#who killed markiplier fanfic

[thebowieconstricker]

Your Ivy Grows Chapter 3 Out of Context Spoliers

Inspired by the amazing fic by @autisticskeleton-s !

contains one (1) image at the end some may find disturbing

All images courtesy of Pinterest, can’t wait for chapter 4!

[reinxxoi]

𝕄𝕦𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ๋࣭݁ ⭑🪩๋࣭ ⭑. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

₊ ⊹✮.* ⋆ :.𖥔 ݁ ⊹✮ ⋆｡°✩ . ݁₊ ⊹

Wilford Warfstache x Detective Abe

Who Killed Markiplier Fanfiction

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲

Detective Abe has Mark to thank for beating his struggles with addiction. Now that he’s well established in his career he has no problem avoiding alcohol until he receives an invitation to poker night at Markiplier Manor.

When the night goes from harmless fun to an unsolved murder, Abe is tasked with finding out who dunnit. This choice results in him being shot through the heart and on a manhunt for three years searching for Colonel William J. Barnum.

When he finally encounters him, there are more feelings than anger that Abe feels towards the man who stole everything from him.

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐔𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬?

New chapters will come out as I write them. Please do not rush me as I experience burnout very easily.

Playlist

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Homophobia, Murder, Violence, Drugs, Sex, Mental Health, Suicide, and Addiction.

Other than that, please enjoy Murder at the Disco!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

Prologue- Who Killed Markiplier?

Chapter 1- Fame, Guts, Glory

Chapter 2- A Dead End Road

𐙚°🥂⋆.ೃ🪩*•°🥂⋆.ೃ🪩*•♡☾‎‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧‎‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧

[ariwritessometimes]

Cause of Death, Chapter 9

Now available on Ao3!

[fdq666roadie-blog]

William/Celine fluff, written for a 1k prompt challenge on the r/fanfiction subreddit

[miketheme]

SHATTER - Part 1

Next Part

Pheeeew, part one took longer than I thought it would! But it‘s worth it, it’s been ages since I’ve last made a graphic fanfic, I was a little out of practice! The storyline is finished, I will just need to draw and post it part by part :)

I’ll edit the posts to add links everytime the next part airs, to make it easier for people who find this later. Anyways, hopefully my motivation will stay up and high for the rest of this lil angsty fic!

[ghiertor-the-gigapeen]

[districtattorney404]

why do I have to see this...

[hiding-under-the-willow]

“If we don’t say anything, and something goes wrong in that house, again…” His gaze drifted down to the red tile floor below him

[thatonewannabegirl]

when the unnamed-faceless-ageless-genderless-raceless protagonist is mentioned when they’re not there>>>>

[angel-ixily]

The Loss of My Life (1/4)

Pairing: Darkiplier x GN!Reader

Fandom: Markiplier Cinematic Universe

Warnings: Mentions of Actor!Mark, slight manipulation, cursing, crying. That’s about it? Nothing too crazy guys

A/N: I went on a deep dive of the entire Markiplier Universe again, and I’ve been meaning to write a Darkiplier fanfic for SOOO long because he’s literally everything, so here’s part 1 of 4!

Summary: After another one of Mark’s “adventures”, Darkiplier finds you once more to wake you up. Only this time is different.

I stared into the mirror for a moment, watching my reflection. I looked like a dog, a literal dog. My face was a dog’s face, yet when I touched it, I didn’t feel fur, I only felt skin. Human skin. I didn’t understand. I moved closer, the dog in the mirror moving closer as well.

And then I saw it.

The reflection I was staring at flickered. I tilted my head, furrowed my eyebrows, and squinted my eyes. The dog was flickering in and out of view. An actual human-like appearance began to form until eventually I stared into the mirror into a black figure with red eyes. An aura of blue and red on the outside of it.

Nothing was said at first as I stared into the mirror. That wasn’t me. It couldn’t of been. I leaned back, unable to walk away when it spoke.

“You need to wake up.”

Black. Everything went black. I tried looking around into the darkness to see if there was any sight of anything. I was too afraid to move. It felt like I was standing in a puddle of water.

“Hello.” I whipped around, almost losing my balance at the fast paced movement. There stood a man in a black suit. His black hair covering the right side of his forehead, and his midnight black eyes piercing in my soul. He looked serious. Very serious. Like the mirror, he had a red and blue aura around him.

