizes after years of neglect.

while Oz had been able to escape the mirror with the help of the soul of damien, theres still a long process to go before dark themselves is forgiven.

but as he settles into the hug and returns it. the former attorney feels something inside him resolve. with time, effort, and bravery even for one moment, he knew that he could see dark as a friend much like oz felt for damien (and hopefully even more).

he always believed in second chances to those who wanted it after all.

as warfstache put it:

"nothing heals like a good apology"

#artswin #osmien #animswin #wkm #mayor attorney #dark attorney #wkm district attorney #district attorney oswin unknown #mayor damien #damien the mayor #wkm damien #who killed markiplier #animation meme #animation #damien x da #da sona

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i-am-03 · 1 year

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Currently making some powerpoint for my business plan and

now all im thinking is the d/a and damien just half jokingly plans to build a dessert bakery shop together if they didnt go with law or retirement

THEY DONT EVEN BAKE THAT GOOD BUT GOD DAMN JUST IMAGINE JUST ALL THE GIGGLY FITS THE HAPPY LOVEY DOVEY DAYS OF THEM TRYING AND TRYING TO BAKE CUPCAKES

THE FLUFF GUYS- THE FLUFF AKDHSJAJ

#this is maddening yall #im tryna to focus on my grades #but this bunch of bitches (lovingly) has a death grip on me #forever and always I will have brainrot #totally so normal about it #they deserve a slice of fluff as a treat #who killed markiplier #damien x gn!reader #damien x da #mayor damien x reader #wkm #mayor damien #damien the mayor #wkm damien #wkm the mayor x district attorney #mayor attorney

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mangled-nonsense · 2 years

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Part one of this story can be found here

----

Life could get away from you sometimes.

Rising in your career, elected for District Attorney, a whirlwind of life and business. A blur of days in which blackberries and autumn winds and future invitations were pushed aside for work, much to your dismay.

It was odd how memories were marked in one’s mind- the decision of you being District Attorney was done a while back, but that memory was not as prominent in your mind as the one at the edge of the forest, far back behind your house with Damien by your side. But as October continued to bleed on, you had no time to look back on such a memory, let alone recreate something similar.

True enough, Damien was just as busy. Being mayor was no easy feat, after all, and he had a full plate, not to mention the addition of the growing excitement, yet anxious apprehension of Mark’s get-together that was quickly looming over the horizon and approaching fast.

Time was making its slow dance towards him, but even then, he thought of things you couldn’t afford to. He thought of October winds, sharp thorns, the gentle brush of hands, of blackberries and of your laidback laughter. The bursting sweet taste of overripe berries, the hot wash of embarrassment of blurting out some random occult tidbit from his sister’s books, and the way you wore his scarf around your neck.

He’d caught glimpses of you multiple times over the days, passing to and fro down the hall outside his office with that very scarf.

Damien... was struggling, to say the least. With the both of you so busy, he’d hardly had time to pull you aside for even the smallest of exchanging of words.

He had so much he wanted to say though! To thank you for the jars of jam you insisted he take home (”What, you think I could use all this on my own, Dames?” You’d laughed, “I have the blackberries literally outside my door, I insist you take some!”) or ask if the scarf was serving you well. He wanted to ask how you were acclimating to your new office, he wanted to apologize for blurting out such a bizarre, ominous fact, he wanted to ask if he could see you again, if he could take you for lunch or maybe dinner or maybe coffee or-

This was getting out of hand.

A single moment in October between him and his friend and he was beside himself like a schoolboy. How old was he? How long had he known you to warrant this kind of behavior? It was embarrassing for heaven’s sake. But despite the embarrassment, despite the distractingly smitten fond way he thought of you, Damien was determined to have some sort of conversation between the two of you before the month was up and certainly before the two you met at Mark’s manor.

That, currently, was the current conundrum that was keeping him awake at his desk at... Checking the clock for what seemed the hundredth time now, 2 AM. Christ, 2 AM? Was it that late already? He was exhausted, though whether it was the insomnia keeping him up, his leftover work or his own thoughts even Damien didn’t know.

What had spurred that spontaneous thing he’d said before, back then in your kitchen? Ominous and eerie as it was, he hadn’t thought of Celine and her fondness for the occult and supernatural in ages. Why had that moment been the moment his memory decided to click into place? There was that sweet bitterness in his mouth again, reminiscent to the overripe blackberries of that day. God, Celine. That was a whole thing in its entirety he’d been avoiding since... since everything.

Yet, no matter how much she seemed to disappear from their lives, his sister still remained; whether it be by remembering her fondness for the most bizarre, mystical things (something Damien was certain was her inadvertently embarrassing himself in front of you) or just remembering her in all her strange glory.

Damien groaned, burying himself in his arms, feeling the weight of exhaustion lining the underneath of his eyes, and the fog in his mind. “I can’t focus on anything tonight. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”

“You know, for being the mayor of this city of ours, you’d think the people would think twice before electing a vampire to office.”

With a start, Damien shot up, his chair scraping the floor beneath him as he gasped. His hair, while normally slicked back was now unkept and disheveled, locks of hair falling over his face as he suddenly felt everything sway around him with his sudden movements. Blinking blearily, it took him a few moments to gather himself, before he recognized who had spoken so suddenly.

“Oh,” Breathing out a sigh of relief, Damien couldn’t help but smile as you met his gaze with an amused, albeit apologetic, grin, “It’s just you.”

“Just me!” You chuckled, “You sure do know how to flatter a person, Dames.”

Quickly, Damien sought to recover, leaning over his desk and shaking his head, “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just- You startled me, is all, I-”

Laughing, you raised a hand, waving his hurried protests aside, before perching yourself on the edge of his desk. Normally you would have minded your own business, but keen on seeing just what was keeping the poor mayor’s attention so late into the night, you couldn’t help but peer over the papers that were now scattered across the desk’s surface.

It hadn’t slipped past Damien’s notice that you were hugging something to your side, but with the way your body was positioned, he really couldn’t make out what it was without obviously moving to take a better look. Instead, he settled down, smiling sheepishly before your first comment began to register.

“What do you mean by vampire?” He laughed quietly, smoothing his hair back as he began tidying up his mess, “I’ll have you know I only just slightly burn in the sunlight.”

Snorting in amusement, you rolled your eyes, “Please, the way you stay up hours into the night, you might as well be one!” Waggling your eyebrows, you grinned wider, “I haven’t visited your place in ages, but maybe that’s because you don’t want me catching sight of your coffin?”

The two of shared a quiet moment of laughter, and Damien sighed, rubbing at his eyes, “Well, mayoral duties wait for no one. Serving this city comes with its sacrifices. I only hope I can gather myself before Mark’s party.” Another pang of anxiety shivered up his spine, and he smiled your concerned glance away, “Lord knows I won’t be caught slipping at the poker table. Especially if you’re there.”

You smiled, and shook your head, “I can’t help it if I’m a better poker player than you, Dames. Robbing you blind is an art, not by luck but by skill.”

Damien only smiled as you laughed to yourself. Oh, if only you knew. It was hard to keep a straight face when he was under your scrutinous and analytical gaze.

Straightening his back, he was suddenly reminded that this was a rare chance to speak with you. Noting the fact he wanted to speak up, you tilted your head, an inviting smile and quirked eyebrow causing him to hesitate before he began.

“Actually, while I have you here, I... Well, I don’t really know where to start,” He laughed sheepishly, “I haven’t seen you since earlier this month, it’s a miracle I’m able to catch you here at all.” Once more he smoothed his hair back, this time out of nerves as Damien continued, “I... well, first, I want to thank you for the jam. Sweet as it may be, I haven’t had a morning started without it.”

At that, you seemed to perk up, beaming brightly. Whatever you held in your grasp shifted, as if you were hugging it a bit tighter, and Damien did his best not to let his attention wander as you replied, “I’m glad to hear it. I’d promise you more, but the berries are probably all overripe by now... Next year, yeah?”

The mayor blinked owlishly, before a warm smile curled his lips, and he nodded, “Next year.”

“You know,” You laughed suddenly, “You could have just pulled me aside if all you wanted to do was thank me.” Grinning mischievously, you narrowed your eyes, “Unless that bad luck you mentioned before has been taking effect this whole time?”

Damien grimaced- there was that hot flush of embarrassment again, and you only laughed harder, reaching out and nudging his shoulder as he covered his face, “God, that was so out of nowhere. I was hoping you’d forgotten by now.”

“What! Forgotten a tidbit like that? And from this fabled sister of yours I’ve never even gotten to meet?” You snorted, rolling your eyes, “Please, I hardly ever get to hear about your home or personal life, if hearing anything about this sister of yours from an eerie and foreboding throwaway comment is all I get, I’ll take it!”

Shaking his head, Damien only sighed. Yet, there was a pleased flutter in his chest- you wanted to know him more, better. It was true, while in college as outgoing as he was and as eager he was to study alongside you, he rarely gave much of his personal life away. Mentions of friends, mentions of his sister, and yet you never really got to know them or meet them, save for Mark.

And when Mark had gone quiet from the both of you... Neither of you really brought him up again. Once more, his brows furrowed for a moment as he began to sink further in his thoughts.

The poker night was out of nowhere. A celebration? Of what? You had to be just as confused, if not worried. And from what he’d heard, Mark had even invited William of all people? Was this some sort of... way of making amends? Finding a peace with him, with all of them?

“Damien?”

“You’re going to Mark’s poker night gathering, right?” He asked suddenly the moment you called for him. Blinking in surprise, you paused for a moment before nodding. There was some relief in his chest, and he smiled, “Good. You know, maybe after that, I... I can introduce you to Celine. I think she’d like you.”

Watching you light up the way you did was a delight that thrilled his heart. There was nothing like it, and he could even feel himself smile as he watched you grin excitedly.

“You can’t go back on your word now, Damien!” You challenged, “I plan to make the best impression I can with your sister. Just you wait, after Mark’s poker night, I’m going to be in! Your! Life!”

Damien could only smile, chuckling to himself, “I look forward to it.”

Now seated with excitement, you paused for a moment, as if just remembering something before you jumped off the edge of the desk. Whatever that object you were holding in your arms before had smoothed behind your back, hidden from the mayor’s view once more, though with your next words that didn’t seem to be the case for long.

“Speaking of Celine,” You spoke up, smiling, “I’ve got a gift for you, but only! If you can tell me another fun little tidbit...” You revealed the item you were holding, and with a soft thunk placed a jar on the desk, “About raspberries.”

Damien blinked owlishly, staring down at the jar in surprise. Another jar of jam? And raspberries this time? For a moment, he was back on that hill, the faint sting of a thorn pricked on his fingers, but the warmth of your comforting hands around him. It was a small gift, a kind gift, and yet he felt his heart soar and for what felt like the first time in years since his time in school, his cheeks colored.

“A... tidbit about raspberries?” He echoed helplessly, desperately searching his memory from what he could have possibly gathered from one of Celine’s books. Damien felt the sudden hot wash of embarrassment at the back of his neck.

Was it his imagination? Was it your specific choice of berries? Why was he only thinking of the more romantic implications of a raspberry for heaven’s sake?!

Raspberry’s red color is similar to that of blood, and as a consequence is considered potent in love-inducing magic.

Raspberries can be used to strengthen and bring good fortune to marriage, as well as ensure faithfulness.

Raspberries in your served foods and dishes help to heighten feelings of attraction between you and the one you love.

“Raspberries, you say...?” He managed to choke out, meeting your bright, expectant gaze. Say something. Anything. Something!

“...Nothing... that comes to mind,” Damien finally spoke, closing his eyes in his frustration and smoothing his hair back. With a wry smile, he shook his head, “No, unfortunately raspberries aren’t as entirely symbolic as one would hope.”

Opening his eyes, he expected to see disappointment, or perhaps a neutral acceptance to his words on your face. But instead, and much to his surprise, you seemed even more excited than before. Patting the lid of the jar, you smiled.

“Lucky for you, I did my research this time.” You chuckled, walking round the desk and perching yourself on it’s corner, now beside Damien as you slid the jar closer to your friend.

“Apparently, if raspberries are growing near the home, that’s said to provide protection. Now, these weren’t from the shrubs at the back of my place, they’re more of a favor given to me by someone working in Agriculture in the city hall, BUT! It seems that these bad boys,” You pat the lid again almost proudly, “Are the protection counter to whatever bad luck those blackberries give.”

Damien paused, staring at you. He could feel the corners of his lips twitch upwards, “Is that so?”

“Mhm!” You nodded, continuing eagerly, “And there’s also the fact that raspberries can be used to protect against wayward spirits and souls! I’m pretty sure their canes can be hung outside your home to boost that sort of protection.” Winking, you drummed your fingers on the lid of the jar, “So consider this my little protection seal for all your breakfasts and toasts in apology for dooming you with bad luck last time.”

With that, Damien couldn’t help but laugh, instinctively reaching out and taking your hand in his. It was so natural, the urge to reach out and touch you, and you invited him to so often, that he didn’t think twice. But as he watched your cheeks color, he felt his heart skip a beat, and his grip loosened around your hand, just about to drop it... before you grip tightened around his.

“There’s also...” You added, in a more quiet voice, “Many... romantic notions about raspberries. Silly stuff, I know, hah... They’re just berries. But you know, people like to think of the folklore, a-and that sort of stuff. But I thought it was... y’know. Nice.”

There was a beat of silence between the two of you. Damien was half-certain he was dreaming. He was a fool to not expect you knowing the things he knew in your research, but that was the least of his worries now. Now... Now there was a semblance of hope, of possibility, of chance, and if he did not live to his motto, then what was the point?

“It is.” He spoke quietly, squeezing your hand, “It is nice. It may just be me, but I think I’m... more fond of the more romantic association than the others. Is... Is it just me?”

You shook your head and smiled. Damien returned it, his warmth and joy at least tenfold over yours.

“Come on,” His voice was soft, low, as if he worried that he would shatter the moment like glass is he spoke any louder, “Let me walk you home. It’s late.”

With a grin, you nodded, leaving the jar of raspberry jam on his desk before you left to go gather your things. While he waited, Damien reorganized his scattered papers, filing whatever needed filing, grabbing his coat and cane, and feeling a lightness to his step as he met you at the doors of city hall, jar cradled in the crook of his arm.

Holding out his free arm, you laughed quietly as you took it, leaning against him as the two of you walked down the steps of city hall.

“So then,” Damien spoke up, an amused smile on his lips as you both walked down the street, “Protection against wayward souls, romance, what else does folklore have to say over these simple berries? You’ve clearly invested a good amount of research to know all that off the top of your head. Were you even getting any settling down done at all?”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed, “Well, let me see... Besides all that...” There was a pause, before you shrugged, adding nonchalantly, “I guess there’s also one. Something about when a person has died, people would hang raspberry branches on their doors.”

Despite your words there was not much in a tone shift. Instead, Damien only tilted his head and listened as you smiled sheepishly. Seemed like his embarrassment of an ominous, random fun fact was coming back to bite you instead. Nevertheless, there was an etherealness to the atmosphere now, something unspoken but that was fine because it didn’t need speaking. At least not now.

There would be plenty of time after the party to talk.

“Supposedly, it’s to deter their spirit from entering back into the home so that they can more easily transition into the next world.” You finished, smiling up at the mayor.

Damien hummed thoughtfully, shaking his head.

“Talk about unlucky spirit.”

#THIS WAS SO LONG IM SO SORRY SDKJFBS #it was fun to write tho #of COURSE i had to keep the berry theme #i hope this came out well #even if it didnt i have lots of fun writing it #wkm #wkm district attorney #wkm damien #who killed markiplier #wkm y/n #damien x reader #damien/reader #damien x da #damien wkm #drabble #drabbles

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ro-written · 1 year

Text

Who Killed Markiplier?

Episode 1: *Thunder Crash*

A/N: This is basically a remake of the first WKM video but with the reader/viewer's thoughts and actions lol

Warnings: Cussing, Second Person POV, spoilers???? if you havent watched WKM go do so now lmao, someone dies, light angst, you're a simp for Damien

Word Count: 4.6k ... Blame Mark

I felt tired.

Drained.

Worn out.

I felt…

Fuck I didn’t know what to feel anymore.

Only if he dictated it.

He had me running here and there, playing all types of roles. My head felt as if it was spinning at all times.

All this running about and yet I still can’t run away from him.

—

The mansion was…grand. To say the absolute least. Tall, sprawling, intimidating. Something you would only see in films. Fitting for an actor, I suppose.

You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Damien.

You wouldn’t be at the party if it weren’t for Mark’s invitation, yes. But Damien was the only reason that truly sold you on going. You knew Mark by…proxy…of sorts. He seemed like a well-enough guy, if not a bit full of himself at times, but not a complete jerkoff. At least, not when you were around him.

Damien dragged you along to a few of Mark’s parties in college. They had been childhood friends and Damien had been your closest friend in the entirety of the school, having met in a Political Science class. You knew going to these parties would make him happy to see his best friends, but also made him nervous. Therefore, you would attend with. Just as someone to be next to him so he had someone at all times. Even though I am not a party-goer either…

“Oh bully!” A booming voice shook you out of your thoughts. You were suddenly face-to-face with a man in what looked like safari expedition gear. He had quite an impressive mustache, as well as a shining monocle. “And here I thought I was gonna be the last guest to arrive.”

You gave a gentle smile as he put his hands behind his back and bowed a bit.

“My friends call me the Colonel. You’re welcome to do the same, should it please you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Colonel.” You have heard of him before. Damien’s eccentric hunting friend. He was part of the trio of best friends that Damien was a part of. You had also heard that he…well, it was better to not poke around in other people’s business I suppose.

“After you.” He gestured towards the door, inviting you to enter the lavish mansion.

The grand door opens, and you are met with a young man who seemed to be around your age.

“Ah, bonjour! Welcome to Markiplier Manor. Your invitation please.”

His hand stuck out, awaiting the letter you had received only a few days ago. On it had your name written with a title. District Attorney. I will never get used to it.

“Very good, very good. Right this way. Good luck at the table tonight. I shall fetch you a drink forthwith.” His polite smile graced his features as he nodded and turned away. Looking forward you could see Damien talking to a man you were unfamiliar with. Just seeing him was enough to relax your shoulders and allowed you to take a deep breath.

“Oh,” he noticed you walking towards the two of them. “There you are, old friend. How are you settling into your new office?”