I then relaxed a little, realizing that it was just Mark. My heartbeat began to calm down. “Mark. You would not believe the crazy things I’ve been through. I saw.. I saw a man with a dramatic mustache and then… I looked in the mirror and saw I was a dog, but-” Mark cut me off.

“I’m not Mark!” He yelled. I saw “Mark” glitch. Another version of him came out of his body and yelled before going right back into him. His body was surrounded by red. My eyes widened, and I took a step back.

“What?” I asked. It’s all I could muster up. He looked just like him. If this wasn’t Mark, then who the fuck was he?

Not Mark cracked his neck, straightening his posture and fixing his suit jacket. “Over, and over, and over again we’ve had this same conversation. We’ve talked many times before, you just simply can’t remember. It’s because of his manipulation that you don’t even realize that we talked only a little while ago.” He began walking towards me. I took a step back. He stopped, looking me up and down. “Huh.” He muttered.

“I… I don’t understand. I… you.. and then..” I couldn’t get my thoughts straight. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I didn’t know what was going on. Where was Mark? Where was I?

“Your questions will be answered. You just have to see the truth first. Not the lies he’s told you. The truth.” He glitched again, a smirk landed on his face. I stared between both of his eyes and shook my head slowly.

“What truth? What lies? Who’s he? And who are you?” I pushed further. His smirk widened into a toothy grin. He leaned forward, putting his hands behind his back.

“Finally… you’re asking the right questions.” He leaned back and cracked his neck again. His grin fell. Another version of him came out and glitched back and forth. “But as I said. The truth. You have to see it before you can understand. You’ll get your answers. You just…” He glanced to the left and into the darkness. “You have to let me in.” He slowly looked back to me. I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Let you in? What? I don’t even know you! Who are you? Take me home!” I demanded, taking more steps back. I immediately fell back into a chair, and all of a sudden there was a desk in front of me. A dark wooden desk that he was walking behind.

“I don’t think you understand what I just said. In order to know the answers to your questions and curiosities, you have to let me in.” He sat behind the desk, folding his hands. He tilted his head.

I looked down at the chair that I was sitting in. I looked back up to him to see him sitting on top of the desk. I blinked quickly. “I don’t… I want to leave. Don’t I get a choice in this?” I asked him. I blinked again and he was nowhere to be found. He was no longer in front of me.

“Haven’t you ever wondered where you are?” He asked. I yelped in surprise. He was right next to me. Bent over, and his face leaning into me. “How you can’t seem to grasp who you are? Why you can’t remember anything before your last adventure?” He asked me. I stared up at him through my lashes, pursing my lips.

“I know who I am. And I know my memories!” I declared, standing up to face him. He was close to me, standing inches away. He stared down at me.

“Humor me, then. Tell me where you were before your “date?” He responded. The corners of his mouth lifted into a wicked grin.

“Okay! I…” I paused for a moment. “I was…” I was at a loss for words for a moment, breaking eye contact with him. “Oh yes! I was at… with… I… no, wait! Mark and I! We…” my heartbeat began to speed up. My breathing became irregular. My mind was spinning. He pursed his lips and made a tsk sound. “I can’t remember… why can’t I remember?” I asked him. I sat down again, freaking out. I put a hand over my heart. He leaned over me.

“What about your home? Do you remember where you live?” He asked. I looked down to the floor, feeling tears prick my eyes. They were stinging from me holding them back. I shook my head no. He exhaled and walked behind his desk again.

“I’m not the only one who can manipulate reality. Your dear friend Mark has a habit of doing it as well. It’s why you can’t remember. It’s why we’ve been here an infinite amount times before. It why you need to let me in. I can give you what you need.” He sat down and leaned forward, staring into my tear-filled eyes.

“I just want to go home…” I felt a few tears go down my cheeks, and I started sniffling. For the first time I saw a flicker of remorse on his face before going back to his normal seriousness.

“This time you don’t have a choice. There’s no home to go back to.” He stayed. I shook my head.

“There’s always a choice.” I cried. More tears began to fall. He leaned back in his chair.