You smiled at his concern. Always watching out for everyone. It’s what makes him a good mayor.

“It’s a little…new. But I’m just glad the hard work paid off.”

“Now, I know it’ll take some getting used to, but there’s no one I would rather have alongside me to protect this great city of ours.”

His words make your face burn. Ever since you two were in undergrad, he always had to say these little comments that made you flustered. You just always chalked it up to the fact that it’s hard for you to simply take a compliment. So you simply nod and smile, giggling slightly at his enthusiasm and the wave with his cane.

“Now, I’ll see you at the table soon, but try not to rob me blind again.” He rolled his eyes in exasperation as your eyebrows shot up.

“Maybe be better at the game and you won’t lose so much Damie,” you laughed. He smirked and nodded.

“We’ll catch up,” he leaves you as he walks off, probably towards the Colonel that had walked in behind.

With his presence gone (something that left a piece of you feeling disappointed, although you would never admit such a thing) you took it as an opportunity to explore around a little. Every piece of furniture, every bit of decor, every inch of the house was elegant. It screamed “money” right in anyone’s face who walked in. The lights and color template of the room made you feel warm and cozy. Or maybe it was the lingering excitement of being in Damien’s presence.

You moved from the entry room into the dining room, where someone you could only assume was Mark’s chef was working in silence. You walked up to him, ready to introduce yourself, when he moved to speak before you could.

“If you’re looking for hors d’oeuvres, I’ll get ‘em when I’m good and ready!”

Your smile immediately fell as you jumped back away from the man. He began to walk away, and as you walked behind him to move on to the next room, he swung back around.

“And stay out of my kitchen!” His grating voice threatened.

“Now, now,” A voice came from behind. “Let’s not be rude to our guest.” The butler had returned with a tray of drinks and stood giving the cook a very disapproving stare. He turned to you and put a hand up to offer his apologies.

“So sorry about that,” he grabbed a glass off the tray. “Here’s your champagne.”

“Um, it’s quite alright. You would be surprised how often I get yelled at in my line of work.” You lightly laughed and grabbed the offered drink.

“Enjoy your evening.” He smiled and turned to walk away.

Right before you could continue exploring the house, a voice came from atop the stairs.

“Welcome, welcome, one and all!” He was dressed in a red robe with his hair gelled back. “My name is Markiplier. Thank you for joining me on this auspicious evening. So good to be surrounded by such close and trusted friends.”

His posture stood confidently, slowly stepping down the staircase closer to where you were standing. He is exactly how I last remember him. So confident in front of an audience. It was like he was born to play this role.

“Now, this evening, it’s not all about the poker. It’s not all about me. It’s about you.” He pointed towards you and smiled. It took you aback for a second before you realized he was referring to everyone, but you just so happened to be standing the closest to him.

“So drink up and be merry! Life is for the living! And who knows? I could be dead tomorrow.” He laughs out, and you laugh lightly, surprised at his dark humor. It wasn’t something you quite remember…but people change over the years. Especially when you haven’t seen them in a while. You took down your champagne as the night’s festivities commenced.

Through the haze of all the alcohol, you rinsed Damien at poker, watched as he did a keg stand, lost at beer pong, flipped off the butler (and can not remember why for the life of you), and were suddenly smacked by the man Damien had talked to before. That’s what put you on the ground, staring at the paintings on the ceiling. Your head bobbed around until Damien’s figure came into your line of sight. You blinked and suddenly, he was right in front of you, lightly patting your face.

You blink again, and this time you were falling into your bed, facing towards the clock.

Onl–…only 1 am?????? The paarrrrty needs to keep go-going……..

—

You woke up to an annoying ringing and a killer pounding headache.

Groaning, you sat up, reaching over to turn the alarm bell off. You stretched your arms out above your head and moved side to side, attempting to wake your body up and cure its soreness. Standing, you quickly changed before heading out to greet everyone, and definitely not make fun of their hangovers.

Right outside your door stood the butler from before, holding a tray with one glass of…some mixed substance.

“Ah, good morning. Hope you’ve had a good night’s rest.” You wiped the sleep from your eye a bit and smiled at him and his thoughtfulness.

“I’ve prepared for you a seltzer with cocaine. Best thing for the morning after, if you ask me.” Your smile dropped and your eyes widened a bit. You took it, out of courteousness and held it as he moved away.

Behind him, looking over the rail, was Damien. He stood in front of the enormous windows, casting a glow around his body. He was fully dressed with his hair gelled back and his cane at home in his right hand. He turned around to look at you, a smile on his face.

“Ah, there’s our little monster! You really knocked ‘em dead last night.” Your face heated up at his words, smiling and shaking your head as you set the…concoction the butler gave you on a side table. “I haven’t seen you go wild like that since our days at university.”

“Well, the little monster doesn’t get to let loose like that very often I suppose.” You cocked your head to the side as you look into his bright eyes.

“Good to let the beast out every once in a while, eh, old friend?” You let out a little huff, glancing down at the white rose pinned into his suit jacket. “Then again,” He started, looking down at the ground in confusion. “I’m-I’m still not exactly sure as to what we’re supposed to be celebrating here.” You nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. It did confuse you, but you were just an outsider. The fact that Damien seemed to be confused about the party piqued your interest.

“I mean, it’s good to have the gang back together, but…out of the blue like this seems…” He trailed off, getting lost in his thoughts as he looks over the banister downstairs. “Anyway, now is not the time to become conspiratorial. Life is ours to choose, as I always say.”

“Yes, you’re never-ending motto. I remember you frequently telling me in university.” You laugh, eyes twinkling. You pick on him for it a lot but, if you were being honest, it was something that got you through the toughest of days.

“I have some work to finish, but I’ll meet you at breakfast. We’ll all catch up soon.” With a nod, he walked off to do whatever executive work he decided to bring along with him. Always busy, that one.

You reflected on his last sentence. We’ll all catch up soon. It felt heavy to think about. After everything that happened between Mark and the Colonel, and Damien attempting to play mediator, the statement held much more meaning than one may realize.

Suddenly, you find yourself at the bottom of the stairs. You glance around at the lavish manor, hands behind your back to keep from knocking into anything. One of these portraits must be worth my pay for the next five years. You turned around to eye a knight’s armor that gave you an odd feeling being near. Like it was watching you just as you watched it. You started to back up when a sudden noise made you swing around. Before you knew it, a body was dropping right in front of your eyes and landed on the ground with a resounding thud.

Your heart dropped to the very pits of your stomach.

Mark.

Thunder crashed throughout the mansion as you stood staring at his gaping face.

“Did anyone hear that lightning?” You turned to come face-to-face with the man Damien had been talking to before, the one that had hit you last night.

“OH MY GOD! THERE’S BEEN A MURDER!” Another clap of thunder resonated off the walls.

“Excuse me,” the butler came around the corner. “But did you hear light–OH MY GOD MURDER!” Crash.

“Did you–? MUUUURDER!” The chef yelled, pointing at Mark’s lifeless body. Crash.

You were suddenly being pulled closer toward the first man, wearing a Sherlock Holmes deerstalker hat.

“What the hell happened here? Who’s in charge around here? Trick question: the guy. And he’s dead now, which makes ME in charge. So you better listen up good, bucko. ‘Case you haven’t been paying attention, there’s been a bit of a…killin’.” Everyone looked around, waiting for the next thunder crash.

Silence.

“And you’re my prime suspect. So you better get to explaining right quick as to the what, where, when, and why you happen to be here upon this man’s death!”

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, trying to create the right words to tell this guy it wasn’t me. Your brain was short-circuiting, with no thoughts except the image of Mark falling right in front of you.

“Sir,” the butler cut you off before you had a chance to speak. “The body is cold. He’s been dead a while.” You blinked in awe as, who you assumed to be, the detective laughed.

“A likely story! That I happen to believe completely. All right, you’re off the hook for now, but I’m a detective, and–”

“Oh yeah?” the chef interrupted. “Prove you’re a real dick!” The detective pulls something from his robe.

“Here’s my badge. Asshole.” He turned to you, a series of pictures falling from the badge. “Ah, those are my old partners. Don’t ask me about them. Fine! I’ll tell you.”

Damien, where are you?

“Each one of them died. Each death more tragic than the last. A few of them even died in ironically hilarious ways.” You cocked your head, looking towards the cook who gave you an ominous wide-eyed stare.

“Which made it all the more tragic. But hey, you look like you’re up to the task. You’re my new partner.” Your heart lept from your stomach to your throat, as you shake your head violently. He just laughed.

“That’s what all my old partners used to say. Right before they died.” You glanced at the cook again, and he seemed nervous for you.

“All right. Hand me that fingerprinting kit behind you, partner.” You turned to grab it but it was nowhere to be found. Turning back around to ask where it was, you found that the detective already created a closed-off crime scene.

“Thanks, partner!”

You squatted underneath the police tape, watching as the detective inspected the body. A pair of footsteps signaled to you another presence entering.

“What the hell happened here?” Damien asked, face and voice riddled with concern.

“Oh! Mr. Mayor. I’m so sorry. There’s been a murder.” A crash echoed as the butler informed Damien of the previous moments.

“A murder?” Clap. “Who?”