“Life is ours to choose…” He mumbled. He was silent for a moment. “Fine then. I’ll give you 2 choices. You can go back to your original life. Your memory will restart and you’ll go back to having no memories. We’ll play this little game over and over again. Starting over with every new reality Mark puts you in. Or you can let me in. You can let me give you the option to choose whatever you want, know whatever you want. You can make an infinite amount of choices, not just the choices he gives you.” He said. He glitched and another version of him stood behind him.

“Why would Mark do that? He’s… my friend? Or date? I don’t know at this point.” I saw the red aura on him rise again. An annoyed sneer appeared. He closed his eyes, bringing the red around him down.

“He’s nothing but the same snake who sheds different skin with every story he takes you to. If you just.. let me in I’ll show you that!” He seemed desperate. His eyebrows were furrowed. This time the blue around him rose. “Please.” He begged. The blue still stayed. His own chest was rising and falling at a fast pace.

I sniffled one more time before wiping it away with my sleeve. I looked at his desk. “If I let you in… I’ll know?” I asked him. He nodded once.

“Yes. I promise.” He didn’t break eye contact. I closed my eyes, letting a tear break free from my eye.

“How do I do that?” I asked him. I lifted my head and opened my eyes. He was right in front of me. His face inches away from mine again. I could breathe him in. He smelled rich. Elegant. He tilted his head to the right.

“Just relax. Let me in.” He leaned in closer. I looked at his eyes to his lips. He was centimeters away now, his lips barely brushing mine. As if he was asking for permission. I tilted my head to the left slightly. I fluttered my eyes closed.

This seemed familiar, as strange as that sounded. This felt like something I was supposed to do. So I leaned in, pushing my lips onto his. At first it was just a kiss. He pushed further, exhaling into the kiss as if he had been relieved. Our lips moved against each other, fitting perfectly until I gasped.

It all came back. My name. My memories. Who I was. What happened. The party. It was supposed to be poker. Mark… died. Abe made me his partner. We tried finding out who did it. Damien. William shot Abe. William shot me. Damien and Celene.. A mirror. All of the adventures I’d ever been in. Mark.. did this? But Damien… Darkiplier?

I gasped for air and my eyes shot open. Darkiplier was nowhere to be found. I was no longer in a chair.

“Damien…” I mumbled before I passed out.

[the-hero-of-net-zero]

Dropping my wip here because I am super proud of it so far

Cold ...it's always cold I think to my self as I trudge through the snow I stop in my normal spot a little clearing were  lots of stumps litter the outskirts  remanets of past trees I have cut down   I let out a breath as  i bring my axe towards the biggest tree  cut marks are over the tree  not quite cuting deep enough to make the tree fall I start hacking away befor something catches my eye   a flower? No that can't be I crouch down to get a better look at it. It is a small flower bearly the size of my palm it's light blue and pink and the pedals are furrowed tightly around the middle.I run my finger over the silky flower causing it to unfurl revealing more small blue and pink pedals The inside is cold and wet from snow creeping in through the gaps. I gently pick the flower and stand up as I do so i here someone say my name softly the wind bringing the melancholic and oddly familiar voice to my ears.i immediately turn towards it  expecting to see someone or at least something but instead all I see is the rest of the dark forest and the fastly falling snow.  Don't slam the -door  Saline says as I slam the Door the  fireplace flicker as if welcoming me home. I can do what I want I mutter under my breath as I walk over to the fire place.i throw some of the smaller pieces of wood into the fire.i stare at it for a moment before speaking again  Hay Saline  did you  go out while I was gone ?  Saline laughed bitterly  out in this weather?  She  gets up and leans over the window seal it seems the storm is getting worse she comments as she watches the snow fall angerly 

[reinxxoi]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒪𝓃𝑒

𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕖, 𝔾𝕦𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔾𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕪

A Horse With No Name

America, George Martin

“I’ve been through the desert

On a horse with no name

It felt good to be out of the rain

In the desert, you can remember your name

‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain”

𐙚°🥂⋆.ೃ🪩*•°🥂⋆.ೃ🪩*•♡☾‎‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧‎‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧

It took about 5 weeks to recover from the gunshot and I was finally being discharged from the hospital. My Boss visited me from time to time, I’m sure he partially felt guilty for what happened. I had expressed my concerns about the party but he’s the one who urged me to go reconnect with an old friend… I can’t fault him though, I don’t regret that night… It was the last night I saw Mark.