“It’s Mark.” The chef broke it to him. You looked at Damien, eyebrows drawn. You didn’t want to know how he felt. They were childhood best friends.

“I’m afraid he’s telling the truth.” The detective inputted from his squatting position. “Mark’s been…killed.”

“Why? Who would do this?”

“That’s exactly what me and my new partner here are here to find out.” You squinted at the detective as he looked toward you.

“Um, excuse me. I feel like we should call the authorities for them to handle this matter.” The butler chimed in.

“Look, buddy, as far as you’re concerned, I AM the authorities.” The detective once again pulled out his badge.

“The fact of the matter is, I believe the killer is right here amongst us in this very house. With that freaky lightning storm outside, none of us would get very far, anyway.” You nodded along with him, lips pursed together.

“In the meantime, we’re stuck here. But I’m gonna get to the bottom of this. The rest of you, get back to your rooms, hunker down, and pray to God you’re not next to be murdered.” Crash.

“I’ll…I’ll check on our other guests.” The butler notes, walking away.

“I’ll get back to cooking. All this death made me hungry.” Odd man.

You moved to go toward Damien, still staring at the white sheet on the floor. His mind seemed to be racing a million miles an hour.

“I…I-I need to talk to the Colonel about this.” He gripped his cane as he stepped backward, then proceeded to walk purposefully away. Your chest hurt seeing him that way.

“All right, partner. It’s time to get to work.” You squatted down in front of the detective. “Judging by the temperature of the body that I measured rectally…which is obviously the most accurate way to get the inner body temperature of a corpse. That’s a fact, totally procedure. Don’t tell anyone I did it.” Man, this guy talks.

“I am sure Mark was killed around 1:30 a.m. last night.” He stared off into the air as if reading some sort of clue written in the room. Suddenly, he jumped up, finger-pointing toward you.

“So what were YOU doing at 1:30 a.m. last night?”

“I…I was in my bed. You had knocked me down, Damien checked on me, and then I was laying in my bed. I remember seeing the clock as I fell asleep.” You managed to rush out, your authoritative voice switching on just as it would do in a courtroom setting.

“I’m gonna ignore the strange fact that you sleep with your eyes open.” You stood up, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “But it checks out. So, we need to figure out where everyone was and what they were doing around that time or, at the very least, who saw Mark last.” You nodded in agreeance.

“You need to get out there. See if you can piece together the story of what happened last night. I’ll stick around with the body and run more…tests.” You watched the strange man as he went down, sniffing his fingers. Where the hell do Damien and Mark find these people?

You duck under the caution tape, walking towards a room that seemed to have quite a commotion stirred inside.

“Oh, how can you be so flippant?”

“Flippant?! I’m taking this matter very seriously.” You peeked through the crack in the door to see Damien standing there yelling at a familiar voice.

“Oh, don’t give me that horseshit! I know you hated him, but…goddammit, he reached out to you!” Damien’s voice, the pleading tone behind it, made your heart clench.

“Oh, what do you want from me, then?” The voice inquired back lackadaisically.

“Wh–I want you to care!” The sudden shift in his voice made you jump. You had never heard Damien yell in that way before, especially not toward his friends. It scared you, making you realize how there’s still a lot to the man you have yet to learn.

“Just because I’m not weeping like a child doesn’t mean that I don’t care.”

“I can’t believe you.” Damien pointed his cane at the other man. “You come find me when you pull your head out of your ass!” He suddenly turned and almost walked right into you, stopping just at the door. You took a step back, scared at how you were just caught eavesdropping.

“S-sorry…”

Damien aggressively grabbed the door open and brushed past you, not saying anything past a whispered: “Excuse me.”

You decided to muster up your courage and step into the room to face the man he had been talking to. The one that was causing him so much strife. You turned the corner only to be met with the Colonel sitting in a chair, hat down.

“Damien, I don’t–oh.” He looked up to realize exactly who he was talking to. His entire tone shifted. “Ah! Good to see you again! You were quite the rapscallion at last night’s festivities.” He stood from his chair to greet you.

“But…you’re probably here to help the detective with his ‘investigation of murder.’” Crash. “Anyway. I’ll help you, I’ll tell you what happened to our dear friend Mark.” He seemed to be exaggerated in his movement. As he flailed his arms around, pretending to be Mark from last night.

“‘Oh, look at me! My name is Markiplier now! Forget all my friends or the people that helped me along the way; just look at my money! Oh, I need to pay people to be my friends! Ha ha ha! You like me? Too bad! Oh, glug glug! Oopsie poopsie! I can’t hold my booze. Gotta go off to the little boys’ room. Who wants to join me? I’m gonna go up there upon my stairs. MY house has more than ONE staircase. Oh, look at me and how great I AM! Oh no, I'm falling! Aaah, I’m dead.’”

You stood staring at him as he finished up, what you could only assume to be, a little ranting session about his frustrations toward his once-friend.

“And that’s what happened. Probably, anyway. So, if you need to corroborate this story with anybody else, just be on your way and investigate the entire house. Go now. I’ll be here when you’re done.” With his hand flicks, you made your way out of the room, very confused to say the least.

Just before you left the room, however, the butler pops out from the doorway.

“Come with me. I need to show you something. Now, if you’re looking for answers, there’s really no mystery at all.” He winds you down a hallway, walking with purpose towards…something.

“There’s not a single detail of this house that I'm not privy to, and not a single guest that I have not personally vetted.” He stepped to walk in front of you, leading the way. When suddenly, he jumps around toward you, finger out in front.

“Now I warn you: what you are about to see is not for the faint of heart. A domain of evil this is…” he leads you to a set of stairs descending into what seemed to be some sort of basement or dungeon. “...but in we must go. … You first.”

You stepped down the stairs into a cellar. There was an entire wall dedicated to holding wines, with some bottles sitting on the center shelves. Your heart raced as you looked around, looking for any clues as to what may have happened last night. Looking down, you found a broken wine bottle.

“Why did you–”

“AVERT YOUR EYES!” The butler came rushing in around you towards the shattered glass. “I’m so sorry you had to see this! Master would be so displeased! If only he were still alive!” A sobbing came from the man as you slowly stepped back towards the stairs. Then, finally deciding it was okay, you ran up them to get far away.

Making it to the top of the stairs, you turn to your left to see the chef in the kitchen, chopping away at something. You decided to question him about where he was last night.

“I thought I told you to stay out of my kitchen!” You jumped, stepping back, a knife held tightly in his hand.

“I’m just…helping the detective question people.” Your eyes flicker between the man’s eyes and his knife.

“Oh. You’re helping that dick with his little investigation, huh?” You nodded, hands in the air to show you were unarmed. “Well, I might look like a sweet and innocent man, but some people with short lifespans might think otherwise. I can’t imagine why, can you?” You shook your head, jumping back a step.

“Last night, after I got rid of all of the evidence…” You held your breath.

“...of that delicious meal I prepared, and wiped down all the fingerprints…” Your eyes widened.

“...from those filthy dishes. And sopped up all that blood…” Your teeth clenched.

“I retired to my room at 1:00 a.m. and left my little buddy in charge like I always do.” He turned to present the lifelike statue sitting on the counter. He gave it a little kiss on the cheek before putting his arm around it like an old friend.

“He sees everything. Why don’t you ask HIM what happened last night?” You shifted toward the statue and began to watch the video from the cameras in him.

—

The footage flipped back further and further in dates and moved locations around the manor til it finally found something of value. The detective talking to Mark.

“Abe!”

“Mark! Good to see ya.”

“Great to see ya. Look, I’ll cut right to the chase. Chef, butler, good?”

“Chef's an asshole, but he’s clean. Uh…butler, he’s a new guy. Also an asshole, but he’s clean.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The footage cut.

—

You stepped away from the “Little Buddy.” Looking around the kitchen, the chef you had expected to be staring you down was no longer around, having seemingly disappeared into thin air. Skeptically, you stepped out into the hallway to see if you could find anyone. Passing by a set of double doors, you decided to walk outside to get a bit of fresh air.

The day was so beautiful. The sky was clear and the birds were chirping. You could see over the entire town. The town that you and Damien were in charge of keeping safe. The realization has hit you more than once, but every time it hits you with a baseball bat right in the gut.

You could hear someone’s footsteps pacing around nearby, and you followed the sound over to where Damien was swinging his cane around, deep in thought. He finally turned to you, startled. It was the first time you had seen him since he snapped earlier. He let out a gentle sigh as he walked towards you.

“Look, I’m sorry you saw that argument with the Colonel. I lost my temper and it wasn’t right and…he must be in shock.” He looked down to the ground as if trying to figure out his words.

“Don’t apologize Damien. You are under a lot of stress right now. I can’t imagine how it all feels for you.” You offered him a smile as you rubbed at your palms, a slight nervous tick.

“The Colonel’s an eccentric; it’s his best quality and his worst. But he’s my friend, and…so was Mark.” You looked down, at a loss for words on how to comfort him.

“I know I’m supposed to be a leader in this scenario, but I can’t help but feel lost!” His voice shook as he continued. “I’ve known Mark for years, since we were kids! … And he’s just gone?” His eyes pleaded to you. They were begging you to say something, but you didn’t quite know what to say or offer him. His face firmed.

“I don't have any answers right now. I just need to be alone…to process all of this.”

“Of course Damien…take your time.” Your hand twitched, aching to reach out and rub his shoulder with some sort of semblance of sympathy. But you held back.

“We’ll talk soon, but I need to think.” He walked away, head hanging.

A sudden whisper from behind you made you whip your head around to a bush.

“Hey! Partner! Get over here, now! Hurry up!” You raced forward as the Detective started walking into the manor.

“You’re not gonna believe this; I can barely believe this! The body: it’s gone. It’s just fucking disappeared. Look!”

Sure enough, as you walked into the gathering room, the taped outline of the body was all that was left. Nothing else remained as evidence of the crime.

Mark was gone.

#markiplier #who killed markiplier #damien x reader #damien x da #markiplier egos #markiplier fanfiction

9 notes · View notes

elenavr13 · 8 months

Text

Darkiplier/Damien Playlist (Updated)

172 songs

Evermore- Dan Stevens

Everybody Wants To Tule the World- Lorde

Control- Halsey

Gasoline- Halsey

Dynasty- MIIA

Judas- Lady Gaga

Take Me To Church- Hozier

Castle- Halsey

Sing To Me- MISSIO

Kamikazee- MISSIO

Panic Room- Au/Ra

Isolate- Sub Urban

Elastic Heart (Rock Cover)- Written by Wolves

Crossfire- Stephen

Dead!- My Chemical Romance

Stressed Out- Twenty One Pilots

Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift

Smooth Criminal- Michael Jackson

The Voice of Darkiplier- Markiplier

I’ll Be Good- Jaymes Young

I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

Do I Wanna Know- Arctic Monkeys

In His Eyes- Jekyll & Hyde (musical)

Can You Feel My Heart- Bring Me to the Horizon

Feeling Good- Michael Buble

Can You Feel My Heart x Favorite Dress (slowed)- Miro remix

My Demons- Starset

Achilles Come Down- Gang of Youth

Monster- Skillet

What’s the Use of Feeling Blue- Caleb Hyles

Where I Want to Be- Chess in Concert

Can’t Help Falling In Love- Ice Nine Kills

The American Nightmare- Ice Nine Kills

A Grave Mistake- Ice Nine Kills

Left Behind- DAGames

Farewell II Flesh- Ice Nine Kills

Below the Surface- Griffinilla

The Wrecked and the Worried- NateWantsToBattle

You Can’t Take Me Anywhere- NateWantsToBattle

Goner- Twenty One Pilots

You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid- The Offspring

Fake You Out- Twenty One Pilots

Miss You- Corpse

Epoch- The Living Tombstone

In the End- Linkin Park

Me, Myself & Hyde- Ice Nine Kills

The World In My Hands- Ice Nine Kills

Popular Monster- Falling In Reverse

Monster- Imagine Dragons

What I Could Have Been- Sting

Hushh- AViVA

Phantom of the Opera

Darkside- NEONI

Broken- DNMO & Sub Urban

Killer In the Mirror- Set It Off

Doubt- Twenty One Pilots

I’m Not Okay- My Chemical Romance

Friends on the Other Side- Princess and the Frog

Poison- WE ARE THE FURY

Apologize- One Republic

My Lullaby (metal cover)- Jonathan Young

I See Red (slowed)- Everybody Loves an Outlaw

Tear In My Heart- Twenty One Pilots

I Hate Everything About You- Three Days Grace

F.L.Y- Ice Nine Kills

Migraine- Twenty One Pilots

Car Radio- Twenty One Pilots

Demons- MISSIO

Snakes- PVRIS & MIYAVI

Villain- KDA

Royalty- Egzod & Maestro Chives ft. Neoni

The Red Means I Love You- Madds Buckley

Loser- Neoni

Not Ready To Die- Avenged Sevenfold

I Want You- Mitski

Poltergeist- Corpse

Life Waster- Corpse

All Of Me (slowed)- John Legend

Young And Beautiful- Lana Del Rey

Dark Paradise (slowed)- Lana Del Rey

How Villains Are Made- Madalen Duke

Love and War- Fluerie

Dark Things- Adona

Wicked Game- Ursine Vulpine

Neptune- Sleeping At Last

Enemy- Tommee Profitt

Far From Home (The Raven)- Sam Tinnesz

City Of The Dead- Eurielle

Throne- Saint Mesa

Paint it, Black- Ciara cover

Man Or A Monster- Sam Tinnesz

Dark On Me- Starset

Hell’s Comin’ With Me- Poor Mans Poison

Wires- The Neighbourhood

Liquid Smooth- Mitski

Little Dark Age- MGMT

Devil In Disguise- Elvis (LLusion)

Toxic- 2WEI

Dark Room- Foreign Figures & EJ Michels

Heathens- Twenty One Pilots

Dance With The Devil- Breaking Benjamin

Black Out Days- Phantogram

Somewhere Only We Know- Keane

Monsters- Ruelle

Whispers In The Dark- Skillet

Salvaged- NateWantsToBattle

Saint Bernard- Lincoln

F*ck You- Silent Child

I Know Those Eyes/This Man Is Dead- Thomas Borchert, Brandi Burkhardt

Broken Inside- Broken Iris

Sweet Dreams- Besomorph

EVIL- AViVA

Saints- Echos

Screaming Bloody Murder- Sum 41

Dandelions (slowed)- Ruth B

Master Mirror- Ashley Serena

Everyday A Little Death- The Count of Monte Cristo

FREAK- Jordan Friction

Broken (slowed)- lovelytheband

Michelle- Sir Chloe

Like A Villain- BAD OMENS

If It’s Vengeance You Want- Unlike Pluto

Monster- Fight The Fade

Listen Before I Go- Billie Eilish

Mary On a Cross (slowed)- Ghost

R.I.F.P.- MOTHICA

Nervous- Lola Blanc

Unravel- Johnathan Young

Lost In Paradise- Evanescence

Lies- Evanescence

Haunted- Laura Les

Dread- Unlike Pluto

Monsters- Shinedown

Black Soul- Shinedown

Sorrow- Sleeping At Last

Seeing Red- Saint Chaos

Villain- Bella Poarch

Lithium- Nirvana

Smells Like Teen Spirit- Nirvana

Down With The Sickness- Disturbed

Animal I Have Become- Three Day Grace

Greed- Godsmack

One of Us is the Killer- The Dillinger Escape Plan

All The King’s Horses- Karmina

Gilded Lily- Cults

Haunted & Unwanted- NateWantsToBattle

Symbol of My Regret- NateWantsToBattle

In My Head- NateWantsToBattle

Vendetta- Unsecret & Krigare

Nothing To Me- NateWantsToBattle

Chasing Cars- Sleeping At Last

Villain- MISSIO

Used to the Darkness- Des Rocs

Unforgiven- Ghost Nation

Monster- Starset

Eight- Sleeping At Last

Already Gone- Sleeping At Last

Devilish- The Phantoms

Motherland- Reach

Falling Away From Me- Korn

Just a Man- Jorge Rivera-Herrans & EPIC Ensemble

Something Wicked- Starset

Darkness in Me- Fight The Fade

I Would Die for You- In This Moment

Eye For An Eye- Rina Sawayama

Psycho in my Head- Skillet

Done With Everything- Line So Thin

Monster- Besomorph

Twisted Games- Night Panda, Krigarè

Killer Inside of Me- Willyecho

King For A Day- Pierce The Veil ft. Kellin Quinn

someone i’m not- Layto

#markiplier #youtuber ego #darkiplier #a heist with markiplier #ahwm #ahwm darkiplier #darkiplier x y/n #darkiplier x da #markiplier damien #damien x da #damien the mayor #who killed markiplier #wkm #wkm darkiplier #wkm damien #character playlist

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buc-eebarnes · 2 years

Note

could we get a “pressing a kiss to the other’s forehead as they sleep” with mayor damien and the da?

hello anon! thank you for your request! this is the second of the damien x da double feature, the first of which is this fic: fill my lungs, fill my head

from this prompt list. requests are closed at this time.

with sweetness, with you

pairing: damien x the district attorney

tags: forehead kisses, literal sleeping together, established relationship, secret relationship, damien-centric

rated T || 1080 words || read on ao3!

Damien wakes to a lightning storm thrashing outside the window.

His eyes blink lazily, but the noise doesn’t bother him in the least. He welcomes rainy days—there’s always been something so calming about the pitter-patter of it, the coziness that blankets the city after a dry spell.

He looks down at where he’s curled around his district attorney, sleeping soundly in his arms. Their ages-old face always looked so young whenever they rested. Damien thinks it’s the only time that they can really, truly let go of all their troubles, of their burdens.

Thunder rumbles again. The attorney shifts slightly, but not enough to wake. Damien rests his cheek on top of their head, absentmindedly stroking their shoulders.

He tries going back to sleep, but it’s difficult. He managed to fall asleep as soon as he and his attorney were finished with their…nighttime activities…but now that he has woken up, it seems like the drowsiness has evaded him.

The clock on the table reads 3:55 AM. He huffs a sigh and mentally runs through his schedule for the day.

He has to be in the office in four hours. Around 9 AM, he has meetings that run until noon. The rest of the day is dedicated to driving around the city and inspecting all of the different areas that need his attention. It’s going to be a long one, but at least the party will be something to look forward to in the evening. Like his attorney said, it’d be nice to see Mark again.