After signing the paperwork I went out into the lobby to see my brother standing in the waiting area, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket.

“Dan!” I call to him, causing him to look up. His eyes lit up and he embraced me tightly. “How are you, buddy?” I asked him, gently.

“I’m okay…” He sniffed, my brother was always in tune with his emotions… Dad hated him for it but I was always there for him. “I thought you were gonna die.” He heaved as he begun to sob.

“Daniel… I’m okay! Do you see me? I’m fine!” I push him away lightly, holding his shoulders. “I survived Dan! And I’m tougher than ever.” I grinned and he smiled back.

My brother always looked young but seeing him like this took me right back to that old tattered home when I stared at my 4-year-old brother who was crying because Daddy yelled at him again. Who knew we’d recreate this moment a whole 12 years later?

“Who drove you here?” I asked him.

“Dad did… He went to the bathroom, said he couldn’t stand to wait on your slow ass any longer.” Dan timidly repeated what he had heard our dead-beat father say.

“Bullshit.” I scoff, pointing at him walking back in from outside. “That bastard went out for a smoke.” I crossed my arms as he approached us.

“Abraham! My son, how are you?” Dad embraces me as tight as his old frail body can.

“I’m fine Dad.” I shrugged.

“Daniel, go buy me a beer. I need to catch up with my son.” He tossed Dan the keys.

“Dad you can’t drink in a hospital.” I grab the keys out of Dan’s hands. “And I thought you told me you quit smoking!” I gesture to how he just came in from outside.

“Nonsense! I went out for fresh air!” He brushed it aside.

“Dan said you went to the bathroom. What’s the deal with that, huh?” I instigate an argument with him.

“Abe… It’s okay.” Dan insists. “Can we just leave? People are starting to stare…” He pointed out the many people worried by our exchange.

“Yeah… Let’s go.” I sighed.

Upon walking out of the hospital I was bombarded by paparazzi and journalists. They were all screaming questions about Mark and the murders at Markiplier Manor… MurderS?! Plural?! How many people have The Colonel killed?!

My dad pulled out a gun, shooting it in the air multiple times to clear the crowd. I took advantage of the opportunity, running to my Dad’s car and getting in.

“I hope you don’t mind if I stop by the manor? I need my car and the rest of the shit I left behind.” I, of course, didn’t give them a choice in the matter and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot.

As we drive I turn up the radio, listening to A Horse With No Name by America. The weaving, winding road to Markiplier Manor was bringing back the same feeling of dread I had last time I made this journey. I never want to see that blasted manor ever again.

Hopefully this will be my last trip to the manor. As I pulled in I saw my car, still parked next to that same Cadillac Eldorado. I turned off the car and stepped out. The manor had been taped off but I needed in so it was time to break some rules. I ducked under the tape, entering the manor. Everything of value was marked as evidence.

There was dried blood on the floor where The DA must’ve fallen. I walked around, hoping the investigators had missed something. There wasn’t anything to note in the main rooms so I moved on to Mark’s office. Entering the office, I noticed how empty it was. Everything in here must’ve gone to evidence… I needed to get on the force that’s looking into this. They did leave one thing behind… A photo of The Colonel. This is the picture frame my Partner had found… The glass was shattered.

I took the picture, I knew it would help me, I just didn’t know how… not yet at least. I went back upstairs to where Celine had been locked up. I jiggled the door handle but it was locked. I figured only George had the key. Any other day I’d break the door down but doing so with without authorization could do more harm than good. Then I saw it… A bullet casing on the floor right where I had been shot. This was fired from The Colonel’s gun, I was sure of it.

I was now one step closer to catching him. Heading back down, I grabbed my keys that were hanging on the wall next to the door. When I opened the door I noticed two cops walking towards me.

“Abe? What the hell are you doing here?” One of them asked me. I didn’t recognize him but then again, I’ve become the most famous Detective overnight.

“I was grabbing the keys to my car, I need it to get to and from work.” I explained partially as to why I was here.

“All right, just don’t get into trouble. This is our crime scene now.” With that, the two walked past me and inside the manor.