The thought of his friend puts a heavy weight on his mind.

It’s been a few years since Celine ran away with William. Damien didn’t know that anything was transpiring between the two; anytime he asked Mark how they were doing, or anytime he tried approaching Celine, they had always shrugged it off.

Damien didn’t realize how much they’d been fighting. How they were throwing things at each other, screaming obscenities and insults at one another. He only saw when he and William had come to the house when the spouses had been in the middle of their biggest fight and William, in an attempt to prevent Celine from getting hurt, had just taken Damien’s sister away, leaving Mark in shambles and cursing out his adoptive brother.

There was love there, once. Damien had been wary of their relationship since its conception, but he had always supported them, no matter what, even when Celine had started pursuing occult practices and Mark rose to fame as an actor.

He hasn’t talked to his sister since the incident. He wonders if she’ll be at the party.

Mark, he’s heard even less from. Ever since Celine left, he’d holed himself up in the manor, never stepping outside, not even taking on any roles or projects. He was a recluse in the public’s eye, and even some of his more determined fans didn’t seem to know what happened to him.

The district attorney, at one point, had marched up to the manor every single day for three months. They’d left food, groceries, things that Mark needed to keep functioning. Benjamin always met them at the door, and he always said the same thing, sadly,

“I apologize, but the master is not feeling well today.”

The district attorney cared a lot about Mark. In college, they both had a bond that not even Damien could break. They were inseparable—thick as thieves. Mark was more of a best friend to the attorney than he ever was. Their dynamic changed only when Celine and Mark got together.

They never said anything, but the change in his friend’s demeanor was palpable.

To his knowledge, nothing romantic had ever transpired between the two. He’d asked the attorney, once.

Something sad and dark passed through their eyes, but they shook their head vehemently. “No. Nothing’ll ever happen between me and him.”

And that was that.

Damien supposes that falling in love with the attorney was something that couldn’t be avoided. They were gorgeous. They were full of life. Personable. Easy to talk to. You could go to them with any problem and they’d give you solid advice. They’d never bullshit him.

They were kind, too. Attentive. Considerate. Encouraging. Even when the attorney had bad days, they never failed to think of others.

Falling in love was both gradual and quick. There was a pull to them that Damien couldn’t shake, and there was nothing else in the world that would have made him stray away. “Ride or die,” they had once said, taking his hand and bringing it up to their lips. “You’ve stuck with me this far. I’ll stick with you in the days to come.”

He was actually surprised when the attorney was the one to approach him with their feelings. It made Damien elated—he’d been harboring something for them for years, and to hear the attorney return it…

It’s a shame, however, that they have to keep their relationship a secret. Regimes have survived on less, but a scandal regarding the most well-liked mayor in decades and a promising newly-elected district attorney would have sent the media for a spin. Damien’s family was affluent and powerful. Word would have gotten out that the attorney was only able to get the position because they were connected to his family, and no one would have taken the time to acknowledge his friend’s hard work, to consider the other side of it all.

So this is what they have settled with. A house that they share, but none of their family members or their friends know. Damien debated on whether he should have told Mark or Celine, or William, for that matter, as they were all within the circle to know, but he secretly liked that this was theirs. As much as he would love for their relationship to be public, it just wasn’t feasible.

The attorney sleeps soundly against the raging storm. Damien gently kisses their temple, and they snuggle further into his hold.

In the morning, he will go through his routine, and in the evening, he will meet with the rest of his friends at Markiplier Manor. He will have a good time with old friends, and he will finally face Mark after a year of silence. And who knows what might happen? He and the attorney might be able to tell their friends the news of their relationship.

Life is theirs to choose, after all.

buy me a coffee!

#damien x da #damien x y/n #damien the mayor #mayor damien #who killed markiplier #wkm damien #wkm district attorney #y/n district attorney #my fic #anon #ask #for the late night crowd

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otterlyinluv · 1 year

Text

A touch of darkness (pt.2)

Here's part 1

Summary: What happened after the office incident OR in which Yancy tries to eat breakfast and Wilford becomes a matchmaker

Pairing: Darkiplier x DA!Reader

Tags: sfw, fluffy, jealous Dark, proximity, thunderstorm, comfort, confessions and realisations

A/N: I apologize for the long wait, I actually finished it earlier but I decided to scrap the last third and rewrite it completely- Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.9k

"So you like Mr. Doom and gloom, so what?"

You almost choked on the chocolate milk Wilford made you.

"No, that doesn't make sense. Nothing even happened. He just fixed my computer, and then I felt weird."

Wilford raised an eyebrow at you.

"My dear, you might not see it, but you look like a lovesick fool."

Your face started to feel warm.

"No, I do not! I came for advice, Wilford, but now I know I chose the wrong person." You stood up from the armchair, leaving the chocolate milk on the desk, when Wilford started to wave his arms around.

"Okay, okay, fine, I'll stop." He grabbed you by the shoulders and plopped you back on the armchair.

"Now," he said, no longer in the spot he was a second ago. His little teleporting shenanigans didn't bother you as much as they did during the first months of your stay at the mansion. Whenever he suddenly disappeared and reappeared at a completely different place, you'd always get a mini heart attack, which lead to him doing it even more frequently to mess with you. What you hadn't realized then was he did it only to get you used to things that weren’t exactly normal. Wilford was a good guy at heart even if his methods were a bit... unconventional.

"Since you don't believe me, we'll go about it in a different way." You turned around to where he was. He made you stand up from the chair and gripped your hands.

"Which thoughts race through your head like fluttering butterflies frolicking in a field when he’s with you? How does he make you feel in general?"

The corner of your mouth turned up at the metaphor, and you looked off into the distance. After the encounter in your office, you started bumping into each other far more frequently than before. Or maybe you noticed him more. And when you did see each other, his gaze seemed to linger on you a suspiciously long time. Whenever you made eye contact during meetings, you felt a flutter in your chest. A flutter you didn't feel with anyone else.

You looked at Wilford with a sense of epiphany. His eyes seemed to light up.

"Am I interrupting something?" Dark said, standing in the doorway, his arms crossed.

You ripped your hands from Wilfords'.

"Oh, Darkie. Why we were just having a lovely chat, nothing for you to worry about." Wilford drawled, putting his arm over your shoulder.

Dark's eyes darted to your shoulder, and his gaze hardened. The colored aura that surrounded him seemed to gain a more blue hue. It only lasted a couple of seconds before he rolled his neck.

"Excuse me." He suddenly ran off out of the room, his fists clenched.

You saw Wilford grinning out of the corner of your vision as he put his arm away from you.

"Wilford, what did you do?" You said, glaring at him.

"I just gave him a little push, that's all."

You really wanted some cereal.

The mansion was pleasantly quiet because you liked to wake up earlier than everyone else. While listening to Illinois boast about all his adventures or Google try to subtly persuade you to grant him admin privileges was entertaining once in a while, it wasn't something you wanted to do first thing in the morning.

You were able to find your favorite brand of cereal, a spoon, and some milk. The only thing that was missing was a bowl. You looked into the cupboard where the bowls usually were, but there were none. You wondered who kept misplacing the contents of the cupboards and kept searching.

Still nothing.

You grabbed a chair to stand on so you could reach the cupboards that were higher up. You carefully stood up on it and opened the one closest to you. Finally!

Unfortunately for you, the bowls were on the top shelf. You huffed and stood on your tiptoes. After stretching your arm as far as you could, you were finally able to grab a suitable bow.

But you leaned back so suddenly you lost your balance. You flailed your arms in a futile attempt to regain stability. You mentally prepared yourself to come into contact with the cold hard floor when you felt someone grab your waist to support you.

You let out a relieved breath only to look down at the grey hands, which were now firmly holding you in place. The area which the hands were in contact with was completely devoid of color. You turned around to see Dark without his signature jacket, his eyes wide. You were frozen, but your skin burned where his hands were.

"You should be more careful. You would have fallen if I hadn't gotten to you in time."

You couldn't move. The only thing you felt was the oddly gentle hold he had on you. The bowl, which you were now holding safely, was the last of your worries.

"Still as clumsy as ever," he chuckled under his breath. His thumbs twitched, and you blinked at each other in realization of your compromising position.

He cleared his throat as he stepped back as if burned, removing his hands in the process. You carefully got down from the chair.

It was so quiet you could almost hear his aura crackle in the air like static.

"I, uh... Thank you for... that."

"You are welcome," he said quietly.

You were looking at the ground, your face strangely warm. Your gaze traveled to his shirt, the first two buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands bordered with blue and red the hands that held you were now hanging at his sides.

You stared too long. You could feel him looking at you. You glanced at him.

He was looking straight at you. So intensely that you felt like he could see directly into your soul. So expressively, his eyes seemed more brown than black.

He took a shuddering breath.

"Is youse making cereal? Leave some for me!" Your head jolted to Yancy standing in the doorway.

Dark snapped out of whatever trance he was in and promptly left the room with no parting words.

"Woah, what got him so worked up?" Yancy walked to you as you looked at the door, deep in thought.

"I'd like to know that too."

After having finished your perfect bowl of cereal, it was back to sitting in your tiny office. Normally, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Nothing special, just you sitting behind your desk working at your computer. Except you weren't. You couldn't.

Not when whenever you closed your eyes, you could remember Dark standing over you so clearly. Your little... encounter happened a few weeks ago, yet you still couldn't focus properly while you were here. It took you at least half an hour to distract yourself enough to at least start working. It was frustrating, but there wasn't much you could do. Talk to him about it when he has most likely forgotten about it already? Yeah, sure.

Now that you thought about it, there was something else that was making you unfocused today. Why did Dark look like he wanted to murder Wilford when he was just being touchy as usual?

And this morning... He just caught you out of politeness so you wouldn't fall flat on your face. Or maybe he just didn't want you to break the bowl. You didn't allow yourself to even consider the possibility that maybe he didn't want to see you hurt. And the way his hands stayed on your waist just a few seconds more... Boy, did you forget how to talk then.

Maybe you were looking into it too much. Sure, he was nicer than before, but he could simply be more comfortable with you. As a friend. Yeah, that must be it.

Satisfied with your thinking session, you were ready to get to work.

Your concentration was disturbed by the sound of your door opening, followed by a thud of something heavy being dumped in, and then the door immediately slammed shut again.

You looked up from your computer to a sight you never would have expected - Dark rapping at the door, violently shaking the door handle.

"Now Damie, remember what I told you. If you want something, go get it!" Wilford slurred, his voice muffled by the door.

"Wilford, open the door this instant, or I swear I will kill you. I am serious."

"Oh, promises, promises. Focus your energy on the important things!" Wilford's voice faded away as he supposedly walked away from the door.

"That insufferable..." he mumbled to himself, turning around.

His clothes were wrinkled as if someone tried to physically push him into the room but was met with resistance. You couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Uhm, welcome, I guess."

He sighed. "Hi."

"So, what happened for you to end up here of all places?" You leaned on your arm. It might have been an unexpected situation, but that didn't mean you weren't going to enjoy it. Dark, on the other side, seemed really determined to fulfill his promise to Wilford. "When Wil sets his mind to something, nothing can stop him. Not even me." He tried to open the door to emphasize his point, and as expected, it didn't budge.

"Can you not get out by... other means?" You never really knew how his powers worked. And you doubted he would tell you even if you did ask.

"No. I don't know how he did it, but he managed to completely lock me out -" He looked around. "-or in. Technically."

As his eyes surveyed the room, you realized how small it was. It was enough for you, but Dark seemed to fill a big part of the room just with the colored aura that surrounded him. Come to think of it, why was he standing so far away from where you were?

"Well, I'm guessing we're going to be here for some time, so why don't we sit down somewhere more comfortable?" You pointed to a light brown sofa leaning against a wall. His eyes followed your hand to the middle-sized sofa. You winced. You didn't want to make it awkward for him to sit down there alone, but maybe he would rather you didn't sit with him. Why didn't you just ask him what he wanted in the first place-

He simply nodded and sat on the sofa. Having no other choice, you plopped down next to him.

Small raindrops started hitting the window.

You turned to say something to fill the silence at the same time as he did, which resulted in you looking away from each other. He let out the quietest chuckle, and you couldn't help yourself but do the same.

"You can go first." Dark said.

"Ah, it wasn't anything specific, just that the rain is getting stronger." You expected him to simply nod and direct the topic somewhere else. Instead, he looked over to the window. The rain was now strong enough to be audible if you were both quiet, which is what was happening now. Dark looked as if he was observing the rain. As if simply the fact you told him about it gave it value.

"It indeed is."

After a couple of seconds, he took a breath. "I've never noticed how small this office is."

"You're right, but I like it. It makes it feel cozy. It also holds memories more easily. " In fact, your brain was recalling a rather specific memory involving him. But you doubted he would be thinking of that.

"Well, I'm glad. The area carries a certain air that only you have."

"Oh, and what might that be?" You smirked.

"Comfort. Something you want to return to and treasure every moment spent with."

You stared at him wide-eyed.

"Ah, I said too much, didn't I? Forgive me." He looked to the door.

You were touched by how highly he thought of you. Yet there was an unspoken implication in his statement.

Thunder rang out.

You flinched and crashed into Dark. His arms shot out, cradling you against him.

"Are you alright?"

You squeezed your eyes closed as you tried to focus on your breathing.

"I... I'm just scared of thunder. The sound..." You trailed off, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

His hold on you tightened as he gently moved your head to the crook of his neck. He rubbed his hand across your back in soothing motions with a soft "Shh" every couple of seconds. You let him hold you until you eventually stopped shaking like a leaf in the wind.

That's when you realized what a compromising position you were in and stared at him in shock.

"I apologize, I overstepped." He frowned, untangling his hands from you.

As soon as you felt the absence of him, you realized.

"I don't mind." You said, and his face visibly relaxed. "I actually don't mind a lot of things when it comes to you. Simply being with you is... nice."

He let out a quiet laugh. You wished you could put the sound in a bottle. "You're just saying that because we are stuck together."

You laughed and let out a rebuttal.

Minutes passed with other witty remarks, and before you could realize, the brief rainstorm had completely passed. You were confused that you hadn't heard another thunder since there had to have been at least one. But you had gotten too involved in Dark's quips to notice the sound. Dark cracking jokes... now that was something you would have never imagined.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Dark asked, leaning his head on his arm.

"What?"

"You were staring at me without saying anything for a while now, so I figured you had something interesting going on in that brain of yours."

Heat rushed into your cheeks. You didn't realize you had been looking right at him.

You cleared your throat and saw him smiling out of the corner of your eye. "I was just wondering," you smiled back, "do you often run away?"

Dark quickly turned his head away in shame.

"First, it was when I was talking with Wilford. You came in and then suddenly excused yourself. Then, this morning, too... What's going on? Did I do something?"

He sighed. "No, no, you didn't do anything. It's me." He added quietly.

"How so?"

He responded after a couple of seconds. "I am afraid that if I tell you, a lot of things might change... between us." The look in his dark eyes was earnest, almost nostalgic.

Oh.

You pondered upon his statement for a few seconds. "Does change always have to be bad?"

As soon as you said the sentence, you were hit with a sense of deja vu. You felt like you've said it before, but how?

In tandem with your confusion, a slight shock spread on his features. As if in a trance, you put your hand on his cheek. Looking him up and down, you studied his features. There was nothing different from what you've come to know. Why were you expecting to see something else?

Your fingers moved on your own in a caress.

His eyes fluttered shut. You traced over his forehead, moving to his cheekbones when you ended up near his lips. Features oh so familiar like you knew them for years. Now that his eyes were closed, he seemed different. At peace. So close.

He opened his eyes, and there it was again. The two of you in your office. The proximity close enough to feel electrifying. None of you said anything as a decision hung in the air. But only up until his onyx-like eyes flicked from your own to your lips.

He smiled. "Would it be foolish of me to say I want to kiss you right now?"

And you answered by leaning in.

You let yourselves be entangled by the sheer amount of emotion as your lips brushed against each other. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer like he wanted to drown himself in you. You basked in the softness of your embrace, finally feeling as if everything has fallen into place.

He pulled away as you tried to catch your breath.

"So beautiful." He whispered, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Before you could respond, he went right back in. Not that you minded, of course.

No sooner than a minute had passed were you interrupted by your office door swinging open.

"Glad to see you've finally figured yourselves out! Now, if we could-" Wilford's voice was cut off as Dark slammed the door with a motion of his hand.

He brushed his hair away from his face and turned back to you.

"It did look like he needed something." You gazed at the door pensively.

"I am sure he did, but," he smoothed out your shirt, "I do believe you don't want anyone seeing you like this."

You tried to keep from laughing as you regarded his own disheveled appearance. "You're not too neat either, Sir 'Irons his shirts every morning'."

He rolled his eyes but smiled at you regardless. Getting up from the couch, he held out his hand, which you accepted, and headed to whatever wacky escapade Wilford was up to this time.

#x reader #reader insert #darkiplier x reader #dark x reader #darkiplier #damien x da #wkm damien #damien the mayor #awhm yancy #wilford warfstache #markiplier egos #iplier egos #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #imagines

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melancholypancakes · 1 year

Text

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!!!”

#wkm fanart #who killed markiplier angst #who killed markiplier #da wkm #damien x da #the mirror realm #the upside down #darkiplier headcanons #the DA pissed at Darkiplier #She also pissed at Damien

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adalwolfgang · 6 months

Text

??? 𝘅 𝗴𝗻!𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗔𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁𝘆-𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝗦𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀, 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝘂𝗽.

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗗𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗗𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿, 𝗖𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗗𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆.

𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼 @randomwriter28 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀.

Early this morning

When you knocked upon my door

He stopped walking, his hands falling to his sides.

“No?” He repeats the word. A word so simply but holds greater meaning.

Everything felt different. Something changed. You didn’t know what it was but you could feel that something was different, and yet familiar all the same.

Early this morning

When you knocked upon my door

“You heard me. I want answers but not the ones you think, Damien.” You crossed your arms over your chest, staring at him with a frown on your face. His eyes locked onto yours when you said his name. Or at least….his old one. The one he wished to never hear again. He let out a huff in annoyance, fixing his suit jacket before holding up both his hands.

“Fine, educate me then. Ask me whatever comes to your mind.”