I could get into serious trouble for taking these pieces of evidence but I don’t trust some random coppies to solve such a complex murder. And who would know The Colonel better than me? Or perhaps Mark…

I got in my car and made the long journey back home. As I entered my small, one bedroom home, I fiddled with the shell casing I collected from the crime scene. I continued further into the house, looked at the small marks on the casing, and wondered if I’d be able to find it within our system back at the station. Entering my office, I set the casing down on my desk along with my briefcase.

I took off my jacket, hanging it on the rack by the door and I fell into my desk chair, staring down at the casing in the dim lighting of my office room. I flipped on my lamp, holding the casing up to the light and I saw it… A serial number!

“Bingo.” I muttered softly. This was monumental! I picked up the receiver of my rotary phone and dialed in the number of my buddy who works night shifts.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end was crackly and static.

“Darren?” I ask, hoping he can hear me

“Yes. Who’s this?” Darren asked, not recognizing my voice. I saw an opportunity to punk the bitch.

“Yeah this is Bob Dylan” I impersonated his favorite celebrity.

“Not funny Abe.” He scoffed

“I dunno, I think it was pretty hilarious.” I chuckle slightly

“What do you want? Or did you call me to let me know that my obsession with pop-culture is childish?” He grumbled disapprovingly.

“Actually, I need a favor. You still at the station?” I asked, curiously.

“I am but boss told you to take medical leave so I’m not allowed to disclose confidential information.” Darren always was one for the rules. He firmly believed that there was nothing more important in life than order and structure, quite a stark contrast to me.

“What if I could get you into a live performance? Come on D-Dog you know you want to see Bobby himself!” I bribed him, hoping he’d take the bait.

“Bribing a police officer is a felony, Abe.” He groaned, I sighed. I knew it was too good to be true. Darren is a straight arrow, straighter than I am. He wouldn’t break a rule even if it cost him his life. I’d have to find another way to track down this goddamn bast- “Going on a date with one isn’t.” He finally muttered softly into the phone.

“Huh?” I was shocked- I didn’t know he felt that way about me and I also didn’t know how I felt about him. I didn’t want to play with his feelings but sometimes you have to sacrifice your morals for the greater good. “It’s a date then..” Those words… I couldn’t help but smile. Why was I all giddy over him? I had to keep my cool though, the last thing I needed was to fall in love and let my emotions get in the way.

“What can I do for you Abe?” He asked me, finally ready to hear my proposition.

I read him the serial number I found on the shell casing and while he had many questions as to why I have this, I told him it wasn’t related to anything he should worry about. Of course he didn’t press further, after-all I was giving him deniability.

“The serial number is registered to William J. Barnum…” He finally found a result for the numbers I gave him “It looks like he was a colonel during the Vietnam War.” He was even more surprised, probably wondering how deep this rabbit hole went.

“That’s all I needed to know, thank you Darren.” I thank him for his generosity.

“Don’t thank me, that would imply I did a favor for you. This was a deal.” He reiterated.

“Yes, yes… I’ll get the tickets for us.” I assured him.

“Good. Now I have work to attend to, farewell Abe.” He hung up the phone.

I stared at the receiver in my hand, unsure on how to feel. I finally put the phone down and set the shell casing aside. I was exhausted so I decided to call it a night, heading to my bedroom and crashing as my head hit the pillow.

𐙚°🥂⋆.ೃ🪩*•°🥂⋆.ೃ🪩*•♡☾‎‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧‎‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧

The next morning I had slept in, I must’ve been tired from last night but it wasn’t important. Today I had several things to do in order to progress in my chase for The Colonel. I needed to buy Bob Dylan tickets and also check out the Los Angeles Times to see if I can find anything about The Colonel. It was noon so most people were probably at work, I decided that now would be the best time to buy those tickets.

I grabbed about 20 dollars in cash and drove to my nearest event box office. Despite the fact that it was noon there was still a long line but I owed Darren a favor so I had to do this. I parked my car and stood in line…

It took about half an hour in line before I was finally able to get to the booth.

“What can I do for you?” The woman asked, clearly tired of this job.

“Two Bob Dylan tickets.” I blankly said, setting down the cash onto the counter.

“You got a girlfriend or something?” She was monotone and obviously didn’t care.