Truth be told you didn't know what to ask him. You didn’t need to ask him anything. What was the point? You were stuck in this loophole for good. You swallowed what saliva was building up in the back of your throat to try and calm your nerves. Short glimpses of the manor, the dark events that took place, disappear just as quickly as they had appeared.

And I said hello Satan, ah

I believe it is time to go

“Why?” It was his turn to look confused. He squinted his eyes at you, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“You’ll have to elaborate, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and clenched your hands.

Me and the devil walkin' side by side

Me and the devil walking side by side

“Why did you leave me!? You said you’d come back and get me! You said we could fix this together! I waited for so long….but you never came back…You never did.” Your voice trailed off and quieted while you watched his reaction. He didn’t respond immediately but after a long while of silence, he looked towards the ground that you both stood on.

“I was. The day he took you, I was just coming back to you.” He raised his head and looked at you, the table and glass of wine disappearing as he appeared closer, standing in front of you. You frowned more, looking at him and feeling the familiarity of Damien in him.

And I'm gonna see my man

Until I get satisfied

"I can assure you that I was going to keep my promise but...I was selfish and too caught up in getting revenge that I didnt see to rescuing you sooner," As he spoke, his hand slowly raised, and ghosted over your cheek as if worried a single touch would shatter you like porcelain.

"Just give me a chance to explain everything," he hesitated for a moment, trying to choose his next words wisely.

"and maybe you will understand my side of things and join me."

You may bury my body

Down by the highway side

~Time Skip~

After Dark had explained all that has happened and who was the cause of it, you felt as if all your emotions were about to bust. You wanted to scream into the void of darkness that you were all too familiar with when being trapped in the mirror. Dark placed a hand on the small of your back before a new voice cutoff the almost intimate moment.

“They belong to me now, old friend.”

You both turned and looked as Mark stepped into view and grinned sadistically. You felt trapped between the pair.

“They belong to no one, you piece of shi-” Dark growled before being cutoff by your hand touching his chest. He gave you a look before glaring at the man on the other side of you.

“Oh, they haven't told you yet? Go on, Tell him!” a grim chuckle came from Mark. He was getting a kick out of this interaction. That was until he noticed neither you or Dark were giving him the reaction he was hoping for. Instead you both just stared daggers at him. Now it was his turn to be confused.

See, see, you don't see why

And you would dog me 'round

“Well?! Go on then! Tell him!” The ringing in your ears grew louder as Dark looked at Mark and growled, an animalistic sound you had never heard from him before. It quickly disappeared as Dark dropped the act, a toothy grin appearing, what seemed to be for the first time, on his face. Mark watched as Dark pulled you closer to him, you allowing it, before realization struck his face.

See, don't see why

People dog me around

“Why you little-” You watched as Dark didnt let Mark finish his sentence, quickly grabbing him by the throat and lifting him up slightly from the ground, cutting off his airways. Mark simply laughed while glaring at the both of you before his whole being disappeared.

It must be that old evil spirit

So deep down in your ground

Dark turned back around to face you, his hands laying limp against his sides. You walk up to him and pull on his tie, which takes him by surprise, before pressing a soft kiss to his surprisingly warm lips. He slowly starts to kiss you back, not long after resting his hands on your hips and pulling you closer. The kiss gets more passionate while his tongue teased your lips.

So my old evil spirit

Can Greyhound bus that ride

"Does this mean you'll join me?"

So my old evil spirit

Can Greyhound bus that ride

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fgfluidity · 2 years

Text

curiosity

Summary: There’s nothing wrong with an autumn amusement.

Pairing: Mayor Attorney (Damien x DA) but it’s light

Warnings: Just some good clean fun, really.

a fall commission

my ko-fi

@opprose @vverebeast @mirrorslament @statictay @otterlyinluv @flerpdederp

It wasn’t meant to be anything more than a fair.

Autumn always meant the fair, a rather large affair with decent funding from the local chamber of commerce and a few charitable businesses. The square would be filled with people and booths, advertising delicious-smelling food and hand-crafted wares.

You always enjoyed it, and now is no exception.

Thankfully, the air is a touch crisp, leaving you cozy in your soft knit. It’s a bit big, maybe, but that makes the sweater all the more comfortable as you peer into booth after booth, curious.

Carvings, jewelry, snacks… nothing persuades you to pull out your wallet, but you aren’t the only one at the fair. Out of courtesy, you glance over your shoulder to where you last spotted Damien.

He isn’t there. Or— no, there he is, a few feet away, caught up in conversation with some constituent you don’t recognize.

As expected, really, with his position, but you can’t help a sigh. You’d hoped for some alone time, as much as being in a public space as public officials can qualify; it’s so rare you get a moment to simply be good friends spending time together.

You have little room to judge him for taking work along with him, though. Goodness knows you’ve brought case files on trips before, carefully tucked away in your bag and ready for any spare moment.

You’ve gotten the lecture before.

He gets the excuse of his work not being so avoidable, as much as it irks you. When you’re the face of the city, everyone has to say something when they see you.

Just as you’re debating the best way to sneak in and sweep him away, because you’re just as entitled to a bit of his time as anyone else, he nods to his conversation partner and turns away. The moment he spots you through the throng, he makes a beeline right for you, his limp be damned.

“Thank goodness,” he sighs once he’s at your side. “Perhaps now they’ll realize this is an appearance for pleasure, rather than politics.”

“I wouldn’t bet money on it,” you point out, patting his arm sympathetically. “It’s so hard being the mayor, isn’t it? Everyone clamoring for your attention?”

He gives you a look. “It’s the most loathsome part of my job, if that’s what you mean. I’m not Mark.”

“Fair, but it’s not so bad. It could certainly be worse.” You wrinkle your nose. “Remember my university job?”

He shudders, hand clenching the grip of his cane tighter just for a moment. “I certainly do. I’d take any election over that— though it does give me an idea.”

You look to him curiously, and he gives a sly smile. “Do you think that was any more frightening than the haunted house?”

“Haunted-?” You bark a laugh, not derisive but surprised. “Infinitely. Are you interested in a little scare in the name of the season, though?”

“I have nowhere else I’d want to be.” He smiles at you, warm, and gestures forward. “I’ve heard it’s just down the way— and you can protect me with your killer fists all you like.”

You gesture for his cane with a grin. “With your cane, I think you might be a match for me these days. Any ghouls that come for us should think twice.”

From the look of the haunted house, though, you can’t imagine it filled to the brim with frights. It’s artificially shabby, a storefront decorated with fibrous cotton and fabric and old boards, without the dust and rot to add any authenticity.

It’s mostly quiet, too, no scary records or actors making noise, no one tempting passersby into the dark depths. By all accounts, it just looks like an abandoned building; the only thing that marks it as an attraction at all is the hand-painted sign above the door saying as such.

Damien must note your apprehension, because he nudges your shoulder lightly. “It’s the town fair,” he explains, “and besides: the people who come out always seem to have had fun. It won’t be so frightening.”

“I’m more worried it won’t be frightening at all,” you reply. “It ought to be, shouldn’t it? It’s a haunted house.”

Damien nods, giving the facade his own once-over. “I’m sure they did their best,” he assures you, smiling. “By all means, my friend, you first.”

If he were anyone else, you might expect he held some ulterior motive in pushing you ahead of him into the building. Mark, for instance, would have shut the door behind you or disappeared the moment you took eyes off him; Damien, however, remains a comforting presence at your back as you walk forward.

The inside— or, at least, this first room— seems to be the same as the outside in terms of decor: sheets over furniture, boards over windows, with the singular addition of a few paper cutouts of seasonally ‘scary’ things like skeletons and pumpkins.

In all, it’s a bit of a disappointment, until a shadow skirts around one of the counters unexpectedly. Thankfully, you don’t yelp, but you do jump and stumble back a step or two.

“Oh—“ Damien’s warm hand presses into your shoulder blade to keep you steady, and he peers around you for the culprit. “Oh— it’s only a little cat. Are you alright?”

You heave a breath, heat rushing to your face in your embarrassment. “Yes, I’m alright. I wasn’t expecting a cat in here.”

In the flesh, the cat gracefully leaps up onto the counter it came from, curling its long tail around dainty black paws. With glittering gold-green eyes, it watches you, then lazily blinks. It accepts a scritch when you extend your fingers, butting gently into your hand, which you’ll take as an apology.

“Seems you’ve made a friend of our host,” Damien teases gently, and you give him a wry look over your shoulder. “You always had a way with others.”

“I only didn’t realize it extended to cats,” you comment dryly. “Well, little miss, do you have anything more in the way of scares, or are the only things that should be afraid in here mice?”

The cat blinks at you again, then saunters down the counter, casually as any cat could manage. It jumps down with a mrrrow, then pads over the hardwood to a far door, just slightly ajar.

Could it really know what you asked for? A little chill runs up your spine at the thought, and another once you look through the crack in the door.

Nothing but pitch black, the same as the cat’s silky fur.

“Damien..?”

He’s looking at the door when you glance back, brow slightly furrowed, but you couldn’t guess his thoughts. Finally, he steps around you. “Maybe it’s a little more magical than we thought,” he murmurs. “Stay behind me.”

You don’t dare stray a step or two from his back. Not even when he swings open the door, and any ambient light— noise, anything— vanishes.

#fg writes #wkm damien #y/n district attorney #mayor attorney #damien x da #damien x reader

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