“Uh- Oh.. No, not exactly.” I stammer, I couldn’t believe I was stumbling over my words like a flustered schoolgirl!

“Well I hope she returns your feelings.” Once again, her monotone voice indicated that she didn’t actually care. She handed me two tickets, taking the cash I sat down.

“Keep the change.” I wave politely, taking my leave. I hopped in the car and head to the LA Times.

Once I arrived I parked the car once more and entered the building. As soon as I entered I was bombarded by photographers and journalists.

“Detective Abe!!” “DETECTIVE!” “How does it feel-!” “Do you understand that-!?”

all the voices overlapped and overwhelmed me. I couldn’t handle the flashing lights and noise. I pushed past them and was stopped by a younger female journalist.

“Come with me, I’ll get you away from all this.” She spoke softly. As much as I didn’t trust a journalist to truly give me privacy… She was also my only hope.

“O-Okay?” I murmur and she grabs my hand leading me into what appeared to be her office.

“Take a seat!” She invited me warmly.

The woman locked the door and pulled the blinds, giving us actual privacy. I took a seat at the chair across from her desk as she sat down.

“What’s the catch?” I asked suspicious of her intentions.

“Now, let’s start this politely.” She held up a finger, shushing me. “I’m Kelsey.” She smiled at me softly. Kelsey was pale in complexion and had long blonde hair pulled back into a low bun, her bright blue eyes sparkled in the dim office lighting, she had crooked teeth and a plump face but it was unique and endearing.

“I’m—“ I began to introduce myself when I was interrupted.

“Detective Abe Lincoln, I’m aware.” She tilts her head slightly as she smiles.

“So? Can I help you?” I asked, a little creeped out.

“Actually, yes! You could! And I think I could help you.” She was eager to explain but waited for my response patiently. She was like a dog who gets hyper when she hears keywords.

“What could you possibly have that I would want?” I crossed my arms, leaning back in my chair.

“In case you haven’t noticed I work here, and you seem to want something I have access to.” She leaned forward resting her head on her clasped hands. “So hence why we can help each other!” She smiled excitedly.

“How can I help you though?” I scoffed, this girl was pissing me off with her cryptic speech.

“Oh my god! You are no fun.” She sighed, standing up from her chair and grabbing a journal from her shelf. She flipped through a couple pages before sitting back down and grabbing a pen. “I want an exclusive interview with THE Detective Abe!” She began eagerly writing something on the top of a blank sheet.

“What?” I was in awe, the audacity of her to take my trauma and turn it into a spectacle!

“Fame, Guts, and Glory!” She exclaims. I give her a weird look, prompting her to expound. “It’s the title of my article!” She was all giddy about it but her expression immediately changed when I didn’t match her level of excitement. “You don’t like it?” She muttered.

“What’s with you?” I was surprised. “You were just so excited and now…” I started to feel really badly. Maybe I was too harsh on her.

“It’s not your fault…” She refused to make eye contact. “This is my last chance. All my articles before failed and if I don’t write a captivating article then I’ll definitely lose my job.” She looked like she was about to cry… Now I really felt bad.

“Why would you lose your job??” I asked her.

“I’m already paid so much less and I have a stricter dress code… In order to get the job I had to…” She was spiraling…

“Kelsey!” I exclaimed. “Let’s do this.” I reassured her.

“Really??” She looked up at me in shock.

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to be in the news.” That was a big lie but at least it would make her feel better.

We conducted the interview and once we were finished she was back to her cheerful self.

“This is just what I needed! Thank you so much!” She thanked me profusely. “Now, what can I help you with?” She asked.

“I need you to look into a person.” I began. She nodded intently. “William J. Barnum.” I hoped the name would jog her memory.

“Got it… I’ll do some searching around discreetly. Can I call you when I have information?” She asked.

“Yeah, here’s my number.” I wrote it down in her notebook. “Call me as soon as you find something, okay?” I stood up, and walked to the door. I gripped the handle tightly. “You’re a good journalist Kelsey.” I complimented her before leaving.

𐙚°🥂⋆.ೃ🪩*•°🥂⋆.ೃ🪩*•♡☾‎‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧‎‧₊˚✧🪩✧˚₊‧

back next

[starlyte-writes]

I wrote a fic depicting my take on the District Attorney from Who Killed Markiplier! You should all totally definitely read it it's very cool and there's lots of Damien involved pls pls pls k byyyyyyye

[shabeeboothedrawingender]

A Pain in the Back - Short Dilliam Fic

The sliding doors opened, emitting a beep. William had only been informed a few hours ago by Celine over the phone. Damien had gotten into a terrible accident and he had a serious back injury. William listened to the quiet waiting room, tapping his foot anxiously to the sound of the coffee machine dripping.

"Mr Barnum?" his name was called and he was taken to Damien's room. He stared at the sleeping mayor in shock and slight horror. He walked over, knelt down and carefully took ahold of Damien's hand.

"God, you're an idiot. How did you, the most paranoid and careful person on the planet, injure yourself like this?" he sighed. "I can't even tell if it was an accident or if you..." he looked away. "I hope not." He listened to the heart monitor beep. Atleast Damien's heart was still beating. "I got you these."

He put a bouquet of white roses on the bedside table.

The mayor's favourite...

[room027]

uhhh i realize ive never posted about this before so im starting now..

i have an ao3!!!

and i write a lot of marmien on there here are my two favorites ive written but i have like 4 on my profile i think

check it out if ur starved of marmien content...

[fuffleton]

Fellas is it gay to get handmade matching necklaces for your male friend? (Marmien fic, can be read as platonic if you squint really hard)

Friendship bracelets and matching magnetic heart necklaces were always a little bit corny to Damien, but when Mark insisted on giving him a moon necklace that matched his own sun necklace he couldn’t help but wear it everywhere he went. It was a cute little thing, a moon shaped charm that was at the end of a pure silver chain, custom made of course, to match both men’s expensive taste. And he loved it. Especially because it matched perfectly with Mark’s, who’s necklace had a pure gold chain and a sun charm.

Damien had kept the necklace on his nightstand the small amount of times that he wasn’t wearing it, he always put it in the same spot, and even in the dark he could locate it perfectly. So when he woke up from a night of getting plastered at a party it came to his surprise when he put his hand tiredly on his nightstand and he could feel his lamp, eye contact case, and badge. Everything but his necklace.

He sat up groggily and yawned. Maybe he just knocked it down, he was going through an awful hangover, maybe he didn’t notice. He swung his legs off the side of his bed, being immediately hit by a terrible migraine, and slid on his fluffy blue slippers and stood up. He ignored his headache, he needed his necklace, the thing was expensive, and more importantly, it was a gift. He got on his knees and elbow and looked beside his nightstand, nothing was there. He moved the nightstand and looked behind it, nothing. He stood back up, for a moment he considered putting his contacts in, but in his mind the necklace was more important. What if he went to the bathroom and ended up stepping on it? He couldn’t risk it.

He looked under his bed and then on his bed. And then under each blanket and pillow, but he didn’t see it. But why’d he care so much? Sure it was a gift but he could just have another one made and Mark wouldn’t know the difference. But it was their necklaces, a sentimental thing to represent their friendship. But then again he’d had matching things with William or even his sister Celine and lost it, and he wasn’t nearly as bothered. What made the thing he had matching Mark so different? He didn’t know.

The mayor walked out of his room making sure to inspect every inch of his floor as he did so. He kept looking at the carpet under him as he walked into his living room, maybe it just got caught on something and he’d been too pickled to notice.

When he looked under his couch and under each table and in each drawer in his house and found everything but what he was looking for he had a pit in his stomach. Why? Why did it matter so much? He wasn’t a materialistic person by any means, a necklace didn’t determine their friendship, so why? It might have been because of how pretty it was, how kind it was to his eyes and how in certain light it glistened in a way only he noticed. Or how it was always with him when he wanted it. Or, maybe, it wasn’t the necklace that he cared so much about.

He couldn’t stop himself from tearing up a little bit from the defeat he had after looking in every nook and cranny of his house and still not finding his necklace.

On his way back to his room he tripped on the foot of his couch that he didn’t see. And there it was right in front of him. It was on him the entire time, maybe if he just put on his contacts he would’ve known. Relief didn’t wash over him like it should’ve because in that moment he realized something;

The necklace wasn’t what he loved.